#the ESSAYS i would write about twitch if i were taking her class again.

[shortscircuits]

i wonder what my old professor thinks about twitch

[awkwardauthorwrites]

The Devil Doesn't Bargain

Word Count: 4.5k

Themes: angst, very brief mention of abuse? Imelda is a piece of work in this but she means well

Warnings: Potential spoilers for HL. All characters are 18+ in their 7th year of Hogwarts. 

If anyone’s curious this song here is the one I had on repeat while writing this

Y/N twirled the quill she was holding, her work forgotten in front of her as she looked across the library to where Sebastian was sitting a few tables away. He was frowning as he looked between his textbook and the parchment he was scribbling on, deep in thought as he worked on whichever essay they had been assigned. He looked more tired than usual and Y/N couldn’t help but roam her eyes over him carefully, looking out for any other signs that everything was not okay. 

Their friendship has never quite been the same after the untimely death of Solomon Sallow in their fifth year. Despite not turning Sebastian in (the easiest decision Y/N had ever made in her life) and his reassurance that he was glad they were friends and that she had come to Hogwarts, he had begun to pull away in the beginning of their sixth year. It started slowly; from passing on visits to Hogsmeade and skipping the odd class because he wasn’t feeling well to barely acknowledging her when he walked by her in corridors, not even a nod in greeting. There was only so much she could do - so much she could take - before Y/N began to retreat as well, opting instead to spend more time with Ominis, Imelda and Poppy.

“Don’t do this.” Imelda kicked Y/N under the table gently and she reluctantly tore her gaze away from Sebastian to send a glare at the raven-haired girl. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Y/N rolled her eyes and flicked through her textbook, skimming the page for the information she needed. If she hadn’t been studiously avoiding the eyes of her friends she would have noticed the look the two girls shared followed by Ominis’ quiet sigh. 

“Don’t play stupid, it doesn’t suit you.”

“I see we’re back to the tough love route,” Ominis said, the corners of his mouth twitching up in amusement as his fingers trailed across the braille in his book. “Do you think this discussion will end in throwing objects again? I don’t like my odds of ducking to avoid Y/N’s inkpot.” He turned his head in Poppy’s direction, who laughed quietly even though she was watching Imelda and Y/N nervously.

“I would much rather we didn’t discuss this at all, actually,” Y/N couldn’t help but look over at Sebastian again, if only just to piss Imelda off, but was surprised to see him looking back. She offered him a small smile in greeting, her stomach flipping pleasantly when he smiled back. She quickly turned back to her work, her leg bouncing under the table in elation. Apart from occasionally meeting her eyes as they passed each other in between classes, that was the most interaction she and Sebastian had shared in months.

“I know that look in your eye,” Imelda pointed her quill at Y/N, her eyes narrowing. “Do I need to remind you of what happened the last time you thought he was coming back around?” Y/N stifled an annoyed sigh and bit the inside of her cheek, if only to stop herself from lashing out. She knew Imelda was right, knew she was only being so firm because she cared. “Sebastian Sallow doesn’t care about anyone other than himself.”

“He cares about Anne,” Y/N muttered petulantly. Imelda kicked her ankle again in reprimand and Y/N hissed in pain. “Fuck, stop kicking me!”

“Stop being stupid then!” Imelda leant forward, her voice lowering considerably.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re better than this. He’s ruthless, he’s a liar. He’s abusive.”

“Sebastian would never hurt me.” If looks could kill then Imelda Reyes would be ten feet under. Y/N knew what her friend was saying came from a well-meaning place, but how dare she. How dare she speak about Sebastian that way - speak about her that way. She wasn’t an idiot any more than Sebastian was the devil Imelda made him out to be.

“Again, you mean?” Imelda snapped. Y/N sucked in a sharp breath at her words, at the sudden reminder of the agony the cruciatus curse had caused. Ominis stilled at the witch’s words, his amused expression dropping as he stopped reading his book. Poppy and Imelda shared a look between them. Y/N and Ominis never told them everything that had happened in their fifth year but they had worked out more than enough.

“You don’t know anything.” Y/N leant forward to hiss the words at her friend. 

“I know you don’t want to let go.” Imelda crossed her arms and leant back in her chair, a smug expression on her face. “People talk, Y/N. Sallow’s fascination with the dark arts wasn’t exactly a secret, even before you joined the school.”

“That’s enough Imelda.” Ominis turned his head to glare at the girl, his words icy. “I thought you of all people would be above petty gossip.” His hand drifted under the table to gently squeeze Y/N’s knee, reminding her to breathe. “I may not talk to Sebastian anymore, but that doesn’t mean I’ll allow you to sit here and disparage him like this.”

“Oh? Care to tell us exactly why you both stopped talking to him after his uncle died?”

“Imelda…” Poppy had a pained expression on her face as she looked between her friends, before darting her gaze over to Sebastian, who had his head buried in a book. “You’re going too far.”

“Apparently there’s no such thing when Y/N is concerned. She’ll forgive me and come crawling back, just like she does with Sallow.”

“So what if I do?” Y/N snapped, her voice rising. Madam Scribner shushed them sharply and sent them a glare, not that Y/N could find it in herself to care as she leant across the table to growl at Imelda. “Sebastian is one of my best friends, Reyes. Present tense. I don’t care that he’s not spoken to me in months - I will always be there for those who need me. I’ll always be there if he needs me.” Y/N looked over to Sebastian as she took a steadying breath, her eyes meeting his again. He watched her carefully, his head tilted to the side as he recognised the tell-tale signs of her anger. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from him as she spoke softly, justifying it with how far away he was sitting. “You have no idea what happened to us in our fifth year, absolutely none, so don’t pretend just because you listened to some bullshit gossip that you’re omniscient. The shit we went through - what the three of us went through - was something that’s bound us together for life. You don’t experience what we did and have the ability to stop caring for the other person - not that you could ever understand that.”

