Starting a new tag list for nerd!strange! Let me know if you’d like to be added in the comments :)
Nerd!Strange getting to eat for the first time <3
Not proofread, so apologies for any mistakes. Please leave ideas for Nerd!Strange in the comments or in my inbox! This one was left by anon and for some reason I couldn’t answer the ask? Idk, y’all know how tumblr is, but thank you to that person for the idea.
18+ below!!
Nerd!Stephen sees heaven the first time you spread your legs for him to see. The minuscule coverage of your thong does nothing to hide the plump outline of your lips.
Nerd!Stephen nearly begins to drool when your legs fall to the side, exposing the bright blue material of your panties. In the center, there’s a spot of cobalt where your arousal leaks out, staining the fabric with your need.
He brings a pair of shaking hands to your legs, fingers exploring the smooth skin slowly. It’s almost pitiful the way he looks at you; Like he’s never seen anything more spectacular in his life. Then again, maybe he hadn’t.
Nerd!Strange lowers himself to his stomach, wrapping his arms through your legs and roughly pulls you forward. Your head slides off the pillows as you slide toward him, a gasp of shock leaving your lips at the unexpected action.
It was sexy… almost dominant. A very rare dynamic for Stephen.
Still, he apologizes sheepishly, “Sorry…”
“Um… no worries,” You return, already a bit breathless as he simply runs his hands up and down your thighs.
Nerd!Stephen is a pervert. He knew it and so did you, so he feels no shame in leaning forward and pressing his nose to your clothes cunt, taking a deep, indecent whiff of your scent. He lets out a small whine at the smell, his hips shifting involuntarily against the mattress.
He draws back once more, eyes devouring the outline of your pussy before finally reaching up and oh-so-delicately sliding your panties to the side.
He’d seen pussy before in porn— all different types. But he swears he’s never seen anything as delicious looking as your cunt. You were already wet, a soft shine covering each lip. His eyes trace the outline of your womanhood, taking in each and every detail. You hold back a whine at the lack of stimulation, aside from the soft puffs of air coming through his nose as he sits there gawking.
“Fuck— Stephen,” You finally whine out, “Touch me or something, Jesus. I’m gonna’ dry up at this rate.”
Nerd!Strange’s eyes flicker to your own before he contests, “No you won’t. You like this.” Still, he turns his head and presses a tender kiss to your thigh. “You like the anticipation.” He turns and kisses the other thigh. “Not knowing when you’ll get what you want. It’s unusual for you. You like that.”
You squeak as he turns and nips at your thigh before soothing over the spot with his tongue. You let your head fall back, staring up at your ceiling, chest heaving. Stephen doesn’t let up, taking his time, slowly dragging his lips and tongue along your inner thighs. You were so soft and warm. The way you were practically panting had him enthralled. He knew he was only making it worse as he ran his hands along your stomach, stopping just short of cupping your breasts.
He loved your tits, but that’s wasn’t what tonight was about.
“I do want a taste,” He says lowly. “Never done this before, always wondered what it’s like.”
You gasp when he he uses his thumbs to part your lips to the side, the cold air hitting your most sensitive parts. Your whole body shivers and you grip at your comforter, searching for anything to ground you.
“So pretty…” He marvels, voice full of sweet and genuine awe. “Always knew it would be. Always wondered if she was as pretty as you were.”
He collects part of your slick on either thumb and begins gently massaging around the areas where you needed him most. His touch was perfect; Not too hard or too soft, definitely not moving too fast, and sure as hell moving too slow… but it was nice. You couldn’t recall the last time a man was going down on you and seemed excited about it. Come to think of it, had any man ever been excited to go down on you?
The nerd certainly was, with his big, glassy eyes and perfectly plump lips parted in wonder. The way he kept looking up at you, eyes studying your face.
He loved to study you like this. You swore he was memorizing exactly what faces you made when he touched you in particular ways. It was infuriating and adorable. Which pretty much summed up your feelings about your tutor over all.
“Dammit, Stephen…” You huff impatiently, “At least fuck me with your fingers if you’re still too scared to use your tongue.”
“M’not scared,” He denies, lifting his head slightly to glare at you. “I just want to take my time… I want to make you feel good.”
“It’s not that hard—“
“Last week you were complaining about some meathead who couldn’t make you cum,” Stephen interjects. He gives a dry sort of smile and taunts, “That’s what you get for trying to fuck someone with an IQ lower than the number on the back of their jersey.” You begin to protest before promptly shutting your mouth.
He was right.
“Don’t know why you even bother with other guys,” He continues, a bit of jealousy seeping into his tone. “None of them will make you feel as good as I do, given the chance.” He ducks down, placing a kiss on your mound, making your hips jump. “And you know I’ll do anything for a chance at you, Prissy.”
“Fucks sake, Stephen,” You groan, the words of adoration only making you more and more impatient, “Please just touch me.”
Nerd!Stephen has done a bit of research on this subject, waiting patiently for his time to come. And yeah, maybe that research only consisted of watching porn, but he was making do with what he had. He had the general idea, now he just had to put it to action.
Nerd!Stephen leans forward slowly, still using his thumbs to keep you parted, and sticks out his tongue. He aims for your clit, the swollen little bud landing under the flat, fat meat of his tongue. You jump a bit at the contact, but a pleased sigh leaves your lips.
Letting saliva pool in his mouth, Stephen laps over your clit several more times, but softer than before, noticing just how sensitively you’d reacted to the first touch. At the same time, he watches in awe as your hips roll against him. Such a pretty, fluid motion. Desperate in a way he rarely got to see from you. Absolutely magnificent.
And God the way you tasted.
Ripe and sweet… like honey with a dash of salt. Earthy and pretty and unlike anything else he’d ever tasted.
He’s intoxicated.
You watch his eyes roll back in his skull each time his tongue gets another taste. He was getting drunk off this— off you. He was in fucking heaven.
You let out a small squeal followed by a lengthy moan as Stephen’s tongue travels lower, dipping into your sex. He gives his own moan at the sensation, slowly fucking his tongue into you.
“Oh, shit!” You keen, back arching, legs trying to close. Your chest heaves as he repeats the same action a few times before licking a long, thick stripe back up to your clit. “Baby, that feels so good,” You whine.
Stephen whimpers at the praise, resting his cheek against your thigh and lapping at your folds. Experimentally he takes one of your lower lips between his own and sucks, watching the pretty petal snap back into place as he releases it. You squirm, your ass lifting off the bed as he repeats the action on the other side.
You watch through hooded eyes as he moves onto his knees, the strain of his erection against his jeans looking positively painful. Instead of whipping it out like you expect him to, Stephen crawls forward and traps you between his arms. Leaning down, he presses a timid kiss to your lips, unsure at first as to whether or not you’d be into it after he’d just been sampling your cunt. He’s surprised and delighted when you reach up, threading your fingers through his hair and deepening the kiss.
You part your lips and lick at Stephen’s, a soft moan leaving your lips as your tongues tangle together in a messy kiss.
“My pussy tastes good on your tongue,” You murmur to him, gently scratching at his scalp. “You aren’t too bad at that, Strange.”
Nerd!Stephen practically glows with pride at the compliment, his cheeks turning pink at the compliment. He buries his face in your neck to hide his embarrassment and you give a small giggle that quickly turns into a drawn-out moan when Stephen starts sucking on your neck.
“Mm…” You hum as Stephen begins pawing at your shirt, clearly desperate to have it off. “You want me to take off my shirt, Baby?”
“Please,” He murmurs.
You nod and sit up on the bed, quickly stripping your shirt and laughing at the dumb look on Stephen’s face as your tits are places directly in his line of sight.
“So pretty…” He mumbles dumbly, tongue practically rolling out of his mouth.
