#Professor Toothy: The Final Lesson

[nyarlathesleeper]

Jason Steele is a highly underappreciated artist. His animations are of course phenomenal, but he's also just a very skilled writer.

Nowhere near enough people enjoy or appreciate Steele's novelettes. This annoys me deeply.

In classic Jason Steele fashion, they're all very strange and surreal, with decently grounded characters in worlds and situations we'd consider bizarre (a universe without any goo sounds terrifying). His comedy is always on point, and the way he writes his leads is always very compelling.

They're also all very gay. Like, surprisingly so. People are starting to understand this more, especially with the CtU finale and Shadowstone Park, but he just really likes writing gay couples and I love him for it. Jason Steele's literary lesbians are always running around in my head, appreciating the buff women in their lives, as well as the ability to eat a concerning number of horses (that's a lie, Jessica is very distressed by this).

They're all super fuckin cheap, go read them already! They deserve your love, attention, and possibly your ziggurats. Okay, definitely the ziggurats.

[thingumadoodle]

I wish more people were aware of Professor Toothy: The Final Lesson... the way it completely recontextualizes the events of the short and makes everything make sense is kind of hilarious to me. I love you Talia, fuck it up you anxious, freaky lesbian

[kquil]

SIRUS BLACK | 20:18 ⏤ATTENTION

SUM. : after helping sirius for the first time in herbology, he becomes an addict for you attention and care

G. : fluff ; sirius being an attention seeker ; he's so dramatic ; r. is too kind ; sirius loves being taken care of ; r. loves taking care of him too

LENGTH : 1.2k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

The first time it happened, it was in your third year herbology class shared between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.

The lesson was based on the defanging of vampiric vegetation. The plants themselves were somewhat sentient and could sense the advances of other living beings, which made it quite burdensome to collect its fangs for potion ingredients. However, with the right tools and technique, demonstrated by Professor Sprout, it could prove to be quite a prompt and uncomplicated task to labour. 

“Does everyone have their gardening and dental tools?” Professor Sprout asks, encouraging everyone to survey their workstations before confirming that they were ready to try their hand at defanging, “Brilliant! You may begin when you are ready and I will make rounds about the greenhouse if anyone needs assistance.” And so everyone got to work.

You found that the toiling and labour came naturally to you so it wasn’t surprising that you were the first in the whole class to complete the work. With a proud smile and huff of satisfaction, Professor Sprout approached you, singing praises for her fellow Hufflepuff. She awarded you ten points before persuading you with extra should you be willing to help out your other classmates. “I’d be happy to, professor,” you smile as she nods proudly. “15 more points to Hufflepuff,” she gave you a wink before sending you on your way. Naturally, you floated about the greenhouse, helping your fellow Hufflepuffs with their defanging technique as well as some Gryffindors. You were just about to approach another struggling student when you heard a shout of pain to your far left. Instantly, your caring nature took control and you rushed to the person, who you quickly discovered was Sirius Black. The notorious prankster shared a workstation with Peter, his fellow marauder, who fussed about him uselessly, not knowing what to do. “What happened?” you asked with furrowed brows and concerned eyes. “Sirius was getting a little frustrated with the plant and decided to take off his gloves—” that was all you needed before you were at Sirius’s side and inspecting the scratch he had retained from his idiocy. “Never compromise your safety, okay? Thank goodness it’s nothing serious, nevertheless…” you crouched down to open up the bottom cupboard of their workstation for the first aid kit and immediately went about treating the shallow wound on Sirius’s hand. As you focused on treating his injury, you completely missed his fascinated stare and rosy cheeks.  

Despite Sirius finally finding his family in the marauders, this was the first time he had experienced such tender care and loving hands. And with such a pretty face too…Sirius thought to himself, lost in the image of you and wholly forgetting the pain from his injury. Your gentle touch, worried profile and pleasant disposition throughout the interaction left quite the impression on him. “What’s your name?” was his quiet question - unusual for his standardly loud and boisterous expressions. Only after you had taken care of his wound, did you finally introduce yourself with a warm smile. He whispers your name with a growing grin before regarding your appearance thoughtfully. It was, somewhat, intimidating to be under his steel-grey stare but his admiring nod and toothy grin was reassuring enough, “I’m Sirius,” he introduces and grins when you giggle and explain that you already knew.

“Ah!” Sirius cries before shouting for you. You were both in your sixth year now and his theatrical antics around you have only grown more common, progressing from intentionally acquired small wounds from ‘accidents’ in shared classes to staged aches and pains from a simple brushing of the hand in corridors,  “Help me, doll! I’m in pain,” always so dramatic, Sirius flails his arms and attempts to forge tears on his way to you. This occurrence had become so common that nobody bats an eye whenever Sirius lets out a pained cry anymore. Everyone knows that it’s only because Sirius has somehow spotted you in the crowd and wants your attention. It was attention you were more than willing to give, however, so you had no complaints. “Awww~ Sirius~” you coo, playing to his wants every time and never discouraging him from approaching you despite his obvious intentions. To meet him, you stand from your seat in the open courtyard bench and open your arms for him to fall into. His tall figure, however, keeps him standing, his arms wrapping around your smaller stature from above your shoulders. Sirius nuzzles his face into your hair and hums in content when he is able to indulge in your familiar, comforting scent., “are you alright?” He doesn’t say anything and instead pulls back to look at you with an unsatisfied pout, as if he was upset at you for something— “are you alright darling?~” you repeat, eliciting a wide grin before he’s back to cuddling you and burying his face into your hair.  “James hit me!” he whines pathetically and you giggle to yourself when you see the accused give Sirius an incredulous look from behind. Lily giggles at James’s dismay and hugs him from the side, the brunette rolls his eyes and smiles good-naturedly, adjusting his glasses before returning her embrace. 

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it, sweetheart,” you swear you can hear Sirius purr from the nickname you call him by. He, at some point in your fifth year, demanded that he be the only one you call by such loving endearments after going into a strop when he overheard you calling your Ravenclaw friend with similar affection. 

“It still hurts,” was his pouty response. Some people may argue that Sirius was taking full advantage of your established kindness but you always shook off the comments. Kindness was a part of your nature and it felt good to take care of others so it was a win-win situation for both of you. A majority of the time, it wasn’t a serious issue, like now, but for if and when Sirius actually needed medical attention, you had practised some healing spells and carried a small muggle and wizard first aid kit with you everywhere. When Sirius found this out, he had somehow managed to increase the amount of times he would go to you for attention. He would dramatise everything: a brushing of someone's shoulder, an incident with a potion, another accident in herbology or even a playful hit from one of his friends. 

Patting his back softly, you pull your face away from his chest to look up at him, “what do you want me to do to make it feel better?” you prompt with a warm smile.

Following all your usual dialogue, you guess that he may ask for a longer hug, sweets, for you to make him his favourite tea or to lay his head on your lap while you pet his hair and pretend to cast a healing spell on him through your consoling touch. 

There was a pause as Sirius thought over what he wanted, staring off to the side before finally meeting your attentive, warm eyes once more. His lips pull up into a small smile as he leans down close enough for your noses to touch. The action makes the air catch in your throat as his request sends your heart racing in your chest.

“I want a kiss…”

A/N : it's been a while since i've last written something so i'm a bit rusty and this is my attempt at slowly easing back into writing again. sorry for the impromptu absence, things got a little stressful leading up to my graduation ceremony but im back again! wooo! hopefully i won't be leaving any time soon

NAVI.

TAGLIST : @rosaleenablack @samanddeansannoyingsis @fredweasleysjumper @marina468 @rosalyn-s @melinajenkins @astonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @sageskisses444 @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms

[let-your-chaos-explode]

The Secrets of Lady Lesso - Chapter 2

A few weeks had passed since Clarissa Dovey had mustered the courage to ask the Dean of Evil about her cane. And it was a few weeks of pure torture. Her curiousity burned hotly and she needed to know the truth. If she were honest, she had never really thought about why the other woman used it. It was just part of her. Always had been, as far as Clarissa remembered. But being denied the knowledge made her thirst for it now. Especially since the woman in question seemed to take such pleasure in letting the world wonder. 

Lady Lesso had been avoiding her ever since orientation. She would catch flashes of vibrant red hair rounding corners and by the time Dovey had made it to the end of the hall, Lesso was gone. She had not been present at meals. Nor was she spending any time in the library. In her absence, Clarissa realized just how comfortable she had gotten with the other woman’s presence. She was finding that she missed the little moments they seemed to share now that they were gone. 

Well, she couldn’t avoid her forever. The first quarter staff meeting was scheduled for this evening. And it was mandatory. 

All of the other staff members sat bored in their chairs. Most had arrived on time and had been waiting for Dovey to start the meeting for nearly twenty minutes. Except they were still short by one very specific and very stubborn, Evil Dean. 

“Where in the Ever loving world is she?”

“Professor Dovey,” an Ever teacher started hesitantly. “Perhaps we could start without her? I’m sure you could fill her in on any events of the meeting. That is to say, many of us have lesson plans to finalize.”

Clarissa was once again overcome with embarrassment. “Yes! Yes, of course.”

As it happened, Lady Lesso barged into the meeting a grand total of forty-five minutes late. 

“…and I will be taking volunteers for the planning of this year’s Snow Ball.” Dovey continued, narrowed eyes following Lesso in a heated glare until she loudly found her seat. 

“I will help coordinate that for you, Clarissa.” Emma Anemone volunteered. 

“Wonderful!” Dovey clapped. “If nobody has anything else to add…”

Chairs began scraping against the stone of the floor. 

“Lady Lesso, a word, please.” 

The woman paused mid-rise from her seat and sighed, dropping back into the cushioned chair. Dovey waited until the room had cleared before perching primly in the chair directly next to Lesso. The woman appeared unbothered, inspecting her sharp, silver painted nails casually. 

Dovey uncharacteristically let her shoulders slump as she splayed her hands against the table. Nervously, she began scratching at a chip in the wood, refusing to look at the woman next to her. 

“If I… apologize…” Dovey started and cleared her throat. “For asking invasive and personal questions, will you quit acting like a child?”

Clarissa didn’t look, but she could feel Lesso stiffen in her seat. 

“ The Clarissa Dovey, Dean of Good, Fairy Godmother extraordinaire, would actually apologize to little old me? ” Lesso asked with sarcastic surprise, placing a hand against her chest. 

Dovey’s gaze finally cut to Lesso’s in an exasperated side-eye and a pout on her lips. 

A slow, toothy grin grew on the redhead’s face. 

“If it means you’ll talk to me again, then yes.” Clarissa admitted quietly, once again averting her eyes. 

Lesso’s self-satisfied smile instantly fell. She uncrossed her legs and braced her forearms on her knees as she leaned forward, attempting to see Dovey’s face. 

“Look, Dove…” Lesso mumbled awkwardly. “It never…offended me that you asked.” 

She gestured halfheartedly at her leg. 

“Then why have you been avoiding me?!” Clarissa cried, irritation finally bubbling to the surface. 

Lady Lesso let loose a barking laugh and rose from the chair. “I like watching you squirm.”

She tapped her cane jauntily, heading toward the door. 

“Excuse me?” Dovey sputtered incredulously as a pretty blush climbed up her neck. 

“I’m evil, princess. It’s what I do.” 

“Lesso?” 

The Dean of Evil paused with her hand on the knob, inclining her head. 

“What happened to your leg?” Clarissa asked curiously. 

Leonora turned to look at her over her shoulder. 

“Chernabog.” She shrugged.  

Lady Lesso smirked and with a devilish wink, sauntered out the door.

Chapter 3

[butmakeitgayblog]

Teach Me

Ch 2. Slow and Steady

_________________________

The quiet of the ceramics lab was one of her favorite spaces in the world. Filled with the earthy scent of clay and freshly mixed slip, and the muddled chirp of birds nested just outside the lab's sole window. 

She moved around the room with ease, barely watching where she was going as she tilted hips this way and that, pivoting on the balls of her feet in a well practiced dance as she wound her way through work stations. 

Folding the final swatch of frayed burlap and straightening it for no particular reason, Lexa mentally went through her first day checklist one last time on her way back across the room. 

Syllabus. Set.

Work cloth. Set.

Got the sample clay divided, slip mixed, glazes labeled--

"Knock, knock."

She halted at the light call and twisted around toward the open doorway

"Oh," Lexa said in a bizarrely breathy laugh as an unbidden smile unfurled across her face. "Hello."

"Hey."

"We meet again."

"So we do," Clarke smiled right back as she came a few steps forward and took a quick survey of the room. 

"Class doesn't start for another fifteen minutes," Lexa said, vaguely gesturing toward the clock on the wall behind her.

Rocking up on her toes, Clarke bobbed her head in a nod. "Yeah, I know, I'm early," she said as she pulled a face. "But I have an hour between my last class and this one, and there's only so much sitting in my car I can do. I hope this is--"

"Oh! Yeah, no, please, come in, come in," Lexa said with a start and beckoned Clarke further into the room. She moved to pull the stool out from beneath the work station across from her and motioned for Clarke to set her stuff down. "I wasn't saying it was a bother. You're welcome any time. It was just… I'm used to students generally flying through the door at the last second on syllabus day."

"Learned my lesson on that last time, as I'm sure you remember." Clarke rolled her eyes as she walked over, continuing as she set her bag down and flipped it open. "My daughter lorded it over me all night. 'Woooow, mom, that doesn't sound very responsible of you. You really need to work on your time management.' Little twerp."

"She sounds precious."

"Well, she is my child. But besides that, I just hate being late in general. Ruins my 'overachiever' street cred."

Lexa let out a small laugh and leaned her hip against the workstation table ledge. "I'm not entirely sure if overachiever comes with street cred, does it?"

"Oh, yes," Clarke said with utmost seriousness, though her eyes shone with a kind of teasing that made Lexa's stomach swoop. "Very intense stuff, Professor."

"Hm. I'll be sure to keep that in mind while grading studio practices then."

"Just you wait."

Releasing a laugh through her nose, Lexa pushed away from the table and made her way over to grab the clipboard off her workspace. "So, two classes, huh?"

Clarke hummed in question, looking up from where she was rifling through her bag when Lexa turned back from hanging the sign-out sheet. "What now?"

"Two classes," Lexa repeated. "With me."

"Uh. Yep."

"Sure that was a wise choice? You'll probably be sick of me by the end of the semester."

A lovely shade of rose sprung to Clarke's cheeks as Lexa watched her bite her lip and smile before pressing a palm over her eyes. "Egh. Okay. Um," Clarke awkwardly chuckled as she dragged her hand away, "can I tell you something slightly embarrassing?"

Eyebrows shooting up, Lexa rested her hands on her hips and sent Clarke a toothy smile. "Well that's entirely too intriguing to say no to."

"Don't judge me, alright," Clarke said. "But I… may... have been mildly drunk when I applied to come here."

A beat of silence echoed between them before Lexa snorted. "What?"

"It's not as bad as it sounds!" Clarke rushed on. "It was just-- My Madi was with her dad that night, and I was feeling all zen and 'one' with the universe.... And more than a little 'one' with an unfairly good bottle of rosé, and I… It just sounded like a great idea."

"No, I get it. I've had those nights, believe me," Lexa eased as she felt compelled to share in the woman's obvious fluster. 

"See? Okay. Thank you."

"So… You're saying you planned your entire semester while three sheets in?"

"I believe the term I used was mildly drunk," Clarke pointed out with narrowed eyes as she went back to riffling in her bag. "But… yes. Basically. And I went through the classes I thought looked interesting, then looked up the professors to see who had the best ratings and chose from there."

"You're saying you chose my classes because drunk-you read that I come highly recommended?"

"Yes. Well, no. I mean, yes, that, but mostly--"

Clarke's words cut off with a click of her jaw.

So Lexa waited.

And waited. 

Watched Clarke's movements falter as blue eyes darted up and that blush bloom deeper. 

"What?" Lexa finally prompted.

"It's so stupid and I regret bringing this up now."

"Okay but you have to tell me," Lexa egged her on as she walked over and leaned her palms on the worktable between them. "You can't lead with something like that and leave a girl hanging."

Clarke sighed and plopped down on the stool behind her. 

Resigned eyes locked onto her as Clarke rested her chin in her hand.

"L. Woods."

Lexa frowned and bent closer. "... Excuse me?"

"L… Woods," Clarke repeated slowly with a shake of her head. 

It took a moment of silence, but just the one, before the penny finally dropped. 

"Are you serious?" Lexa asked as she shoved up with a scoff. 

"Listen, drunk me thought it was hilarious," Clarke said and held her hands up in surrender. "I remember having a really good time randomly saying 'what, like it's hard?' while I was writing everything down. And then when I met with my advisor, I just gave him the list from that night, and… yeah, here we are."

"Of course," Lexa sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose before pushing her glasses higher. "That movie is the bane of my existence, I hope you know that."

"Duly noted, but it was highly amusing at the time. And it did get me here, so..."

"It remains to be seen if that's even a good or bad thing, Clarke."

"Oh, please," Clarke smirked and flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Give me your worst, I'll win you over."

"Is that right?"

"Absolutely. Not to brag or anything, but," Clarke said, leaned in and dropped into a conspiratorial whisper, "I've been told I'm a pleasure to have in class."

Lexa's stomach flipped with a pleasant twist as she held the mischievous pair of blues staring up at her, unconsciously leaning forward as well and fighting against the stretch of her smile. "Then I guess I look forward to having you--"

They both jumped at the burst of muffled voices, hearing the thudding of footfalls echoing against hallway tile. Lexa shot away from the worktable just as a crowd of students lumbered through the open double doors, hitching a welcoming smile on her face as she struggled to slow the hammering in her chest. 

"Hey! Morning, everybody! Nope. It's afternoon. I-- ya know what, just come in. Take a seat anywhere," she said in a voice she didn't quite recognize as she mentally told herself to get it the fuck to together. 

Cheeks treacherously blazing for no damn reason at all, Lexa made her way up the the front of the lab where her demo station was set up. 

She took her time putting on her apron, carefully looping the strings around her waist and double knotting it for good measure. Smoothed her hands over the covering that protected her favorite oxford button down. 

Chancing a peek around the room as she meticulously folded her sleeves up to her elbows, Lexa watched the students settle themselves into whatever workspace called to them. 

She hoped they were picking well. Felt bad for the gangly kid who had chosen the spot just beneath the air vent. Could practically hear his complaints come firing time when the studio's AC would be cranked full blast.

And then her eyes strayed past him. Flitted back toward her own work area, finding a deep shade of cerulean already staring back. 

Her hands tripped over the knot of her apron even as those eyes immediately looked down. Lexa swallowed at the sudden lurch that rocketed through her chest all the same. 

This was ridiculous.

She was being ridiculous. 

She had a class to run for God's sake.

Clearing her throat loudly, obnoxiously, Lexa shut down whatever the hell all that was with a clap of her hands.

"Everybody settled?" she called out, pointedly looking around and doing a final quick scan. 

Three workstation seats sat empty. Just as there should be.

"Good," Lexa answered herself. "Okay. Welcome to Ceramics I. First off, show of hands, who's excited to set stuff on fire?"

Two hands predictably flew up.

"Hell yeah," she nodded with a bright smile and motioned between them. "Alright, nobody allow those two around the kiln."

//////////

"... and a variety of methods of constructing pieces, not just the throwing wheel. I'm sure at least some of you signed up for this class thinking you would recreate the scene from Ghost, which is understandable, but not the sole method of construction. Yes, I am aware I'm dating myself with that reference, but I would appreciate it if you ignored that and accepted me as I am. Because for now, we're starting with the basics." 

Lexa mindlessly droned through the tail end of her intro speech as she walked through the work tables and handed each student a lump of pre-measured clay. 

"Which brings me to my next point. There's only three tests in this class, everything else is participation and studio practices. Meaning I expect you to show up and work while you're here. I want to see progression of technique. 'A for effort' is the name of the game, folks. You'll probably have to come in during your off hours. The lab does stay unlocked for your convenience, but trust me when I say, you are being watched."

Handing out the final sample, Lexa turned and gave the room a weighted look as she pointed to the very conspicuous security camera hanging in the far corner of the room. 

She still knew at least one person would need to be gently reminded of its presence at some point in the semester. 

"Okay. Now that the threatening portion is done, let's get to the fun stuff." 

Moving back to her makeshift work area, Lexa went through the motions of explaining the properties of the practice clay they were using, how it would differ from the normal clay they'd be using throughout the year. Explained the methods, strengths, and weaknesses of that day's demo, coil pottery, mixed with a few key points of the method's history as well as the particulars to making their creations structurally sound. 

She built her own mini vase up one rung at a time, explaining why slow and steady was the path to victory in ceramics, giving the usual lecture of not trying to bite off more than one could chew with each layer. 

And sighed when she let them loose to try it for themselves, only to immediately watch the majority of them do the exact opposite of what she'd just said.

They'd figure it out eventually. 

//////////////

Clarke frowned as the clay dried and pilled into tiny crumbles beneath her ministrations. 

Wondered why they were even working with this junk to begin with when it barely wanted to hold together or do a single thing she indignantly told it to do in her head. 

She huffed for the third time in five minutes and leaned in closer, using the bendy flat metal thing she didn't know the name of to try and smooth out a particularly stubborn curve yet again.

"You look like you're about to burst a blood vessel."

Stopping at the whisper from the work space beside her, Clarke pulled back and looked to her right. 

A woman slightly older than herself was watching her with naked amusement, chin resting on the ball of her fist and a teasing smile sitting easy on her face. 

"Can I help you?" Clarke asked.

"Looks like you're the one who could use a little help."

"Your observation skills are impressive," Clarke snipped. "What gave me away?"

Brown eyes widened and then narrowed, that smile turning sharper as she watched Clarke silently for another moment.

"I like you," the woman said abruptly and sat up, reaching a hand out. "I'm Raven."

Clarke frowned and quirked a brow. "My hands are filthy."

"Whose aren't? We're fuckin' around with the classy version of dirt."

Looking down at the sight of the woman's equally grey dust and muck smeared hand, she eventually shrugged and returned the handshake with a tight smile. "Clarke."

"Here," Raven said when she released her, "try this."

"... A bottle?"

"The contents of said bottle," Raven sighed and plopped the bottle down on Clarke's side of the table. "Dribble a little water on your fingers, it'll help smooth that curve you're about to cry over. Don't feel bad though, this clay is bullshit and dries out before you can do anything. I swear Lexa uses this stuff first day just to torture the fresh blood."

Already wetting her fingers with the water, Clarke swiped her fingers along the outside bend of clay and smiled when the jagged pieces slicked into something much cleaner looking. 

"Groundbreaking, isn't it?"

"Yeah, thank you," Clarke breathed and repeated the process on another rough spot.

"No problem. What's hilarious is that she'll very much be teaching you exactly how important water can be to the whole process next class."

"Are you serious?"

"Like I said, she uses this crap as torture, I'm convinced of it. She's a sadist."

Clarke quieted a laugh as she glanced between her work and the woman seemingly lost in her own world at the front of the room. Watched hands deftly rolling out and hatching separate coils before winding them together. 

In the time it had taken Clarke to build her up clay barely a few inches off the table, an undulating eight inch pot sat fully formed at the head of the class. 

It was hypnotic seeing the deftness of the professor's hands, how the woman seemed entirely zoned into the process as she worked. Her movements were delicate, but sure, each one deliberate and fluid as she added one coiled rope after another and built the structure up taller with ease. 

"Remember, folks," Lexa called out so suddenly Clarke jumped in her seat, hurriedly looking away before she could be caught gawking like an idiot. "I'm only interested in seeing where you're starting from. Don't worry about impressing anyone, just try and make something that holds together. I want you to get familiar with the feel of the medium."

Clarke went back to her pot, needlessly rewetting her fingers before actually focusing past her fluster, and grabbed a different tool entirely. She picked up her tiny… whatever the hell it was she'd made and used the self-named pokey thing to start etching in a design. 

"So," Clarke said after a few moments, glancing over at the woman beside her again and catching her looking back. "You seem to know the professor?"

Raven snorted out a laugh and kept forming some tiny thing that Clarke couldn't make out. "Yeah, you could say that. I've only taken this class four times."

"Wait, what?" Clarke stopped and looked at her with a frown. "Why would you take an intro class four times?"

"All the fun, none of the worrying about tests," Raven shrugged as she kept working. "My wife's on the faculty here so it costs me basically nothing to take classes, and after this little souvenir," she paused long enough to rap a knuckle against the metal brace that circled her knee, "I don't really worry about working anymore. More fun to be a full time student. Just learn anything I want and make stuff."

Not wanting to pry, Clarke simply gave an appreciative nod. "Nice."

"What about you?" Raven asked as she pulled back and inspected her own creation. "What got you back in the academic saddle at this deliciously ripened age?"

Clarke cracked a smile at her teasing tone. "Definitely not the cheapness of classes," she sighed and went back to her etching. "Divorce."

"Ouch."

"It was a long time coming," she absently waved off the concern. "But between the settlement and some inheritance, here I am. Bright eyed and feelin' old as hell."

"Okay, everybody," Professor Woods' voice cut through Raven's laughter. "I think that's good. Let's call it for today. Just leave your pieces and I'll come around to see where we are."