Something shifted in Sebastian’s gaze as Y/N spoke about him, and a small part of her wondered if he had somehow gained the ability to read lips and knew exactly what she was saying. She swallowed heavily as the air between them changed, her heart thumping nervously in her chest. Words from their fight echoed in her mind, but they were all drowned out by every good action he had ever taken for her, every good thing he had ever said to her. Y/N wasn’t quite sure if she could ever pull away from his hypnotising stare, but it seemed Imelda had made the choice for her as she leaned across the table and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look back at them.

“You can lie to me all you want, but I was there.” Imelda held Y/N’s chin firmly as she spoke, not tight enough to hurt, but enough that she couldn’t pull away. “Every single time you came back to our dorm room crying because he hurt you, I was there. I saw what he put you through and he doesn’t care. He’s not worth it. I won’t pretend to know what happened with the three of you in fifth year but he will never change. He’s only going to hurt you over and over again and you keep letting him. The devil doesn’t settle, Y/L/N.” 

Y/N finally smacked Imelda’s hand away and broke free from her grasp, her eyes burning with humiliation and anger. Poppy looked taken aback at how forceful their friend was being, while Ominis gripped the edge of the table in frustration. He couldn’t tell exactly what was happening in front of him, but the tone of voice, followed by the sharp slap of skin, was indication enough. There was a tense silence at the table as Y/N and Imelda glared furiously at each other, neither of them willing to break the silence first. Y/N blinked back the tears of frustration that were welling in her eyes and stood up, muttering to the table that she needed another book for her essay, and ignoring Poppy as she quietly called after her. 

She had to pass by Sebastian’s table as she walked away, her shoulders tight with tension as she very obviously avoided his eye so that he couldn’t see her tears. He stretched his arms out casually as she moved past him, his hand brushing hers gently. Y/N didn’t know if it was an accident or not, but she didn’t let it stop her as she made her way towards the shelves she needed and rounded the corner, disappearing from the immediate eyesight of her friends (and yes, as rage inducing as Imelda was, Y/N still considered her one). 

Her shoulders slumped once she was hidden from view and Y/N couldn’t help but to gently press her forehead to one of the shelves to calm the mixed emotions that were running wildly through her. She was angry at Imelda, because how dare she speak to her like that - how dare she grab her like that. She was frustrated at herself, because even though Imelda’s approach was far from ideal, she was right. Y/N always got her hopes up whenever Sebastian would flash her a warm smile in passing, and it normally led to her crying or screaming in their dorm within the week because he had gone back to his usual routine of ignoring her. The final feeling (one she didn’t want to linger on for too long) was how her heart was racing wildly as the casual touch of Sebastian’s hand as she passed by him. She didn’t want to admit what the sensation was, not even to herself, and instead tried to convince herself that the fleeting graze of his skin on hers was nothing more than an accident.

“Imelda is sorry.” Poppy said softly, her quiet footsteps stopping a couple of feet away. Y/N let out a humourless laugh and wiped away a tear before she looked over her shoulder at the Hufflepuff.

“You and I both know that’s a lie. Have Ominis and Imelda sent you to corral me back?”

“No. Imelda wanted to march over and drag you back herself but I told her to leave you alone and give you a little space. Ominis agreed with me and said he knows first hand what your anger is like?” Poppy phrased the end like a question, earning a surprised chuckle from Y/N.

“I think I’ve scarred him for life after he took my coffee from me the other morning.”

“Poor choice.” Poppy laughed softly, knowing first-hand how grumpy Y/N could be in the mornings before her caffeine. The pair fell into a comfortable silence as Y/N turned to face the shelves again and pulled a book out to see if it held any information that could help with her work.

“What is it, Poppy?” 

“I don’t want to upset you any more.”

“It can’t be any worse than what Imelda said to me,” she reminds her with a sigh. After a few more seconds Poppy still hadn’t responded so Y/N closed the book and turned to face her, holding the tome to her chest as she waited. 

“I just…Imelda wasn’t all wrong,” the shorter girl shrugged and offered Y/N a sheepish smile as she looked at her in surprise. “Her delivery could have been a lot better, though.”

“That’s the understatement of the year,” Y/N muttered. 

“Look, you know I’m not the type to lecture and condescend. All I want - all we all want - is what’s best for you. I know you might think Sebastian is it but I don’t think he is.” Poppy lowered her voice considerably and peaked around the corner as she said his name, taking care he wasn’t around to eavesdrop. 

“I thought you Hufflepuff’s always saw the best in people.”

“We’re loyal to fault, and my loyalties lie with you, not him. I’ve seen you cry over him too, Y/N. I never told anyone about the fight you two had.” Y/N stilled at her friend’s words, her mind flashing back to the argument that that had happened a few months ago. After weeks of being ignored again Y/N had finally cornered Sebastian in the Undercroft, and much like a powder keg the whole thing blew up with harsh words flying back and forth between the pair. She had finally hit him with her worst fear; that he had only stuck around with her because she was a means to an end to cure Anne. Sebastian had gone silent before nodding, and turned to leave her alone in the room, his parting words of well if that’s what you think of me echoing around her long after he had gone.

“Why?”

“Why didn’t I tell anyone?” Poppy asked. “Or why do I think he isn’t what’s right for you?”

“Both.”