You smile, reaching down and lifting Stephen’s head to look at you as you tease, “Awe, you think I’m pretty, Baby?” He nods quickly, always so eager to please.
“Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” He mumbles, pushing forward to press his lips against your neck.
You’re pressed back against the headboard, trapped between the hard wood and Stephen’s voracious touch. You gasp as Stephen suddenly plunges two fingers inside, a moan of unexpected bliss leaving your lips. You grasp at his shoulders, lips parted as you pant, your hips chasing his hand as he slowly fucks two fingers in and out of you.
He moans against your skin as you clench around him, your nails digging into his back. He loves it when you do that. He loves seeing the red crescent shapes molded against his skin the morning after.
Nerd!Stephen detaches himself from your neck, pulling away and looking into your eyes as he curls his fingers against your front wall. The sensation makes you jump, your brow tensing in pleasure.
The way your lips are parted in an ‘oh,’ your hands grasping at him and the pillows for support, the way you write beneath him….
“So beautiful…” He thinks to himself. But you squeak, your cheeks turning a feint shade of pink, and Stephen realizes he’s spoken aloud. But he doesn’t retract the statement. Instead, he doubles down. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Caught off guard by the sincerity and never one for romance, you snap, “I’m the only woman you’ve ever seen.”
He gives a slight smirk at the snark and says, “The only woman I ever want to see.”
Nerd!Stephen silences whatever smart ass comment is about to leave your mouth when he reaches up with his free hand and pulls his glasses from his face. He places them atop your head and requests, “Keep those safe for me.”
You don’t have time to object before he’s leaning down, his tongue working magic against your clit once more. You whine and moan, the headboard bumping gently against the wall. When you reach down and grab a fist full of Stephen’s hair, he moans into your cunt, the vibration making you shake.
He looks up at you with those big, blue eyes, intent with concentration and hooded with lust. God, you might melt. You’ve never seen anything as pretty as those eyes watching you as he nurses on your clit.
You don’t have time to warn him— don’t have time to say anything as your body tenses, all the air leaving your lungs as you cream around his fingers. You throw your head back, convulsing against the mattress as Stephen continues to flick his tongue against your clit. You see splotches of light behind your eyelids, your orgasm so intense you can’t seem to breathe. Each time you think you’re coming down from your high, another after shock would hit and you’d be left just as breathless as before. It was incredible. You’d never had an orgasm like it.
Nerd!Stephen can’t stop. It’s too good. It’s too fucking good. The way you look, feel, taste. Christ, is this how people got addicted to sex?
He knows your overstimulated, he can hear you begging him to slow down, but how can he? He could make you see stars again. He could give you pleasure beyond belief over and over. He could make you want him in this way. He could get you addicted. He could get you high. He could fuck you the way you deserved to be fucked. Better than any of the meatheads you normally gave your attention to. He could be everything you needed and more.
“Stephen— Jesus!” You cry out. You almost sound broken and it makes him puff with pride. “S-Steph, I’m gonna’— s’too much!”
And like any gentleman would do, he starts sucking on your clit again, intent to make you cum more than your fair share for the night.
Nerd!Stephen doesn’t flinch when your thighs clamp around his head. He doesn’t panic or move to pry them away. He quite liked the predicament he was in. He doesn’t try to shoulder out or move for air. Instead, he lets out a deep groan, his cock throbbing as he cums in his jeans like the virgin he is.
He couldn’t help it. It was just too good. It was all too much and not enough. He’d go back home tonight and fist his cock if you didn’t do it for him, and he’d do it to the image of your eyes screwed shut and whimpers dripping from your parted lips.
Nerd!Stephen looks up to see if you may have noticed his own release , only to find you lost in the throes of your own ecstasy. The two of you have shifted once more, your back now firmly against the mattress and head propped up on the pillows. Your chest heaves, breasts bouncing each time you quiver or shake, hands gripping at the sheets beside you.
Your head is thrown back on a moan, but when you lift it once more, Stephen finds his glasses perched crooked on your nose, slightly fogged up, and you too dumb to care.
Thinking about nerd!Stephen who doesn’t have much practical experience, but he’s seen enough. He’s read enough to know what he’s supposed to do. And maybe if he could impress you, he could get just a bit farther?
18+ below the cut!!!
So, one night as you’re making out, he reaches over and trails his fingers beneath the hem of your skirt. And if the hitch of your breath is any indication, you’re surprised at his boldness, but you don’t stop him.
Nerd!Stephen who pushes his hand farther up, his movements feeling both mechanical and unsure. Part of his nervousness fades when you shift, parting your legs a bit more in invitation. He practically vibrates with excitement, wondering if you can feel him shaking. Wondering if you can see the outline of his already stiffening cock inside his jeans.
You pull back from his lips and raise a challenging brow. You want him to push the limit, want him to prove himself.
“Y-you’re sure?” He asks softly.
“Are you?” You toss back casually.
Stephen swallows hard but presses forward, reaching between your legs and cupping your core. The plushness of your thighs squeezes his forearm, and he’s shocked by how warm you are. Gently he moves his palm up and down, his middle finger unintentionally parting your lips. Then he feels the wet spot on your panties, and he moans.
Nerd!Stephen who can’t believe he’s got you wet just from making out. Maybe not quite as excited as you made him, but fuck, it felt like an accomplishment all the same. He gently pulls your panties to the side and wonders what they look like.
“Pink cotton,” You answer, “A thong.” Stephen’s cheeks flush as he realizes he’d asked the question allowed. You tease further, “Maybe I’ll let you see ‘em if you can make me cum.”
Stephen nods, “I can make you… cum.”
“Prove it,” You shrug.
Stephen gingerly uses his thumb to part your lips, moving it upward to search for your clit. He knew the general area it should be in, but he’d also read that it could be offset or hidden. Luckily for him, he’d spent enough time looking at your face and studying the slightest sounds that indicated your pleasure. He knew when your lashes fluttered the way they were right now, he was doing something right.
He slowly and carefully searches for your entrance, swallowing hard as your slick clings to his finger. You slouch a bit on the couch beside him, jutting your hips forward. It was a small act of mercy, but an act of mercy nonetheless. With the new angle, he feels less resistance and is comfortable enough to gently slide his middle finger into you. He watches your face carefully, looking for any acute signs of discomfort, but all he finds his a slight tense in your brow.
“Doesn’t hurt, right?” He checks quietly.
You shake your head and promise, “You can’t hurt me, Stephen.”
“Very sensitive area,” He mutters, “Anyone without experience could fuck it up. Don’t wanna’ fuck it up. Just want you to feel good.”
“Then add another finger or two,” You demand.
Nerd!Stephen who marvels at the ease with which you take in another one of his fingers. His bottom lip drawn between his teeth as he pumps his fingers in and out of you at a torturously slow pace. He can’t help it. He feels the need to be gentle. He wants to reach deep inside you while also giving your clit plenty of attention. He wants to watch you come undone.
You give an annoyed huff when he withdraws his fingers suddenly and unannounced. He holds them up in front of his face, turning them this way and that. He was enamored with the sight, the way it glistened in the soft pink light coming from the lava lamp on your desk. Blood rushes to his groin at the sight, imagining it was his cock coated with your arousal rather than his fingers.
Nerd!Stephen who can’t quell the urge, his curiosity too strong not to bring his fingers to his lips and taste you on his tongue. His quickly hardening cock jumps as soon as he smells you, and it aches as the honey-like substance touches his tongue. Your lips part in a silent gasp, eyes getting slightly wide. The response has Stephen glowing. So rarely was he able to shock you, but he had done it this time.
“Tastes good,” He says, the words coming from somewhere deep in his chest, “Tastes like you.”