Clarke paused her movements and looked up, ruefully smiling and shaking her head at the nearly foot tall, perfectly symmetrical coiled creation sitting on the front workstation. 

Show off.

Clarke kept on working through the quiet shuffle around her, hearing clips of muted conversations and small words of encouragement as she determinedly finished up a few final details on her sort-of mini pot. 

A click of a tongue to her right caught her attention. 

"Raven. Really?"

"What?" Clarke's workspace companion shrugged when Clarke glanced over from the corner of her eye. 

"You gotta give me something here. Work with me."

"There's a hole in it! It's a pot! Look, it's an abstract."

"It's a duck."

"Ceci n'est pas une duck!"

Professor Woods rolled her eyes even as she gave a soft pat to Raven's shoulder. "Get out of here, go home." 

"Oui, la Professeure," Raven said as she grabbed her bag and stood with a grunt, giving Clarke a lazy wave on her way out the door. 

"That woman," her professor sighed after Raven was gone as she moved around to stand on Clarke's other side. "Don't let her teach you any bad habits."

"Never," Clarke said as she deliberately slid the contraband water bottle further away from her area.

Professor Woods hummed and looked down at the little creation sitting before them. Clarke felt her cheeks heat under such scrutiny as the woman shuffled in close, lowering down to squat on her heels and inspecting Clarke's piece with sharp, green eyes. 

"We sure about that?"

"Absolutely."

"That's not a coil pot, Clarke."

"Okay, no it's not, but hear me out," Clarke jumped in as the woman lifted her work and started turning it in circles to see all the different sides. "It was a coil pot at first. But then I got bored and I started smoothing down the sides," she explained and mimicked her own movements as those eyes flicked to her during their inspection. "And before I knew it, it was smooth. And then I thought, well let me put a design on it. Obviously. So that's when I took the pokey thing and, and... did all the rest."

Professor Woods was quiet for a long moment as she continued to gingerly turn the piece over and over in her fingers. 

Clarke wrung her hands in her lap and watched until she finally smiled, set it back down, and looked up toward Clarke from her crouched position. 

"Pottery needle."

Clarke let her brow drop into a deep furrow. 

"The pokey thing," her professor said as she pointed to the tool in question. "It's called a pottery needle."

"Ah," Clarke breathed in the small space between them. "Yeah, that sounds more professional."

"I appreciate your initiative, Clarke," Professor Woods said with that lovely click as she pushed back up to her feet. "And I'm certainly seeing that overachiever street cred you were talking about. It's impressive."

"I told you."

"But you will still have to actually make a coil pot for me at some point in the next week."

"Right, of course," Clarke agreed with a guilty nod.

"Do you wanna fire it?"

"What?" Clarke's head flew up from where it had dipped to see full lips still smiling at her, felt her breathing subconsciously deepen at the sweet scent of perfume when her professor leaned closer and rested her elbows on the table as she resumed inspecting the mini pot.

"Would you like to fire this?" Professor Woods asked again as she glanced to her. "I'm not going to be lighting the kiln for a couple weeks yet, but…"

"Oh, God no," Clarke scoffed and fought the ridiculous blush climbing to her cheeks when the woman immediately frowned. "It's nothing worth saving. I was just messing around."

A hand shot out and snatched up the pot before Clarke could smash it. "Hey," Professor Woods chided and held it out of Clarke's destruction zone. "It's your first piece, Clarke. You have to save it."

"I didn't even know what I was doing."

"Which makes it all the more worthy," she insisted. "Usually all I get is a bunch of lopsided vases and tiny floppy bowls that fall apart. This is an honest to God pot. And look, it's so cute."

Clarke watched as her professor held the piece up on the flat of her palm.

"You even put little designs on it. And these swirling pinholes that create negative space? That's wonderful... You should really let me fire this for you."

Clarke held her gaze and chewed her lip in thought, barely held back a smile when the woman playfully held the piece next to her face. She sighed after a long moment and nodded. 

"If you insist--"

"I do," Professor Woods said on the heels of the words that had barely left Clarke's lips as she rose from the table. A shiver ran down Clarke's spine when fingers ghosted across her back, grabbed a pinch of her 'University of Polis' shirt sleeve and playfully tugged as she passed. "Wait here, Ms. Overachiever. Advanced lesson time."

Clarke swiveled on her stool and called after her. "You really don't have to, professor--"

"You can just call me Lexa."

Clarke's mouth clicked shut as she sat up straight at the offhand correction, not quite sure what to do with herself while her professor-- while Lexa, opened the giant metal cabinet that stood next to the doorway and grabbed a few things at random.

"Okay, this is a ware board. There's a bunch of different types, but this one's particle board," Lexa explained as she came back in an excited flurry of movements and set everything down on Clarke's space. "It helps pull moisture out of clay, which is generally what you want when a piece is finished. But since it's gonna be a little bit before we fire this thing, we're gonna want to find a way to keep it from drying out too much too soon so it doesn't crumble. Also, if you decide you wanna change anything beforehand, it's not literally set in stone yet."

Clarke leaned back when Lexa reached across her and snapped up the forgotten water bottle, smiling at her grumbled sigh of 'Thanks, Raven' even as Lexa took a piece of gnarled looking plastic and sprinkled a few droplets on it.

"This is the best way to keep your work, sorry for having to use this word, moist, in between sessions," Lexa picked right back up with a kind of whirlwind enthusiasm that Clarke couldn't tear gaze away from. Slim fingers received their own trickle of water and started caressing the tiny piece in light passes.

Clarke swallowed as she diligently followed their every path.

"You don't want to soak it," Lexa said in a concentrated hush. "Just give it enough moisture to stay alive… And be gentle, so you won't lose all your designs."

"Gentle, got it," Clarke croaked as she watched fingers dip into the pot to wet down the inside walls.

"Think slick and smooth."

"Mhm."

"Take care of the lip, it's fragile."

"Take care of the lips. The lip." 

Clarke licked the dryness from her own lips when Lexa set the piece down in the middle of the ware board and looked over, seeing little flecks of gold in green eyes as Lexa handed over the dampened plastic. "Okay. Now you wrap it up."

"Right," Clarke nodded and took a breath as she draped the plastic over her piece and went to lift--

"No, wait." Hands rested over her own, stopping her before she could pick up the pot. "Leave it on the board. Just wrap it like this." 

Lexa cupped Clarke's palms around the tiny figure beneath the plastic, bunching the excess material in tufts at the base so it sat close and snug. 

"Perfect," Lexa murmured beside her, hands lingering a moment as Clarke turned and let her eyes rove over the side of that unfairly pretty face. 

And then all at once Lexa cleared her throat and yanked back while wiping her hands on her apron. 

"'Kay. All done." 

She smiled and picked up the board and took off across the room before Clarke knew what was even happening. 

"This should be safe for at least a week," Lexa called over her shoulder as she leaned up on her tiptoes and slid the board into the metal cabinet. "But I'll keep an eye on it. You can check it too, see if you decide to make any changes. This top shelf is mine, so I'm gonna hide it here in case anyone gets any funny ideas."

"Funny ideas?" Clarke asked when she finally got her bearings enough to fully turn around. 

Lexa tsked as she finished closing up the cabinet. "Unfortunately, some people are thieves. It's not truly a semester until someone gets one of their projects stolen."

Clarke frowned as she dropped her supplies into the water proof sack she'd packed that morning to wash later. "Well that's bullshit."

"Hence the added security," Lexa nudged a chin up toward the camera as she moved to the sink and rinsed her hands.

They lapsed into silence as Clarke finished packing up and rinsed her own hands, only allowing herself a few glances as Lexa untied her apron and hung it back up. She grappled with what exactly to do with all the unknown words jostling for attention at the back of her thought as she slipped her bag onto her shoulder and couldn't find a single thing else to keep her there.

Which was stupid because she really did need to be going. Had dinner to make and laundry calling her name. 

Had to get out of that room and process the entirety of the last hour.

So Clarke released a sharp sigh and smiled when her professor looked up from where she was scribbling something on a stack of papers. "Okay, well. Thanks for the, uh... advanced lesson."

"It was my pleasure," Lexa grinned, "Ms. Overachiever."

"I told you I would impress you."

"I indeed stand impressed."

"Guess I'll head out then," she said and hitched a thumb over her shoulder. "But I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Actually." Lexa held a finger up, stopping Clarke in her tracks as she grabbed the packet she'd been writing on and walked over. "Here."

Taking the outstretched papers, Clarke looked at her in question. "What's this?"

"I was thinking about what you said yesterday. About being worried of falling behind should anything come up. And a colleague gave me the idea to just give you a breakdown of the course material for the semester." 

Clarke looked down and saw a typed bullet pointed list sectioned out and filed by time period for each month and week. 

"It's not a cheat sheet," Lexa continued as Clarke flipped through the few pages. "You'll have to actually study all of that to pass the tests. And it's not an excuse to skip class either, because I cover things not in the textbook. So don't you go getting any funny ideas."

Clarke smiled up at her with a roll of her eyes. "I would never purposely skip your class. It may have only been the one, but I really liked it."

"Oh. Good. That's good to hear," Lexa breathed. Then nodded. Crossed her hands behind her back and took on an air that read as all business. "Still. I'm giving you fair warning, this isn't your free pass. I just thought it might help you to know what sections you have to study for and when, that way you can easily work it around your schedule without having to guess what comes next."

"Thank you," Clarke quietly murmured as she flipped it closed. "That's really thoughtful."

"Of course… And I, um… I put my personal cell number on the back," Lexa added as Clarke carefully slipped the packet into her bag.

Clarke's head whipped up. "Your number?"

"For emergencies," Lexa all but blurted even as she pivoted and walked back to her work space, refusing to look at Clarke as she busied herself with shuffling packing up odds and ends on her desk. "I was thinking, what if, perchance, something came up on a test day and I hadn't looked at my email. I tend to check my phone more frequently, so that would be more practical in a pinch if you needed to reach me to reschedule."

Quiet settled over the room save for the rustle of paper as Clarke stared on and Lexa continued to fuss over nothing. 

"You're giving me your number?"

"For emergencies," the back of Lexa's head nodded. 

Clarke couldn't help but grin at the rather endearing display and gripped her bag strap tighter. "Do you… normally give that out to students?"

"... No."

Another long moment of silence passed.

"Not gonna follow that up with anything?" 

"Nope."

Letting out a laugh, Clarke ran a hand through her hair. "Alright. Well then… Thank you, Lexa," she said with a softness she hoped put the woman at ease. "I really appreciate this. This is… more than I deserve."

"Don't worry about it," Lexa blindly waved behind her. "You're a good student, you deserve to succeed. I'm just glad I can help."

Clarke chewed her lip and nodded to herself, sending an unseen smile at the woman who still refused to look at her as she backed toward the door. "So I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yep."

"Ten-thirty, right?"

"Yep."

"You said you wrote it on the back?"

"Yep."

Clarke shook her head and knocked a knuckle against the doorframe as she stepped out. "Good to know. You have a good night, professor."

She waited and watched Lexa's hands falter, only leaving when she heard a faint, 'Goodnight, Clarke,' in return. 

/////////////////////

[bongwaterbummy]

🍐— how bout sirius suddenly transforming into a dog and shocks his girlfriend after forgetting to mention he's an animagus? and she's like "what the fuck happened to my boyfriend?" or sumthin like that IDK AHAHAHHA I KNOW YOU'LL DO GREAT MWAH

ACK TYSM I LOVE YOUR IDEAS <33

tags: slight swearing, I think that's it so enjoy :D

You were waiting, sweater hugged tightly to your shivering core in a feeble attempt to keep you warm. He better show up, you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes.

your boyfriend, Sirius Black, was known throughout the school. Him and his friends, (the marauders, they called themselves) were notorious for their pranks, their impossibly good grades despite how little they truly paid attention, and of course, their attendance. Or, the lack thereof.

As you got lost in your train of thought, a figure lurked nearby. You were in the forbidden forest, after hours at that, waiting for your boyfriend to show up for an impromptu date he'd planned. You waved and called out to the figure, and looked down to grab your bag at your feet, before running towards it.

Your eyes deceived you for every step closer you took. The once human had shrunken down, a movement you initially thought was Sirius sitting down to wait for you, but as you got closer a large black dog was leaping toward you, tongue lolling out in a toothy grin, it's pearly eyes sparkling against its black matte fur.

Shit.

You almost screamed, but remembered the last lesson taught in Care Of Magical Creatures, when professor Ferox brought a (insert magical animal, I can't think of one 😭) into the class.

"Don't ever run, in fact, keep eye contact and continue forward. Loud noises are a no-go, as you'll either frighten or threaten the animal." His voice rang clear in your head as the dog took its final bounds towards you, stopping seeing the look on your face before making an odd noise, like it was breathing in and out at the same time.

"Good boy" you murmured, continuing towards the dog slowly. It seemed to like that, striding towards you, making you freeze as it's head was nuzzling your thigh.

"Awh, you aren't so bad" you said softly, reaching down and scratching behind its ears, earning a playful yap from the black dog, before it circled you and took a few steps towards the castle, turning back as though asking you to follow.

And you did.

You felt somehow compelled, this dog was far too nice to be wild, but just quite scraggly enough to look dangerous. You followed it to the castle yards before somehow finding yourself on the quidditch pitch, sat in the stands watching the dog run around, almost in a trance watching the breeze run through its fur and grabbing a bite of chocolate from your bag, stolen from Remus' stash. You'd expected someone else to share with you, you knew because two bars sat in the bottom of the bag.

Oh merlin, Sirius!

You jumped up, almost ashamed, and ran through the stands of the pitch, stopping at the gate to look back at the dog, who had spotted you and was turning it's head to the side, puzzled.

"Are ya coming, boy?" You asked, before remembering dogs could talk, and mentally facepalmed as you opened the gate.

that simple movement was enough for the dog to run to you, catching up on a quick second despite how tired it looked from lapping the pitch only moments before. It blocked the gate, standing in your way, tail hitting your knees when you tried to push him.

"You.. You weirdo, my boyfriends waiti -" you complained, trying your best to move the impossibly heavy dog out of your way, getting interrupted.

and you paused, shocked.

your eyes were wide as your neck bent up, your breath caught in your throat.

Sirius looked down at you, panting and chuckling, his hair a little dirty and his eyes glistening with happiness.

"I-"

"Your boyfriend's right here, you weirdo" he rolled his eyes, and you laughed before hitting him with your bag.

"Why didn't you tell me??!"

"Could've sworn I did"

And you both laughed so hard your ribs hurt, spending the rest of the night in the quidditch stands, joking and sharing chocolate.

[teawithaphd]

A Day in the Life of Eorzea University

FFXIV

(named) WOL x Crystal Exarch

f/m

Chapter 1: In Other Words...

“The Warrior of Light; Star student of Eorzea University. Although not often known for her skill in balancing a college life and a part-time job serving coffee at the Scions’ Café, she serves as a beacon, so others may walk the path of light to graduation. Will she manage to save the fabric of their school from fraying, or will her school-life balance be brought to the brink? Who is waiting for her there, on the far edge of fate..?" Inspired by the Final Fantasy XIV High School manga!

“Eorzea University, huh..”

Panne stares up at the larger than life building before her, it’s beautifully ornate windows and roof selling the idea of a world-renowned, and incredibly expensive school that few have the means to get into, let alone one who just gets by on a part-time coffee gig.. She looks to the students passing by, decked to the nines in prim and proper outfits fitting of aspiring professionals, and still can’t fathom how a volleyball scholarship, of all things, was the thing that got her in. Shaking her head, she tries not to pay much mind to the thought as she looks to the large, grandiose doors revealing a much grander inside.

Her heels click as she makes her way from eerily perfect grass lawns to marble befitting a palace. She looks down at the schedule in her hands before continuing down the halls to find the Psychology room.

…which only takes half an hour of going through mazes of hallways, only to find that she’s gone in a circle repeated several times before she finally finds the room in a seemingly obvious spot near the entrance.

She opens the slightly simpler looking door and enters the classroom.

As expected, it’s filled with more pompous pricks, she thinks to herself as she finds a desk at the back of the room and quietly slumps into her seat.

“Panne?”

She looks to the seat beside her, noticing the small elezen with shock white hair tied into an intricate braid with a red ribbon at the end of it.

“Alisaie, right? I didn’t know you went here, too.”

“Well, of course. My father would have my head if I didn’t go out and get a ‘proper’ education,” She sighs before resting her chin on her hand. “Plus my idiot of a brother wanted to pursue ‘Business and Politics in this star’s most prestigious university to get the absolute best education’, and dragged me along with him.” She turns her body towards the Miqo’te beside her, ignoring the professor beginning their lesson. “How about you? I never would have suspected you as the studious type, what bade you come here of all places?”

Panne mirrors the elezen’s position before answering, “I got a scholarship.”

“What for?”

“Volleyball.”

“Ah, so you’re a fellow Warrior, then…very interesting” A thought causes Alisaie to giggle to herself. “It seems we’re of the same mind, as I’m on the team as well. Let me guess, your major is undecided…?”

The Keeper shoots her a toothy grin, “Yup, my twin Warrior.”

“Uh, please don’t call me that…I already have a twin, and one twin is more than enough trouble as it is!”

They both laugh, causing a few students to turn around and shush them. Panne lowers her voice, “I never thought I’d find anyone from the Café studying here. Small world..”

“Just about all of us do, ‘lest I be mistaken. I’m doubtless you’ll soon run into them, one way or another.”

She nods before turning her attention to the lecture, which she tuned in and out of for the rest of the class. After the professor dismisses them, the Keeper is bided farewell by her somewhat acquainted elezen friend with a ‘see you at practice’ before going off to her next class. Panne does the same and wanders for several bells until she finds the room for the next class on her schedule, which she wants to crawl into a hole whenever she thinks about—classic literature study.

———

Just as Alisaie mentioned earlier, she happens to spot another one of her colleagues near the front of the class, his tall, lanky stature and odd manner of speech hard to miss. He spots her nearby door and gently pats the desk next to him.

“‘Ah, ‘tis a pleasant surprise indeed to find thee in such an institution. However ‘tis not but good tidings to see thee strive for a greater education, nonetheless. Come, I assure thee thou shalt not want for good company here.” She takes the seat beside him.

“And it doesn’t surprise me to see you here. Though, I didn’t expect to run into someone else from the café so soon..”

“I gather thou hast met with another of our fellow Scions today?”

“Yeah, Alisaie with just in my psych class.”

“Tis good to find thyself some sense of familiarity in unknown territory. Pray, didst thou decide on thine major of study?”

she ponders for a beat before answering, “No, I haven’t the slightest.”

“Ah, Alisaie too, hath found herself in a predicament similar to thine. Prithee, do not fret, as thou shalt soon find the answer to what thou willest to pursuit in thine career in good time. Of that, I am certain.”

“Oh, well that’s… nice of you to say that.” The elezen gives her a kind smile.

“If thou shouldst ever want for assistance, pray, do not hesitate to ask.”

“I appreciate it. Though, I will be needing some assistance in this class. I’ve never been good with books and the like…”

“Then, I shalt try my utmost to be of aid to thee.”

They continue their chat, where Panne finds out that Urianger is pursuing a degree in Astronomy and how some of the others from the café are also pursuing other prestigious-sounding studies such as Business and Political Science, Biochemistry, and Finance, before the professor begins his lecture. She pays surprisingly good attention to the lesson this time, with the help of the friend beside her with expansive knowledge on the subject to explain things to her whenever she feels lost. 

Her stomach grumbles in tandem with her eyes landing on the clock on the wall, minutes from striking twelve. Once it does with a silent click and the professor dismisses them, she breathes a sigh of relief and stands, giving a farewell to Urianger before heading to the convenience store across the street from the school.

——-

Rather then going to balk at the ridiculous prices at the university’s esteemed cafeteria, she grabs a simple sandwich and prepackaged black coffee from the refrigerator aisle of the convenience store. She brings her meal to the counter and quickly pays for the items before heading back to campus. The large courtyard is scattered with different cliques of students eating and communing with each other. Not seeing any more familiar faces in sight, Panne decides to eat alone and simply enjoy some silence and the nice weather. She finds a large oak tree with the perfect amount of shade and space uninhabited, surrounded by neatly trimmed bushes. Satisfied with her pick, she sits with her back leaning on the tree’s trunk and begins unpacking the contents from the plastic bag in her hand. She grabs the sandwich from inside and quietly munches on it, which, although is somewhat bland, is still decent enough to satisfy her appetite.

In midst of her eating, she barely registers the rustling coming from one of the bushes behind her. Her ears perk to the sound, leading her to turn her body towards it, only to find the bushes perfectly still. 

I must be imagining things

She turns her attention back to her lunch and continues eating, shrugging off the feeling of someone watching her. Just as she takes the last bite of her sandwich, she hears the rustling again. 

“Throw wide the gates”

Her eyes furrow in irritation as she turns once again to the source of the sound, this time noticing the top of a black hood with gold pieces adorning it peaking out of one of the bushes. 

The hells?

She stands up and begins walking over to it. “Hey, what are you—“

The mysterious figure sprints out of sight before she can finish her question. She pauses, staring down at the just-abandoned bush in utter confusion before slowly walking back to her spot to grab her things and leave.

“Well, that wasn’t weird…” she mutters under her breath as she makes her way back inside the school.

The rest of the day goes rather uneventfully; attending the next few classes on her schedule and luckily not falling asleep during any of them with the help of convenience store coffee. She finishes her last class of the day and looks down at her tomestone, with a set reminder notifying her of her first day of volleyball practice taking place in about half an hour and where it will be. 

——-

After navigating and getting lost in the school’s many winding hallways again, she finally finds the women’s locker room and makes her way there to change. She opens her locker and finds her designated uniform inside; consisting of a pair of tight, black shorts with an easy-to-fit hole for her tail, and a slim-fitted white jersey reading ‘Warrior’ in the back and ‘01’ in black letters in the front. After changing, she assesses her appearance in the mirror. The uniform is surprisingly flattering to her figure, the black shorts high up enough to give a good view of her lean, pale legs. She quickly adjusts the her hairband before giving herself a nod of approval and heading to the location of the volleyball court nearby.

The outdoor court looks more like somewhere where tournaments should take place rather than mere practice, with its beautiful view of more of the school’s trimmed and beautiful landscaping. The sight of it makes her truly feel in bigger leagues now, a different feeling from seeing the flimsy court paling in comparison to this one from her high school. The thought of such leagues makes her hands quiver ever so slightly.

Snapping herself out of her trance, she eyes the small elezen from this morning from the corner of her eye and waves. Alisaie smiles in response, beckoning her over to the group of other players.

“You got here just in time! Practice is just about to start.”

They go into a routine of simple, full body stretches before the team does a few practice serves and passes of the ball to each other. The Keeper vaguely notices several onlookers have gathered on the bleachers as she’s practicing bumps with Alisaie.

“It’s just like those who come to the café during your working hours just for the chance to bask in your presence when you serve them.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing…Speaking of, how long has it been now since you started with us? Feels like it’s been eons by now”

“Hm? Oh, I’d say it’s been about…a month or so? I started when I found out last minute that my scholarship isn’t entirely a free ride…”

“Really? Gods those bloody cheapskates…” As she trails off, an onlooker attempting to conceal themselves with an oversized hoodie pulled over their head catches Alisaie’s eye… A very peculiar black hoodie adorned with gold ornaments she can recognize from malms away, that can only belong to one person…and what, pray, could he be doing here except for one purpose? Not to watch her practice, as such things plainly are of no interest to him, if her many attempts to drag him here were to show for it, however…

With a knowing smirk, Alisaie turns back to the Miqo’te in front of her, and raises her voice an ilm louder.

“Say, are you seeing anyone right now? Romantically, that is.”

“What? What kind of question is that?!”

“So that’s a..?”

Panne sighs before answering, “no…”

“Well mayhap I can provide a little support then. You see, there’s a certain Miqo’te I know that may be of particular interest to you. ‘Tis not like he’s made any attempts in concealing his interest in you, anyroad.” Alisaie’s smirk grows even wider when she catches eyes with the hooded Miqo’te at the bleachers and watches him squirm in his seat.

“But I’ve hardly the time to seek those sorts of things right now.”

“Oh, don’t be like that! I’ll introduce you sometime, at least humor me?” She makes sure to wiggle her eyebrows at the Keeper at that last part, causing the latter to scoff.

“Why are you interested in my love life all of a sudden anyway?”

“Just curious is all…” a whistle blow catches both of their attentions. “Oh, I believe we should be practicing spikes now.”

The players each get their turns to practice the move with varying levels of success. Alisaie makes an impressionable leap in her spike, but slams the ball out of bounds. After nodding at the coach’s critiques, she beckons Panne to the court. 

The chattering from the players at the sidelines and students on the bleachers fall silent when the Miqo’te calmly walks to the center of the court. The coach mutters a few words of advice before asking if she’s ready, to which she responds with squatting onto the balls of her feet, focused solely on the ball the coach is holding. When the coach blows on the whistle and tosses the ball over the net, the Miqo’te briskly runs to where it’s about to land and leaps to an impressive height for her size, spiking the ball at lightening speed. The small, gathering crowd in the bleachers roar with cheers. It’s not a full-house, but their enthusiasm makes for a lively atmosphere. She turns to them with a grin and hands on her hips, basking in the excitement of the crowd at her winning move. She listens in on some of the whispers among them.