“For one, Imelda would probably hunt him down and actually kill him if I told her.” Poppy tilted her head to the side, a dry smile on her face. “But mostly it was because of you. If you wanted everyone to know they would - you wouldn’t have come banging on the Hufflepuff common room door past curfew asking for me.” Y/N gave her friend a rueful smile and dropped her head back on the shelf behind her to count the ceiling tiles so that she wouldn’t cry again. “As for still being mad at him…what you said was out of line, but he never fought to correct you or prove otherwise and I watched as that killed you. No one cries like that over a friendship. You both said some vile things to each other but he ripped your heart out of your chest and I don’t think I can ever forgive him for that.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do.”

“I was in the wrong for saying that to him.” Either of them could have apologised. It didn’t fall to just Sebastian. Y/N had said things to him that were just as nasty - if not worse - during their fight.

“You were,” Poppy agreed, “but that still doesn’t excuse his behaviour. You always make excuses for him. I’m not going to get mad like Imelda did but I will say I’m not surprised.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s obvious you’re in love with him.” Poppy gave her a sad smile and Y/N felt her cheeks burn as she froze, her eyes wide as she looked at her friend apprehensively.

“I never said - ”

“You didn’t have to.” Poppy reached out and squeezed Y/N’s hand gently before turning to walk away again. “I know you might think he’ll change this time, and maybe he will - I really hope he does, to be fully honest with you. But just remember one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“The devil doesn’t bargain.”

Poppy walked back to their table, leaving Y/N alone with her thoughts once again. Her heart clenched painfully in her chest and a small part of her was grateful that nobody really ventured into that corner of the library as she sank to the floor slowly. She pulled her knees up, resting her forehead against them as she tried to calm her breathing and hold back a fresh wave of tears. They were right - they were always right. Sebastian did this to her constantly; he kept pulling her in only to push her away again. The last time it had happened was around their fight, and she had been a wreck for weeks because of it. 

“Y/N.” A pair of feet shuffled to a stop in front of her, and Y/N felt herself go still. She would recognise his voice anywhere. It was ingrained on her very soul. He sighed quietly and she heard the shifting of fabric as she sat down across from her, his legs stretched out in front of him so he could tap her ankle gently with his shoe. “I know you can hear me.”

“What do you want, Sebastian?” she asked, not raising her head to look at him, even though it muffled her voice. If she looked at him all resolve would break and she would either scream at him for leaving her or turn into a blubbering mess and she didn’t particularly care for either of those reactions at that moment.

“Look at me.”

“No.” Sebastian laughed, a genuine laugh which sent shivers down her spine. Y/N slowly lifted her head but still didn’t look at him and instead opted to stare at his polished black shoes. 

“You’ve always been so stubborn.”

“I learnt from the best.”

“That Slytherin pride really did hit us both hard,” Sebastian mused. He was quiet for a few moments before he crossed his legs and scooted closer to her so that he was almost sitting on her feet. “Look at me, darling.” Y/N hated the way her body reacted to the term of endearment. She hated that her stomach flipped pleasantly, that her heart started to beat erratically, that she could feel her face burn. She finally looks up at him, meeting his warm brown eyes with a withering glare. 

“Don’t call me that.”

“Are we still pretending you don’t secretly like it when I call you darling?”

“I’ll punch you.”

“Probably,” he chuckles quietly and reaches out to brush a stray tear from the corner of her eye. “Who did this?”

“Why do you care?”

“Contrary to what you shouted at me in the Undercroft, I have and always will care about you.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.”

“So we circle back to the pitfalls of Slytherin pride?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “You could have just as easily spoken to me first.” Y/N looked away from him, turning her head so that she could see Madam Scribner standing at her desk and watching them both like a hawk. He was right. Hadn’t she just thought and said the same thing when she was speaking to Poppy? “Was it Reyes?”

“Will you curse her if it was?” Y/N couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth and she instantly grimaced. “I didn’t mean - ”

“You did and that’s okay.” Sebastian pulled his hand away with a defeated sigh. “I haven’t touched dark magic since that night in the catacombs. I know some people think otherwise, but they’re wrong.” He catches the confusion on her face as she wonders how he knows that and runs a hand through his hair. “You’re all not nearly as silent as you think you are.”

“You heard everything?”

“Including your speech about how you’ll always be there for me.”

“What about…?” she looks away, stomach churning with nerves as she thought about what Poppy had said to her. ‘It’s obvious you’re still in love with him’.

“Your conversation with Sweeting stays between the two of you. That felt private.”

“And what we were saying at the table wasn’t?”

“Not when you were looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m worth saving.” Y/N felt her heart crack in her chest at the look on his face. She slowly shifted so that she was crossing her legs instead and reached out to brush the back of his hand.

“Everyone is worth saving.” He gives her a sad smile at that, noting that she still won’t quite meet his eye as she chews on her lower lip nervously. They sit in silence for a few moments as Sebastian watches the cogs turn in her head before she lets out a quiet sigh and finally looks at him. “I’m sorry for what I said to you.”

“I’m sorry I treated you so poorly that you even thought about it in the first place.”

“I didn’t mean it. I just…I was angry and hurt and I lashed out and wanted you to feel even a fraction of the pain I was feeling. I know you were never just using me in the hopes of finding a cure for Anne. You didn’t even know about my ability to take pain away until we had been searching for a cure for months.”

“It doesn’t matter if you did mean it - I forgive you,” he murmured, taking her hand in his. He mulls over his next words carefully, a small frown on his face. “I was stupid to push you away. I thought you both would be better off without me - especially you. I led you down a dark path and never stopped to consider the consequences of doing so. I ruined your life.”

“No you didn’t,” Y/N tightened her grip on his hand so that he would meet her eye. “I’m my own person, Sebastian. I chose to follow you down that path. You always asked if I wanted to learn and I said yes. You never forced me into anything. You didn’t ruin my life.”