You swallow hard but harden your voice to ask, “What the hell else would it taste like?”
“Not sure. I’ll let you know if I ever taste anyone else.”
You snarl at this, leaning down and grabbing Stephen’s shirt collar as you hiss, “I ever hear you’re entertaining another girl, I’ll blacklist you on this campus, Strange. If you want me, you want only me. Got it?”
The pull on his collar forces Stephen’s crotch against the couch. As subtly as possible he grinds his hard-on against the solid surface, choking back a moan that attempts to force its way up his throat. You’d never let him hear the end of it if you saw him humping the furniture like a dog.
“Jeez,” He huffs, “No need to sound so jealous, Prissy. I was just answering your question.”
You roll your eyes and shove him away, demanding, “Either keep finger-fucking me or get the hell out.”
“Whatever you say, Princess.”
Nerd!Strange who would have never spoken to you like that a month ago, but slowly he’s getting more and more comfortable with you. His ultimate goal is still to submit to you, to follow your whim, to please you; But he wants more than that. He wants the banter and the snappy comments. He likes the tension.
But obediently, he reaches back toward your core and teases your clit, his touch a tad rougher than before. You relax back into the couch, your perfectly manicured nails gripping the cushions. Stephen still wanted to see you, but you hadn’t permitted him, and he wasn’t looking to push his boundaries any further tonight. So blindly he put his coordination to use to please you.
This time he works you up the three fingers, and the third makes you gasp. The third makes you pay attention to him. Wanting to keep that attention, Stephen begins moving his fingers faster. He grins as a lewd, wet sound begins sounding from between your legs, the liquid coating his entire hand and easing the friction of his thumb against your clit.
Your head begins nodding involuntarily as you encourage, “Right there, Steph. Keep fucking me right there.”
Nerd!Stephen who nearly cums from the breathy tone of your voice. You just sounded so pretty. If he closed his eyes he could imagine you were saying the same with his cock buried inside you. He could imagine you underneath him, your hands in his hair, your warmth wrapped around him.
Oh, fuck.
“I want you to cum so bad, “Stephen pleads, “God, please, Princess. Just want to know I make you feel good.”
You give a little whine, hips shifting once more as you promise, “I do feel good, Steph. You’re making me feel so good, Baby. Don’t stop. I’m almost there.” You sit up and lean forward, pressing your lips to his briefly before asking, “Can you feel it? Can you feel my pussy clenching around your fingers? You’re making her feel so good.”
Stephen moans at the dirty talk, desperately tilting his head upward and clumsily pressing his lips to yours again. As a bonus, because you’re distracted, he can continue grinding his hard-on against the couch. He can continue imagining the pressure is from your tight cunt sucking him in.
Nerd!Stephen who cums before you but does his best to hide it, pulling away from your kiss to bury his face in your neck. When he bites your shoulder to muffle the sound of his release, you cum as well, your legs clamping around his arm and hole choking his fingers.
“Oh my— fuck! Stephen!” You cry out, grabbing at his shoulders for stability as you roll your hips to work yourself through the orgasm.
Your hands fly to his face, pulling his attention back to you and your lips. You kiss him furiously, kiss him like you mean it. And fuck, that makes him melt. His whole body turns to jelly when you kiss him like that, carding your fingers through his hair and stroking your thumbs over his cheekbones.
“That felt so good, Stephen,” You mutter into his mouth, “You did so good for me.”
Nerd!Stephen who whimpers at your praise, pulling away with foggy glasses and big eyes.
Nerd!Stephen who could cum again when you put your knees together, hike up your skirt, lift up your ass, and quickly pull your panties off.
You toss them into his lap, not saying a word, but fulfilling your earlier promise.
“I want them back eventually. Try not to cum in on them too many times.”
^^^ very this energy tonight. thank you to @amaratas for the idea :)) no smut, a lil' angst, a lot of fluff.
warnings: alcohol, drunkenness, cheating.
word count: 5,402
Nerd!Stephen jumps a mile high when his phone goes off at ten o’clock on a Friday night.
That never happened to him.
Even stranger, the ringtone that came out of the phone was “Candy Shop” by 50 Cent, which he most certainly had not purchased on his own accord.
But of course, he knew who would.
Nerd!Strange rubs his eyes, reaching for his phone and flipping it open. As expected, he sees your name lit up on the display.
You’ve never called him before. Hell, the two of you hardly ever texted aside from the occasional confirmation of a tutoring session or perhaps a cheeky comment on events that had transpired during the so-called tutoring session. But… even that had come to a slow stop since you started talking to some new guy at the start of the month. You were so stereotypically popular girl on the outside, but your moral compass was a bit different than those you hung out with. More simply put: You were loyal.
You hadn’t laid a hand on him since you started dating this dumb ass jock— not so much as a flirty comment. He was suffering.
This phone call was a welcome development.
Pressing the answer call button he puts the phone to his ear and answers, “Hello?”
“Stephen?” You ask, “Stephen s’that you?” You slur out.
Nerd!Strange immediately goes on high alert. He knew something was wrong. He could tell you were blasted from the simple five words you’d said. You were typically so articulate— even if it was in a colder, crueler manner. But now you sounded out of it, as though you weren’t certain the words you said were leaving your lips at all.
For all the partying you did, you had a strict rule about not getting drunk. Your sorority was insane about anything that could be perceived as disorderly conduct and you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your PR position. So something was very wrong.
“Hey Prissy,” Stephen says again, voice softer but more alert, “what’s going on?”
He can hear the bump of music in the background mixed with a cacophony of voices; Yelling, laughter, the sound of a splash followed by cheering.
“I-I was gonna’ ask you for somethin’ but now… now you picked up n’ I feel weird,” You answer. “Because it’s late n’ I didn’t really ‘spect you to answer.”
“Well I’m here,” Stephen reassures. “I’m awake. What did you wanna’ ask me?”
There’s a pause, a random whoop from a male voice followed by what sounds like another splash and a round of applause.
“I um…” You give a little hiccup before replying, “I guess I was just wondering— well, I was wondering’ somethin’. But now I don’t think maybe you should? It’s late, you know? It is late, right?” You reiterate your same hesitancy as before. “I don’t know, my head hurts and I can’t think…” You rush out, all of your words slurred into one another in an embarrassed, obviously drunken stupor. “So, I guess actually never mind. I shouldn’t’ve called, m’sorry. I’m gonna’ go—”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Stephen exclaims, already on his feet searching for a pair of socks to pull onto his feet. “You’re okay, you can talk to me. What’s wrong? Talk to me, Prissy.”
“M’at a party,” You say sadly. “It’s loud.”
“I know, I can hear,” Stephen agrees. “Is that all that’s wrong?”
“No…” you say, voice cracking. “I… I saw something I didn’t wanna’ see. And then I drank but I don’t drink n’ so I drank too much. N’ now everything is spinny and I wanna’ cry.”
Stephen nods though you can’t see him. Gently he asks, “Do you want to leave?”
“Y-yeah,” You agree. “Wanna’ go. Wanted to come see you. It… it’s quiet with you. Need things to be quiet.”
“Alright.” Stephen has already shoved on his shoes and is in the midst of dragging a sweatshirt over his head. He fumbles around in the dim light, looking for his apartment keys as he says, “I’m gonna’ come get you, okay? Where are you at?”
“M’at… a house,” You say very helpfully.
Stephen holds back a sigh and presses, “What house, Prissy?”
“Oh, um… hold on a sec.” Stephen hears your phone bump against something and then your muffled voice along with another much louder one. After a couple of long, worrisome minutes your voice returns. “I… I don’t know the exact address, m’sorry. But you know Riverside Drive? S’one of the houses there.”