“Did you see that? That thing moved so fast I couldn’t see it until it hit the ground!”

“It was like a beam of light…”

“They better make that girl their Warrior of Light and keep her as their star player, what with talent like that.”

Pulled out of the sensation, she swears she feels a pair of eyes burning through her, but another sound of the whistle blow pulls her away from it. 

The coach grabs the ball from the ground and makes to her spot again.

“Excellent, Panne. Now, perform another spike just like that.”

With the blow of her whistle, the roegadyn woman tosses the ball again. When it crosses the net, Panne runs until she’s right under it, like before, and readies herself to jump again—only to feel an odd pair of eyes on her yet again. She turns to the bleachers and takes a good look at the suspect and notices an oddly familiar black hoodie decorated with ornaments of gold pulled over his head. 

It’s that weird guy from outside…  

She scans over his features, and notices a rather…handsome nose and mouth left unobstructed. She swears she can see him mouthing something.

“Let expanse contract, eons become instant…”

Before she analyze his features more, a volleyball suddenly bounces off the side of her head. Luckily, she catches herself enough as to not hit the ground and make a complete arse of herself on her first day of practice, but has to swallow her pride and mumble apologies to the coach when she scolds her for getting distracted, abashedly rubbing the back of her neck while doing so. 

When she gets back to the sidelines and lets the last person get in their last bit of practice for the day, Panne feels a tap on her shoulder and turns, noticing Alisaie looking at her with a face of concern.

“You okay?”

“Yeah… I think there was a stalker or something on the bleachers…”

“What? No way, I’m sure it’s just Thancred.”

She waves to the silver-haired Hyur sitting comfortably on the bleachers. He responds with a wave back and a wink to the two of them. 

“Not him, the other…” She surveys the bleachers again, sighing when she doesn’t find the mysterious hooded man she saw before, “…oh, never mind.”

———

Coach Merylwyb dismisses the team for the day with a ‘good work’ and encourages them to continue preparing for their game later that month. The players make their way to the locker room to clean themselves up and change. 

Chatters echo in the room as Panne shoves her sneakers into her locker and lazily slams it closed. She regards the white-haired elezen sitting on the bench behind her, working the knots in her hair with a brush.

“‘Tis no wonder you got a scholarship, you’re very good. Especially when you don’t freeze up mid-serve, of course.” She places the brush beside her before moving to re-braid her hair, “What was that all about, anyways?”

Panne swipes the brush from the bench and uses it to untangle some of the knots in her own hair. “Dunno…there was this…guy that kept staring at me. He was wearing a hood, but I’m pretty sure our eyes met. And then when I tried looking for him again, he just disappeared, I guess.”

“A hood? Sounds more like a ghost to me. Mayhap you have more in common with Alphinaud than I thought, if a ghost was enough to throw you off balance” she laughs at the Miqo’te’s pout, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! You’re probably just tired.” She swipes the brush back and uses it to touch up the end of her braid, “go home and get some rest, would you? Lest you suddenly grow an unmistakably boorish taste for politics too.”

“Yeah, sure. Who the hells has any taste for politics, anyways?” The comment makes Alisaie go into a giggle fest, and sends a sudden shiver down her twin’s spine at the other side of the campus. At his desk with neatly piled papers surrounding him at the library, Alphinaud looks around, swearing to the Twelve that someone was talking rubbish about him behind his back.. probably Alisaie, he wagers.

Panne gives a last wave to the twin with her before beginning the trek to her dorm a few malms away. 

———-

The exuberant, full of life campus has calmed to a peaceful quiet, save for the sounds of birds chirping and scant voices littered around the school’s courtyard. She breaths a sigh of contentment after the nice change of pace from the excitement of the events of the day, and slows down her pace to admire the oranges and yellows painted across the sky. 

Once a smaller, older-looking, albeit still fancy, building catches her eye, she picks up her pace to a jog to the front doors. She takes out the keycard from her pocket and scans the card reader in front. With a beep, the glass doors open, allowing her inside. Her feet take her to the stairwell beside her and up a couple floors, itching to be rid of her heels once she reaches her dorm room. She takes a left, then follows the hall to a door at the end of it. Finally, she thinks as she jams her key into the lock and twists it open with ease. She uses her body to shove the door open and unceremoniously closes it. Locking it again, she turns around and lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Thank the Twelve I’m home…”

She kicks of her heels and enjoys the peaceful quiet and comfort of her home, until that feeling is interrupted by the sound of slurping coming from the couch at the corner of her room. 

“Godsdammit Ardbert, did you break in again?” The slurping stops for a moment, and the source responds with a gruff ‘mhm’ before going back to his meal. Panne slaps a hand to her forehead and groans before marching to the couch. Greeting her there is the same Hyur who’s been slipping in and out of her dorm at random hours for months, sitting lazily with his legs propped up on her coffee table.

“How the hells did you get in here this time, anyways?” She points an accusatory finger at him, “and stop eating my ramen!”

He pauses his meal and looks up at her with a neutral expression, as if breaking and entering into a girl’s dorm is perfectly normal.

“Oh, I got in through the window. You’re running out of these, by the way.. ‘Twould be wise to keep them handy in the days to come” with that, he goes back to slurping on his noodles.

“I’ll be sure to lock the windows next time…”

She slumps next to him on the couch and leans in slightly closer, squinting as she reads the cup’s label.

“Ah shite, that was my last beef ramen! I was gonna eat that tonight…”

“You snooze you lose, my friend.”

She leans back to her corner and slumps into a melted puddle, groaning along the way. After a moment of comical yet comforting silence, she stands up and walks over to the small kitchen. She grabs a cup of chicken-flavored instant ramen and prepares it before settling back down on the couch beside Ardbert. After a few minutes of quiet slurping of her meal, Ardbert speaks up with a slight mocking tone.

“So? How was your first day?”

“What are you, my mother?” She sits up to place the finished cup along the pile of many other finished lazy college kid instant-ramen dinners scattered across the coffee table. With a satisfied grin, she slumps back down.

“…it was good.”

“Well, that’s good to hear. Anything interesting happen? Make any friends at least?”

“Not really. I went to class, met some people, ate lunch, got a stalker, and went to practice with the volleyball team with that same stalker watching me again. You know, the usual fare.” 

“Wait just a minute. Did you just say you have a stalker? Why would anyone be following you around? Don’t they have anything better to do?”

“Well you’re sure one to talk, constantly coming into my room at the random…”

Ardbert turns to face her with eyes widened. “…are you still angry about the time I came in while you were changing last week? I swore ‘twas with no ill intent!”

“I would be if that expression you made when I threw a pillow at you square in the face wasn’t so damn funny.”

The pout, so unfitting for a man too intimidating and burly to be a college student, makes the Miqo’te giggle.

“Seriously, though. Have you any guess as to who this mystery stalker may be?”

She brings a hand to her chin as she tries to remember if she was able to discern any features obscured by the hood said person wore.

“Hm…well he’s definitely male……” she shrugs, “…that’s all I got.”

“Well that certainly narrows down our search...” The comment earns him a kick in the leg, which he huffs to before continuing, “well, he has to be someone who knows a lot about you if he was able to find you at your practice. Could it be someone from one of your classes… or your cafe perhaps? Someone from there would know your schedule well enough.”

“It couldn’t be…Alisaie was practicing with me, Alphinaud’s too up his own arse in politics studies to be going anywhere that’s not the library or his room, Thancred was sitting at the bleachers during my practice as well as the stalker, plus his face was unobscured…and Urianger and Y’shtola don’t exactly strike me as the type to go out of their way to follow people around all day. They would more likely do the opposite…and to my knowledge, I don’t owe Tataru any money, so she’s definitely not following me.”

“Alright, well if it isn’t any of them…gods, look at the time.” He quickly stands up from the couch. “I should be heading out. Goodnight!”

“Wait, we need to figure out who the stalker is!”

“We can solve that mystery the next time I come.”

“And that is…?”

“...Take care, my friend.” He waves before proceeding to hop out of the window he came from, Panne protesting after him. She runs up to the open window and looks down to find the Hyur no where in sight.

“Would it kill you to use the damn door like a normal person?!”

After an exasperated sigh, she pulls the window panel shut and makes sure to lock it to prevent any more surprise visits from there. She draws the curtains and quickly changes into her pajamas, made of a simple camisole and sleep shorts, before plopping onto her bed. Thinking of the events of the day, and the possible issue of her newfound stalker she’ll be sure to let the others know about at the cafe tomorrow, she drifts off to a dreamless sleep.

Next——>

[yourfavoriteagent]

Teacher Crush Pt 2

Professor!Spencer x Assistant!Reader

You got the internship of your dreams with the dreamiest professor. You won't let your teacher crush get in the way of this opportunity.

CW: Kidnapping mentioned

Your first class with Dr. Reid was about to start, the two of you had spent the morning in mostly silence, each too afraid to talk to the other. The students begin the pile in as you sit at the corner of the desk with your notepad ready to take notes.

“Hello class,” Dr. Reid says when everyone is in their seats, “My name is Dr. Spencer Reid and I will be teaching this course this semester. And this is my teaching assistant y/n l/n.” He smiled and gestured towards you, you nodded your head and waved at the class.

He took attendance as you marked down each name that was on the sheet, almost everyone had shown up today, not bad. Most 9am classes are half empty, but you supposed it was only the first day. Dr. Reid was a sight to see upon his podium, he didn’t seem uncomfortable at all, he spoke with such excitement and volition that you couldn’t help but keep your eyes on him. You took down your notes as he went, mostly keeping the key parts handy, he said he liked to have noted so he would know exactly what he covered for tests.

Some of the students looked less enthralled by his tangents, you could see one young man half-asleep in the back and a young lady on her phone in the front row. Dr. Reid seemed to pay them no mind, he continued on with his lesson, asking the occasional question or writing something on the board in front of him. You admired his clear passion for the subject, he was discussing kidnapping cases and their possible outcomes depending on what kind of person the unsub was. You found it fascinating and hoped some other students were getting as much out of it as you were.

The class ended an hour and a half later, Dr. Reid’s final statements getting lost in the crowd of students piling out the door.

“That was amazing!” You said, once all the students had left. You went on to ask him a few questions about kidnapping cases he had experienced as the two of you packed your thing. He seemed more than happy to tell you about some of his adventures in crime-fighting as you called it.

“I couldn’t imagine what it’s like to be in that situation, I would feel so helpless.” You sighed and grabbed your bag.

There was a recognition in his eyes and his face fell slightly, “You have no idea.” He let out a breath and started to walk out of the room, what was he not telling you, did he have more experience than he was letting on? You didn’t want to pry but you were beyond curious, you let it go for now.

The next class wasn’t until 3pm and since you had nothing to do yet you had an idea.

“Dr. Reid, would you like to get lunch today, I would love to get to know you better, if you don’t mind of course.” You say as politely as you can, you expected him to reject the offer, you had assumed he was busy but it didn’t hurt to ask.

“That sounds lovely, where were you thinking?” He didn’t look up from his papers at his desk when answering you so he couldn’t see the excitement and shock on your face.

“That’s up to you, I’m good with whatever.” You smiled and set your bag down on the chair next to you.

“Alright then, how does Cafe Season sound?” He asked, this time he looked at you. You could live in that moment, the moment your eyes met and you were helpless to his gaze.

“That sounds great, I’ve never been!” You snap out of it to respond to him.

“Oh perfect, it’s one of my favorite restaurants I’m sure you’ll love it.” He gives you a toothy grin and picks up his coat from the back of the chair. “Now would you like to drive or me?”

“Oh, I walked here.” You said you felt your cheeks Redding a little, you weren’t sure why you were embarrassed but you were.

“Alright then, I’ll drive.” He smiled pulling his keys out of his pocket and started towards the door, you grabbed your bag and trailed behind him. Wow, you were actually going out with Spencer Reid, well not going out like going out but you know what you meant. You were just excited to be in his presence.

The two of you walked to the parking lot behind the building and got into Dr. Reid’s Camero.

“I didn’t take you for a mule car kind of guy,” you chuckled as he opened the door for you.

“I’m not, I have a friend, Morgan, he pressured me into getting it when we went looking, I was thinking an SUV would be safer but he thought this was cooler.” He shut the door and walked to the other side. The car smelled like him, you had only gotten his scent mildly in his office but this car was filled with him, you could smell his earthy cologne and what you assumed to be his soap, it was a wonderful mixture of cedar and sandalwood you decided. He got in the car and pushed to start.

“We’ll go to the one on K street, I know the owners there.” He smiled and pulled out of the lot.

“So, how long have worked in the FBI?” You asked him, you wanted to get to know him better but you weren’t sure where to start.

“Let’s see, I’m 41 now and I joined when I was 26 so 15 years I suppose.” He looked almost nostalgic like he was remembering how it all started. “How old are you again?”

“I’m 22.” You responded, he huffed a laugh and continued driving.

“And what are you studying to be? I know are in the English department but what's the end goal here?”

“I would love to be an author, but I guess that's what everyone says, huh?” You laughed, “I think I want to teach, maybe college level if I can get that far.”

You’re good at what you do, I’m sure you’ll make it,” He said and began to parallel park his hard, he listed his arm so it was over the back of your headrest as he looked behind him. You felt your heart flutter in response, he was so close to you, he could touch your hair right now if he wanted to. But of course, he wouldn’t want to do that, why would he want to do that? You pushed the thoughts out of your head as he put the car in park and killed the engine.

“Let me get your door,” he says and makes his way around the car to your side, opening the door to the street.

“Thank you,” You said and nodded your appreciation. The two of you walked around the corner to the restaurant where Dr. Reid was greeted with open arms by the staff, there was something about him that made everyone fall in love with him, you were no exception…

[ickle-ronniekins]

breaking the rules

request from anon: Your writing is truly amazing!! I just read your fake dating with Georgie and I loved it!! I was wondering you would be up to writing a fake dating piece with Freddie?!☺️

word count: 6.9k sorry i keep getting carried away

A/N: ugh. my heart. i cannot deal. thank you all for being so kind, day after day, with each and every piece i write. and thank you, also, for being so patient. i know it’s taking me a while to sift through these requests. it means the world to me! love you all tons

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover | message me if you’d like to be added lovelies!

“Hey, Y/N! Would you mind, for the sake of the entire team, to not be so bloody brilliant during every single match? You’re making us look bad.”

You smile, clutching the quaffle to your chest as you zoom rapidly through the air, leaving dust in your wake as you fly past the Slytherin team members, leaving them baffled and confused before they can fully register just exactly what’s going on. You hoist the quaffle through the hoop and hear a loud roar from the Gryffindor section; you must be up by a hundred points by now. You see Malfoy near the goal posts on the opposite side, looking positively murderous.

You make your way around the interior of the pitch, only to reply to Fred Weasley as you pass by, “I can try, but—don’t you want to win?”

A hearty laugh escapes his lips, and he’s pummeling bludgers left and right with his twin by his side. He wonders now, watching you, if Gryffindor would be as good as they are without you on the team. You’re probably one of the most talented Chasers Gryffindor has seen in years, he reckons. He knew it the first time he saw you mount a broom in a flying lesson your first year at Hogwarts. Since then, inseparable you two had been.

There’s a light, airy feel to the match, which is, to Fred’s surprise, nothing at all what he had expected this morning, especially with Slytherin being the opponent. But you seem to be more in rhythm with the wavelengths of this match than ever before, to the point where Harry is actually taking his time to try and find the snitch—he’s making Malfoy sweat it out a bit.

But when a nasty bludger smacks the end of your broom and you’re knocked to the ground, landing painfully on your arm, Madam Hooch begins shouting out punishments at the Slytherin beaters, McGonagall is rushing to your side with Madam Pomfrey, and Fred, George, and Harry are nearly kicking Malfoy into the ground when his sickeningly irritating mock laughter floats in the air between them.

— -

“Merlin—is a side effect of drinking too much Skele-Gro that you end up a bottomless pit?” you ask nobody in particular as you continue to shovel eggs, toast, bacon and sausage into your mouth. Next to you, George laughs and pats you on the shoulder.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” he tells you.

You peer over and smile—your bones in your arm are fully restored, but still in a sling; Madam Pomfrey had insisted. Across the table, Fred is looking rather sullen indeed.

“Brighten up, would you, Weasley?” you kick him playfully under the table and his stoic face breaks into a toothy smile. He’s feeling rather guilty, he is. Wasn’t able to stop the bludger in time. Neither was George. As if you’re reading his thoughts, you tell him, “It’s not your fault, you know.”

“Yeah,” he replies, stirring his spoon in his cup of tea. A bit too loudly, he continues, “Slimy Slytherin beaters—”

“Easy,” you say in a low voice, as the entirety of the Slytherin Quidditch team glances over at your table, and Fred’s gripping his fork tightly in his other hand. “Don’t need any more of us taken out of the next match, do we?”

Another safety measure of Madam Pomfrey’s. No Quidditch for a few weeks, at least. This means, of course, missing the next match: Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. You’d tried to fight it, but when her mouth had formed into a thin line and she’d crossed her arms indignantly, you knew there was no changing her mind.

Why is it, Fred thinks to himself now, that Slytherins tend to get away with everything? The punishment of the two beaters was absolutely nothing like he’d expected—one detention each with Snape, who had basically grinned at the sight of your broken arm and shoulder. He’s so bloody tired of it, he wants to give them a taste of their own medicine. Perhaps, if he picks George’s brain, he can think of something—

His thoughts are interrupted when you kick him again under the table. “Hello—earth to Freddie?”

“Sorry,” he replies, biting into his toast, “what did you say?”

“I was saying—” you begin, and Fred notices his twin is now down a few seats talking with Ron and Ginny, leaving you two alone, “would you mind helping me pack up my bag after breakfast? It’s proving rather difficult with one arm since I have this sling across my other shoulder—”

Before you can finish, you both hear a group of Hufflepuffs from the table over discussing something animatedly. Fred catches bits and pieces of the conversation—he swears he hears ‘bludgers’ and ‘poor girl’ quite a few times. Before he knows it, they’re standing up and waltzing over to the Gryffindor table—more specifically, toward you.

“Oh bloody hell,” you mumble under your breath and look at Fred with wide eyes. You don’t need to say anything else for him to understand. Leading the pack of distraught looking Hufflepuffs is—Fred’s least favorite person in the entire world, and that’s including Malfoy—your ex boyfriend.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says awkwardly as he approaches the table at once before you and Fred are able to escape. He looks down at your shoulder and says in a tone Fred can’t decipher as sarcastic or genuine, “real sorry about your arm. Terrible thing those beaters did. Are you okay?”

With a slight eye roll from you and a laugh he tries very hard to suppress, Fred finds himself lost in his thoughts again. He’s transported almost immediately to the common room, to a very late Monday night after a very long detention with Professor McGonagall.

When he sprang through the portrait hole that evening, ready to divulge to you just exactly how he’d landed himself in detention the night you were both supposed to continue your weekly Monday traditions of exploding snap over small glasses of Butterbeer, he was a bit taken aback when he saw you crying in the corner, peering out of a window at the starry night sky. Immediately, his insides turned.

“Y/N?’ he asked when he finally reached you, nervous of how you were going to react to his very late arrival.

You sniffled a bit and wiped your tears away with your shirtsleeve. He felt surprised when you said softly, with no twinge of anger, “W-where’ve you been?”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, sitting across from you on the window ledge. He let his bag fall to his feet with a dull thump. “McGonagall caught Georgie and me right after class—I was dragged to immediate detention without being able to come back to the common room to tell you—I could use a good butterbeer right now..” but his voice trailed off when he noticed that you weren’t really listening. Your eyes were letting tears escape with no effort, and he spotted your hands trembling against your knees. You weren’t upset about the game of exploding snap. His heart sank into his chest when he realized this was something deeper. “Hey,” he said, placing a hand over yours, “are you okay?”

“H-he,” you started, and Fred could tell that you were embarrassed. You couldn’t even look him in the eye. “It’s over. He broke up with me.”

“W..what?” Fred asked, his hands suddenly felt extremely cold. He squeezed your knee and waited.

“He said he.. sees me as a friend,” you told him, and Fred shook his head in utter shock, “he doesn’t.. feel anything a-anymore. I think..” you continued, your voice slightly higher than before, “I think there’s s-someone else.”

You threw your head into your hands and began wailing. Fred had never, ever, ever seen you cry before, but he didn’t like it. He wanted to do everything in his power to make it stop, make you smile, make you happy.

“What a complete git,” he told you before pulling you into his arms. You were nearly on his lap. You rested your head on his chest and let out painful sobs for a few minutes while he thought, in a panicked state, of words to say. You’d always been tough. Independent. Happy-go-lucky. So to see you in this emotional, co-dependent, messy state—he felt strange. Off balance. It made his heart hurt.

“Hey,” he said after a few minutes once your tears seemed to slow, “how about we make you some tea, get you into some comfortable pyjamas, and then we can talk through it—how does that sound?” When he noticed you were about to argue after pointing to the butterbeer and cards on the table even though he knew you didn’t really want to play, he continued, “Nah—not really in the mood to get my arse kicked by you tonight.”

You laughed through a hiccup and squeezed his hand tightly before pulling his arms around you again. “First, can you—can you just stay here with me?”

He felt you tense up beside him and he knew that you were trying your hardest to fight back more tears rising to the surface. He pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arms tighter around you, enclosing you in the warmth from his own body.

“Okay then,” he replied and felt you relax beside him, “I can do that.”

“Maybe we can—we can talk it over.” Fred’s brought back to the present when he feels yet another light blow to his shin from you under the table. He blinks and looks into your eyes, which are wide, and he feels himself go weirdly alert.

“I don’t think so,” you say to your ex now, almost laughing a bit; he’s looking rather annoyed and stunned at being turned down. You swallow over a lump in your throat, “Besides, I’m—I’m seeing someone else, so, I think you’d better leave.”

“What?” he says breathlessly, almost looking heartbroken. Is he trying to mend his ways after watching you hit the ground with a loud splat! a few days ago? Fred’s insides turn. “Since when?”

“Since..a few weeks ago.” Fred can sense the panic in your voice as he watches your eyes shift from your ex to your breakfast plate and to him, a cherry red color flooding your cheeks and the tips of your ears. And without a second thought, you say, “Right, Fred?”

And Fred’s agreeing before he can fully digest your words, he’s nodding without breaking your gaze, he’s smirking at you without remembering there are other people around him. Finally, he looks up into the very baffled face of your ex boyfriend. “Yeah, we are—so—I’d bugger off if I were you, mate.”

“You two?” he asks, looking at Fred with what can only be described as pure anguish. “Together?”

“It’s time to go,” whispers another Hufflepuff, pulling the very distraught looking boy in front of you both back to their table before he can say anything else to you. Fred watches as he slumps in his seat and rubs his head, as if confused. Then, he turns back to you and raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, Freddie, I’m sorry!” you shake your head rather quickly and bring a hand to your mouth in shock. “I panicked, I just—he kept trying to ask me to grab lunch with him, I didn’t know what to say to get him to leave me alone, ‘m so mortified. We can just—pretend it never happened, you don’t have to do anything, I can just deal with whatever it is he has planned, it’s fine—”

“Hey.. take a breath,” he laughs and teases you before reaching across the table and squeezing your hand. “It’s fine, I get it. Besides,” he takes a quick bite of an apple and smirks at you, “I’m honored you chose me to be your fake boyfriend.”

“Well, you’re the only one here, silly.”

He pauses to consider this, and then says, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that and tell you again how honored I am.” You laugh at this, and he grins cheekily at you as he continues, “I mean, imagine if you’d done that to George, he would’ve stumbled over his words—you know how he gets under pressure sometimes—gets flabbergasted, he does. You’re lucky ‘m quick on my feet.”

“Well then,” you reply, sipping your tea as Fred watches your nerves subside, “glad to have you along for the ride, Weasley.”

— -

It’s difficult watching the team’s practice. Fred had told you to maybe stay in, not watch, he’d fill you in later on your replacement. You’d insisted on coming anyway. But he was right.

They’re not completely out of sync—the third year Chaser they snatched up is pretty good for never having really played before. But if Fred’s being completely honest, he misses you on the pitch more than anything else. It’s just not the same without you.

You enter the Great Hall for dinner, and you’re so annoyed at doing everything one-armed that you nearly rip the sling right off of your shoulder, even though Madam Pomfrey had insisted on wearing it for two more days. Okay, maybe you did it a little too fast. “Ow,” you say, rotating your shoulder back and forth to stretch the muscles, as if they’d been asleep for months and months. You furrow your brow in pain.

Fred snorts before sipping his pumpkin juice. “How’d that feel?”

“Not the greatest,” you admit, taking a seat next to him.

Just then, he slings an arm around your shoulder and places a light kiss to your forehead, taking you by surprise. You turn to him with a raised eyebrow. He places his cup gingerly on the table. “Git sighting, on your right.”

You stealthily look on the other end of the Great Hall, your ex trying his best to look distracted, but there’s no chance in hell he didn’t see this exchange between you and Fred. Solemnly, he follows his fellow Hufflepuffs from the hall.