“What do you think will happen if anyone ever finds out what happened to Solomon?” his voice lowered considerably as he spoke. “You’re not just going to get a slap on the wrist, Y/N.”

“No one will find out, Seb. Even if they do, it was my choice. I was the one who told Ominis we shouldn’t turn you in.”

“You…why?” Sebastian’s voice cracked as he asked the question and Y/N saw tears start to well in his eyes. “Why would you risk everything for me like that?”

“Because I - ” Y/N broke off as she felt her face burn. Now wasn’t the time to accidentally tell him that she loved him. “Because I would do anything for you.”

“You said that in the present tense.”

“I did.”

“Even after all the horrible things I said to you?”

“I wasn’t exactly a saint back, Sebastian.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“You do.” Y/N leaned forward and kissed his cheek before she could process the decision. “You deserve everything, Seb. You deserve to be happy.” 

“You made me happy - you make me happy. Present tense,” he squeezes her hands gently. “I was an idiot to ever push you away.”

“Well, you won’t hear me disagree with that,” Y/N teased. Sebastian laughed quietly and she felt like a weight she didn’t even notice got lifted from her shoulders. “If you ever do this again…”

“Duly noted, no need to continue with that threat,” he chuckled. Footsteps walked in their direction - too heavy to be Poppy or Imelda and too purposeful to be any other student. The tell tale glow of Ominis’ wand lit up the stacks moment before he rounded the corner and came to a stop a few feet away from the pair. 

“Y/N? Are you still here?”

“I am.” Ominis’ wand wavered to the left slightly, a barely perceptible frown on his face as he wondered who else was present, before he exhaled. 

“Hello, Sebastian.”

“Ominis.” The pair stared at each other tensely (or at least, Sebastian stared at Ominis, whilst the latter looked slightly to his left) before Ominis turned to Y/N with a resigned expression.

“Shall I tell Imelda you’ve left? I can bring your things to the common room later.”

“She’s never going to believe it.”

“No, she won’t.” Ominis rolled his eyes and leaned against the bookshelf slightly. “She put two and two together the minute Sebastian walked in this direction, but Poppy is keeping her at bay.”

“She is?” 

“She told me to tell you if you hurt Y/N again she will set a Hungarian Horntail on you,” Ominis turned back in Sebastian’s direction as he delivered the threat. “I don’t think I need to add what I’ll do if I ever have to listen to her cry again because of you.” Y/N looked away from Sebastian as his head snapped back in her direction, a look of distress on his features at knowing just how much pain he had caused her.

“Understood.” Sebastian stood up and brushed the dust from his trousers before offering Y/N his hand. She hesitated for a few seconds but took it nonetheless and let him pull her to her feet. Sebastian didn’t let go once she was standing and instead he laced their fingers together and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, Ominis.”

“Don’t thank me yet. If it wasn’t for Poppy I would jinx you where you stand.”

“Well, thank Sweeting for me then.” There was a small grin on Sebastian’s face as he carefully tugged at Y/N’s hand, silently asking if she would go with him. She nodded before releasing his fingers so that she could pull Ominis into a tight hug. He froze, not expecting the contact, before weaving his wand-free hand around her frame and hugging her back.

“You tell me if he tries anything,” he muttered in her ear.

“Right after I hex him first.”

“That’s my girl.” Ominis released her with a chuckle and Y/N wandered back to Sebastian, who placed a hand on her lower back as he led her out of the library. They walked in silence until they reached the north exit for the castle and Sebastian let out a long breath and turned to look at her.

“I need you to know I’ll never treat you like that again. I can’t even begin to make it all up to you, but I’m willing to spend the rest of my days doing so,” he said. Y/N reached out for his hand and laced their fingers together again as she pulled him towards the gate that would lead them towards the path for Hogsmeade.

“On one condition.”

“Anything.”

“You forgive me for how I spoke to you and what I accused you of,” she came to a stop and turned to look at him. 

“Done,” he said quietly, a soft smile on his face. “I forgave you for that a long time ago, Y/L/N.” He brushed some hair behind her ear, his touch lingering on her cheek before he cleared his throat and looked away, his cheeks tinted pink. Y/N felt her stomach flip pleasantly and couldn’t help but smile shyly as they turned back towards the path. Now wasn’t the time to consider her feelings for him, or to tease him for his blush. But one day the bridges between them would be mended completely, and so she stored the information away for then.

[sereia1313]

VOICEMAIL:

For sesskag.

“A million dollars? I’d fuck him for a plate of spaghetti and a mismatched pair of socks.”

I shouldn't expect anything less than chaos from you @mrfeenysmustache but I can't even complain because this prompt is AMAZING! Also, I managed to work in a sweater vest for you 😉😉😉.

SessKag - “A million dollars? I’d fuck him for a plate of spaghetti and a mismatched pair of socks.”

“So what do you think of the new prof?” Yuka asked. Kagome could tell she was grinning even without looking up from her notebook, choosing not to answer.

Not that she needed to; Ayumi and Eri were giggling too much for her to get a word in edgewise, anyway. No one would know they were in their final year of university instead of high school, with how they never stopped gossiping about boys. 

And Professor Taisho was no boy.

She was surprised her friends were passing the class, considering how often they talked about him. She understood why. The professor was over six feet of toned muscle, clad in thin-rimmed glasses and a sweater vest, and there was a neverending conversation about how they wanted to corrupt him. 

Kagome had signed up for his class because he was the leading historian in Japanese mythology. She wanted to write children’s books, to turn real legends into stories that would capture their imagination. But she needed a degree in history first.