“Riverside Drive is good, thank you,” Stephen agrees, taking the steps downstairs two at a time. “I’m gonna’ get a cab and I’ll be there soon. Will you do me a favor and wait out front? Don’t wait too close to the street, stay back by the house!” He specifies quickly. “But be waiting for me, okay?”
“C’n I sit on the porch?” You ask.
“Yeah. The porch is a good place to wait. I’ll come get you when I’m there.”
“‘Kay,” You murmur. “I um… my phone’s almost dying. I should hang up now so it doesn’t die, right?”
“That’s a good idea,” Stephen agrees. “Hang up but keep it on in case I need to call you, yeah?”
“Yeah. M’goin’ to the porch now.”
“Okay. Sit and wait for me. I’ll be about thirty minutes.”
You give a little whine, “Thirty?”
“Prissy, what do you want me to do, Sweetheart? I live off campus. Just sit tight. I’ll be there as soon as I can— and don’t drink any more, okay?”
“M’kay,” You say with a heavy sigh.
“I’ll see you soon.”
“See… soon,” You say before promptly hanging up.
***
Nerd!Stephen apologizes to the cab driver as they drive slowly down Riverside Drive. The driver waves him off, and to Stephen’s delight, takes him straight to the correct house.
At least it seemed like the correct house. All of the lights were on, the sidewalk, porch, and bottom floor littered with party-goers. Trashy music was pumping from speakers somewhere behind the house, and there were plenty of drunks in a stupor speaking way too loudly.
Stephen pauses before leaving the cab and promises, “I’ll be right back.”
The driver shrugs, “Meter’s runnin’, Kid. It’s on your dime.”
Nerd!Stephen shuts the door behind him, immediately shoving his hands in his pockets, shoulders tensing at the nip of the air. He makes his way up the driveway, his head low and hood pulled over his head. He didn’t like it here. It was too overstimulating— too much of everything. From the number of people to the music to the conversations to the smells. It was all just too much.
He’d never understand how you did this. How could you stand wading through the sea of people, drinks spilling, laughter echoing, off-handed remarks from people you barely knew? And you knew so many people. It was practically your job as PR chair for your sorority.
You didn’t just know these people, you knew about them. You knew who to go to when you needed a favor, who to talk to when something got out of hand, who could offer support— particularly monetary support. You were good at what you did from what he’d seen, but Stephen couldn’t understand why you did it at all.
Nerd!Stephen stops in his tracks when he looks up from the pavement to find you on the porch— not in fact sitting and waiting patiently— but rather standing on one of the outdoor tables dancing.
Nerd!Stephen, despite his initial shock and judgment, has to admit you look gorgeous. One of your signature miniskirts sits on your hips. Tonight it’s a light blue denim skirt with silver gems in the shape of hearts on the butt pockets. You wear a hot pink spaghetti strap tank top layered over another electric blue tank with thicker straps. He’d love to know what shoes you were wearing but they weren’t currently on your feet. Your hair looked as perfect as ever, and it always looked perfect, though even from several yards away he could tell that you mascara was starting to run.
Heaving a sigh, Stephen sets forward, walking up the porch steps and stopping in front of the table you’re currently dancing on. A small crowd has gathered by your side, whistling and jeering you on. Girls giggle and whisper to one another, boys smirk and strip you down with their eyes.
One guy drops his cup beneath the table, the liquid spilling over the porch and bleeding through the cracks in the wood. He takes his time bending down to pick it up, and then shamelessly looks up, taking in a full view of what’s hidden under your skirt.
Nerd!Stephen scowls and stomps over. He shoves his way through the crowd, his broad shoulders the only thing giving him any edge on the jocks staring with their mouths open like you’re a piece of meat. He blanches at the sight. None of them should be seeing you like this— much less touching you in this state. Stephen silently seethes as some rando reaches out to try and pet you, though you swat the wandering hand away.
Having seen more than enough of this spectacle, Stephen reaches out and bangs against the metal table, the vibration traveling up his arms.
You don’t seem to notice though, arms thrown above your head as you sway your hips to the music. You spin in a circle before dropping it low and then resting on your knees. You swing your head back and forth, hair flying around in far too glamorous a manner for the current setting.
“Prissy!” He calls over the music, but you’re too in your zone to take notice.
You manage to stand back up, hands reaching for the sky as you spin in a circle, your eyes closed as you feel your own imaginary beat, a silent sort of intent etched into your features.
If only he could get you to focus like that during a study session.
Stephen huffs and reaches out, gently taking hold of your wrist. You whip your head around toward him, eyes blazing and lips parted as though you intend to tell him off for daring to touch you. Luckily, you recognize him in your drunken haze and the fire melts away, immediately replaced with something more akin to embarrassment.
“Let’s go,” Stephen grits out, not angry with you, but incredibly on edge with the small crowd gathered around listening to and watching his every move. “Now.”
Your brow tenses, bottom lip jutting out into a pout. “I didn’t… are you mad at me?”
Stephen gives a soft sigh, takes in a deep breath, and denies, “No, I’m not mad, Prissy. I just…” He glances nervously toward the Peeping Tom he’d caught in the act. He lowers his voice and explains, “I just want to get you out of here. It doesn’t feel safe.”
You seem to relax a bit at this, nodding your understanding. You slowly sit, legs hanging off the table and look down at your feet, declaring, “I’m not wearing shoes.”
Stephen smiles a bit at this and agrees, “No, you’re not. Where are they?”
“They’re...” You gesture vaguely to the outdoor couch sitting against the wall. “I tripped n’ took ‘em off,” You say, pointing to your knee that’s been thoroughly scratched up.
You crouch down, getting yourself lower to the surface of the table so you can sit and slide off. Stephen offers you his hand and instead of letting you sit on the filthy tabletop, he extends an arm and swiftly pulls you to his side. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, legs around his waist, a soft squeak leaving your parted lips at the sudden action.
Soft jeers sound from the surrounding crowd, a few boys whistling, and some of the girls behind you whispering.
Nerd!Strange can feel you staring up at him wide-eyed as he reaches over and snatches up your wedges from the couch. He can hear different conversations breaking out around you.
“Hey, Y/N! Who’s your new boyfriend?”
“Have you ever seen him before?”
“No… he’s kinda’ cute.”
“Wait, does she know him?”
“There are bedrooms upstairs if you two need one!”
As quickly as possible, Stephen scales down the porch steps and sets off back toward the cab. You rest your cheek against his shoulder, listening to the noise from the party fade as Stephen walks toward the road. The sidewalk seems to move swiftly beneath you. Stephen’s gait is large and steady, the subtle sway causing your eyes to grow heavy.
“I din’t know you were so strong…” You mumble into his shoulder. “S’hot.”
Stephen gives a small chuckle at this but denies, “I’m not really that strong, Prissy. Just fit enough to get by.”
You agree, “You are fit. You’ve got abs n’ nice arms.” Stephen snorts at this, but you insist, “I bet if you dressed better people’d notice more often.”
“Don’t care if people notice or not.”
“I’d notice…” You say, “I’d like it.”
Stephen seems to contemplate before admitting, “I would care about that.”
You give a pleased-sounding hum at that. The gentle sway of Stephen’s gait stops as Stephen pulls open the cab door. Stephen presses your face to his chest and a covers the top of your head with one hand as he slides the two of you into the cab. He shuts the door and asks, “Where are you going, Prissy? Back to the GBP house?”
“No,” You murmur. “It’s stupid there, I don’ wanna’ go there.” You pull your face from his chest and stare up at him teary-eyed, “C’n I go home with you? I-I can sleep on tha’ floor or somethin’—“
Stephen doesn’t let you finish, simply giving the cab driver his address and relaxing back into the seat. He keeps one hand wrapped around his waist and the other cradling the back of your head, protecting you from bumping it against the hard window. You settle into his embrace, a small pout on your lips.