You both hadn’t even noticed George, Ron, and Harry take their places beside you at the table, eyes wide and faces flushed.

“When the bloody hell did this happen?” Ron nods at the two of you, shoving pork into his mouth.

“I’d like to think if my two best friends got together, they would’ve at least mentioned it to me—how long have you two been sneaking around?” George teases you with a wink.

Both you and Fred let hearty laughs escape your lips, as if to say, Sneaking around? You’re out of your mind, but instead, you both say, “We’re just faking.”

“Come again?” Ron and Harry chorus together.

“Faking—you know, Ronniekins, pretend.” Ron’s ears turn a bright scarlet color. “Just for fun. Y/N’s lovely ex bombarded her the other day after her injury, kept bugging her to grab a bite with him, so she very politely took me by surprise and told him, before consulting me, that we’re dating. Of course I obliged—being the lovely gent I am.”

“It did not happen like that—”

“You’re absolute rubbish at lying, you know.”

You throw your hands up in surrender, your face a nice light shade of rosy pink. “I panicked!”

“Precisely,” Fred and George say together. “And how long are you two planning on keeping this little scheme going for?” George asks.

You and Fred turn to each other. It is now revealed, Fred realizes as he watches as you peer into space, that you have no plan. He leans back in his seat, looking rather satisfied at the fact that you haven’t come up with any details at all. “I—I hadn’t thought of that. I just kind of.. went for it. I was acting on the very daring nerve that comes with being a Gryffindor!”

“Right you were,” says Fred through a mouthful of potatoes, “barely skipped a beat, she did. Reckon she couldn’t wait for it to happen—she nearly pounced on me right in front of him.”

The boys roar with raucous laughter. You roll your eyes and turn your attention to George, Ron, and Harry, who are now wiping away tears from their eyes. “You don’t really believe him, do you? This will not last long. Believe you me. It was purely a spur-of-the-moment adrenaline rush decision.”

“Hey, Y/N?”

You turn back to Fred and ask in a sweetly sarcastic tone, “Yes, Freddie?”

“I’m invoking a rule. No falling in love with one another.” He winks and bites into his chicken.

You scoff at him, while the others chuckle again. “Ah yes, darling—because that’s so very likely.”

— -

When Fred finds you sitting underneath a large oak tree in front of the castle, he laughs softly when he sees you in quite a frazzled looking state: your hair is in disarray from pulling at it, the bags under your eyes make it look like you haven’t slept in days, and he can almost feel the pain radiating from your tired muscles.

He sits down next to you in the grass and teases, “You’re quite a sight for sore eyes.”

“Oh, shove off,” you reply, not even looking up from your books. But after a few seconds of silence, the two of you fall into fits of laughter.

Fred nods at the books you’re so very immersed in. “What’s so important?”

“D’you think,” you begin, flipping the pages rapidly, “if I can find a spell that can produce a change in thought process on another human being, and somehow manage to stealthily pull it off and use it on Madam Pomfrey, she’ll change her mind and let me play in the next match?”

Fred cocks his head to the side, peering admirably at you, and smiles sweetly. “It doesn’t look very likely.”

“Ugh, I thought you’d say that.”

“But hey—there’s always obliviate,”

“Honestly, it’s getting to the point where I’m actually considering it.”

“Sure,” he says teasingly again, “I’d pay quite a lot of galleons to see you use any type of magic on a staff member, let alone something as dangerous as a memory charm.”

You cross your arms defiantly. “Don’t think I’ll do it?”

“No,” he smirks, “I know you won’t do it.”

You narrow your eyes at him and give in. Fred can’t help but laugh. “Okay, well—it would be really dangerous! But c’mon—I’ve gotten involved in a fair share of mischief with you and your brother; need I remind you of the time you landed me in detention my second year? A mere twelve year old, in detention…”

“Reckon that’s when you put this whole fake boyfriend thing into action, did you? When you fell for me all those years ago?”

“Ha-ha, you’re wickedly hilarious, Freddie.. seriously, funniest bloke I’ve ever met..” Your voice trails off when you notice something a few feet away, but Fred’s still thinking about how you called him the funniest person you know, even if it was in a sarcastic tone. But deep down, he knows you’re completely serious. He can feel his heart begin to soar a bit. His meandering mind is interrupted yet again by someone walking along the water’s edge—an unwanted visitor. Quickly, you shift yourself closer to Fred and say in a hushed voice, “Hurry—put your arm around me!”

He can’t help but stifle a laugh at your extremely flustered state. “Anything for my girl.”

You fit in so comfortably in his body that he doesn’t even notice how much time passes by. You spend the afternoon immersed in books, while Fred is resting against the tree, falling in and out of sleep with breaks to fix some malfunctions on some very small inventions of his and George’s. Each and every time he looks up, he notices the very curious looking ex boyfriend of yours watching you both, as if he’s trying his very hardest to prove that the two of you are just pretending. And each and every time Fred turns his attention back toward his inventions, he finds himself pulling you tighter and tighter into his arms.

— -

You and Fred are walking rather reluctantly through the corridors to your next class. If only you both had a free period, you’d be able to catch up on some work. But alas, here you both are, walking very, very slowly to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“How’s the team holding up? I’m dying to get back out there with you.”

“Miss me that much, do you?”

You narrow your eyes and the unmistakable sound of mock laughter from Fred bounces off of the walls. “I miss Quidditch is what I mean. It’s killing me that I can’t join you lot—especially with the match just a week away.”

Fred smiles softly at you, feeling a twinge in his heart, knowing that you won’t be able to play, regardless of your completely healed shoulder. “I know. It’s killing us, too. But come the new year, you’ll—oi, bloody hell, does he just spend his time following us around, or something?”

Fred nods in the direction of the unwanted visitor yet again, and he grabs your hand quickly and continues to walk down the corridor, careful to avoid eye contact. That is, until he corners you both.

It’s not in a violent sort of way—but rather, curious. You’re both bracing yourselves for yet another attempt at getting you to rekindle things, when he takes Fred by surprise. “Why is it, Weasley, that whenever I see you two around, you very quickly grab her hand or sling your arm around her shoulder? What is this—just a ploy?”

“Come on,” you say to him softly, and Fred’s feeling very, very nervous that your facial expression will tell your ex everything he needs to know. “Leave us alone, would you? We’ve got class.”

“Prove it to me, then,” he says now, crossing his arms. “If you two’re really together, then kiss her.”

“What?” you both say aloud, flabbergasted. You look at Fred, who’s doing his very best to bite back a smile, and it’s becoming difficult to not laugh in your ex’s face.

He smirks at the both of you, his cronies surrounding him doing the same thing. Fred squares him up, and it’s easy to tower over him, Fred’s 6’3 frame swallowing him nearly whole. “I don’t think that’s such an odd request—kiss your girlfriend, Weasley, and I’ll leave you be.”

It’s obvious to the both of you, now, that he is basically waiting for you all to admit that yes, you’ve been faking, the entire time it hasn’t been real. You open your mouth to speak and Fred notices the panic in your eyes, the truth bubbling up inside you. So he does the only thing he can think of—he wraps his arms tightly around your waist, pulls you close to him, and presses his lips to yours.

You try very, very hard to hold back your surprise, because you’re extremely aware of the group of Hufflepuffs now watching you both share a kiss that is supposed to look like it happens all the time. You’re sure you’ve lost your voice now. His lips are soft, softer than they look, and Fred’s finding it difficult to remember why you two haven’t been doing this the entire time. He pulls away very, very slowly, hovering close to you with a cheeky grin on his face, before breaking completely and taking your hand in his again, squeezing tightly. Fred notices the scarlet color of your face now, turns back toward the stunned man in front of him, and replies, “Is that all? My girlfriend and I have class, if you don’t mind—”

You swiftly walk your way through the group and you and Fred nearly fly down the hallway, his face as red as his hair, his smile as bright as the sun, and you bring your hands to your lips and you swear you can feel the electricity surging through them, just as they had when Fred kissed you just a few seconds ago.

“You were going to tell him!” Fred’s laughing now, outside the entrance to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, but he can feel his heart thundering in his chest due to the heat of the moment. There’s nothing quite like an adrenaline rush. You reply, “He—he knows we’re lying!”

“Well, now he doesn’t,” Fred replies with a cheeky wink. “C’mon—I made you a deal, didn’t I? Couldn’t let that git get the last word. Now he’s got no bloody idea what’s going on.”

“How can I ever thank you?”

Fred swallows over a lump in his throat, peering deeply into your very bright eyes. He knows what he wants to say, and he’s about too, but something stops him. Something holds him back. Instead, he grins, shakes his head, and slings an arm across your shoulder, making sure to hold onto you just a little bit longer this time.

— -

Fred, George, Ron, and Harry are sitting in the library looking positively ghastly. Ron and Harry are very reluctantly working on a Divination essay that Hermione had finished a week ago, while the twins are racking their brains to finish this petty assignment from Snape.

You wander inside and Fred notices, for the first time in a few days, that your sling is back on your shoulder. Concern floods through his body. “Hey,” he says, immediately pulling you into his arms, “are you okay? Is it bothering you?”

You’re positively beaming—that’s the only way Fred can describe is. Your smile is quite bright, looking happier than you have in months, even with your arm in a sling. “Yeah,” you tell him sweetly, taking a seat next to him, “hurts a little. Probably just slept on it funny, or something.”

“Be careful,” he tells you, snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him, completely ignoring the assignment in front of him, “let me know if you need to go to the hospital wing, okay?”

You nod and begin to slowly pull spell books from your bag when you notice the others across the table, looking at you both with what can only be described as mischievous grins.

You and Fred look at each other, and then at them. Fred’s hand tightens around your waist. “What?” you ask together.

“You know he isn’t here, right?” Harry asks you both. George and Ron are focusing very hard on their parchments, and are not doing a very good job at stifling their laughter.

It’s almost immediate that Fred unwraps his arm from your waist, and your face is burning with color, and Fred’s insides are beginning to tighten due to embarrassment. But before he can speak and defend his actions, you speak up, “Oh, erm—could’ve sworn I saw him—must’ve been my eyes playing tricks on me, then. Anyway..”

The rest of the afternoon is spent in utter silence, recovering from that tiny slip up and moment of embarrassment. And one by one they leave—first Harry, then Ron, and then George—who, by the looks of it, is nowhere near done with his assignment—but he claims he has somewhere he needs to be, and vanishes through the doors of the library before either you or Fred can do anything.

About an hour later, you ask Fred, “Could Snape be any more vile? Why did he assign this stupid essay again?”

Fred laughs softly, “because some Ravenclaw started insulting his teaching methods in the middle of the lesson—remember?”

“Oh yeah,” you say, the memory coming back to you now. Brightly, you say, “Hey—want to get back at that Ravenclaw and plan some elaborate type of prank to make this whole assignment just a little bit more bearable?”

Fred turns toward you with a surprised expression on his face. He smirks and shakes his head in admiration, “I think I’m becoming a bad influence on you.”

You bat your eyelashes at him and say, “Maybe. Would that be such an awful thing?”

And then he pulls you nearly all the way into his lap, begins tickling you and poking you in the ribs, and you begin to flail in his arms and laugh hysterically, when Madam Pince angrily shushes you from the other end of the library. You flip your hair out of your eyes and regain your composure, and Fred is suddenly very aware that you’re still seated in his lap, your face only inches from his, the bright color of your eyes sparkling in the sun flooding in from the windows. Right. You’re not actually technically together. He swallows thickly and watches as you bite down on your lip. You’re both about to say something, hearts thundering loudly in your chest, when suddenly you break the silence and slide yourself off of him, back into your seat and say, “We’d better head to the feast, Freddie. Don’t want to be late.”

— -

“Anyone fancy a game of exploding snap before bed?”

Ron’s sitting in the middle of the huddle, finishing the last of his dessert from the feast, while everyone around him is slumped in their seats looking positively exhausted.

George says sleepily, “Can’t mate—we’ve got a late night practice tonight.”

“D’you think Angelina will give me a beating if I just sleep through it?” Fred asks nobody in particular, his eyes closed.

“Yes,” you, Harry, George, Ginny and Hermione say together.

“Oh fine, you lot are out,” Ron waves his hand in the direction of the Quidditch players and then glances excitedly at you, Ginny, and Hermione. “Ladies? Anyone? Feeling kind of lucky this evening.”

Ginny snorts at this. “You? Lucky? Luck would be me not absolutely obliterating you in a game—not you winning. That’d be a miracle.” Her older brothers chuckle quite animatedly at this comment; it’s certainly woken them up a bit.

You grin at Ginny and then say to her very angry and embarrassed looking brother, “What she means to say, Ron, is that we’re all kind of exhausted due to lack of sleep, because someone—” you shoot a glance toward another Gryffindor girl on the other end of the Great Hall, “—put an amplifying charm on some Muggle contraption of hers last night, music kept us up till nearly dawn.”

Ron turns back toward his brothers now, looking confused. “No way you could’ve heard that from the girls dormitory, or Harry and I would’ve been up all night, too! So why are you two so bloody exhausted?”

“Usual mischief,” Fred and George chorus together, winking at the youngest male Weasley.

Ginny picks up her bag and says to the group, “I’m heading to bed. You two coming?” she glances at you and Hermione.

You glance back and forth between Ginny and Fred and bite your lip. You’re absolutely knackered, but you wonder whether you should go to practice, just to be there, just to watch, just to show you’re still devoted. Fred picks up on this and shakes his head. “You’re tired—go to bed. Promise you’re not missing much. Reckon we’ll all be rubbish due to exhaustion, anyway.”

“Okay,” you finally reply, albeit begrudgingly. Fred places a quick kiss to your cheek, the group stifles laughter, and you, Hermione, and an extremely baffled Ginny make your way upstairs to the common room, leaving the boys to their jokes in the very crowded Great Hall.

When you enter through the portrait hole, Hermione wishes you both a good evening before heading up the stairs. This leaves you and Ginny alone in a completely desolate common room. You remove your shoes and stand across from the fire, letting the warmth of the flames radiate through your body, when Ginny clears her throat.

“Care to tell me what’s going on between you and my older brother?” she says cheekily, grinning at you. She so very much resembles all of her siblings.

You laugh softly, running a hand through your hair and stretching your arms behind your head. “I thought Ron would’ve told you.. It’s nothing, Ginny. Promise. We’re just pretending. My ex has been strangely remorseful about the breakup lately, trying to get me to talk to him and what not—Fred’s just helping me out a bit.”

“By pretending to date you?”

“Yeah..” you say a bit guiltily now. “Yeah, it sort of happened in a moment of panic. Don’t worry, though. None of it’s real. Just till it gets the other one out of my way—then we’ll go back to normal.” You turn back to face the fire and it suddenly feels much, much hotter than before.

“But this is the normal you actually want, isn’t it?”

This takes you by surprise. You turn back slowly, now facing Ginny, and she’s wearing a genuine grin. “I—I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“I’ve watched Fred and George for years,” Ginny tells you, “admiring their recklessness and rebellion—but in turn, this also means I see who they get on with.”

“Meaning?”

She smiles softly, looking a little sulky actually, which is so very unlike Ginny. And she confides in you, and she’s acting very vulnerable which makes your heart soar, “I’d give anything for Harry to look at me the way you look at Fred.”

You swallow over a lump in your throat, and Ginny can easily sense your nervousness. She reaches out and places a gentle hand on your shoulder. In a very hoarse, soft voice, as if your vocal chords have been strained, you plead, “Please, please don’t tell him.”

She doesn’t respond to this exactly, but you know she’ll keep her lips sealed. She asks, “How long?”

“I—I dunno,” you tell her truthfully. You bite your lip to keep your heart jumping out of your throat, “over time, I suppose.” You continue to tell her of how everything unfolded, how Fred had jokingly told you to not develop feelings for him, how he’d kissed you that one day in the corridor.

There’s a few moments of silence between you both, but there’s nothing uncomfortable about it. In fact, it’s the most comfortable you’ve ever been with one another—secretly longing for the boys who don’t seem to look at you both the way you so deeply yearn. Finally, Ginny breaks the tension and says, “Your secret is safe with me. Just be careful, okay? I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

Is this her way of telling you that Fred doesn’t feel the same way as you? That these feelings you have for him are a hundred percent one sided and are not at all reciprocated? It’s as if she’s reading your thoughts, because she tells you, “I’ve no idea how he feels—he doesn’t tell me anything at all, real git that he is,” you both laugh at this exchange, and Ginny echoes herself, “Just be careful.”

“I will,” you reply, now realizing that she’s has given you quite a lot to think about, “Thanks, Gin.”

— -

Fred’s feeling positively blue, if you will. He’s standing smack in the middle of the corridor in his Quidditch robes after a truly rubbish weekend practice, staring at the spot you were just standing. It’s like you’re still there, he can still smell your perfume, but he reckons you’ve probably already made it back to the common room by now.

Just then, he feels a hand on his shoulder. He jumps in surprise, and turns around only to be face to face with George and Ginny, who laugh at his skittishness.

“You alright, mate? Coming to the Great Hall?”

“Yeah.” Fred’s voice sounds vastly different in his own ears; it’s hoarse and broken, and he doesn’t understand why. He coughs a bit, and then echoes himself, “Yeah,” except he doesn’t believe it, and neither do his siblings.

George stops bouncing his broomstick between his hands at once. He looks once at Ginny and then back at Fred as the corridor begins to fill with students, “What’s going on?”

“Sh-she ended it,” he replies, and the words feel foreign in his mouth.

“Who, Y/N? The.. fake thing?” George asks, lowering his voice. “Maybe the git is finally leaving her be.”

“No, that’s not it. She wouldn’t tell me. She was.. weirdly quiet. She told me that she was worried things are going to get messy and she’s afraid rules are being broken on her end.. has she said anything to either of you? What is she even talking about?”

George responds quickly with a, “No, nothing,” whereas Ginny hesitates a bit, and then responds, “No, Freddie. She hasn’t.” But Fred can sense that his little sister isn’t giving him all of the info. Had she talked to you? Does she know what’s going on? Then George nudges his brother and asks a bit cheekily, “Does this make you upset?”

“No, no, of course not!” Fred says a bit aggressively, but both of his siblings just cock their heads to the side, as if to say, Really, Freddie, we can see right through you. “I—I mean—I just.. thought we were having a bit of fun.”

“Yeah,” George begins, while Ginny remains quiet by his side, “okay, you were having fun, but.. what I’m asking you, Fred, is—do you maybe want to be with her for real? And that’s why you’re upset?”

When Fred doesn’t answer, Ginny finds her voice. “We know, Fred.”

“Know what?”

George and Ginny say together, “That you fancy her.”

Fred runs a hand through his hair. He’s feeling aggravated now—he doesn’t like when his mind and thoughts get picked apart by people closest to him, especially when he’s trying on his own to piece together exactly how he feels. But he comes to realize, as his heart begins to beat faster when he thinks of you, that his siblings are right. He’s felt this way for a very, very long time.

Without showing just how much he really feels for you, Fred tells them, “Yeah, erm, okay, I—maybe I have some.. feelings,” he says through gritted teeth and George can’t help but stifle a laugh at his twin’s nervousness. Fred punches him in the arm. “But she kept saying that she’s breaking rules—but what rules? I haven’t the foggiest what she’s on about! I don’t even know if she feels the same way!”

“Fred,” Ginny says quietly, “you jokingly made one rule with her when you two began this whole ridiculous stunt.” When Fred just looks at his sister quizzically, wondering what the bloody hell she’s on about, she opts to continue, “you told her you’re not allowed to fall for one another.”

Realization hits Fred like a ton of bricks, George throws his hands up in confusion, and Ginny pushes on Fred’s chest and grins cheekily at her older brother, leaving poor George baffled beyond belief at this secret language his other two siblings seem to have. Ginny nods in the direction of the common room, “Just go get her already, would you?”

And Fred’s flying through the corridors and up the stairs, he’s pushing past students and professors alike, he’s running hands through his messy, windswept hair and he’s climbing through the portrait hole, only to find you sitting on the ledge near the window looking out at the stars, just as you had all those long months ago when he found you crying.

“Hey, Freddie,” you say when you turn to face him. “Everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer—he pushes past the desks and chairs blocking him from you and does the one and only thing he wants to do, the only thing he’s ever wanted to do for as long as he can remember now—he scoops you up into his arms, presses his forehead to yours, and kisses you. For real, this time.

Your surprise is overridden by the slight, exasperated moan that escapes your lips before you wrap your hands around the back of his neck. His fingers are dancing across your hip bones and then make their way up your back and into your hair. He kisses you once, twice, three more times before fully breaking, and hovers close to you again before pulling away completely to see the sparkle in your eyes, the bright smile plastered across your face.

As you push down any nervousness rising to the surface with a quick swallow, you say, “So.. where’ve you been?”

Fred laughs haughtily now, remembering that time all those few months ago when you’d said the exact same thing in a completely different context. He’s finding it beyond difficult to not kiss you into oblivion right now, especially as you bite on your bottom lip to try and suppress a very large grin.

“Sorry, love, I got tied up with my thoughts—but I can stay here with you now.”

He pulls you into a tight embrace before his lips find yours again. You can both hear voices outside the portrait whole. It’s obvious to you now that you have mere seconds before your alone time will be so very rudely interrupted by fellow Gryffindors.

“I broke the rules,” you tell him with slight tears in your eyes, playing with the baby fine hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Me too,” he admits breathlessly, swiping his thumb across your cheek. “I broke them a long time ago.” His heart begins to thunder inside of his chest at the feeling of your lips forming a smile against his, and he’s almost positive you can hear it—but he doesn’t care. He wants you to know you get his heart racing—more than pranking, more than firewhisky, more than Quidditch—more than anything or anyone in the entire world. He continues after another small kiss, “I reckon some rules are meant to be broken, though, aren’t they?”

reblogs & feedback are always appreciated, darlings. thank you for reading and requesting, much love x

[wide-eyedscottishlass]

Scarlett and the Professor - a lazy Sunday morn

[continued from]

moodboard by @strangelock221b​ 💙  

Scarlett flipped onto her side, instinctively turning away from the sunlight filtering through her closed lids. The silk sheets cocooning her were slick and cool, but the sun had warmed her face enough to awaken her senses. In moments more, she breathed deeply--taking in the heady scent of all that sex, that astonishing, wicked, glorious sex--and gave out a purr of satisfaction. She was smiling before she even opened her eyes, remembering herself--happy and sappy and deeply in love.

“Ah, at last,” he chuckled; she heard not only his genuine amusement, but the crinkle and flip of some large pieces of paper. Newsprint? A newspaper than. Scarlett smiled into her pillow; of course he would prefer paper over the digital version. True hedonist that he was, Hennessy would always opt for the most tactile sensations.

“There’s my little sleepyhead,” he added with true affection, so that she popped one eye open and then the other. Hennessy sat up against the headboard, a couple of pillows propped behind him, bare to the waist. His long legs stretched out before him, covered in a pair of dark grey, silk pajama bottoms, and his feet were also bare. Scarlett sighed softly; when even his feet appeared to her as sexy, it must certainly mean there was no saving her from the beautiful fall she was taking.

She reached up to check the tangle of her hair, blinking at the strong sunlight filling the room. “Mmmmm...why didn’t you wake me?”

He flicked the top of his newspaper down to the crease, favoring her above his reading glasses with indulgent mirth. “My darling Scarlett, you needed your rest, of course. My fault too, as you were rather spent by the time I finally let you sleep uninterrupted.” His grin was smug, yet still she saw his genuine fondness for her, weakening her heart all over again.

“I’m not spent now,” she urged him, shimmying close enough to lay her hand on his bicep.

He pursed his lips, his eyes widening, “Well, haven’t you learned your lessons well! And now looking for extra credit...”

Scarlett batted her lashes and replied breathily, “Extra, extra...Hennessy.” She had already come to love how he looked when she dared call him by name.

His mouth dropped open as if to respond, but he was interrupted by the loud buzz of a text alert on his mobile. “Hold that thought, little lamb,” he commanded, “And I promise to give you all the attention you so deserve.” Hennessy took a perfunctory look at his phone, them jumped up from the bed, taking giant strides to the door. He turned back her way, eyeing her as though he saw right through the sheets, while his smile grew salacious. “Mmmm...mmmm...mmmm! You could almost make a man forgo his other hungers, Scarlett. But we don’t want out breakfast growing cold now, do we?” He dashed from the room.

Perplexed and a bit stymied--god, how perfectly divine he’d looked framed in the doorway, all firm, warm flesh, so srtong and long and lanky, that all she wanted was to mold her body to his as she lay beneath him--Scarlett turned onto her back and gave a long, languorous stretch, waiting upon his return. She heard his heavy front doors close and then imagined him taking two steps at a time back up to his bedroom suite. The mouthwatering scents of fresh pancakes and bacon preceded him into the room.

“Voila! Here’s my version of breakfast in bed.” Hennessy seemed very pleased with himself and with surprising her, crossing to the bed and setting down two plastic sacks filled with cardboard containers. He put a smaller paper bag on his bedside table, which turned out to hold coffee and orange juice.