Looking down at her notebook, she made a face. She’d drawn him again. She retraced the line of his jaw, adding a bit of shadow behind his ears. Her friends were the ones who talked about him, but she was the one who was distracted.

It was the eyes that did it. 

Kagome had always been curious as a child, but there was something about Professor Taisho’s eyes, something about his knowledge of deities and demons that went beyond simple studying. It drew her in again and again, to the point where her hand had a mind of its own, filling her notebook with sketches of him from all angles. 

“Would it kill you to take a break from studying for five minutes?” Eri whined.

Yuka scoffed, nudging her in the ribs. “Yeah, right. You could offer her a million dollars to get naked with him, and she’d turn it down.”

Hiding her doodle, Kagome leaned back with a grin. “A million dollars? I’d fuck him for a plate of spaghetti and a mismatched pair of socks.” Their jaws fell open at her confession, squirming in their seats as she laughed. “Wasn’t that what you wanted to hear?”

A cough sounded from behind them, and Kagome whirled around, coming face to face with the subject of their discussion. His vest was lavender today, and he placed her most recent essay on the table next to her. She swallowed a groan, attempting to slam her notebook shut as her friends scrambled away in embarrassment. 

“I would advise you to spend more time on your studies, but I cannot deny your expertise in the subject matter.” 

Kagome flushed. “Thanks, professor. I kinda like your class.”

“So I have noticed.” He leaned closer, tapping her notebook. “Your notes are meticulous.” The heat increased as she realized she hadn’t shut it fully, landing on a sketch of him half turned away from the board, coiffed hair covering one eye.

“It helps me focus,” she said lamely. She’d never pass his course now. He’d probably report her for harassment.

He turned the book around, inspecting the lines of her drawing, and Kagome swallowed thickly, able to smell his cologne at this proximity. Something flashed in his eyes, the edge of his lips twitching. “You will likely find a better angle during my office hours,” he said, tone smug.

Kagome gaped, certain she’d misheard him. “What?” 

The twitch turned into a smirk. “I am not a fan of spaghetti, though, so you will have to find another type of cuisine to entice me.”

Her mouth snapped shut, the heat in her face returning for a different reason, and he closed her notebook, then tapped the 100 on the front of her essay. “Keep up the good work, Higurashi.” He continued on his way, handing out the rest of the assignments, but he didn’t linger with anyone else, and she was left wondering if she’d imagined the entire thing.

As he made his way to the front of the room, he caught her eye again, flecks of gold shining through hazel, and he tilted his head to match the drawing he’d been looking at.

Apparently, Professor Taisho was not only tempting but a tease, and Kagome wasn’t sure she would survive the semester.

“So what do you think of the new prof?” Yuka asked. Kagome could tell she was grinning even without looking up from her notebook, choosing not to answer.

Not that she needed to; Ayumi and Eri were giggling too much for her to get a word in edgewise, anyway. No one would know they were in their final year of university instead of high school, with how they never stopped gossiping about boys. 

And Professor Taisho was no boy.

She was surprised her friends were passing the class, considering how often they talked about him. She understood why. The professor was over six feet of toned muscle, clad in thin-rimmed glasses and a sweater vest, and there was a neverending conversation about how they wanted to corrupt him. 

Kagome had signed up for his class because he was the leading historian in Japanese mythology. She wanted to write children’s books, to turn real legends into stories that would capture their imagination. But she needed a degree in history first.

Looking down at her notebook, she made a face. She’d drawn him again. She retraced the line of his jaw, adding a bit of shadow behind his ears. Her friends were the ones who talked about him, but she was the one who was distracted.

It was the eyes that did it. 

Kagome had always been curious as a child, but there was something about Professor Taisho’s eyes, something about his knowledge of deities and demons that went beyond simple studying. It drew her in again and again, to the point where her hand had a mind of its own, filling her notebook with sketches of him from all angles. 

“Would it kill you to take a break from studying for five minutes?” Eri whined.

Yuka scoffed, nudging her in the ribs. “Yeah, right. You could offer her a million dollars to get naked with him, and she’d turn it down.”

Hiding her doodle, Kagome leaned back with a grin. “A million dollars? I’d fuck him for a plate of spaghetti and a mismatched pair of socks.” Their jaws fell open at her confession, squirming in their seats as she laughed. “Wasn’t that what you wanted to hear?”

A cough sounded from behind them, and Kagome whirled around, coming face to face with the subject of their discussion. His vest was lavender today, and he placed her most recent essay on the table next to her. She swallowed a groan, attempting to slam her notebook shut as her friends scrambled away in embarrassment. 

“I would advise you to spend more time on your studies, but I cannot deny your expertise in the subject matter.” 

Kagome flushed. “Thanks, professor. I kinda like your class.”

“So I have noticed.” He leaned closer, tapping her notebook. “Your notes are meticulous.” The heat increased as she realized she hadn’t shut it fully, landing on a sketch of him half turned away from the board, coiffed hair covering one eye.

“It helps me focus,” she said lamely. She’d never pass his course now. He’d probably report her for harassment.

He turned the book around, inspecting the lines of her drawing, and Kagome swallowed thickly, able to smell his cologne at this proximity. Something flashed in his eyes, the edge of his lips twitching. “You will likely find a better angle during my office hours,” he said, tone smug.

Kagome gaped, certain she’d misheard him. “What?” 

The twitch turned into a smirk. “I am not a fan of spaghetti, though, so you will have to find another type of cuisine to entice me.”

Her mouth snapped shut, the heat in her face returning for a different reason, and he closed her notebook, then tapped the 100 on the front of her essay. “Keep up the good work, Higurashi.” He continued on his way, handing out the rest of the assignments, but he didn’t linger with anyone else, and she was left wondering if she’d imagined the entire thing.