“The music’s’too loud,” You mutter.
Stephen looks down at you and informs, “There’s no music playing.”
You blink up at him, “Are you sure?”
“Um… yeah, I’m sure. Jeez, Prissy, just how much did you drink?” You give a small shrug. “You don’t usually drink this much. Not enough to call me, anyway. What happened?”
Your eyes flit toward the cab driver before you mutter, “Don’ wanna’ talk ‘bout it.”
Stephen seems to get the hint and agrees, “Okay. We don’t have to talk about it then.”
“‘Kay…” You yawn, “M’gonna… wanna take a nap.”
“You can. I’ll have to wake up when we get to my place.”
“Mm…” You hum before knocking out.
He’d never seen you messy like this. Never seen or heard you wasted. He knew from conversation that you didn’t like being like this, so he couldn’t help but wonder what had pushed you past your limit for the night. Your emotions tended to run high, but you could usually keep a level head when in the public eye.
Whatever had happened was no business of his for now. He just wanted to see to it that you got a good night’s sleep somewhere safe.
***
Nerd!Stephen helps you stumble up his apartment steps, legs wobbling like a baby giraffe. In all honesty, whatever you were doing couldn’t be defined as walking. You were only getting from point A to point B thanks to Stephen practically dragging you.
“Are we there yet?” You whine, vision blurry as you look at the moving stairs.
“Almost there, Prissy,” He agrees, sounding slightly out of breath.
Outside his apartment, he props you against the wall and quickly unlocks the door, ushering you inside.
It’s dark. The one little rectangular window you can make out above his kitchenette not letting much light into the room. It was a small room. It couldn’t have been much bigger than your own in the sorority house… and his included his kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom all in one.
It was surprisingly tidy. Most boys rooms were icky… trash everywhere and the smell of BO. Stephen’s wasn’t icky. It was spotless, actually. And the only smell was him.
“M’tired,” You mumble, leaning back against the door. “Can I go to bed?”
Stephen nods but asks, “Don’t you wanna’ change clothes first? Or maybe… I dunno’, eat something? Drink some water?”
You frown, bottom lip sticking out into a pout, “I don’t have clothes.”
“You can just wear some of mine?” He suggests.
You consider a moment before relenting a nod, “Okay.”
“Okay,” Stephen agrees. “Stand right there.”
You nod and watch as he walks over to a chest of drawers against the wall. An old TV sits atop it, facing his bed. Some books are stacked next to it, as well as some binders. He loved binders.
And apparently music. Band posters were plastered on nearly every inch of wall space available around his bed. You couldn’t exactly make them all out at the moment, but you could see AC/DC… KISS… those were the big letters.
You barely notice he’s returned to your side until you feel a soft hand on your arm.
He puts a balled-up tee in your hands and nods to another door next to the chest of drawers, “Bathroom through that door. I um… there’s some face wash on the counter too if you want that.”
You shake your head, “Can’t see me without makeup.”
His brows knit together, “Can’t? Why not?”
“Mm… don’t look as good,” You try to explain. “Skin’s all blotchy and I’ve got pimples… n’ I just look better like this.” You walk toward the bathroom unsteadily and promise, “Be right back.”
You manage to shimmy out of your tight skirt somehow. Though it does somehow get caught on one of your platform wedges. You finally rip it off and the wedge flys through the air, smacking into the shower wall and landing in the bathtub with a heavy thunk.
“Everything okay?” You hear Stephen call from outside.
“Y-yea!” You call back, tugging off the other wedge and throwing it to the ground, “M’okay!”
“Okay…” He answers, sounding not entirely convinced.
Finding the toilet, you sit down and take a quick pee. At the same time, you peel your tube top off and unfasten your bra. You let your shoulders slump, leaning against the bathroom counter and fighting the urge to close your eyes.
Finally, you stand and flush the toilet, stumbling against the sink and turning on the water. You wash your hands slowly, fascinated by the feel of the water flowing between your fingers.
You look at the various toiletries laid out on the sink; Toothbrush, toothpaste, a comb, some styling product that you don’t think he’d ever used before in his life, cologne, deodorant, and the face wash. It was one of those ones you saw advertisements for all the time. You think you might have used the same one in high school? You can’t remember now.
For a long time you debate whether or not to use it. You really should. Your skin always looked awful when you left your makeup on overnight. Besides, it felt so nice to have a clean face.
But it felt even better to look hot. You didn’t feel that way with your bare face. Besides, you didn’t want to shatter the fantasy Stephen had created of you in his mind.
Yeah, it was better to leave the makeup on.
You finally tug the tee over your head, pleased by the softness of the material. Reaching up, you tie your hair into a
bun at the top of your head.
You walk back out into the main room and find Stephen sitting on the edge of his bed, hands clasped together as he stares at the floor. Those floorboards creek as you reenter the room and his head snaps up toward you. His gaze softens as it lands on you, eyes carefully observing the sight of you in his shirt.
He pats the bed next to him and entices, “C’mere. Got you some grapes.”
You feel your eyes light up at the offering. You scamper over, crawling onto the bed and sitting cross-cross. Stephen hands you a small bowl of freshly washed grapes and you immediately begin devouring them.
He smiles, reaching over and pulling a glass of water from his nightstand. He watches you eat your grapes in silence before suggesting, “Drink a bit of this, Prissy.” You turn your nose up, shoveling several more grapes into your mouth and he sighs. “Look, it’ll make waking up easier, right? You don’t even have to drink the whole glass. Just take a few sips for me.”
You give a little grunt but place the glass in your lap. You reach out, carefully taking the glass from his hands. You spill a bit on the mattress and mutter, “Fuck… dammit.”
“It’s alright,” He soothes. “Just water. It’ll dry.”
You nod, relieved you haven’t upset him, and take a small sip of the water. In all fairness, it tastes a lot better than the many, many spiked punches you’d had that evening.
Seemingly content with this progress, Stephen stands from the bed and announces, “I’m going to get ready for bed. I’ll be in the bathroom if you need me. I’m not gonna’ shower or anything, so it shouldn’t take long.
You nod, scooting back on the bed so your back is against the wall, your grapes still firmly in hand, a few more droplets of water splashing out the side of the cup. Stephen gives you a lopsided smile and stands from the bed with a sigh, reaching over and grabbing some clothes he’d found for himself while you were changing.
Nerd!Stephen closes the bathroom door and smiles as he looks around at your clothes strewn about… where was your other shoe?
***
Nerd!Stephen comes back out into his room, face washed, teeth brushed, and pajamas on, he finds you now sitting with your back to him looking up at his wall. Your eyes travel slowly over the posters one by one, your lips moving as you read silently. The grape bowl had been discarded to your side, but the water glass was now held up to those barely moving lips. Every once in a while you would pause, taking a small sip from it.
“You um… you ready to sleep?” Stephen asks, trying not to startle you.
“I like your posters,” You reply softly, eyes going in and out of focus.
“Oh, thanks,” He says, reaching back to rub at his neck. It always hurt. All of his hobbies including craning his neck up or down for long periods of time. “You uh… you like Green Day, right? You have one of their posters. And The Cranberries.”
You nod slowly, “Yeah. But none of the other girls really listen to them,” You say wistfully, You reach up and point to the Nirvana poster, “I’ve been getting into their stuff recently too.”
“Yeah? They’re really good,” Stephen says, walking over to the bed and shoving his hands into the pockets of his flannel pants.
“Yeah…”
“You know, if you ever wanted to talk about music or… I dunno’ go to a concert… I think it’d be fun,” Stephen offers without too much thought.