Scarlett’s stomach had begun to rumble the moment the aromas reminded her that she hadn’t eaten anything in over twelve hours. She scooted up against the headboard, keeping the sheet decorously across her breasts, while Hennessy took his place beside her and began to dole out their meal. “There’s bacon and sausage, darling. Wasn’t sure you had a preference, but there’s more than enough of both.” There was plenty of syrup and butter, too, and a container of sliced and sugared strawberries, along with whipped cream, to top the pancakes. And a heaping serving of cheese-topped scrambled eggs.

She tucked in with relish, and Hennessy laughed good-naturedly at the evidence of her hunger, the smile lines beside his pale blue eyes (Scarlett sighed inwardly; they always look so astonishingly pale in strong sunlight!) grown dearer than ever to her heart. Since the moment that he’d taken her in full, she’d already stopped herself from saying that she loved him a half dozen times--and he was making it very hard for her to continue to suppress that urge.

“What?” He asked, around a forkful of pancakes and eggs. He must’ve have seen a flicker of that thought cross her face.

“Oh...ah...nothing...really,” she fibbed, lowering her eyes so he wouldn’t read more, “I’d been hoping to make some scones this morning---but this...this is so much better...”

“It is, isn’t it!” He hummed a jaunty tune as he set himself a second serving of everything. “But please don’t be too disappointed about your scones, love. The morning paper and breakfast takeaway in bed is a Sunday ritual I will never go without, come hell or high water.”

“Of course...” The danger of him guessing how soft she was for him seemed to have passed for the moment.

“But if it would make you happy, we can have them with tea this afternoon. Or failing that, another breakfast morning. Would that work for you?”

“Oh, yes,” she nodded, happier at the implication that there were further breakfasts together in their future, than for the promise of the scones themselves. “Whatever you want...darling.” His smile was pure sunshine as he leaned in and kissed her mouth, before returning to his meal.

After they broke their fast, he had her in the shower, amid a thick wall of steam created by the dual showerheads--taking her with such a stunning ferocity that he left her filled with speechless bliss, and legs shaking so badly that she had to lean on him for several minutes until she felt strong enough to support herself. Though he was both amused---his low rumbles of laughter at her very flattering reaction had echoed all around them---and highly satisfied, he also became the soft, solicitous lover in the aftermath, smoothing gentle hands upon her wet hair and scattering loving kisses on her face, murmuring endearments against her skin.

’My darling...my angel...my lovely, little lamb. My sweet, sweet Scarlett...’ Spurring her to ask herself: how can he see to my needs this way and still not know he owns my heart?

Why, he’d even stepped from the shower first--telling her to just hold on a tic--grabbing a thick, thirsty towel to swaddle her in before he wrapped one around himself, and then had guided her to sit on the padded vanity stool next to the long bathroom counter. Never having observed a grown man in his morning ablutions, Scarlett found herself fascinated watching him run gel through his thick, dark hair, trying to get it to behave as he preferred, and then lather up and shave. Shaving with meticulous care, the quiet scrape of the razor against his skin reminding her that this was all very real. That this complicated, brilliant, perpetual temptation of a man had welcomed her not only into his bed, but into the privacy of his home and the rhythm of his life. 

The air was soon rich with his scent--Bleu de Chanel--as he applied a generous dose of aftershave. When he grabbed his toothbrush, he turned to her with a grin, “I’m almost all set, love. Then you can have the room to yourself to do...whatever it is you do to keep yourself looking so...hmmm...scrumptious.”

Scarlett nodded, though she would have been just as content to simply watch her magnificent lover--her private Hennessy--in the domain which reflected exactly who he was, going about even his most ordinary tasks. Her heart was so entranced now that she wanted to memorize his every detail. 

He gave her another toothy grin, then strode over to deposit his towel in the hamper, casually revealing the full glory of the form she had come to worship. He flashed her a wink when he caught her staring-- she just couldn’t help herself, and odds were he knew that. “You might want to suit up, darling. It looks to be the perfect day for a swim.” Then he was out the door, leaving Scarlett to daydream her way through her own morning toilette, wondering what new lessons Hennessy might have in store for her. Eager to learn--and even more eager to please.

               ____________________________________________

Scarlett had plaited her damp hair into a Dutch braid, draped across her shoulder, hoping to keep her hair tidy if they did end up taking a swim. She slipped into a modest tankini with her denim capris over that, and then grabbed her rucksack before she headed downstairs. If Hennessy was busy--she’d noted he had taken his newspaper to wherever he’d gone off to--she had a bit of actual course work to do. Sketches for a study of the natural world, prep for an end of term project--a large, landscape painting in the artist’s choice of medium, along with a portfolio of drawings and any other work she did towards the completion of the final piece. She’d found the seeds of inspiration in Hennessy’s wild-grown garden, as well as in his serene shingle of private beach, and she was keen to make a start. 

She found him with his paper beneath the patio umbrella, with an iced pitcher of lemonade, one empty glass and one half-full, upon the wrought iron table. As he had advised her, he was clad in swim trunks and a matching, athletic fit surf tee. In blues and sea greens of course, the hues that not only dominated his casual color palette, but flattered him perfectly. 

Scarlett set her bag on one of the spare chairs, poured herself some lemonade and then topped off Hennessy’s glass. He thanked her before turning his attention back to the crossword puzzle he was working on. “You do them in pen?” she observed.

“Is there any other way?” he had narrowed his eyes while he was trying to work out a clue, rhythmically tapping his ball point pen on the glass table top. “Six letter word ending in k-a...an exclamation...hmmmmm...” 

She couldn’t resist chiming in, ‘eureka’ just as she began to set out her supplies, then pulled her sketchpad from her rucksack. 

“Eureka, indeed,” he chuckled, glancing over to watch her preparations. “And what’s this, little lambkin? Another hidden talent?” 

“Depends on what you would consider talent, Professor,” she stated modestly, “I draw a little, I paint a little. Always looking to improve.” She opened up to the middle of her sketchpad, several pages past the drawing she had indulged in the previous afternoon, meaning to avoid him catching sight of it. 

“And what sort of things give you inspiration, my dear? People, places...things, mayhap?” Hennessy’s curiosity had been piqued, and he was craning his neck to get at least a little peek. 

”Well, yes, of course,” she teased innocently, not ready to volunteer a thing, while setting the edge of her pencil onto the rough surface of the blank page. There was the scrape of chair legs dragged across the calypso coral stone beneath their feet as he drew nearer, and soon he’d made it impossible for her not to acknowledge that he was leaning in close, laying his hand on the back of her neck, toying with the few stray hairs that had escaped her braid. Scarlett turned her head slightly, just enough to see Hennessy from the corner of her eye, catching enough of him to recognize the mischievous glint in his. “What,” she asked quietly, realizing that she would accomplish nothing until she had at least humored him.

“Just curious, darling.” He ran a single finger across her bare shoulder and down her arm, a sure and pleasant distraction, softening her resolve. “I think you’d like to show me your work. Wouldn’t you, Scarlett?”

“I suppose,” she replied with a sigh, though she remained uneasy about how he would react to the liberty she had taken, of sketching him. 

“Always my good girl.” He brushed a quiet kiss upon her cheek and then rested his hand on the center of her back, waiting patiently as she flipped back to the opening page. 

“Some of these are incomplete,” she noted, “Mostly just for practice, or because I haven’t decided yet what other elements should be part of the composition.” Scarlett could feel his eyes study the page she had revealed, a very flawed study of the little cottage of her youth. “And of course, there’s a lot of trials and error.” 

“That’s home,” he observed, sounding more fascinated than such a simple thing usually allowed for. 

“Uh-huh.” Encouraged by that sign of his sincere interest, she turned a few pages more, where her work depicted rustic exteriors of her native Scotland, and several sketches of the village-side inlet that she would forever think of as her own. Next came several studies of a sunny, seaside bay, ringed to the beach’s edge with one and two story buildings set very close together. To the last of these, she’d chalked in traces of color--vivid blue for the water, pale pastels on random buildings--and had treated the sketch with a fixative to keep the chalk from rubbing off.

“These are lovely, Scarlett,” he exclaimed, absentmindedly massaging the stretch of skin between her shoulder blades. His touch felt blessedly cool on her sun warmed flesh.

“You needn’t sound so surprised, Professor,” she replied coyly, so that he chuckled and laid a kiss on her shoulder.

“I’m not, darling. Truly, I’m not.” He drew a deep breath, then added, “Though I’m curious about where these are from.”

Scarlett paused a moment, recalling those endless, sunny days and balmy, starlit nights. “They’re from my time in Mykonos, at the end of my gap year.”

“Clearly, you found the place enchanting, my dear. Why, it nearly leaps off the page!”

She watched his profile as he leaned in for a closer look. “Do you really think so?” How happy it made her to see his enthusiastic response!

“Absolutely,” he assured her, giving a low whistle of appreciation, “And if I had to guess, I’d say that you were at least a little bit in love with the place.”

“I...I was...” she breathed softly. And with a beautiful young man there. My dear Benedicktos.

Inevitably, the next series of sketches raised Hennessy’s curiosity even further. “And who’s this?” Scarlett heard a trace of judginess creep into his voice.

“Oh...um...an artist I met while I was there...” Artist, sculptor--and if only our stars had aligned properly, he would have been my first. My first lover.

“I see...” And surely Hennessy could see her true feelings for her Bene, pictured in the loving way she had drawn his lines and angles. One page was filled with thumbnail sketches of just his face in profile. She had worked a couple of those into larger versions, and chalked color onto them as well. They showed a thick, unruly crown of dark, windswept curls. Smooth, well tanned skin and a sensuous looking mouth. And eyes of pure sea green.

“I think you were at least a little bit in love with this boy, too,” he observed quietly, and he gave her a beat to respond, though she could not for the lump in her throat. “Weren’t you, Scarlett?”

She took a deep breath, gathering her composure as well as her wits; she would not share that golden time with Hennessy. Not yet, anyway. “I suppose I was, at least a little bit...but then, it’s easy to fall in love in a place like that...”

“I suppose it is, little lamb. And lucky boy he must’ve been.” To her wonder, his smile felt a little false. He couldn’t possibly be jealous, she told herself; doesn’t he realize I’m his completely? 

She tried to turn rapidly over the following pages, but Hennessy stayed her hand, determined to see the full story. Scarlett had draw Benedicktos sitting shirtless and cross-legged at the water’s edge. Standing and gazing out at sea, watching the sun set. Smiling vibrantly, cheeks creased with rows of dimples, while he appeared to be laughing. The last sketch showed him shirtless again, his smile softer but no less dazzling, as he stood in the prow of a fishing boat, a tall line of verdant cliff tops in the distance, the blue of the sky just a little lighter than that of the Mediterranean. 

Her teacher had gone silent as she flipped past the last page in that series and put the pad down. “Hennessy?” She placed her hand on his, where it rested on the table. “That was years ago. Sometimes it feels like a lifetime--once I got home, my mother fell ill for some time, and...and we fell out of touch right away.” He nodded and smiled, but she felt she needed to offer more. “That’s how holiday romances go, right? Golden but fleeting...” And now my heart belongs to you. Forever, by the feel of it. 

“Yes,” he nodded again, and she wondered if he caught the flavor of that thought, for he raised her hand to brush his lips against her fingers. He studied her face a moment, and his sunshine smile returned. “But I want to see them all, darling. You do have quite a talent.” 

And so they continued. Hennessy laughed genially at her studies of her little black kitten, Chaucer, ranging across her book shelves, warming himself on her laptop keyboard, and curled into a fluffy little ball upon her bed pillow. “I swear, he really did all those things,” she confided, glowing a little in the face of her lover’s generous regard, “It’s like he owns the place now, and I’m just the guest.” 

Hennessy clucked his tongue. “Bosh. We’ll see who runs the place when I come to visit. My will is certainly far stronger than his.” 

A little thunderstruck, she asked him breathlessly, “You’d come to see me at my flat?” 

“I don’t see why not,” he grinned, and then seeing what it meant to her, he issued a hasty disclaimer. “Of course, that’s no promise it’ll be any time soon, my dear. Timetable to be determined.” 

“Oh, absolutely,” Scarlett nodded, doing her best not to seem disappointed. It was too much, too soon to have expected, anyway. 

At last they arrived at the sketch, the one over which her anxiety had been gradually growing. The moment of truth. She averted her eyes at his sound of surprise, as he stood up and took the pad right out of her hand, to finally exclaim, “Well, I’ll be damned!” In the brief silence that followed, she could hear the thump of her own heart, hoping against hope that he had meant that in a good way. “Scarlett...darling...when did you do this?” 

She finally raised her eyes, to find such an open, soft expression on his features that her heart just about skipped a beat. “Yesterday. After I...left you in the study...”

Hennessy crooked his trademark, honest half-smile her way. “This...this is really good, my dear. And I have to say...quite...flattering.” 

Scarlett was memorizing the look of genuine wonder in those eyes that had the power to command her and cajole her. Frighten her for breathless moments, and just as effortlessly mesmerize her. Fancying that someday soon she’d capture the chameleon beauty of those eyes in this particular moment, in charcoal and in chalk, so to frame them and keep them well beyond the days when his interest in her finally waned. “I just drew the truth, my jo,” she shrugged, “Exactly as I saw it.” 

His mouth hung open as he reached to brush back some strands of hair that had fallen across her forehead, then stroked his thumb across her cheek. “You have a true artist’s eye, love.” His voice was the velvet caress she had come to crave. “And your romantic nature shines through in...all of these pieces. I am both flattered and honored by this...gentle version of me. By the beauty you’ve rendered to even my most...jarring...defects.” 

She bit her lip, and could only bow her head in thanks, else her voice might break with the tenderness he stirred her to. Jarring defects. His mysterious scars. How she ached to know their origin, and to give him comfort for whatever pain he’d suffered from them--though she knew she could not, should not, ask. But at least she knew she’d touched his heart in their regard, and that would have to be enough for now. 

Still tracing her cheek, Hennessy moved into a crouch beside her. The heat had brought a ruddiness to his face and the bright sunlight allowed her to study the soft smattering of freckles across his skin. Scarlett had a moment to think about how very much she’d like to capture this look on him, deciding that her Prismacolors colored pencils might be best, before he moved in close enough for kissing. “Would it be too vain of me to say that sketch is my favorite, darling?” 

“No. Not at all,” she breathed, contemplating how she might express on paper, the perfection of his cupid’s bow, the temptation of his tender lower lip. Even unto the wee scar that couldn’t mar it’s beauty, and which she had already tasted countless times, and hoped to taste countless more.

“Perhaps someday you’ll sketch me with the passion you expended on your Greek boy.” He was teasing her, of course; he had to be. He couldn’t know she was thinking exactly that. “In fact, I would enjoy that very much, Scarlett. To have you ply your...talent...on me.” 

Hennessy’s breath was on her lips now, the promise of his kiss achingly close. She shut her eyes, panting in anticipation. “Yes...on me, sweet Scarlett. On me, and me alone.” She whimpered beneath the searing power of his kiss, as though by accepting it, she’d made some sort of Faustian bargain--and thus he had claimed yet another piece of her soul. 

          _________________________________________________

tagging: @strangelock221b​  @ben-locked​  @ben-c-group-therapy​  @thelostsmiles​  @splunge4me2art​  @humanbornarchangel​  @tsukuyomi011​  @ravencatart​  @doctor-stephenstrange​  @letterstosherlock​  @emilyinnj4real​  @aeterna-auroral-avenger​  @frowerssx2​  @groovyfluxie​  @candie-girl22 

(And yes, my friends, I promise there will be watery fun to come in the next installment *grinning wickedly*.)

[futurewriter2000]

If we are not this, then what are we? - pt. 14

A/N: I wanted this to be a fluffy ending but since @with1love1anu thought fluff was boring I did this instead. I think you guys will really love it. 

XX

Today was the day.

Today was the day, you will step on that boat and float away into your future. No more looking back. Seven years of hard work are going to pay off.

You smiled to your reflection, dressed in your graduation gown, light makeup and braided hair, just as your first day in this school.

You turned around, taking that last sight of your room, your bed you stressed, cried and laughed on. The nightstand that was filled with so many objects and books- it still stands firmly on its wooden feet.

You felt your heart squeeze in your chest and tears wanting to come out but you pushed them back inside. No way you will let tears ruin your makeup today.

You turned to your mirror, smiling proudly at yourself. “I’m ready.” you said, walking out of your dorm only to find one Hufflepuff shamefully waiting for you outside Slytherin entrance.

He looked up, ashamed of his last nights’ actions and words. His strong arms were dangling from his shoulders as they held onto the hat and his eyes speechless.

You gave him a soft simper, remembering what Will told you and stepping to Davie, embracing him with forgivness.

He wrapped his muscled arms around you and lifted you off the ground for an inch, mumbling into the crook of your neck. “I’m so sorry, (y/n).”

“It’s alright, Davie.” you whispered back, feeling your feet touch the ground and his arms unwrap your body. Your hand placed itself on his cheek and you smiled at his glistened eyes. “Today is the day. We shouldn’t start our new chapter based on past events.”

He smiled taking your hand and kissing your palm sofly, kindly... friendly. “I just want you to know I’m back on my meds- I know Will didn’t tell you but I am on medication and I stopped taking them a while ago.” he let go of you. “I decided it’s better for me to give up alcohol then my meds. I don’t want to put you through what I did last night.”

You felt your eyes tear up but you swallowed them back up because of your makeup, hugging him around his torso. “I’ll always be your best friend, Davie but I really am sorry we can’t be more.” you pulled away and cupped his jaw. “But one day you will find a girl that will love you so much- so much more than me and Will do together.”

“I know.” he placed his hands on top of yours and gently removed them from his jaw, looking at the Slytherin graduates leaving the dungeons and to the lake. “So how about we finally leave this place.”

“I’ve been ready for so long.” you smiled, starting to walk along side him and after the other Slytherins. “Bet Will is already waiting for us?”

“Or he’s back in my dorm getting ready- though I haven’t seen him?”

“What do you mean?”

“Last night we had a talk, of course but I thought after he went to you?”

“He wasn’t with me.”  you furrowed your eyebrows.

“He wasn’t? Reckon he went back to get the whiskey, got drunk and lay somewhere?” he laughed and you did the same.

“Ah Will, he probably woke up near Sinatra’s office again.” you shook your head, remembering he often went to his office for some odd reason.

“Sinatra always gave him detention, so I wouldn’t be shocked.”

You laughed. You laughed all the way to the lake, reminiscing of all the adventures and the memories you had with those boys. You and Davie were back on being friends, you were going to see James and talk to him- clearly you haven’t thought a word to say to him but it didn’t matter. This was new chapter.

It was your new chapter.

---

You and Davie were one of the first who got there. There were many Ravenclaws, quite a lot of Slytherins, some Gryfindors and you were pretty sure Davie was the only early Hufflepuff.

He narrowed his eyes at the group and scoffed. “I’ll be damned. Cannot believe I am betraying my own house’s stereotype on my last day of Hogwarts. Should I go back, be a bit late?” he nudged you with a grin.

“I mean... at least you’re early once.”

“True...true but that’s breaking my own personal record.”

You shoved him away, laughing and rolling your eyes at the same time. “Childish games, Coleman. We are now becoming adults!” you beamed at the view and put your hands on your hips.

“Speak for yourself!” he scoffed.

“Can’t believe that on their last day of Hogwarts- on their graduation day! They forgot their hats!” you heard Remus complain to Peter.

“Even I didn’t forget.” Peter replied with a laugh, trying to keep up with Remus long steps.

“EXACTLY!” they passed the two of you by meanwhile you and Davie just exchanged looks.

“You know... sometimes I wonder how Will and you are not besties with those two gits.” you looked at Davie beside you.

“Why?”

“Because all four of you are the most reckless human beings I met.”

---

Sirius and James did actually bump into Will on their way to the lake.

Sirius was pushing and goading James as they ran, clearly racing him to the boats as James kept pulling Sirius’ gown behind him, laughing.

“Always a Chaser, Potter but never a winner!” Sirius laughed as he kept running faster and faster.

James was sprinting after him but never quite catching up. “I’d say Moony is always the one chasing your arse on full moon and you running away like a whimp you are!” James panted after him, hearing Sirius laugh.

“You say it’s a curse but I say being bootylicious is a blessing!”

James started laughing and losing his breath at the same time. He had to stop running, just to laugh it out and get some air in his lungs. Sirius ran back to him, patting him on the back.

“There there mate.” he cooed. “Some people are meant to get grey at a young age.”

“You’re a dick.” James panted, holding onto his knees before straightning his posture and staring at the distance. “Shit my lungs are giving up!” he groaned, feeling a bit dizzy from the exhaustion.

“Oh, look. It’s Willie- OI!” Sirius shouted, cupping his mouth and waving at the Hufflepuff at afar. “OI!- HEY! COCKER!” he kept shouting and waving at the Hufflepuff.

James looked ahead, narrowing his eyes at the Hufflepuff dragging himself against the wall.

“Bloody sucker isn’t even dressed yet.” Sirius smiled as James kept trying to clear out the view.

Something wasn’t right.

Will was bent down, barely walking- dragging his feet behind him as his knees slowly started to give in, pulling themselves on the ground. James furrowed his eyebrows and saw Will’s hand leaving red stains on the wall.

“Pads, he’s bleeding!” James shouted and sprinted to the Hufflepuff, Sirius close behind him but Will was already on the floor, whimperin quietly. “Will! WILL?!” he shouted, looking up at Sirius and ordering him to get some help. Sirius ran as fast as he could, faster than before and leaving James at Will’s side.

James grabbed Will’s hand and squeezed it tightly. He noticed the ripped clothing and bite marks on Will’s body- werewolf bitemarks.

Bu- but last night wasn’t a full moon. Remus was with them all night- it couldn’t-

“Grey-” William started to speak, his voice shaking with his body. “-back.” he let out, feeling his eyelids close.

“Chill out, mate! Pad- I mean Sirius is going to get help and we’ll get you in a hospital and Pomfrey is going to make you good as new- you hear me! “ James rushed, grabbing Will under his armpits and lifting him up. “BLOODY HELL, COCKER?! What are you eating?!”

But Will was quiet. Quiet and still.

“Will?” James stopped dragging him, trying to get a response back. “Will?!” he let him go on the floor gently and rushing to his side. “Bloody hell, Will!!” he pressed his fingers to Will’s wrist. “Come on-” he muttered under his breath, shutting his mouth up completely and focusing his whole senses on Will’s heartbeat.

It wasn’t there. 

No!

- It was but it was faint. “Thank God!” James breathed out, relieved and slapping Will’s cheeks.

“Come on, mate! I know we’re not exactly besties but you have to wake up.” he kept tapping his cheeks, findinf him paler and paler with seconds. “Merlin, curse the day I didn’t take First aid lessons-” he looked up at the ceiling, gritting his teeth and praying to God to help him save this man. He looked back down on his pale and wounded face and gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry bout this-” he said before slapping his cheek so hard it burnt James’ palm.

“OOOOOHHH- BROTHERLY FUCKING HELL!” Will woke up and groaned, turning to his side.

“GODRIC’S BLOODY HAT-!” James groaned beside him, holding onto his palm. “What are you!? Made of metal?!” he glared at the Hufflepuff as the Hufflepuff shot him a glare back.

“You slapped a bleeding man and you’re the one in pain?!”

“I don’t know! You were half dead a minute ago! I thought you didn’t feel any pain?!”

“I swear to the four founders that I have no idea what (y/n) ever sees in you.” he added as he crouched, holding onto his bleeding hip.

James felt the need to smile to that. Not because he wanted to but because it genuienly made him happy whenever you were brought up to discussion. “Wha- what do you mean?” he asked, grinning and scratching the back of his neck. 

“She hasn’t told you yet?” Will said, furrowing his eyebrows at James before starting to laugh. 

“Told me what?”

“That girl amazes me sometimes.” 

“Yeah but can-”

“Oh dear lord!” McGonagall’s voice cut in as she appeared around the corner, shocked from the sight of one of her students covered in blood.

Four more teachers as well as professor Dumbledore appeared behind her, Sirius and other students as well but not you. No, you were at the lake, waiting. 

The professors cleared the corridor, flicking their wands and taking Will away, James by his side. 

“Why’d you stay?” Will asked, smiling at James with a toothy grin. 

“Bloody had to ask? (y/n) would kill me if you died.”

“Well, it would be fun making her life misrable as two annoying ghosts, wouldn’t you think?” he joked, caughing and causing the other professors beside him supress their smiles. 

“Could teach you some ways- got quite experiances on that area.” James kept walking along side him, all to the hospital wing where everybody stopped. James looked at Will’s golden-brown eyes and had thoughts running in his mind. 

This was the boy who stole his girl and this was the boy he fought in Sinastra’s class- the boy who he thought he hated... up until now. Up until he looked in his golden eyes and saw himself in there. 

“She loves you, Potter. Don’t do anything stupid.” Will smiled, lifting up his arm and opening up his hand. 

James grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” he smiled, letting go of his hand as Will laughed. 

“We’re gonna be great friends, Potter! That’s a promise!” he shouted as he disappeared behind the door, sending James another toothy grin before the door left him standing, alone and smiling. 

James stood, looking at the door and thinking to himself that finally, he’s going to start fresh. 