As he made his way to the front of the room, he caught her eye again, flecks of gold shining through hazel, and he tilted his head to match the drawing he’d been looking at.

Apparently, Professor Taisho was not only tempting but a tease, and Kagome wasn’t sure she would survive the semester.

“So what do you think of the new prof?” Yuka asked. Kagome could tell she was grinning even without looking up from her notebook, choosing not to answer.

Not that she needed to; Ayumi and Eri were giggling too much for her to get a word in edgewise, anyway. No one would know they were in their final year of university instead of high school, with how they never stopped gossiping about boys. 

And Professor Taisho was no boy.

She was surprised her friends were passing the class, considering how often they talked about him. She understood why. The professor was over six feet of toned muscle, clad in thin-rimmed glasses and a sweater vest, and there was a neverending conversation about how they wanted to corrupt him. 

Kagome had signed up for his class because he was the leading historian in Japanese mythology. She wanted to write children’s books, to turn real legends into stories that would capture their imagination. But she needed a degree in history first.

Looking down at her notebook, she made a face. She’d drawn him again. She retraced the line of his jaw, adding a bit of shadow behind his ears. Her friends were the ones who talked about him, but she was the one who was distracted.

It was the eyes that did it. 

Kagome had always been curious as a child, but there was something about Professor Taisho’s eyes, something about his knowledge of deities and demons that went beyond simple studying. It drew her in again and again, to the point where her hand had a mind of its own, filling her notebook with sketches of him from all angles. 

“Would it kill you to take a break from studying for five minutes?” Eri whined.

Yuka scoffed, nudging her in the ribs. “Yeah, right. You could offer her a million dollars to get naked with him, and she’d turn it down.”

Hiding her doodle, Kagome leaned back with a grin. “A million dollars? I’d fuck him for a plate of spaghetti and a mismatched pair of socks.” Their jaws fell open at her confession, squirming in their seats as she laughed. “Wasn’t that what you wanted to hear?”

A cough sounded from behind them, and Kagome whirled around, coming face to face with the subject of their discussion. His vest was lavender today, and he placed her most recent essay on the table next to her. She swallowed a groan, attempting to slam her notebook shut as her friends scrambled away in embarrassment. 

“I would advise you to spend more time on your studies, but I cannot deny your expertise in the subject matter.” 

Kagome flushed. “Thanks, professor. I kinda like your class.”

“So I have noticed.” He leaned closer, tapping her notebook. “Your notes are meticulous.” The heat increased as she realized she hadn’t shut it fully, landing on a sketch of him half turned away from the board, coiffed hair covering one eye.

“It helps me focus,” she said lamely. She’d never pass his course now. He’d probably report her for harassment.

He turned the book around, inspecting the lines of her drawing, and Kagome swallowed thickly, able to smell his cologne at this proximity. Something flashed in his eyes, the edge of his lips twitching. “You will likely find a better angle during my office hours,” he said, tone smug.

Kagome gaped, certain she’d misheard him. “What?” 

The twitch turned into a smirk. “I am not a fan of spaghetti, though, so you will have to find another type of cuisine to entice me.”

Her mouth snapped shut, the heat in her face returning for a different reason, and he closed her notebook, then tapped the 100 on the front of her essay. “Keep up the good work, Higurashi.” He continued on his way, handing out the rest of the assignments, but he didn’t linger with anyone else, and she was left wondering if she’d imagined the entire thing.

As he made his way to the front of the room, he caught her eye again, flecks of gold shining through hazel, and he tilted his head to match the drawing he’d been looking at.

Apparently, Professor Taisho was not only tempting but a tease, and Kagome wasn’t sure she would survive the semester.

Thanks for the prompt!

Part of my dialogue/drabble ask Voicemail. Asks are still open!

[solemnly-mischievous]

rivalry (d.m. x reader)

You and Draco Malfoy have a rocky relationship, at best. It'd be better to describe it as a rivalry. But all it takes is a bit of fire from your end to finally make him snap.

(AKA: I just really wanted to write an enemies-to-lovers trope for my first fic.)

A/N: Hi! First fic. Hope you like it. :)

Contains: Degradation, slight edging, d/s elements, slight dub-con (but not really; full consent is clearly given), light humiliation

Word count: 3.9K

-----

Normally, Defense Against the Dark Arts would be your favorite class. The spells you learn are fun and useful; Professor Lupin is always a plus, and most importantly, you’re good at the subject—so bloody good, you’ve bested even Hermione and Harry multiple times.

But lately, you’ve been finding yourself dreading the lessons. So much, in fact, that you were half-considering asking Hermione to hex you just to get out of your afternoon class.

Why? It’s a pretty easy answer when you got down to it.

Draco Malfoy.

You’d had an ongoing rivalry with the git since third grade. He’s been terrorizing you and your friends, mostly because of Harry, but along the way the two of you had begun building a personal vendetta.

(He probably hasn’t quite yet forgiven you for hexing him so badly he’d had to stay in the Infirmary for weeks, and you certainly haven’t forgiven him for causing your friends so much grief over the years.)

This year, you’d thought you could try your best to avoid him, with your upcoming N.E.W.T.s and all. But DADA had other plans.

Professor Lupin had begun experimenting with mixing up partners for class—it was, after all, a very hands-on class—and had apparently decided that cross-house interaction would build bonds and skill. His exact words were, “If they’re your friend, you’re gonna go easier on them. In the real world, you never know who you’re fighting with—or against.”