Not like you’d remember any of this in the morning anyway.
He hoped you wouldn’t at least. You seemed to be slowly sobering up.
You turn and look at him over your shoulder, eyes heavy but still somehow full of light. Teasingly you ask, “Did you just ask me on a date, Strange?”
“W-what?” Stephen sputters out, cheeks turning red at the accusation. “No! I was just… I just thought since you said none of your friends are really into the same music you’re into—“
“That’s too bad,” You shrug, turning back around to continue your study of the posters, “I think it’d make a good date.”
Rocking back on his heels Stephen asks skeptically, “Would… would you have said yes? If it were a date?”
“Guess we’ll never know,” You murmur, humor evident in your tone.
Stephen gives something between a huff and a laugh before asking once more, “Are you ready for bed, Prissy?”
You give small sigh and turn to face him, nodding as you extend the glass of water his way. Stephen takes both it and the bowl formerly full of grapes and walks them to the sink.
Behind him you ask, “Do you want me to sleep on the floor? I really don’t mind—“
“You aren’t sleeping on the floor, Prissy. Take the bed. I’ll take the floor,” He answers definitively.
You frown, “I… are you sure? I feel bad.”
“Don’t feel bad. I’m offering,” He answers, walking back over to the bed and plucking one of the two pillows from atop the mattress. “Accidentally fallen asleep down here plenty of times while studying… better than falling asleep at my desk at least.”
Your frown deepens before you suggest, “What if we just… shared the bed?”
Stephen pauses at this. He looks you up and down as if trying to physically assess whether or not you’re sober enough to be making such an offer.
He was a good guy.
It was literally the bare minimum, but it was more than most frat boys you know would do. Or… less than most frat boys would do, you supposed.
“I promise it’s okay,” You say. “Besides… it’s nice sleeping next to someone. I… I could use it right now.”
Stephen’s eyes go wide as your bottom lip wobbles. He quickly chucks the pillow back onto the bed and takes a seat next to you. That’s all it takes for you to throw your arms around his neck, leaning against him and letting out a sob.
Nerd!Stephen is woefully unprepared to comfort a female in distress. He’d never been good at comforting anyone. But he puts an arm around you and lets you cry for a while in silence, his hand gently running up and down your back.
“C-can we lay down?” You sob out, “M’head hurts s’bad.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Stephen nods quickly, turning around to rearrange the pillows before guiding you to crawl onto the bed.
Once you’re settled, Stephen turns and lays next to you, frowning at your blotchy face in the dim light of the lamp on his bedside table. You give a little groan and roll closer to him, burying your face in his chest.
Stephen resumes his position, a hand on your back and his chin resting lightly against the top of your head. He lets you take a moment to settle, listening to your sniffles and unadulterated sobs.
Maybe you were still drunk? Drunk enough to break down in front of him of all people. Or maybe it was because it was him. Because you didn’t feel the need to put on your perfect, preppy, prissy little sorority girl act in front of him.
Nerd!Strange finds some odd pride in that fact.
“What happened?” He finally asks, voice an octave lower, a touch softer than normal. “What’s wrong?”
You sniffle and ask, “Y-you remember the guy you saw me with the other day in the library?”
Oh yes, Stephen remembered. Remembered the gut-wrenching jealousy he’d experienced seeing another guy wrap you up in his arms and run his hands all over your body. Some meathead still wearing a varsity jacket from high school.
“Yeah,” Stephen answers, sounding a bit hoarse.
“H-he w-was with a-a-another girl,” You sob out. “He w-was kissing her r-right in front of me! I o-only w-went to that stupid party for him! H-he invited me! It’s why I moved our F-Friday session to t-t-tomorrow!”
Stephen lets out a deep sigh, resting his head against the top of yours and mutters, “I’m sorry. That’s… that’s really messed up.”
“I know, right!” You exclaim, tears still streaming down your face. “A-and she wasn’t—“ You hiccup in the middle of your rant, “W-wasn’t even as pretty as me!” Despite the tears you shed as you say it, Stephen can’t help but chuckle. You pull away from him and give his arm a weak swat, whining, “S’not funny, Stephen!”
He rushes to correct, “No! No, of course it isn’t. I’m only— I just think it’s good you know how pretty you are, Prissy. Good that you’ve got confidence.”
You nod and answer in a huff, “I do.”
“I know,” He rubs his hand over your back softly, nodding along to everything you say. “You’re confident and… and fucking gorgeous. So why are you sitting here crying over some loser who peaked in high school?” You give a little giggle to this and Stephen continues, “I mean, c’mon… who still wears their varsity jacket after high school? Really, you could do a lot better than that, Prissy.”
You give a small hum in agreement, “I could do better. He wasn’t even smart. He could only speak in three to five word sentences.”
Stephen scoffs, looking over your sad face and tired eyes, “Sounds riveting.”
“Well not every guy is as smart as you are, Nerd,” You say dryly, pushing your shoulder gently into his side, reaching up to wipe the fresh mascara streaks off your face.
“If he were half as smart as I was, he would’ve known how crazy lucky he was to have a shot with you,” Stephen murmurs softly.
Your eyes grow heavier by the moment, eyelids drooping as you turn to stare up at him. Stephen’s heart pounds against his chest as you lean over and place a soft kiss against his cheek. His entire body goes rigid, afraid you might try something more in your drunken state.
But you don’t. Instead, you just pull back to look at him and murmur, “You’re sweet, Stephen. Thanks…” You give a small yawn, letting your head sink into the pillow before finishing, “for tonight.”
Nerd!Strange feels his heart stutter at the sweet sentiment. He gives a soft smile and murmurs, “Any time, Prissy.” You give a sleepy smile and snuggle closer, burying your face in his chest. “Sleep well.”
this was inspired by an author who writes nerd!miguel o'hara, but i cannot find them at the moment. i will update with their name asap.
this also hasn't been proof read, just a quick write :) hope you still like it.
nerd!stephen who has literally never had any real sexual experience and can't last once the campus socialite finally touches him for the first time :(( she's kinda' mean, but she's so gorgeous and she's willing to touch him!
18+ below the cut!!!
He’d never fucked anyone. Obviously, he’d never fucked anyone. He’d never even kissed anyone besides you— not really. It would destroy his status as a complete loser. And he was a complete loser, but he happened to be cuter than most losers. Perhaps slightly less morally obligated as well. His academic integrity could take a hit at least.
He didn’t seem too concerned with integrity at all for the time being.
His chest heaves beneath your hands. You can feel his heartbeat in your fingertips, the rapid thrum of adrenaline. He’d never been in this position with another girl, that much you knew, but it was so sweet to hear him say it.
“D’you think about me, Strange?” You purr, running your hands up his chest to his neck, “D’you touch yourself when you think about me?”
You feel him swallow, your palm now partially resting atop his Adam’s apple. He nods his head, the light from the bedside lamp catching against the wire-frames of his glasses, creating a glint that must have been reflected in your own eyes.
“Say it, Sweetheart,” You coo down at him, running your thumb gently over the lump in his throat, making him shiver.
His lips part as if to speak, but nothing leaves them at first. He pants, his eyes rolling back slightly before he squeezes them shut, attempting to gain some semblance of self control.
He was so cute when he got like this. So needy and tongue-tied. His pale skin was flushed pink, his ears nearly red. He was warm to the touch everywhere, and though you were sure he was hard, you refused to shift your weight back and find out for certain.
You liked to play with your food.
“I-I touch myself when I think about you,” He finally murmurs, eyes still closed.
You tut and reach one hand farther up, grabbing him by the cheeks and demanding, “Look at me and try again, Strange.”