He thought of Will’s words over and over in his head- about you. About you loving him.

And as he turned around, leaning on the wall and sliding down to the floor, he thought. 

‘You and me. I would get an apartment with Sirius as you would live with your two best friends. We would start dating- Davie would be hard to convince but nothing a good charm can’t take. Our first kiss as a couple, our first time- the plan of marrying you would finally come back after 8 years and-’ 

“James!” he heard you calling and he imediatelly stood up, standing still and being unable to speak. 

He saw the look in your eyes- your makeup was ruined. The tears finally came out and you were standing, looking at the man with blood of her best friend. 

He knew how it looked like. He looked down on his hands and saw exactly that. He saw the blood and the dirt of your best friend on his hands. 

He didn’t know what to say, so he just kept muttering and suttering as he tried to tell you but not knowing what exactly. 

What was he supposed to tell you, looking like this?

You put your hand over your mouth and ran to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and bringing him to you. 

Surprised as he was, he let his hands hang down his body, contemplating whether to hug you or not. 

He did. Of course, he did. To have you in his arms after all the two of you had gone through in the past 400 something days was euphoric. To feel your hair on his skin, your scent in his lungs, your warmth on his body- it was euphoric. 

“I’m so sorry.” he muttered into the crook of your neck meanwhile you only squeezed him tighter and pulled away.

“Is he going to be okay?” 

“Well, he was talking back to me like an arse, so I think he’ll be fine.” James smiled, still holding onto your hips and watching you.

He hasn’t had you this up close since the night in the woods. You had a bit burnt cheeks since the last time he saw you- it outlined your eyes so goddamn perfectly, despite the tears they held. 

“What happened?” you asked, bringing him back from the daze. 

“Uh- Sirius and I were running down the corridor, being late and all and we saw cocker, teased him a bit before finally realizing that something was wrong. We ran to him, Sirius went to get help, I stayed with him and he-” James stopped, thinking back on it. 

How could he forget? He told him so clearly.

“He said-” James kept on thinking back. “He said Greyback.” he looked at you with wide eyes. 

If Greyback was in the woods that meant that he is on the castle grounds, which means more students are in danger. 

He let go of you, opening the doors forcefully in front of him to tell professor Dumbledore the horrible realization but before he could do any of it, his feet melted onto the floor and his eyes on the white cover over the Hufflepuff’s body. 

His heart turned cold and still. It felt like someone cut through his body as he watched the body on the bed. 

The professors were gathered around him, Madam Pomfrey with all medications and potions by her side but resting her hands on the bed. 

She mourned. They all mourned and James couldn’t bring himself to realize that the boy who was minutes ago alive and well, joking with him and promising him friendship- now cold, pale and still under the cover. 

His eye broke- it was as if somehthing cracked in half when he realized the surroundings. 

“Professor.” he whimpered and all the professors turned around with wide eyes, finally noticing the boy who stormed inside. 

“Potter!” McGonagall exclaimed, trying to make her way to him but James finally started to move forward. 

“He’s- he is- he is not dead! He ISN’T DEAD!” he started to shout desperately. 

“Mister Potter.” McGonagall started to walk after him, trying to calm him down but unsucessful.

“HE ISN’T DEAD! IT’S FAINT! IT’S FAINT BUT IT’S THERE! JUST LIKE BEFORE!!” he ran to his side and took a hold of his wrist, waiting for the heartbeat... 

waiting...

“James?” you entered right after him, just as Davie and Sirius and the other students that wanted to come in but Dumbledore shut the door after you, not letting anybody else in than just you. 

James looked up at you. “I- (y/n)- he was alive. He- I just need to listen.”

“The bleeding was severe, Mister Potter. It was too late-”

“NO!” he cut madam Pomfrey off as he continued to press his fingers on Will’s wrist. “YOU PROMISED!” he shouted, letting go of his wrist as he continued to shout, pushing himself away from the body and running his hands thorugh his hair. He looked up at the ceiling, fat, hot tears falling from his eyes. “You bloody promised.” he started to sob, feeling your hands wrap on his shoulders and collapsing on the floor, you holding him tightly against your own body. 

“You did enough- the rest was up to him.” you whispered calmly, holding him as he cried in your arms, grabbing your gown and burrying his head into it. 

“He was a boy- just like me- he should have lived.” 

[nearlymanaged]

14. Patronuses, Tactics, and Signs

January was rapidly coming to an end and the heavy clouds in the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall were the exact shade of the dreary moods of pupils and staff alike. The day’s Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons was prefaced, as if on purpose, by an article in the Daily Prophet about another attack on three Muggle-born witches who were tortured by a gang of Death Eaters and then given to Dementors to perform a Kiss. As a group of sixth year Gryffindors got up from their table at breakfast and made their way across the castle, that was all they could talk about, for one of the victims was the aunt of a fifth year Gryffindor girl.  

“Severus wants to join them, you know. The Death Eaters...” Lily spoke quietly, casting a glance at the back of Snape’s head, once the Gryffindors reached the classroom.

“You’re joking?” Remus raised his eyebrows.

“Does that really surprise anyone?” Mary, one of Lily’s friends, chimed in. 

“I knew he was a dickwad, sure, but joining the Death Eaters is a whole new level of evil, don’t you think?” Remus offered with a shrug. 

“Who’s joining the Death Eaters?” Sirius followed them into the classroom and took a seat next to Remus.

“Take a guess…”

“No way,” James breathed out.

“He wasn’t always like that, you know…” Lily whispered, not looking at anyone in particular.

“Don’t defend him,” Marlene hissed on the other side of her. “After how he treated you.”

“I’m not. I’m just saying… Remus is right.”

“What a piece of shit,” Sirius growled and Peter echoed the sentiment. 

The professor finally silenced everyone and started the lesson. The mood in the room remained just as somber, if not more, than it had been the whole morning. The students were told that in light of the recent events and the state of the Wizarding world as a whole, their D.A.D.A. lessons would be altered accordingly. That morning, instead of following the pre-planned course, they were going to jump straight to the Patronus Charm. 

“That sounds really difficult,” Peter sighed after they went through the theory part and were about to start practicing.

“Oh come on, you’ll do just fine!” Lily whispered at him, casting a quick, eloquent glance. “You’re capable of magic that’s far more complex than this.”

“I don’t know, that was different…”

“Don’t waste your breath, Lily. Peter’s got a flair for dramatics,” James smirked at his friend.

“Come on, Wormy, you’ll have a rat Patronus flying around in no time,” Sirius patted the boy on the back.

“You think that’s how that works?” James asked a little quieter, so that only the other Marauders and Lily could hear him.

“Let’s find out!” Sirius grinned at him.

The first one out of the five to successfully cast a Patronus Charm was Lily, about an hour into the double lesson; it was a hedgehog. James wasn’t too far behind her with his stag, then Peter managed to produce a rat. Sirius kept joking about how Remus had better pull himself together or else, he was going to be left behind. And what happened was just that - Sirius successfully cast a corporeal Patronus in the shape of a dog, while Remus was still shooting out faint silvery webs of light out of his wand.

Unbeknownst to the others, he felt a panic grow inside him with each of his friends’ successful charms. By the time they all saw Peter’s rat, Remus was convinced that his Patronus would surely assume the shape of a werewolf. And with that thought, all happy memories were wiped out of his head. He had no desire to let anyone see that.

“Still no luck?” Sirius appeared at Remus’ side.

“Er, no.”

“Weird.”

“Weird?”

“Uh-huh. You’re always the best at everything, out of the four of us.”

“Evidently not,” said Remus.

“Maybe Snivellus is blocking your good memories?” Sirius’ gaze drifted across the room, to where Snape was practicing with the other Slytherins. 

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so? Maybe I should jinx him, just in case?”

“How about no?” Remus completely forgot what he was doing, his undivided attention now on Sirius.

He still thought that Sirius had been acting off, somehow. Remus had noticed him become seemingly completely zoned out quite often, not really participating in conversations around him. Other times, he thought Sirius was staring, deep in thought, but Remus never could figure out what it was. Or rather who; he was sure that this strange behaviour must have been related to Sirius’ mysterious crush.

Frankly, sometimes Remus forgot that he had overheard Sirius telling Peter and James about fancying someone. It seemed like it had happened a long time ago, almost as if it had been years instead of months. Part of the reason was that Sirius never asked anyone out or mentioned anything about it, as far as Remus knew. But on the other hand, Remus sometimes found himself lost in a serendipitously intimate moment with Sirius, like leaning in much closer than needed to tell a silly joke or holding hands, completely innocently, as they made their way through a crowded corridor before lunch or sharing a bed - in those moments, it seemed impossible that anyone else could exist in the world but them two.

But then Remus would remember that Sirius did fancy someone else, and he would scold himself silently for letting himself drown in his idiotic daydreams.

“I’ll just fix his hairstyle,” Sirius aimed his wand at Snape. “Bald will suit him better than greasy, don’t you think?”

“Sirius, no.”

“You don’t think so?” Sirius’ head jerked, utter disbelief taking over his face momentarily.

“I mean…” Remus grinned.

“How about a unibrow?”

“No.”

“Maybe just a little Tickling Charm then?”

“Sirius.”

“Remus?” Sirius looked at him with a wide, toothy smile.

“No.”

“Oh, fine,” he let out a defeated sigh. “Alright, drop the act, Moony.”

“What?” Remus’ bewilderment permeated his voice.

“Why are you pretending that you can’t conjure a corporeal Patronus?”

“I’m not…”

“Well then I’m offended.”

“You’re offended?” Remus repeated slowly.

“Yes, gravely.”

“Sirius,” He placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder with an expression of mock worry, “what the fuck are you talking about?”

“I like it when you say my name like that,” Sirius smirked and Remus barely stopped himself from flinching away in an effort to hide his flustered face. Instead, he rolled his eyes. “Evidently, our friendship’s only brought sadness and misery into your life if you can’t think of a single happy memory that’s good enough for a Patronus,” Sirius said.

“Oh, shut up,” Remus turned away, a huge smile splitting his face.

“If it assumes the shape of our furry little friend,” Sirius shrunk the space between him and Remus and spoke barely above a whisper, “everyone will just think it’s wicked cool. And if not, I will personally jinx them.”

As Remus stared down at the floor, he could feel Sirius’ breath on the side of his face, all his worries slipping away, as if repelled by magic. He felt his wand glow with warmth in his hand, as if it was suddenly ready for the charm to be cast.

“Sirius!” James called him over and, with a quiet groan, the boy stepped away from Remus. 

Remus cleared his mind, only thinking of one thing - of how Sirius was always ready to stand up for him, to defend him, how he had done that many times. And how he always thought so highly of Remus, always acted like he was proud of him. Any memory, he thought, any moment spent around Sirius was a happy one.

He lifted his wand halfway and uttered Expecto Patronum, and a glowing, silvery shape burst out of its end. Remus had been so sure he was about to see a werewolf, that it took him a second to recognise what it really was when his Patronus perked up and started leaping around the room. It startled him so much that the spell was broken instantly, his guardian dispersing in silver wisps.

“Does someone have a wolf as a Patronus?” Someone asked loudly.

“I thought that was a dog…” Someone else responded.

“It was huge though!”

Remus felt completely mortified as he slowly turned to look at Sirius, but the latter seemed to have been looking the other way. James and Peter, on the other hand, were both facing Remus and must have caught sight of the glowing shape of the animal before it was gone.

“Was that…” Lily walked up to Remus, her eyes fixed on the spot in the air where his Patronus had disappeared. 

“Yes?” Remus fiddled with his left sleeve, not meeting her gaze.

“Was that a dog?” She whispered.

“Or a wolf,” Remus shrugged, although there was not a doubt in his mind at all that it had, in fact, been a dog; and not just any dog - it appeared that his Patronus had assumed the shape of Padfoot.

* * *

“I’m changing my tactics,” James declared to the dormitory; he had come back from a Quidditch practice about half an hour ago.

“Why? You’re a brilliant Seeker as it is,” Sirius muttered from his bed, where he was lounging with a Muggle magazine full of pictures of motorcycles.

“I’m not talking about Quidditch,” James gave a slight shake of his head, as if trying to get rid of a particularly annoying fly. “I’m talking about Lily Evans.”

“I see. So what’s the new tactic?”

“Well…” He muttered, looking increasingly more embarrassed. “It’s not so much a tactic as… She’s really kind, isn’t she?” He looked over at Remus briskly.

“Very much so,” the boy agreed, his eyes glued to three blue flames spinning mid air in front of him, directed by subtle movements of his wand hand.

James leaned back against the side of his bed and dragged an ancient gramophone across the rug, closer to himself. “I’ve been a bit of a prick, haven’t I?”

The rest of the Marauders all protested:

“What?”

“Nooo…”

“You’re a great friend!” 

“No, I mean...to Lily. Can’t imagine it’s very pleasant to have some guy hit on you and embarrass you in front of people over and over again…”

“Yep.”

“You’ve definitely been a huge prick.”

“Completely…” His friends responded in the same disorganised choir.

“So your plan is to...stop being obnoxious?” Sirius asked for a clarification, already having abandoned his magazine for something he deemed more interesting.

“Sort of. I was just thinking, maybe I should become friends with her, you know?”

“I would definitely recommend that,” Remus flicked his wrist to make his floating flames glide towards James and arrange themselves in a circle around his head. “She’s an excellent person to be friends with.”

“Wormy, you’re awfully quiet,” James shot the boy a glance as his fingered flicked through a boxful of vinyl records.

“I have my own problems, I don’t know what to do about Lydia,” Peter pulled himself off his bed and onto the floor to join James.

“How do you mean?”

“What do I get her for Valentine’s day?”

“A card?” Remus suggested.

“Flowers?” James added.

“Box of chocolates?” Sirius joined in.

“Is that too non-committal though? I mean, we’ve been going out for a while now… What if she expects something more?”

“Give her your virginity?” Sirius suggested with a cheeky grin and a shrug, earning himself a smack in the face with a pillow.

“Er, can we focus for a second, please? Can we go back to my problem?” James’ words caused him to be the recipient of the flying pillow.

“I thought your problem was solved?” Remus was making the flames spin around James’ head. “You’re abandoning your obsession to become friends, right?”

“First of all, it’s love, not obsession. And I wouldn’t necessarily abandon it, just put it on hold.”

“So you’ll only pretend to be friends with Lily?” Remus flicked his wrist again, guiding the flames towards the middle of the room.

“No! I want to be friendly with her.”

“Okay…”

“I can’t help it if I’m in love with her!” James’ voice went a whole octave higher as Remus’ eyes bore into him.

“Uh-huh…”

“Oh, let the boy live, Moony,” Sirius let out a feeble jet of water out of his wand, trying to extinguish Remus’ flames. He felt an unpleasant prickling sensation wash over his body - if Moony knew how Sirius felt about him, would he accuse him of dishonesty? Would he feel lied to and betrayed if he knew that Sirius had been pretending not to want them to be something more than just friends?

“Lily’s got an excellent dragon dung sensor,” Remus shrugged, got up, and started picking up his books and stray socks littered around his bed.

“It’s not dragon dung!”

“I didn’t say it is, I’m just letting you know.”

“If she just gets to actually know me, maybe she’ll realise that I’m not so awful?” James looked at the other two boys now.

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re that awful,” Sirius threw him an overly serious look.

“Just don’t overthink it,” Remus said without looking at James; he had started cleaning out his trunk.

“I mean, I have to put some thought into it, don’t I? I can’t fuck it up...”

“Oh really?” Sirius glared at James, thinking about all the times his friend has pestered him to ‘just talk to Moony and get it over with’.

James flashed him an irritated frown and looked at Remus’ back. “Hey Moons, maybe if you talk to her--”

“I think it’ll take more than just talking to her, but I refuse to feed her love potion. You’ll have to ask someone else,” he answered without so much as a glance around again. 

“Fuck you, Moons,” James grumbled as Sirius and Peter laughed. “Hear me out though, if you just, er, aid me in spending more time around her--”

“It’s not going to work,” Remus interrupted him. 

“It is too! I’ve thought this through!”

“You thought?” Sirius gasped, earning himself a middle finger from James.

“When have my calculations ever been incorrect?”

“Well--” Sirius opened his mouth only to get cut across.

“Shut up, that was one time.”

“Well…” Remus joined in.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I just know I’m right this time.”

“You always say that right before--”

“Shut up, Peter! Moons, just hear me out… I want to be honest with her, of course, but I just don’t see how I can do that if I’m never around her, you know? I’m just asking you to help me with reasons to spend time with her. And then if she hates me...well… Oi! Are you listening?” James threw one of his pillows at Remus and missed.

“Yes. It’s just taking me a while to process all this idiocy all at once.”

“Remus!” James gasped dramatically, clutching at his chest. “You’re supposed to be the nice one out of us!”

“What, I’m not allowed to have fun?” Remus glanced at James with a big grin. “Of course I’ll help you, Prongs,” he pulled a dustbin closer to himself since he had started accumulating a small pile of rubbish on the floor. “We’ll set up a time to do homework together, classic. And who knows, maybe I won’t be able to make it, maybe I’ll have a nosebleed or maybe someone will run me over with their car, depending on how lucky I’ll get.”

“Moony, thank you. Sirius,” James turned to him, “can you keep an eye on Moony while I do homework with Evans next week?”

“Sorry, can’t. I’m taking a driving test that day,” Sirius shrugged, making them all laugh.

James finally chose Aladdin Sane out of the box of records, placed it onto the gramophone, and tapped it with his wand a few times. Then, the vinyl disc started spinning and music burst out of it.

“You are the tidiest werewolf that has ever lived,” Sirius landed on Remus’ bed and propped himself up on his elbows as he watched his friend, “and you call yourself a monster?”

All of the boys laughed at this before falling into a comfortable silence, filled only by the sound of music. Sirius watched Remus as the latter was cleaning out his trunk, pulling broken quills and chocolate wrappers out of it and tossing them into the small dustbin.

Sirius had been doing that quite often lately - watching Moony, as if it would help him figure out what he was thinking and feeling. He even caught himself a few times having gotten lost track of conversations he was participating in, forgetting to say anything, distracted by Remus’ enigmatic presence. 

On one hand, Moony didn’t seem to be put off by the flirting, but then he didn’t really reciprocate it either. On quite a few occasions, Sirius wanted to ask him about the French boy, but he never knew how exactly. He wanted to know if Remus liked him, if he had been thinking about him, if he had been writing to him… But he was afraid of sounding too obvious in his concerns. He felt like these questions would have given him away. And what if the answers were not what he hoped and wished for?

He had the sudden urge to verbalise some of these questions as he lay across Remus’ bed, but before he could act on it, he rolled over on his back and closed his eyes. One song had just finished and a few quiet seconds later, the first chords of Drive-In Saturday rolled across the room. Sirius smiled to himself as his mind followed the song and drifted off to thoughts of Remus. He was mindlessly spinning his wand between his fingers as vivid memories of a dream he’d had a few nights ago swam into focus. He had held Remus close, he’d been touching his face and his hair, and gazing into his eyes; and it had felt so real when they kissed, and Sirius was reliving the dream all over again. 

And then it happened so unexpectedly that he nearly jumped out of his own skin - a shower of red sparks shot out of his wand, narrowly missing Peter’s head as the latter was making his way towards the window. “What did you do that for!?” He yelped indignantly.

“I’m sorry, it was an accident,” Sirius was now kneeling on Remus’ bed, holding his palms up defensively.

Peter frowned at him before turning away to open the window. As Sirius dragged his gaze away from the boy, he saw James giving him an expressive look and then glancing at Remus quickly. The little gesture, Sirius was sure, was a reference to a surprisingly stern talking that James had given him a few days ago.

It was the morning after Sirius had fallen asleep in Moony’s bed. It had felt so surreal, not only sleeping wrapped around him, but also waking up inches from his face. But then James had gone all mental on him - he had talked about how recklessly Sirius was acting, how he mustn’t play with Remus until he gets tired of him, like most of his other romantic encounters. James had told him that Sirius needed to either tell Remus how he felt or get over it and move on. Otherwise, he had said, someone was bound to get hurt and the last thing he wanted to see was their friendship being ruined by it. As Sirius was thinking about it, he muttered Wingardium Leviosa and lifted a crumpled up chocolate wrapper out of Remus’ nearly-full dustbin. He spun it in the air a couple of times, right in front of his face, before flinging it across the room and into another bin with a flick of his wand.

Sirius couldn’t argue with James, he admitted to himself as he lifted another piece of Remus’ rubbish. After all, this wasn’t fun for him either. He wanted to be with Remus, he wanted to tell him that he was in love with him. But he was afraid of the definitiveness of Moony’s response. Sirius was afraid that if Remus said no, that would be the end of it, the death of any last hope. 

As these thoughts mulled around in his head, Sirius charmed another piece of crumpled up paper to levitate out of the dustbin and stop in front of him. He was about to move his wrist to send it flying across the room when something caught his eye. Sirius stole a quick glance around to make sure that no one was looking at him, before snatching the piece of paper. He flattened it out a bit and as he looked down at it, a smile crept across his face. This had to be a sign, he thought as he crumpled the note with Vincent’s address on it and threw it into a bin on the other side of the dormitory.

[jalapeno-princess]

Misunderstandings

Mark Tuan X Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: You’re failing your marine biology class and your best friend Youngjae recommends you sign up for tutoring. When you walk in to the tutoring center and your eyes land on the handsome boy who claims to be your tutor, you grow excited to start your sessions but you don’t know whether it’s because you have hope to pass your class or because you get to spend time with Mark. As the weeks go by, you end up developing feelings for the older boy and little do you know, he ends up falling for you too.

A/N: My last day of class was yesterday and I wrote this story last week the day before my finals and I was failing my marine biology class (please do not sign up for marine biology unless you’re passionate about science because I did not understand a fucking thing but ya girl got a C GOD BLESS) the thought of Mark as a tutor makes me cry I would purposely fail a class just to have him tutor me

“Y/n, it’s really not that bad. A 64 is still passing. D’s get degrees—“ 

You yanked your quiz from your best friend’s hands and began to walk away out of frustration. You had taken your midterms just a few days ago and you‘ve been studying for all five of your classes for the last month. There was no problem with any of your four other classes. However, science was never your forte; specifically marine biology. 

When you were first signing up for classes, the idea of learning more about the ocean and marine animals intrigued you. Therefore, you didn’t hesitate to add Marine 465 to your schedule. Unfortunately, once you began the class you were ultimately regretting your decision. 

For the most part, you considered yourself to be pretty smart. Sure, some classes were easier than others but you always tried your best when it came to your education no matter how hard the subject was. You’d put in more time in studying and went the extra mile to make sure you succeeded no matter how difficult the class was. 

As soon as your professor started with his lectures, you felt extremely lost and no matter how hard you studied, you weren’t retaining any information. It was as if everything you learned about sea level rise, coral bleaching and erosion went through one ear and out the other. When you received the exam a few days prior, your heart immediately sank like it normally did whenever you’d take the first look at an exam and did not understand a single thing. 

You were sure you studied for this midterm the longest out of all your classes but no matter how hard you tried, you just weren’t meant to do well. You answered every single question to the best of your ability and you had a tiny bit of hope that you did decently; but when your professor passed back your graded tests right before ending class, you were on the verge of tears.

“Youngjae, I am a nursing major. I can’t get anything lower than an A. This is so disappointing. Might as well turn in my scrubs now and drop out of the program. There’s no use! Nothing is going to help me at this point. There’s only one more assignment and that’s the final exam. Even if I do well on my exam, the highest grade I’ll get is a B. A B isn’t good enough Jae. Fuck science. What does marine biology even have to do with nursing? I don’t recall having to give shots to sea turtles!” 

The older boy caught up to you and pulled you into his embrace in attempts to calm you down. After six years of friendship, he was completely aware of what a goal driven person you were. Whatever you set your mind to, you’d do anything in your power to achieve it. After taking a look at the grade you were given, Youngjae knew that chances of you getting an A were extremely slim; but it didn’t mean it was impossible. 

Your best friend saw you through both your highest and lowest points and he knew you could handle anything negative that life threw at you. Your marine biology class was no exception. 

“I really don’t know what to do other than withdrawal and retake it again next semester.” You released an exhausted sigh before taking a seat on the nearest bench. 

“Have you ever thought about tutoring? Oh come on, don’t give me that look. What? Is the great y/n y/l/n too good for tutoring? Even the smartest students ask for help sometimes y/n, it wouldn’t hurt for you to ask for help once in a while. Maybe you’ll have an easier time learning from someone one on one rather than when your professor teaches your entire class. I’ll even go with you if that’ll make you feel more comfortable.” 

You gave him a soft smile before ruffling his hair. “Fine. We’ll go tomorrow. But if one of those nerds wants to get smart with me, I won’t hesitate to throw hands.” Youngjae’s laughter engulfed throughout the front lawn as the two of you continued to make your way to your last class. 

The next day, you found yourself hiding in the library and began ignoring Youngjae’s calls and texts to find out where you were. Right after he dropped you off to your apartment the night before, you decided that you did not want to go along with having to seek help with your studies. To say you were a stubborn person was an understatement and you knew you were being childish trying to refuse Youngjae’s attempts at trying to help you with your grades; but you hated the thought of having to be tutored because it reminded you that maybe you weren’t necessarily great at everything as much as you wanted to be. 