So he’d randomized the name list. You, being Gryffindor, knew immediately you wouldn’t be with any of your closest friends—but you hoped that perhaps you’d be paired with Cedric, or Luna, or anyone but—

“Your partner is Draco Malfoy,” Professor Lupin informed you when he got to your name, and you immediately make to protest.

“Her?” a voice came just as you complained “Not him”, and the students parted to reveal Draco himself, glaring daggers at you and Lupin.

“Yes, her,” Lupin replied, unruffled. “Now, pair up, everyone. We’re practicing Stunning today.”

That day, you’d fucking limped out of the classroom. Not to say Draco had gotten it easier—he could barely stand after you Disarmed, Stunned, and hit him with a nasty stinger hex just for the sake of it. (You’d gotten detention, but it was worth it.)

Today’s your second class with Malfoy, and you’ve never wanted more to be able to commit violent actions in your life.

“Please,” you whisper to Hermione as your group enter the DADA classroom. “Just one hex. I won’t even go to Pomfrey. No witnesses. You could just Petrify me, if that’s more to your liking.”

She sighs. “I’m not going to Petrify you.”

“’Mione,” you say, scandalized. “I thought we were friends.”

“Pair up, everyone,” Lupin calls out. Your friends shuffle away and you close your eyes, already getting a headache from the thought of—

“Well, well.” That fucking smarmy voice. “If it isn’t Potter’s little friend.”

“If it isn’t Daddy’s boy,” you snap, opening your eyes and glaring at Malfoy, who already has his wand out. “Bugger off, Malfoy.”

“Afraid I can’t do that.” Draco’s eyes narrow. Clearly, he’s as displeased with the situation as you are. “What are we doing today, then? Can’t wait to knock you down a few notches. Star of the class, my—”

“Patronuses!” Professor Lupin announces from across the room, and your heart soars—Patronuses, you could do that. Harry, months earlier, had taught you how to perfect a corporeal form in exchange for tips on his Astronomy essay. He isn’t here today—maybe you could be the only one in the class to do it.

Lupin continues, “Yes, the Patronus—an essential in the world of Defense magic. We’ll be starting with just the simple basics of it. A strong flick of the wand, and the words ‘Expecto Patronum!’. Say it with me, everyone.”

You chorus the words obediently along with the class, Malfoy’s snort of derision not going unnoticed.

“Good. Good, good, now—the key to the Patronus is to think of a happy memory. It has to be strong. Remember, Dementors feed on misery—it’s the only way to keep them away. Now, go practice. I’ll be walking around to see if there’s any problems.”

“Expecto Patronom,” Malfoy repeats in a mocking voice once the classroom starts filling with the chants of fellow students. “Doesn’t Potter know how to do that one? Heard he can do a deer. Pretty weak animal if you ask me—”

“A stag,” you correct. “And it’s Patronum, not Patronom.”

He glares at you again. “Think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

“Certainly smarter than you are.” You glance at him. “Though that’s not saying much, is it?”

You give Fred Weasley, who’d circled around to hear the conversation, a not-discreet fist-bump.

“Alright then.” Malfoy spits out your last name, trying to provoke you. “Let’s see you do it.”

“You try,” you suggest, hiding your smirk. “Unless you’re too scared.”

Draco grits his teeth. Unwilling to back down from a challenge, he brandishes his wand. “Expecto Patronum!”

A thin, wispy light appears at the end of his wand—weak, but clearly visible. Classmates around you murmur as they notice it, and Professor Lupin beams as he sees Draco’s doing. “Very good, Draco! A fantastic start.”

Draco flicks his wand smugly and the Patronus charm dissipates. He smirks, shooting you an expectant look.

You take out your wand, feeling its familiar grip, and you close your eyes. You recall the memory of a weekend in Hogsmeade with your friends, drinking Butterbeer as you stroll through the snowy village, pointing out the shops and people. Unconsciously, you smile.

“Expecto Patronum!”

Light blazes so bright you can see it under closed eyes, and you open them to find a glowing golden retriever prancing out the end of your wand. It bounds around in the air joyfully, leaving a trail of light where it leaps, and circles the classroom, eventually coming back to you and wagging its tail.

Professor Lupin is grinning, utterly delighted as he takes in your Patronus. Calling your name, he exclaims, “That is phenomenal—you’ve learned fast. Very impressive job!”

You smile back, and your Patronus glows lighter in response. You quickly call it off, the light being a bit too much, and the rest of the class passes by in a haze of awed murmurs and classmates asking your advice on their spellwork. You become so preoccupied, you don’t even notice Draco’s unrelenting stare on your back.

The class ends fast, the bell tolling to signify the start of what would be a study period for you. As students trail out of the classroom, chattering happily, Professor Lupin calls you over.

“Listen, I want you to know that what you did today was truly impressive,” he says, seriously. “I assume Harry laid out the groundwork, yes?”

You nod. He smiles. “You and Harry both are very accomplished students, then. But truly—I doubt many Aurors could’ve managed what you did today.”

“Thank you, Professor.” Your words are sincere.

“My pleasure.” Professor Lupin shoots you an apologetic look. “Now, I’m terribly sorry, but I have off-grounds business to attend to—would you mind setting the classroom to rights? I’m afraid I had to push the desks and chairs back for our class, but I don’t have time to put them back. I’ll write you a note, if you—”

“Oh, no, Professor, don’t worry, it’s a study period. I’d be glad to help.”

“Thank you,” he says, relieved, already heading out the door. “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow, then. I’ll bring chocolate to compensate!”

“Goodbye, Professor!” you call, and he echoes it, and then he’s gone. You look around the classroom, seeing all the desks in the back, and you crack your knuckles. Time to get to work.

“Well. Quite the teacher’s pet, aren’t we?”

Merlin’s fucking beard.