His eyes flutter open, long lashes brushing across the bags of his eyes. One too many sleepless nights spent studying or researching or whatever the hell else lonely nerds do.
“I touch myself thinking of you,” He repeats, this time slightly more confident. He’s even so bold as to admit, “I pull up your MySpace page and… and I look at your photos while I do it.”
You on a fake pout and release your hold on his face, replacing it with a soft, stroking motion as you tease, “You’re such a perv. Stroking your cock to photos of me while I have no idea.”
He shifts beneath you, no doubt growing restless from your dirty talk. Taking small mercy on him, you lean down and brush your lips against his. He responds immediately, craning his neck upwards to apply more force. He’d been looking for any excuse to kiss you again since the first time and he’d found many since then.
It had started with you needing help with a research paper. You traded a kiss for a B. You got an A.
Of course, it had also turned into a full on make out sesh less than a minute in, but what could you say? He was… charming. In his own nerdy, losery, uptight sort of way.
After that… he just sort of became your play thing. He was willing. It was still an exchange of sorts; You got to blow off steam and show a side of yourself that no frat boy would ever deem appropriate, and he got some sort of sexual experience under his belt.
Pulling away from the kiss right as you’d given him his first taste of tongue, you say softly, “You know, Stephen, you’ve been so good for me recently. I was thinking you might deserve a reward.”
“A reward?” He repeats, already breathless, his eyes bleary, “What… what kind of reward?”
You lean down and suck on his bottom lip, pulling back and letting it snap into place before suggesting, “I thought I’d play with your cock for you tonight. If that’s something you’d like?”
His breath hitches, but he immediately whimpers out a, “Yes, please.”
Oh, God. It drove you crazy when he whimpered like that. He was so desperate. He just wanted to feel your touch so badly.
You nod, moving down his body slowly. You hook your thumbs in the waistband of his jeans and give a teasing tug. His hips shift frantically as if hoping they may slide off without undoing the button or zipper.
You give him a stern look and demand, “Be still.”
He immediately goes still, his hands already balled into fists at his side. You sit on your knees between his legs, running a hand over his thigh, and his leg twitches. Your eyes flicker up to him and you find excitement but slight trepidation in his irises.
“Don’t worry, Baby. I’ll make you feel good,” You promise, running your hand up and over his abdomen, “My fingers will feel so nice wrapped around your cock.”
To add emphasis, you finally palm his erection, just barely ghosting your hand over it. He jumps a bit and you giggle, biting into your bottom lip at the sight. He was so sensitive, so responsive.
“T-that feels good,” He stutters out.
You laugh and berate slightly, “I’m barely touching you yet, Baby,” You pop open the button on his jeans and slowly undo the zipper, “I bet that feels good, hm? Letting me take some of the pressure off your aching cock.”
He nods quickly, “Feels so good.”
Now, you place your fingers in his waistband and actually tug his pants down. You trace the outline of his erection with your eyes, your own core tingling at the sight.
The nerd was packing.
"C-can I see you?" He stutters out.
You arch a brow at him and ask, "What do you wanna' see?"
His jaw ticks as he whispers, "I want to see you... naked."
You bark out a laugh and deny, "No. You'll have to keep dreaming about that."
His lips turn downward, but he's brave enough to ask, "When will I get to see you?"
You rest your hands against his thighs and look up at the ceiling, pretending to think before responding, "When I feel like it," You look back down at him and ask, "You still want a handjob? Or are we gonna' argue?"
He gives a small huff, but he knows better than to argue, instead agreeing eagerly, "A handjob, please."
You give a pleased hum and slowly pull down his briefs, smiling to yourself as his cock springs free and slaps against his stomach. He whines at the release, head falling back against the pillows. His other head leaves a spot of clear, sticky fluid against his abdomen. You reach up and swipe your thumb over it before bringing it to your lips and sucking it off.
You eye his frustrated cock, standing tall with one prominent vein along the side and a leaky tip, and tease, “Awe, Stephen, you’re wet for me. So excited from just one little peck,” He moves as if to hide his face but you continue, “C’mere and kiss me again, Baby,” You command, patting the spot on the bed next to you, “A real kiss this time. Need you to make me feel good too.”
He sits up and eagerly scoots over to you. His left hand reaches for his cock as if by instinct. A bad habit you’ll have to break.
You’d be the only one touching him from now on.
You quickly grab his hand and take it in your own, warning in a low voice, “Do not touch yourself. I’ll touch you when I’m ready.”
He inhales sharply at the sudden movement, but nods quickly, “Sorry…”
“It’s okay,” You soothe, releasing his hand, which he immediately places on your thigh, “You’ll learn.”
Stephen leans forward, crashing his lips into yours. You’d kissed plenty of guys… maybe more than you should have. Especially considering how many of those guys were half-wasted frat boys. But hell, it was a good time. That’s all it ever was to you or them. But the way Stephen kissed you was different. Stephen kissed you like you were air he needed to breathe. He kissed you like he’d never kiss another girl again, and that might have been the truth in his head.
He was a good kisser. A bit clumsy and obviously inexperienced, but excitable. It was sweet in a way. Being someone’s first kiss was exciting, and being kissed by someone who didn’t know anything better than kissing was incredible. You were sad it had to end now, but there was more to explore with the nerd.
You smile and keep urging him into kisses with soft nips at his lower lip. He accepts the invitation, leaning into you, practically slumped against you. You reach up with the hand not fondling him and dig it into his hair, pulling gently. He lets out a soft gasp and you slip his tongue inside his mouth. His glasses knock against your face uncomfortably. You pull back and look up at him, choking back a laugh as you notice the fog clouding the glass. It was so dorky.
“Sorry…” He says shyly, “I um, I can take them off?”
You shake your head, “You don’t have to do that, Baby. Besides, don’t you wanna’ see?” You push the back of his head gently downward, “Don’t you wanna’ watch me touch you?” He audibly gulps as you reach over and run the pad of your ring finger over his head, “It’s so hot. Is it throbbing?” He nods erratically and you hum, stroking your finger down his length, “I bet it’d feel good inside me. You’re big, Stephen.”
He groans, but whether it’s at your compliment to his side or the sudden hold you take on his length. You slowly move your hand upward, using intense pressure, watching his face morph into pure pleasure. He grabs your waist, his fingers digging roughly into your skin. His forehead drops to your shoulder as he trembles. You should have stripped his shirt off so you could watch his abs tremble with the rest of him.
You don’t have much more time to think about it though, because seconds later he’s spending in your hand and onto the aforementioned shirt. You snort and bring your hand up to your lips, looking into Stephen’s eyes as you lick the liquid from the back of your palm. Stephen’s face is bright red due to his early release, his body tense as he waits for your reaction.
“You barely lasted a minute, Baby,” You murmur, “We’ll have to work on that.”
this is how i imagine nerd!stephen and prissy pants got shoved together in the first place. i just know he was infatuated at first sight. and she barely even saw him.
not proof read, pardon any typos!
18+ below the cut!!!
“I don’t offer extra credit, Miss Y/N,” Your professor says plainly, though there is a hint of pity in his tone, “Nor can I bump you to a B just for the hell of it. It’s out of my hands.”
Your cheeks burn hot, tears beginning to fill your eyes, “Professor, please. I have tried like… so hard. Harder than I’ve ever tried in a class before. I didn’t realize I needed a B in this course to move on to major courses. I cannot afford to repeat this class. I just got so busy with my sorority—“ You cut yourself off as a tear slips down your cheek.
“Extra curriculars are no excuse—“
“No! I know,” You nod quickly, “I completely understand that. It just all got away from me,” You swallow hard, lowering your voice as you hear footsteps coming down the hallway toward the professors office, “Please? Is there nothing I can do? No way you can help?”