Knowing how you could be, he knew exactly why you weren’t answering his calls and he was well aware that you were planning on running away from his recommendation. One thing Youngjae loved most about you was your confidence and how you had such a good head on your shoulders. It was also something he cared about the least seeing as how you refused help from others no matter how much you obviously needed it. He began to search for you throughout the entire campus and since he knew you like the back of his hand, it didn’t take him long to find you. 

When you felt an arm on your shoulder, you jumped in surprise but released a frustrated grunt when you realized who it was. “Youngjae—“ he shook his head before gathering up your things and reached for your hand. 

“You’re not getting out of this. Y/n, just because you’re receiving help from someone else, doesn’t mean you’re any less smarter than you are. Stop being so stubborn. The tutors are genuinely nice people and they just want to help you. If you keep this act up then just take the F already. I don’t know what else to do for you!” 

Seeing your best friend so upset over something that wasn’t even his fault made you feel like a terrible person. He was only trying to help you because he hated seeing you beat yourself up over something he knew you tried your best at. Which is why you pulled him in to your embrace and leaned your head on his shoulder while whispering countless apologies against the juncture of his neck and finally agreeing to receiving help from a tutor. 

You’ve never been to the tutoring center before because you instilled it in yourself that tutoring was the last thing you ever wanted to go through but you were desperate. 

“Hi, how can we help you today?” 

For a moment, you felt like a little kid. Since you only agreed to be there a few minutes ago, you didn’t really understand how the tutoring center worked. You turned around to Youngjae and gave him a knowing look to which he sighed.

“She’s not doing too well in her marine biology class and needs a tutor.” 

The girl at the counter nodded in understanding before taking a look at her computer. After a couple of seconds, she picked up her phone and dialed whom you assumed to be your tutor. 

“Mark will be here in a few minutes. Please sign in and have a seat over there.”

You did as you were told and sat down on one of the couches before beginning to pick at your nails nervously. Youngjae gently squeezed your thigh before gently shoving you. 

“Hey, it’s just tutoring. You’re acting as you’re going for a job interview or something. It’s going to be just fine.” 

You heard some sneakers against the ground and when you looked up, your eyes widened in shock. He wasn’t someone you’d expect to be a tutor. As much as you didn’t want to be stereotypical and assume that all tutors were someone who wore glasses and suspenders, that was your idea of what your tutor would look like. 

The boy standing in front of you was wearing converse, a pair of gray sweats and a flannel. His hair was dark brown with soft, fluffy curls and the toothy grin he flashed you made your cheeks warm. 

“Y/n? Hey, I’m Mark. Follow me.” 

Youngjae gave you a wink before shoving you towards the extremely good looking boy. 

“So, I was told you need some help in marine biology. Do you mind taking out some of your homework and maybe some of your notes so I can get an idea of what you might need help with?” 

You sat down at the table with all of his things and began to pull out everything he was asking for from your backpack. After you took out your work and handed it to him, he started to look over your papers and began writing something down. 

“These are really good notes, but I think you’re having a hard time with analyzing and understanding the material. That’s why I’m here.” 

For three hours, Mark tried his best in making the lessons easier for you to comprehend by drawing out some key terms that he thought would help you get an idea of marine life. Once he felt you had enough for the day, he handed you back your papers and gave you a soft smile. 

“Good work today. I’m sorry if you still are having a hard time understanding, but I’ll be glad to help you up until your finals. How does that sound?” 

The idea of spending more time with him sent a warm feeling to your tummy. Throughout your entire session, he was extremely patient with you and even threw in a couple of jokes to make the atmosphere more relaxing. He even let you take a couple breaks as the two of you began asking each other a couple of questions to become more familiar with one another. 

You found out he was an engineering major but he was minoring in marine biology. From the time he was younger, he was always fascinated with the ocean and wanted to find ways to help preserve it. Hearing him talk about how passionate he was in finding solutions for climate change and coral bleaching brought you in a daze. Before you could leave, you both exchanged numbers and planned another day to meet up again. 

Once you began making your way back to where Youngjae was, you could feel your heart rate increase at the thought of seeing Mark again. 

“So, how did it go?” You shrugged before motioning for him to get up. 

“It was okay. He’s nice and you can tell he’s very passionate about marine biology. But I just have a hard time grasping the information. I don’t know about this Jae. It’s useless. I don’t want to waste his time.” 

Youngjae grabbed your backpack and your books as the two of you began walking towards his car. If there was anything Youngjae hated, it was hearing you talk so negatively about yourself. 

“Y/n, you’re not wasting his time. He signed up to do this for a reason. You’re not going to retain all this information in one session. You’re going to have to meet up with him multiple times in order to complete understand everything your professor is teaching you. I wasn’t there to see how he goes about with teaching you, but I’m sure they don’t let just anybody become a tutor. Don’t give up before actually trying okay? He could be the reason you’ll get an A at the end of the semester so just hang in there.” 

You weren’t afraid of Mark not being able to help you raise your grade. It was obvious he knew what he was talking about. You were afraid of gaining feelings for him because you felt that he would only become a distraction. It was already hard enough for you to learn about marine life, what more if you were to develop a crush on the person whose supposed to be teaching it to you? 

Over the course of a month, you’d meet up with Mark on Monday’s, Wednesday’s and Friday’s from 2:30 to 5:00. It didn’t take you long to finally get the hang of understanding the lessons your professor would teach you in class and you were excited when you found yourself catching on to the information Mark was giving you. 

Unfortunately, your feelings for Mark only grew more and more with each and every session. You’d catch yourself stealing glances at him every so often and daydream about what it would be like to kiss his cute little heart shaped lips, to run your fingers through his curly locks, to hold his pretty hands and to be held by him. But it was dangerous to think like that. No matter how kind he was to you, he never showed any interest in you and you had to accept that all you’d ever be to him was just another person he’d tutor. 

There were a couple of times Mark attended class with you in order for him to find out why you were having such a hard time learning and the thought of him taking time out of his day just to sit in on your marine biology class made your heart flutter like a school girl. He only wants to see how the professor is teaching so that he can make the lessons simpler for you stop giving yourself false hope y/n. 

Finally, the day of your final exam came and you were extremely nervous to say the least. No matter how long you’ve been preparing for this, all the sleepless nights you’d stay up studying on top of your tutoring sessions with Mark; you didn’t think you were ready to take it. 

As you made your way in to the lecture hall, you could feel your palms getting sweaty as your heart rate began to increase and it wasn’t a good feeling. Right before class could start, you felt a vibration coming from your bag and when you checked your phone to see the notification, a huge smile rose on your face.

Mark🤓: Good luck today y/n. You’ll do great! I believe in you. Let’s meet up once you’re done with the exam. You got this!👍🏻

Most people would consider it such a simple text of encouragement, but to you it meant the world. He had faith in you and with that knowledge alone, a burst of confidence ran through your veins and as soon as your professor passed out the exams, you began answering every single question without hesitation. It felt as if Mark was right next to you, cheering you on and it was such an amazing feeling. 

Everything he’s been teaching you for the last two months just kept flowing through your mind and before you knew it, you were finished. You took a few moments to go over your test to make sure you answered them to the best of your knowledge and once you were done you handed in your exam and dialed Mark’s number. 

“Hey y/n! How did it go?” You hummed cheerfully as you made your way down the hall. 

“I’d like to think it went well, but we won’t know until next week. Where are you? I wanna treat you to lunch as a small thank you for all your help.” 

Although you couldn’t see him, you knew he was probably smirking at the idea of food. A lot of your sessions were held at the cafeteria and the coffee shop on campus because Mark loved to eat. His love for food was adorable, and so was he. Only then did it hit you that you would no longer be needed Mark’s help and you felt your chest getting heavy when you realized you wouldn’t get to see him anymore. Other than Youngjae, Mark was one of the only people who genuinely made you happy. In fact, he was one of your only sources of happiness and you wanted to be with him as much as you could. 

“I’m in the library, but I‘ll make my way to you so you don’t have to walk so far. Are you still in the science building?” You absentmindedly smiled knowing he wanted to make things easier for you by meeting you half way. 

“Yeah. I’ll be sitting by the front door. See you soon.” While you were waiting, you took out your phone and texted Youngjae that you were finished with the exam. He was quick to respond and asked you if you wanted to go out and celebrate to which you let him know that you were treating Mark to lunch. Knowing how your best friend could be and how he’s been teasing you about Mark ever since the day he began tutoring you, you weren’t surprised to read the messages he sent you.

🦦: Can I tag along? Or are you finally going tell lover boy how you feel about him? Come on y/n, it’s been months. The worst he can do is tell you he doesn’t feel the same and you can go back to being strangers. The y/n I know is an extremely courageous person who will do whatever she possibly can to get what she wants and a boy is no different.

🦦: But I’ve seen the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not looking. He gets all starry eyed and shit. As if the sun shines out of your ass.

🦦: make me proud y/n 😉

It didn’t take Youngjae long to realize you had feelings for Mark. You’ve never really had a crush before, so Youngjae knew there was meaning behind the blush on your cheeks and how flustered you’d get after every session with Mark. He was also quick to notice how you were always holding your phone as if you were waiting for a text from someone. When he confronted you about it, he was shocked when you didn’t try to lie about it and he was also secretly very excited. He’s been rooting for the two of you ever since Mark introduced himself for the first time two months ago. 

If Youngjae had it his way, he would’ve went up to Mark and confessed your feelings for him a long time ago, but he was never one to get involved in your personal life if you didn’t want him to.

“Hey, ready to go?” You nodded in agreement as he grabbed your books and slung your backpack over his shoulder like he normally did. It was little gestures like this that made you feel like he had reciprocated your feelings but then again, he was a gentleman to everyone. You’ve witnessed how he’d hold doors for everyone, how he always greeted someone he knew and how he’d always lend a hand if he felt like someone was in need. It was just who he was and you couldn’t confuse his acts of kindness for romantic feelings. 

The walk to his car was quiet, but it was a peaceful kind of silence. However, once he opened your door and you both got inside, he turned on the radio and began to sing along. He did this every time the two of you would go somewhere off campus. Mark was an actual ray of sunshine and sometimes he’d even get you to sing along. 

Sometimes, you’d find yourself dozing off at the thought of holding his hand that he wasn’t using to drive and leaving a kiss on his cheek at a stoplight. A lot of the times you would day dream, it would be made up scenarios of him and what it would be like to date him. You were suddenly broken out of your thoughts when he softly tapped on your thigh to let you know that you both arrived to the restaurant. 

Lunch was amazing. He made you go over the test questions and your responses for a small portion of it before beginning many conversations with you about anything your hearts desired. Conversation flowed smoothly between the both of you as if you had been friends for years and every time he laughed at something you had said, you could feel butterflies fill up the entirety of your tummy. Mark had such a distinct laugh and for someone who looked as manly and broad as he did, you wouldn’t expect such a adorable and extremely high pitched laugh to come out of him. It was your favorite sound and you were happy knowing you were the cause of it. 

To your dismay, your time together was soon coming to an end and you were surprised to find out that you’ve been at lunch with Mark for almost three hours. People weren’t kidding when they say time flies when you’re having fun. After you finished paying, you walked back to his car and he began to drive you back to your apartment. The confession was at the tip of your tongue. Youngjae’s words filled your mind. The worst he can do is tell you he doesn’t feel the same. 

As much as you wanted to know whether or not he harbored the same feelings for you, you didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself if you found out he didn’t see you in that way. 

“Hey, everything okay?” You looked at him in curiosity and gave him a fake smile. 

“I’m fine. Just nervous about what I got on the exam but I’ll be fine. Thanks for dropping me off.” 

He playfully pinched your cheek and made his way out of the car in order to open your door for you. Sometimes you hated how much of a gentleman he was, it only made your feelings for him grow stronger. 

“Of course! Thanks again for lunch. By the way, you have nothing to worry about y/n, I’m sure you did great. Don’t forget to text me as soon as you get the results. Until then, good luck with the rest of your exams. Have a nice rest of your day.” 

As you watched him drive away, you felt your heart sink. I like you. Why was it hard so hard to say those three words? Now you’d never know how he felt about you nor did you know when the next time you’d see him is. But if he liked you, wouldn’t he have made a move on you already? 

Exactly a week later, your professor emailed you and the rest of your class that grades were posted. Your fingers hovered over your log in but a part of you was hesitant to see what grade you were given. You were sure your heart was about to jump out of your chest and you had wished Youngjae was at your side when you were to find out the results. Or even better, Mark. 

You sent him a quick text to see where he was and what he was up to and he let you know that he was at his apartment. He asked if you wanted to go over causing heat to rise upon your cheeks. You’ve never been to his apartment before, so the idea excited you and you couldn’t wait to see him again. One week away from him was torture and you didn’t know how your life was going to be now that you no longer needed his help. He gave you the directions to his apartment and you quickly got ready so you could go and give him the news. The drive to his place felt like forever and you knew it was because you were on your way to see the boy who owned your heart. 

Once you parked your car and made your way up to his apartment, you could feel your palms getting sweaty and you soon grew nauseous. You giggled when you saw his doormat; of course he’d get one with marine animals on it. After taking a moment to breathe, you softly knocked on his door and waited for him to open it. 

As soon as he opened the door and you saw that he was only wearing basketball shorts you coughed up a bit and internally screamed at yourself for doing so. You knew Mark was built, but you didn’t think he was hiding a six pack and a very defined v-line under all of those flannels and sweatshirts. 

“Hey y/n! Sorry about the lack of clothing, I’m doing a load of laundry. Can I get you something to drink or eat?” You were still so focused on how attractive Mark was and how you were alone with him in his apartment to the point where you almost forgot the reason for being there. 

“No thank you. I um, I actually came here because I got the exam results and I didn’t want to look at them by myself so I thought I’d look at them with you. I’m sorry if I interrupted you.” He shook his head in disagreement before taking a seat next to you on his couch. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’m never too busy for you and I wanted to know what you got! I’m not even the one who took the exam and I’ve been anticipating your grade the entire week. But I know it’s because I saw how much time and effort you put in studying for this exam. So let’s see what your score is.” 

He sent you a wink and you were sure you were now red as a tomato from both the gesture and his words. You took out your phone and logged in to your school account. After you pulled up your name, you immediately handed him the phone and covered your eyes. 

“You look at it, I can’t do it.” He giggled softly at your worried expression before scrolling through your phone. When you didn’t hear anything from him after a few moments, your heart began to sink. That was all until you were being lifted off of the couch and pulled in to Mark’s arms. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and spun you around. 

“Congratulations y/n! You got a 98! See, I told you there was nothing to worry about! I knew you had it in you. I’m so proud of you.” 

Right as you were about to respond, his lips were on yours. It was as if time stopped and the room began spinning. You could’ve sworn you were dreaming yet you found yourself deepening the kiss as your arms made their way around his neck. His lips tasted like a mixture of mangoes and Cheetos puffs; an odd combination but one that you were now in love with because it was unique, just like him. All too suddenly, he pulled away and placed you down while beginning to pace back and forth around his living room. 

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. That was so uncalled for I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what came over me. Please don’t tell your boyfriend—“ 

You looked at him in confusion before asking him what he was talking about. “That guy you’re always with. The one who waits for you during our tutoring sessions. Is he not your boyfriend?” It all made sense now. The reason why Mark wasn’t taking things further in your relationship was because he thought Youngjae was your boyfriend. That took a weight off of your shoulders. 

“No. That’s my best friend Youngjae. He’s been telling me to confess my feelings to you for over a month now but I was afraid you didn’t like me. I’m hoping that kiss meant that you do or else I’ll be taking my leave now.” 

You began walking towards the door but you were soon colliding with his broad chest while his hands made their way down to your waist. 

“I like you a lot y/n. More than I’d like to admit if I’m being honest. I just assumed you and Youngjae were a couple when I first saw the two of you together. I realized I was developing feelings for you around our third meeting when you went in to detail about why you want to become a nurse. Seeing how wide your eyes got in excitement as you described your love for helping others made my heart combust. You’re so adorable, you know that? Extremely beautiful too. And as I got to see how dedicated you were to your studies and your education, it made me come to terms with my feelings and I finally accepted them even if I felt like it was wrong having a crush on you while thinking you had a boyfriend.” 

He stole one more kiss from the corner of your lips and placed some hair behind your ear. “I looked forward to every single tutoring session and I don’t know if you noticed, but I would throw in some topics that had nothing to do with what I was teaching you that day just to prolong our time together. You are the most unique and interesting person I’ve ever met. You do this thing with your nose when you’re deep in concentration and the image would never leave my mind. You’re an extraordinary person y/n and it would mean a lot to me if you agreed to being my girlfriend.” 

You grinned at his confession before nodding in agreement and reconnecting your lips together. 

“I’m really glad Youngjae forced me to get tutoring.” He snickered before bringing his fingers up to your face and tracing your features. 

“And I’m really glad you suck in marine biology—ow—what? I’m just being honest babe—stop that!” He pulled you on to his lap and placed his head on your shoulder. “Since were a couple now, can I use some pickup lines on you?” You playfully rolled your eyes before sarcastically groaning. 

“Are you an octopus? Because you octopi my thoughts.” 

You hid your face in his neck from embarrassment. “What? You have to be honest y/n, that one was cute. And it’s the truth! Okay fine, how about this one, let’s cuttle—don’t look at me like that, I thought that one was pretty clever. What about whale you be mine—“ 

You brought your hand up to his lips to prevent him from talking. This boy was honestly going to be the death of you. But you couldn’t wait to see what the future held for the two of you. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute because those pick up lines are terrible.” He let out a scoff before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. 

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. Let’s go baby, we have some celebrating to do.”

[blue-lions-baby]

Operation Confession (Dimitri x Reader) [Ch. 1]

hi!! so sorry for the inactivity! i’ve been super busy preparing for college n stuff, so i didn’t really have time to write anything... but like i also didn’t want to go *another* week of not posting anything so lol

i’ve been working on this fic for almost a month now and as i was approaching the 5000 words mark, i figured it would probably be best to chop it up into more.... manageable sections ^^’ please enjoy~

spoiler-free and pre-timeskip fluff!

~*~

Oh, this was perfect.

Sylvain watched in pure amusement at the scene playing out before his very eyes. Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, future king of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, reduced to nothing more than a blushing schoolboy antsy with the love bugs and raging hormones. He weakly disguised his chuckle with a cough when he saw yet another quill snap in the blonde’s hand, most likely in reaction to that adorable pouting face you had put up. You had absolutely no idea what type of effect and the severity of said effect you had on the prince.

Which made it all the more entertaining.

You didn’t mean to-- in fact, you weren’t even aware of the raging feelings Dimitri held towards you.

But Sylvain knew.

And you could bet your ass he was gonna do everything in his power to help his longtime friend man up and confess to the girl of his dreams.

Dimitri’s cheeks, once dusted with only a faint pink, suddenly became a hodgepodge of every shade of red when he realized that was the third quill he broke in this hour alone. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, helplessly looking to his teacher for help.

“Your Highness... Have you broken another quill?” Dedue murmured beside him, concern eminent in his voice. Dimitri looked down at the large splinter running down its side and mentally banged his head against the desk.

“It appears so... I will request a replacement from the Professor.” He muttered back, silently rising to his feet and making his way to the desk up front. He was suddenly stopped on his 4-step journey when Byleth (with a crinkle in their nose and a sigh) redirected their frazzled student to a whole box of spare quills behind the blackboard. Dimitri-- very much aware that this box filled with ludicrous amounts of quills were entirely for him-- bowed deeply to the professor, picked up the feathery thing, and hurried back to his desk.

You looked up from your work to give your eyes a break from their swimming lessons and accidentally made eye contact with the returning prince. You both paused for a split second before you flashed him a heartfelt smile; a gentle warmth kissed the surface of your cheeks and you averted your eyes back to your studies.

A resounding snap reverberated throughout the quiet classroom.

“Dimitri?”

“Y-Yes, Professor?”

“See me after class.”

“Yes, Professor...”

♠ ♥ ♣ ----------------------------------------------------------- ♣ ♥ ♠

While the rest of the class huddled outside the door and watched their house leader write “I will not break another quill” line after line on the blackboard, Sylvain looped an arm around your waist and winked.

“Hey, (F/N). Mind if I steal you for a bit?”

“Um... Sure.” Wary of his skirt-chasing tendencies, you were reluctantly led away from your classmates and into a more secluded part of the monastery.

“This better not be one of your tricks again, Sylvain... I already told you, I don’t like you in that way.”

“Ouch. That hurt.” Sylvain’s lips formed into an exaggerated pout and you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Nah, this ain’t about me for once. It’s about a certain... someone.” He continued rather vaguely.

“A certain someone? Sylvain, are you sure this isn’t about you?”

“It’s really not, I swear.” He put his hands up in surrender and seeing him genuine for once, you decided to believe him.

“Well, before I continue, I just wanna know if you... y’know.” Sylvain’s eyebrows wriggled very suggestively and a teasing smirk splayed his features. Your heart thundered in your ear, already knowing where this was going.

“If I...?” You whispered, taut fingers knotting the fabric of your uniform.

“Like, like-like anyone?”

Sylvain wished with all his heart that he had some way to capture the look and flood of colors that quickly took hold of your face. He watched in silent amazement as your face shifted from a barely-there pink to strawberry red in a matter of seconds. Gotcha.

“W-Well, I mean--” You took a shaky step backwards and your jaw clenched so tightly you were certain you were gonna chip a tooth. “There is this guy... Wait, why am I telling you this?! It’s none of your business!”

You rammed past the tall male with enough force to almost knock him over as you promptly made your way back to where the rest of your classmates were.

Satisfied with the laughable drop in quality in Dimitri’s penmanship, Byleth finally let the poor male join his classmates outside. His fingers twitched in an unsightly fashion and his wrist throbbed and cricked with every motion he made. He let out a guttural groan, making small, crackling adjustments to his neck and shoulder. The only thing he had left to do today was train, but he’d probably just go ahead and retire to his bed, at least for a little while...

Past the sea of heads crowding around him, he saw a flash of (H/C) streak across his vision, followed shortly afterwards by a head of shaggy red. (F/N)...? What were you doing with Sylvain?

Crippling exhaustion transfigured into searing jealousy and his eyes narrowed at his childhood friend with cold suspicion. Sylvain could easily feel the scorned prince’s hard stare like a knife in the back.

Was he at all fazed? Not in the slightest.

In fact, thought Sylvain as he sidled right up next to you, he wanted to toy with Dimitri’s heart just a little bit more...  

“Excuse me everyone, but I must speak to Sylvain immediately.” He emphasized the last word sharply, gently pushing his way through the crowd. While he brushed shoulders with Ashe and waltzed around Ingrid, he spun around and ended up face-to-face with... Oh Goddess, his legs were turning into jelly.

“Dimitri...? Is something wrong?” You breathed, fumbling with your clammy digits.

“O-Oh!” Said male rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “Nothing, Belov-- (F/N). Please excuse me, but it is imperative that I have a little... talk, with Sylvain.”

He left you no room for response as he quickly latched onto the toothy-grinned noble and practically dragged him away on his heels.

“What seems to be the problem, Your Highness?”

“Let us discuss the issue in my quarters.”

“Your quarters? Oh ho ho.~”

“Stop it, Sylvain. ... We’re here now.”

Dimitri watched Sylvain plop on the edge of his bed, his lips upturned in a carefree fashion. Dimitri lowered himself on his uncomfortable desk chair, his hands anxiously squeezing his kneecaps.

“So what would you like to talk about, Your Highness?”

“It’s about (F/N).” Dimitri spoke resolutely. “Sylvain... I know this will sound nothing short of mad, but--”

“Let me guess. You like (F/N).”

Dimitri’s bodily organs ceased to function; every ounce of blood in his body mutated into sharp, prickling icicles that seized his heart in a snare of terror and dread.

“I-- Wait, how--?”

“Your Highness. No offense, but pretty much everyone knows how you feel about her. You’re not exactly... subtle.”

Dimitri? Not subtle? Even after the extraordinary lengths he went through to make sure you remained ignorant of his true feelings for you? His brain filed through each and every interaction he’s had with you, combing through each word and shaky glance and awkward blush exchanged between either of you. Well, sure, he’s no master of disguise, but he wasn’t that bad... right?

While Dimitri’s thoughts remained in utter chaos, Sylvain coolly continued.

“Hey, about that lil’ act earlier... I was just messin’ with you, Your Highness. (F/N)’s a serious cutie, but I’m really not after her. I swear.” Sylvain winked. “Plus, she doesn’t even like me. She actually told me she likes--”

“WHO?!” Before Sylvain even had time to process-- well, anything-- Dimitri was on his feet rattling the poor noble to and fro, completely forgetting the crippling strength his Crest bestowed him.

“Gah! Stop it! That hurts!” Sylvain cried, trying with all his might to pry Dimitri’s iron grip from his shoulders.

Coherency finally returning, Dimitri immediately unclasped his digits from Sylvain. An expression of apologetic horror shot through his eyes as he stumbled back, back, back against his desk. The chest of both men heaved violently; raspy and hasty apologies slipped out of Dimitri’s lips while pain-stricken groans and a few obscenities raced out of Sylvain’s.  