He stares at you for a long moment before letting out a deep sigh and requesting, “I may have an idea. Let me speak with someone and I will let you know next class if I have your solution. It’s not foolproof, but it should help.”
You nod eagerly, “Yes, sir. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another appointment to attend to.”
You nod once more and grab your purse, slinging it onto your shoulder and standing to leave. You push open the door into the hallway and wipe at your eyes at the same time, just unaware enough to crash straight into someone else.
You stumble into the wall with an ‘oof,’ bumping your head slightly. Fortunately, a hand steadies you enough that you don’t fall flat on your ass. You give an irritated groan and your eyes focus enough to glare at the person you ran into.
You’d never seen him before in your life. He looked like a total fucking dork. He was looking at you blankly, like he didn’t know what to say or do. In his defense, you probably looked a hot mess at the moment. Not to mention, you had been the one to run into him, and he still somehow managed to catch you.
Yet, sad, angry, and irrational, you pull your arm from his grasp and hiss, “Watch where you’re going, nerd.”
You shoulder check him for good measure as you walk by, this time keeping your balance. You hike your purse back up on your shoulder, brushing tears from your eyes and praying the geek hadn’t noticed your smudged mascara.
You immediately find your way into a bathroom, your wedges clopping heavily against the tile floor. You give a groan at your reflection in the mirror, pissed to find that you indeed look like a raccoon. A raccoon with sparkly lipgloss and incredible hair.
You take several breaths and rip some paper towel from the dispenser, running it under warm water and dabbing around your eyes. At least you had time to get back and redo your makeup before chapter.
You had to look perfect. You were perfect as far as anyone knew. Perfect grades, perfect looks, perfect social standing. Social standing was your job, after all. You were head of social relations for your sorority, and the best damn head they’d ever had!
Plenty of the fraternity brothers could agree with the latter part of that statement. Yet despite knowing your way around the male anatomy, you didn’t know it well enough to have a B in this dumbass course!
Ugh!
You take in a deep breath and chuck the paper towel into the garbage can, smoothing out your shirt and readjusting your skirt. You plaster on your signature smile before nodding to yourself and walking out the bathroom door.
You’d figure this whole anatomy situation out, one way or another.
***
“Mr. Strange, come in,” Professor Mayberry greets as Stephen stumbles to the doorway, still a bit off balance from his hallway encounter.
God she was gorgeous. He'd never seen her before and likely wouldn't see her again with how big the campus was. She looked like the type to be in marketing or something like that, meaning he'd definitely never have a class with her. He could have stopped her, asked for her name, maybe even a number... anything.
In his dreams.
He'd never done something so bold in his life.
He hadn’t even heard what she said to him, he was too mesmerized by the fact his hands were on her. She had been angry about the collision, but whatever she’d spit out at him had been lost to the sight of her perfectly glossy lips and the scent of vanilla-sugar perfume. The way her hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back, perfectly curled and unwaveringly in place even after the collision.
Oh, Christ, and those eyes! Perfect, glowing skin. And he’d never be able to forget the image of her storming away in that tiny little denim skirt.
In a few seconds, thousands of dirty images rush through his mind. Ideas of flipping up her skirt, grinding his hard cock against her. Dropping to his knees and bunching the skirt up around her hips. Burying his face in her breasts as she rode him and inhaling more of that sickeningly-sweet scent. Pulling that beautiful, bouncy hair back off her face as she peered up at him, blowing him as she fluttered those lashes.
He’d never seen a nicer ass— scratch that— a nicer body. Ever.
“I, um, good morning, Dr. Mayberry,” Stephen stutters out, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and making what he hoped was a subtle adjustment to his pants, “Pardon my tardiness—“
“You’re only a minute late, Strange. Save me the dramatics,” The old man waves off the apology, “How are you today?”
“Oh, fine. Busy.”
“As always.”
“Well, yes,” Stephen reaches up and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, “But I finished the next three weeks of work for sociology. I don’t see why he won’t just let me take the final.”
Dr. Mayberry gives a wry smile, “Because it would breach many, many academic testing rules, Mr. Strange.”
“Yes, I know. The testing center already gave me the same speech.”
He chuckles, “And how is psychology?”
“Incredible,” Stephen replies, “It was always one of my favorites.”
“Of course,” Mayberry says, ever bemused by Stephen’s enthusiasm, “I assume you scheduled to ask me for the next few weeks of assignments?”
“Yes,” Stephen agrees, “If possible. Genetics is really the last class I have to finish minor assignments for this semester. I know you’ve said before you don’t like giving them out early, but—“
Dr. Mayberry hold up a hand and Stephen promptly closed his mouth. He shifts a bit awkwardly in his chair, clearing his throat. He had a bad habit of rambling. Speaking had never exactly been his strong-suit, but he was working on it.
“I’ll cut to the chase; I’d like to strike a deal with you, Strange,” The professor leans back in his chair, resting his hands atop a beer-belly as he explains, “I have a young lady in need of some help. She’s in my anatomy course and struggling a bit. She’s hoping to go into nursing, but as you know, that requires her to pass anatomy with a B. She currently has a seventy-four.”
“And she does actually put in effort?” Stephen asks.
“She does,” Mayberry says genuinely, “And her records show she’s never made anything less than a low A. She seems to care about this a great deal, and I am inclined to help her because of that.”
Stephen clarifies, “You want me to help her?”
“You’d be an excellent tutor,” He shrugs, “And you seem to have the time available for it now,” Mayberry swallows his pride and offers, “You help her up to a B, and I’ll excuse you from all others assignments proceeding the final, Strange. Just read the book and show up the morning of. Meet with her during our normal class time. I’ve already checked that her schedule would be clear.”
Stephen mulls it over momentarily before checking, “Her final grade won’t affect my own standing? Or reflect poorly on me?”
“Of course not. You can’t do the work for her, after all,” The professor says reasonably, “We can only hope she puts her time and effort into it.”
“How many assignments are left?”
“One research paper, three quizzes, a few classwork-grades, and the final.”
“I can work with that…” Stephen mutters before nodding and agreeing, “You have a deal. I’ll need her name and email address, of course.”
“I was actually hoping to introduce you in person. Her class is at nine on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Come in Thursday at a quarter ‘til eleven and I’ll explain this all to her.”
“Alright.”
“Good man,” Mayberry nods his approval, “And of course, I’ll include this good deed in your next recommendation letter.”
“Thank you, sir,” Stephen says, standing and lugging his book bag off the ground, “I’ll do my best.”
“I’d expect nothing less from Stephen Strange.”
“Have a nice afternoon, Professor.”
“Mhm,” Mayberry hums as Stephen makes his way out the door, this time looking both ways as he steps out into the hallway.
Part of him was hoping that the babe he’d run into before would barrel into him once more, but he knew better. She’d seemed in a hurry. She was probably running late for a date or something like that. A date with some steroid pumping jock twice his size who’d smash his skull in if he knew Stephen had even breathed the same air as her— much less touched her.
But he had touched her.
And it was the most he’d touched a girl in… ever. Because he was a fucking loser. Despite being at an Ivy League where academics were the priority, he often felt as though he was the only one to take them as seriously as a student should. The rest of the campus was lost to fraternity brothers and sorority sisters, hoping to charm one or the other into an invite to one party or hang out or whatever it was that people did these days. It’s not like he’d know. He’d never been invited anywhere.
He blushes at the thought, embarrassed by his own scrutiny.
Who knew, maybe this girl he needed to tutor would take a shine to him? Or tolerate him, at the very least.
new nerd!stephen that’s super fluff and feel good tomorrow 🥳 been writing it before bed to help me unwind from long, stressful days. hope it helps you all as well <3