“I’m so-... I’m so sorry, Sylvain, I-- I’m so, so sorry--”

“Augh, Goddess... You’ve got quite a grip there, Your Highness...” Sylvain chuckled weakly, feeling his skin swell and bruise.

“Allow me to fetch a healer for you!”

“N-No worries... Ugh... Just, I need to talk to you.”

“Sylvain--”

“Please. Seeing you skirt about this issue is far more painful than any bruise you could give me... But I’m not gonna lie, this one comes pretty close.”

Dimitri drew in a deep breath and settled in his desk chair, its wooden legs creaking slightly from his weight. He planted his elbows firmly by his kneecaps and rested his chin on folded hands.

“Lemme ask you a question, Your Highness. Do you truly love (F/N)?”

“Yes.” Dimitri answered unfazed, but suddenly realized the gravity of his response and drooped his eyes towards the floor.

“Then tell her!”

“I... I can’t. I’m afraid I lack the confidence to waltz up to a girl and profess my feelings to her. Especially with what happened to...” Dimitri shivered at the awkwardly painful memory and continued. “Sylvain, what if she doesn’t like me in that way? Then I’d have made a fool of myself in front of everybody. But most importantly, her...”

“Well, since she didn’t tell me exactly who she liked, there’s no surefire way to know...” Sylvain acquiesced. “But I’ve got a real good feeling about this. Trust me! If there’s one thing in the world that I can help you with, it would be something like this.”

“Well, I suppose you’re right...” Dimitri pondered, sighing in defeat. “But regardless of whether she likes me or not, I am unable to simply walk up to her and tell her my feelings. That’s...”

Dimitri trailed off, dejection glossing his pastel blues.

“I don’t deserve someone like her.” He breathed out just above a whisper. Poignancy took hold of Sylvain’s heart after hearing the sincerity in Dimitri’s voice. One look at the despondent royal was enough to tell him how much he believed those words-- how much Dimitri believed that he, a beast stained by blood and vengeance, could never have a beauty as tender and loving as you.

“Hey, come on Your Highness... It’s not fair on your part to be giving yourself so little credit.”

“Sylvain, look at me.” Dimitri cupped his throbbing head in his hands and he growled. “I am a monster. I can not drag someone as pure, lovely, and beautiful as (F/N) into...”

He paused, choosing his next words carefully.

“She deserves someone else-- someone who can bring her true happiness. Someone who’s... not me.”

Sylvain gritted his teeth from the dark and pulverizing atmosphere. Dimitri was spiraling. Further, faster into the void.

“Cheer up, Your Highness!” Sylvain bubbled half-heartedly, desperately trying to reel his friend from the abyss. “You’re a great guy! Hey. Remember when we went out to cull some bandits outta that one village? And some bad guy almost got (F/N)? You managed to swoop in just before that happened! You saved her, Deems. The look of pure adoration and gratitude in her eyes after the battle... It felt good, right?”

“I... suppose.”

“Oh! And remember when (F/N) was having a hard time grasping the concept of that battle formation the other day? Who came in, and spent the rest of their afternoon tutoring her until she could explain why you needed to send the flyers in first?”

“... I did.”

“Yup! And who’s the chivalrous, hard-working leader of the Blue Lions that everyone looks up to?”

“I am.”

“Atta boy, Your Highness! See? You’re a great guy! And the fact that you’re a prince doesn’t hurt your chances either.” Sylvain’s eyebrows danced smugly.

Dimitri’s chest rose and fell in laughter; Sylvain’s eyes lit up like a star. He managed to save him-- at least for now.

“Thank you, Sylvain. I really needed that encouragement. I... I apologize for--”

“No worries, Your Highness. ... I’m just glad I was able to help.” Sylvain clasped a hand on his friend’s shoulder and squeezed reassuringly.

“Um, Sylvain...”

“Hm?”

“How do I confess to her? Properly?”

Sylvain clapped his hands together and rubbed them gleefully.

“Don’t worry, Your Highness. I’ve got a plan.”

[wreckofawriter]

Different

Pairing: Teddy Lupin x reader

Word Count: 2,652

Warnings: None.

Request: omg could u pls write me something like a teddy lupin x reader

A/n: Okkk so I dont exscatly love this story but whatever I hope you guys enjoy!

You were different. That was no secret, since the moment you walked on to Platform 9 ¾ everyone had known you were different. No one knew how they knew, they just knew. 

When you walked onto that train surrounded by terrified first years without a fear in the world, Edward Lupin fell in love with you. Of course at 11 years old he had no clue what love was, he just knew you were unique, and he liked it.

Teddy had looked for 20 minutes to find your cabin, and when he did, you merely glanced at him and asked, "What do you want?" 

When he replied explaining how he wanted to sit there you simply shrug your shoulders as he took a seat. 

The next time he and everyone else in that hall realized you were different is when they called you up to be sorted.

McGonagall yelled, "Y/n y/l/n!" And you had skipped up to the hat a sly smirk plastered on your face. You plopped yourself into the seat, still smirking and waited. 

The hat took it's time, 3 and a half minutes to be exact, to put you in a house. Your smirk grew fainter and fainter with every passing second. 

When the hat belted, "Hufflepuff!" And a chorus of cheers erupted from the black and yellow table, Teddy was terrified. The look on your face was that of pure hatred, loathing and fury. Teddy feared for his life. 

You stood up thrust the hat into McGonagall's hand and stomped to the recently cheerful and now confused table. You plop yourself down as far away from anyone as you could. 

Teddy was called up soon afterward and nervously ascended to the hat. He sat down with a bit of a smile and waited. It took a few seconds of muttering before shouting, "Hufflepuff!" 

Teddy was elated as the table erupted with cheers. When he neared the group he changed his hair to bright yellow with black stripes and the cheers grew louder. He smiled wide until his eyes landed on you. 

Your head was down, your y/h/c hair sprawled across the table. You were definitely not cheering with joy. 

Teddy had once again swallowed his fear and sat across from you. The motion caused you to look up meet his hazel eyes. 

You raised both your eyebrows and pressed your lips into a thin line. Teddy broke into a toothy smile, "I'm Teddy." He stuck out his hand.

You rolled your eyes and let your head fall back into the table. Teddy frowned and dropped his hand. He had never been more intrigued by someone in his life, what was your deal?

Now as Teddy watched you entered the potions classroom, your eyes grew brighter and the touch of a smile grazed your lips. He wished to see that smile more often, it made his heart flutter and his knees go weak. 

"Alright." Slughorn said pulling Teddy out of his daze, "Today we are studying the Draught of Living Dead potion." 

"Great, kill me so I can get out of this lesson." Teddy snickered.

"Contrary to popular belief Mr. Lupin," Slughorn glared at the boy, "The Draught of Living Dead potion does not kill you. Does anyone know what it does?"

Many hands shot in the air and Teddy looked down, embarrassed. 

"Ms. Y/l/n?"

"When someone drinks the Draught of Living Death potion, they go into a deep sleep so strong that they appear to be dead," she paused for a moment before adding "hence the name, living dead." 

Teddy scoffed, attempting to ignore the color creeping onto his face. "Wouldn't that still get me out of this lesson?"

"I suppose." Slughorn drawled. "Anyway, we are going to make some today, flip to page 245 to see the recipe and get started."

Teddy began to gather ingredients as his desk mate, Ash Winpicker, found a cauldron. 

As the two went on they had to restart the potion 3 times, not because they didn't know how to do it -in fact both boys were quite bright- but because Teddy preferred his performance as the class clown than doing work and Ash was welcome to help. 

Finally when Teddy turned his head into an Asian Dragon to "collect hair for the potion" Slughorn had had enough.

"Mr. Lupin! You are disrupting the whole class." Slughorn seethed.

"Just doing my job sir." Teddy saluted him throwing the professor a wink.

"Mr. Lupin, please switch spots with Ms. Hetler."

Teddy groaned snatching his stuff turning around to see Monica Helter taking his spot. He walked towards the front and nearly choked on his saliva when he saw his new seat.

There you were, you y/e/c glaring him down. 

"Hey y/n." He choked out.

"Lupin." You growled, lips pursed. 

Teddy sat down mentally cursing himself.

After a few seconds of silence Teddy cleared his throat. 

"Don't we have to, you know, make the potion?" Teddy asked gesturing to the cauldron.

You let out a snort, "Well you see, when you actually do work, you tend to finish the potion." 

His eyes went wide, "You're already done?" 

"Yep." You said making the 'p' pop on your lips. 

"H-how?" The young boy stuttered out.

"Well, you see it's called working," you smiled sarcastically, "you should try it some time." 

Teddy blushed, his hair flashing crimson before returning to the sapphire blue he had adopted over the past few years.

He glanced at the potion to notice the continents looked exactly as described in the book; it was a light lilac color and the consistency of water.

Teddy let his eyes fall back onto you. You had your head bowed over, your y/h/l y/h/c hanging in your face as your y/e/c eyes were glued to the glowing screen held in your hands.

Smirking, Teddy leaned over and tapped you on the shoulder, "Hey Y/n." 

"What." You snapped lifting your head to greet his hazel eyes.

"I don't think phones are allowed."  The Hufflepuff smiled raising an eyebrow. 

"And I don't think I care." You hissed back.

The boy was about to throw another snide remark when he saw Slughorn out of the corner of his eye. 

Teddy promptly snatched your phone from your hand ignoring your protests.

"Mr. Lupin, do you have a phone out in class?" Slughorn bellowed noticing the small device.

"Ummm yes professor sorry." Teddy said looking up at the teacher apologetically.

"You know that is a violation of school rules," the frustrated professor said snatching the device from his hands, "You can get this back when you see me in detention at then of this week and I will be expecting to see you every night until then." 

"Yes professor." Teddy mumbled.

"Also 15 points from Hufflepuff." 

Every Hufflepuff in the room groaned, well not every. During this whole conversation you sat there wide eyed mouth agape as you watched Teddy Lupin take the fall for you. 

When the conversation ended you stared at the boy so confused and surprised you couldn't get yourself to do anything but stare.

Teddy looked back at you blushing a bit and biting his lip.

Finally you managed to speak, "W-why?" 

"What?" Teddy asked glancing at you again.

You cleared your throat and blinked a few times. "Why did you do that?" 

"Wouldn't want to ruin your Ms. Perfect reputation would we?" Teddy mocked.

"Please no one thinks of me as 'ms. perfect'" You scoffed.

"Slughorn does" he shrugged.

You exhaled loudly and tried to forget about it. He was just, being compulsively nice for some reason. After all he was a true Hufflepuff.

For the next week you attempted to get Edward Lupin out of your head. Unfortunately the stubborn bastard refused to move. He was cemented into your brain like your frontal lobe was branded with an image of him in a hot iron. 

Questions floated in your head. Why save you from punishment and humiliation? What had you ever done except ignore and scoff at the boy to make him take a weeks worth of detention for you? You did your best to ignore such thoughts but they seemed to leak into your head like a cracked boat leaking water; it was a slow process but if not attended to, you would drown. 

You had always found Teddy to be a strange person, I mean besides the whole  metamorphmagus thing. He was always nice and kind, to almost everyone. But here was the real thing that got to you. He was always nice and kind to you. Ever since that day when he shyly walked into your train compartment and the two of you sat in silence the whole ride, the day you got placed in the one house you never thought you would be, and never wanted to be, when the black and yellow haired boy had returned and tried to be your friend once again. 

You had never done anything for him and he seemed to constantly be helping you. He would somehow always be there with candy when you were stressed studying for N.E.W.Ts even though you would just scoff at his jokes he told in attempts to relax you. He was there when you lost your quidditch game and you had felt like crying, you had felt so vulnerable you had smacked the boy in the face with your broom and ran. He was there when you got rejected by Thomas Dunston and when you were dumped by Alex Gelman. He seemed to always be there and you always brushed it off. 

For the longest time you were sure it was simply pity, but now you knew it wasn't so. Because when you looked into the boy's eyes just after he snatched the phone from your hands there was no pity in them. There was this new yet not so new glint of an emotion you couldn't quite place.

Now as you stared down at your plate of food there was Teddy again. Your eyes lifted to meet him. 

"Heres your phone." Teddy winked, leaning over the table to hand you the device.

"Thanks?" You inquired, uncertain about the wink. 

"My numbers in it, you should give me a call some time." He winked again.

You let out a breathy laugh suddenly coming to a realization, "Hold up, are you flirting with me?" 

Teddy burst out laughing, you sat there quite confused. You waited as his laughter turned to giggles and then finally tapered off. Finally he spoke, "Godric, for being so bright you are really stupid." He giggled. 

You blushed hoping he wouldn't notice the slight tinge on your cheeks.

He laughed again, " Merlin y/n, I have been flirting with since I was 11 years old."

"W-what?" 

"Yeah, I've been trying to get your attention for six years. Nice of you to finally notice." Teddy then stood up and began to walk away. 

"Wait!" You yelled standing Teddy stopped just outside of the hall and you ran to meet him. You stopped in front of him. "Why didn't you say something?" 

"I did say something!" Teddy said exasperated. 

"No you didn't!" You fought back.

"Are you kidding?! I complimented you daily. I always tried to sit next to you in classes and during meals, I always study with you even though you ignore me. I make sure that I draw attention to myself in class, just to get you to look my way, when I go to hogsmeade I never leave without acid pops even though I hate the things because I know you love them, I always sit across from you in the library because you make cute little faces at your book and homework!" Teddy bellowed his voice raising with each word. 

"Well I just thought you pitied me!" You howled, anger flowing through you.

"Pitied you?! Y/n I have been in love with you since I saw you step onto that Platform six years ago!" 

Your eyes went from glaring slits to wide with surprise. "Y-you love me?" You choked out.

"Shit." Teddy mumbled burying his face in his hands. His hair was a soft lavender now turning a midnight blue. "Look it's just…" he groaned in frustration, "You have always been different to me, the way you do everything is unique and amazing. You have always been this mystery I have been trying to figure out and..." He sighed, letting his sentence die.

You stood there eyes wide in almost a daze, how could he possibly love you, you were the Hufflepuff mistake, the only mean Hufflepuff, the girl who was put in the wrong house and he was the Hufflepuff prince, the one who belonged, the funniest one, the one who was always destined to be, it wasn't right.

"Look I'm just going to go." 

"Wait Teddy," you grabbed his shoulder then paused looking up at the boy, unsure of what to say. "I act so.. different because, well I was sure of what was going to happen." You took a step closer to his confused state. "I was sure I was going to get on that train ride to Hogwarts where I would get sorted into Slytherin and make some shitty friends who were shitty to other people then I would focus on my grades become a prefect and graduate in the top 10% of my class, just like my parents did and I wouldn't be different at all." You took another step closer, "All of that changed the second that you stepped into my carriage. I suddenly wanted to be your friend and I knew you weren't going to be a shitty one. So I silently hoped to be put in a different house so you wouldn't hate me. Then when I got sorted into one house I knew I could never fit into, everything went to shit, my parents were pissed at me when I just wanted them to be proud and I guess I sort of.. I don't know, blamed it on you." 

Now Teddy was the surprised one. "Oh." 

"Yeah oh." You shrugged. "I am really sorry for blowing you off all those years I just…" you let your voice trailed off when Teddy took another step closer to you. 

"So you don't hate me?" He asked his voice soft.

"Well no, I don't think I've ever really hated you." You whispered heart thumping as you bite your lip looking up at the hazel eyed boy. 

"Good, then I can do this." Teddy smirked.

"Do wh-" you were cut off by his lips. 

Your eyes widened in surprise then closed as you melted quickly into his kiss, moving slowly against his desperate lips. Your heart felt like it was punching out of your chest,  your knees went weak. You wrapped your hands around his neck pulling him impossibly closer as he poked his tongue between your lips. 

When you pulled away panting his hair was a hot pink to match your cheeks. 

"Woah." You whispered, eyes wide, lips swollen. 

Teddy's smile grew on his pink lips as he let out a breathy laugh, "Yeah woah." He giggled. 

You smiled biting your bottom lip missing his own.

"So you'll go to hogsmeade with me this weekend?" The Hufflepuff asked.

"Of course." You answered reaching up and bringing your fingers through his hot pink hair. "See you then."

"Great!" Teddy said smiling wider than he was sure he ever had.

You giggled turning away from the overly enthusiastic boy.

Teddy watched as you retreated from him. The second you were out of view he leapt in the air whooping and pumping his fist, little did he know you were around the corner hand tracing your own lips  as you leaned against the corridor wall smiling just as wide.

[yandere-flower]

Special Seat

Hey guys, I’m releasing a few fics about my OCs as I finish them this week since I’m getting my writing mojo back. I really want to try and release one for each boy about every day or two since you all have been so patient, and I have a few canon character fics I’m working on too. Cliff gets a last name in the because professors have those I guess.

Anyway, NSFW Cliff x Female Student!Reader

While many don’t look forward to the start of the new semester, you couldn’t help be relived. You missed contact with other human beings and you were just starting to get the hang of being a student. The classes were more challenging, sure, but that didn’t stop you from eagerly ordering all of your books for the semester. You just had to look at the list for your European History III class, but you paused at the last minute change of whose class you’re in. Now you’re in Dr. Cliff Milano’s class, the much older professor who you’ve been secretly lusting after ever since you took Intro to European Politics as a freshman.

Perhaps it was a classic case of a small town girl meeting an interesting and very different kind of man, but there was just something about Dr. Milano that thrilled you. Maybe it was the intelligent but warm way of teaching, or the fact that he was so understanding of the troubles you’ve had in your private life, and at night you do think that maybe it has to do with how his thick thighs are practically straining in his nicely fitted pants. He may dress like a professor, but you know that he takes care of his body like a temple. You know you weren’t alone in your feelings, as everyone on campus knows that if you have to take a history course, you do it with the cool and hot professor Cliff Milano, who always takes his older students out drinking at the end of the semester. You hadn’t had a class with him in over a year due to his sabbatical and him taking over American history briefly after another professors leave, but you had to admit you were nervous to have another class with him.You supposed you should be grateful, as the other class must have filled up and you were probably just wait listed or something. He probably didn’t even remember how he practically held your hand through freshmen year and helped you survive.

The first week of classes was more stressful than you imagined, between you getting lost and forgetting about pre-assignments to turn in. However, you were pleasantly surprised to find that Dr. Milano had remembered you. You practically melted when he lit up seeing you walk through his classroom door, and walked over to you and asked how you were doing. It was minutes prior to classes starting when he leaned down and asked you to stop by his office later in the week to catch up. Later, your legs were shaking as you approached his office door, and the light tapping of your knuckles caused a stir on the other side. Quickly the larger man welcomed you into his office where the two of you caught up about things, and you explained how you were in a much better position than your freshman year. He seemed so engaged and charmed by you, and you couldn’t help but feel like the prettiest girl at the ball. But the subject changed, and suddenly he was talking about taking you on as an advisee and all of these internship opportunities in museums and schools he had in mind for you. It became more...academic than you had liked. You suddenly felt like you were losing his attention, and the constant interruptions from students walking by was irking you something fierce. You couldn’t explain it, but your frustrations were growing with each passing minute. You had to excuse yourself, and abruptly asked Mr. Milano if he was free at a later time in the day, some time less busy and overwhelming for you. With his bright, toothy smile he grinned, told you to call him Cliff, and said he stays late on Thursdays.

You chastised yourself for being so rude to someone who was so kind, but being there in his office took you back to when you were at your lowest. How everything felt so overwhelming, like a tide rushing over you and consuming you. But Dr. Mil-Cliff, was always there to pull you out and wrap his arms around you. Well, metaphorically. He would always let you relax in his office, which was neatly decorated with awards and the smell of old books and his mahogany cologne that smelled like a distinguished older man. A smarter you would have scolded yourself for taking up so much of his time, and would’ve figured you were just another student of many, but you didn’t want that. You weren’t sure what you wanted when you dressed slightly provocative before your meeting with Cliff.

You didn’t bother knocking this time when entering Cliff’s office, and to say you surprised him was an understatement. It looked like he had pamphlets and listings prepared for you, as if this was any other academic meeting, but you could see his eyes follow the movement of your legs as you went to sit down, the slight tremble in his lip as your plush thighs squeezed together to prevent your skirt from riding up.

He swallowed back his surprised, and tried to take back control. “Well you look nice, finally taking part of the student life? I hope I’m not keeping you.”

You chuckled, feeling more confident than you had previously when you sat in this room. “No, I’m where I need to be.”

You let Cliff talk about his colleagues across the states, and how they would love to have a student like you join, how he’d be more than willing to write a letter of recommendation, but after a while you tuned it out. God, he’s still hot. And you’re older. Sure, he’s older to that’s how time works, but you’re an adult. And he needed to know that you didn’t want to go anywhere.

“I was actually thinking I could work with you on your research, but I don’t think I’m doing well enough in your class to join”, you pouted, hoping he would take the bait.

There was a pained expression on his face, and you could tell you had sunk him. “Well it’s only been a week but I think you’re doing fine enough to join my team, why do you think you need help?”

You leaned back and sighed heavily, letting you chest sink slowly as you looked up from the floor to meet his eyes, well, to see that his eyes had drifted slightly lower before adjusting to look at you.

“I’m just having trouble focusing in the back, I think I need a closer seat.”

His hearty chuckles caused a rumbling in his chest, and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to lay your head on his chest. “You should know by now that you can sit anywhere you like, there’s no assigned seating”. You were about to do something stupid.

“Anywhere?” you say, less of a question and more of a challenge.

You couldn’t read his face, but you did notice a glimmer of confusion at your response. He smiles to much, you can’t tell if his smug or just that sweet. But it makes your knees weak. He reiterates his point, “...of course it’s college I won’t stop you.”

You stand, puzzling him as he thinks your just abruptly leaving. He turns his chair to face the door as he notices you walking towards it, and you can tell he’s going to say bye but you have other plans. His massive thighs are spread apart and oh so inviting, and you can’t help but accept that invitation. Before he can ask why you are behind his desk, you press your knee down on his groin and lean into him, inhaling that musky mahogany scent of his.

“Woah now Ms.- I, I don’t think this a good idea” he protests, but his strong hands holding onto your waist say otherwise. Instead of listening to the older man like you normally do, you place you hands on his shoulders and use it to wrap you legs around his hips and let your clothed sex meet his. He’s gasping when you take the opportunity to shove your tongue down his throat and sloppily try and match his much more trained movements. He uses his hand to guide your hips, slowly rubbing your sex against his hardening length. He kisses just like he teaches, slow and gentle, as if you were his sole focus. Yes you could learn so much from him, but you weren’t here for a lesson, you want more. You are impatient. Taking a hand off his shoulder, you move to unzip his pants and he lets you, that hearty chuckle reverberating in your mouth as you try and keep contact with his lips. You’re shaky, but he’s more patient than you as you fumble around with the waistband before freeing his very lengthy and thick member.

His breaths became more ragged as he moves his cock to rub against the growing wet spot between your thighs, and at this he can feel your wobbling legs against his skin. A man like Cliff doesn’t let his baby suffer, shifting so one hand is gripping you tightly and the other is working to twist your wet panties to the side, the tip of his cock meeting your entrance. He lifts your chin up, and you can almost smell yourself on his fingers. He wants to meet your eyes, like he was asking you if this was alright. Of course, you thought to yourself as you sank yourself down on his lengthy member. It’s a burning feeling at first, being so full and the aching slow descend down his very stiff and veiny dick, but you can’t help but moan out in pleasure at being so full of the man you admire. The moan was a sign to the man underneath you that you were clearly enjoying this, so he put it upon himself to enhance the feeling for his precious little student. Both his hands grip tightly on your waist as he slams his hips up to be fully inside you, reveling in the shriek he illicits from your soft body. His hips rut into you, his dick probing the deepest parts of you as buries his nose in your neck to get a whiff of your natural scent. You try to match his pace, but your dear distinguished professor was an absolute animal once he was inside you, your warm walls enveloping his aching cock. He swivels his chair to face his desk again, where he swiftly stands up so his desk is roughly pressing into the curve of your back, the force of his thrusts pushing you deeper into the sharp edge as the little bit of pain makes the pleasure that much greater. You think that he snakes his arm behind your back to relieve pressure from the desk, but in reality it’s so he can use his other hand to lift you leg even higher so he can thrust himself deeper into you.

At this point, you’re a sweaty achy mess, and you find yourself overwhelmed again in his office. The pain, the pleasure, the sweat off his body mingling with yours as he erratically wrecks your body. His scent enrapturing you. It all starts to build up in your core, like the most intense version of butterflies in your stomach. It’s almost to much, as you try and slow down your hips and stretch your legs to give you some relief but in an instant it all comes crashing down as you orgasm on your professors cock. With his chest practically smothering yours you get to feel that hearty chuckle as he realizes your body has reached its limits, and a few more shallow thrusts and his melodic voice groans out as you feel a splash of warmth flood the deepest parts of you. With his arm still tenderly wrapped around your body, he pulls the both of you back on his chair as you both catch your breath, his cum seeping out of you as you lie upright on his softening cock still.

In between catching your breath you look up at him and laugh. “You know, I can’t help but wonder if you’re the once who changed which class I was in.”