“Bloody hell, Malfoy,” you mutter, turning around to find him leaning against the classroom doorframe. His blond hair glints silver in the sunlight, and his entire outline—his uniform, his stance, his dark gaze—is just… honestly, unfairly attractive.

So maybe your first impression of Draco Malfoy, years ago, wasn’t that he was a self-entitled git. Maybe, just maybe, you’d thought he was the prettiest boy you’d ever seen.

And maybe that feeling never went away.

Not that you’d let him know that.

“What are you doing here?”

“Study period.” He starts walking towards you, shutting the door behind him. “Couldn’t help but be curious as to what Lupin wanted with you.”

“What’s it to you?” you snap. Malfoy doesn’t reply.

“Why do you insist on being so difficult?” he asks instead, and you blink.

“Me?” you splutter. “Difficult? Fat lot of sense that makes, with you fucking insulting me at every move I make—”

“As I recall, our first interaction was you hexing me in third-year.” Malfoy sounds amused.

“You pushed Harry into the lake,” you snap at him. “You bloody well deserved it.”

Draco laughs. “Good times.”

“Malfoy, what the bloody hell are you doing here?”

“You’ve got quite a mouth.”

“My mouth is also capable of jinxing you three ways to Friday, so I suggest you leave me alone, yeah?” Your fingers twitch towards your wand in preparation, and he only looks on with derision.

“I’m just frightened,” Malfoy sneers. You barely notice him slipping off his rings, pocketing them. “Potter taught you that Patronus charm, didn’t he?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Nothin’. Just wondering what else he taught you.” A vengeful mood seems to have taken Draco. “You seem to hang out with him an awful lot.”

“It’s called having friends,” you snap right back. He looks as though he’s about to retort, but you push on. “Unfamiliar with the concept? Wouldn’t be surprised. Crabbe and Goyle don’t seem like the best conversationalists, are they? Just a couple of goons. Wonder why you don’t have better friends. Friends you can actually talk to who operate with more than one braincell.”

“Shut—”

“Maybe it’s because no one wants to be near you,” you continue, years of pent up frustration spilling out in a vitriolic spiel. “Because you’re a miserable bastard who doesn’t know how to be happy, aren’t you? You drive everyone away and then you go after more because you’re lonely and sad and fucking pathetic—”

“Shut up,” Malfoy repeats with a vehemence.

“—and it’s too fucking late to repair the damage you’ve done—”

“Shut up,” Malfoy snarls, and you stare into his narrowed eyes.

“Fucking make me,” you snap back, and he lunges.

You’re pinned against the wall of the classroom, Malfoy’s wand to your throat and a hand fisting your robes to render you immobile. Draco flicks his wand, ever-so-slightly, and you hear the classroom door lock with a wordless spell.

“Malfoy,” you whisper, but he cuts you off.

“Shut the fuck up or I swear you’ll bloody regret it,” he hisses.

“Draco,” you begin, and he curses.

“Fuck it.”

Gripping your robes, he leans in and kisses you.

It’s rough and demanding and you think he’s trying to hurt you, with how much his teeth scrape against your bottom lip and bite down gently, but you’re not pulling away, he’s not pulling away, and you find yourself leaning into the kiss, arching up to meet him—

He breaks away and looks at you, smirking.

“If I’d known that’s what it would take for you to shut your bloody mouth, I’d have done it years ago.”

“Let me go, Malfoy,” you say shakily, but even as he loosens his grip slightly, you show no sign of moving.

“If you’d wanted to leave you’d have Stunned me long ago,” he states, truthfully. Your wand is fully in reach. You know how to do wordless spells. And yet you let him kiss you.

“Shut up,” you grumble, still not moving.

“I think, perhaps,” Draco murmurs, glancing down at your body, “you’re enjoying this.”

“No,” you argue, and his wand digs into your neck—not enough to hurt but enough to register.

“Shh,” Draco hushes, almost condescendingly. “Be quiet, now. That’s a good girl.”

Involuntarily, you shudder at his words. They made your legs weak, and you fight off the urge to audibly whimper—what the hell’s gotten into you?

Maybe he won’t notice. Maybe he hasn’t noticed.

Of fucking course he notices.

“Oh?” The shit-eating smirk on his face is enough to make you glare absolute daggers at him. “Don’t give me that. You shivered. You liked it.”

“Shut up,” you say again, with no real strength.

“Don’t you want to be my good girl, sweetheart?” he teases cruelly, and you have to close your eyes to fight off the blush. It doesn’t work, and your face grows hot with embarrassment and arousal.

“Dear me,” Draco says mockingly. “What happened to the spitfire from minutes ago, hm? Still feeling like saying those words to me? Still feeling like being bad?”

Inadvertently, you shake your head.

“Who’s pathetic now?” he mocks, grinning, letting his wand trail a cold path down your neck, over your collarbone, until it rests on the top button of your uniform. “May I?”

The question sounds mocking, but he meets your gaze and you know he’s honestly asking for permission. And you give it to him, nodding, even as your blush deepens. Draco undoes your buttons, one by one, with tiny flicks of his wand, until your shirt is fully unbuttoned and you’re exposed to his gaze.

Draco shoves his wand into his belt and pushes your bra out of the way with an almost laughable urgency, getting a full, appreciative look at your breasts. “So fucking pretty,” he murmurs. “Shame they belong to such a fucking headache, hm?”

You grumble some sort of an insult, and Draco pinches a nipple, which shuts you up effectively. “That’s what I thought.”

His hands trail down to your skirt, and instead of undoing the button he leans down and scoops the fabric up. “Here, be good and useful and hold this for me.”

The indifferent praise and the degradation combined has you obeying immediately, hoisting your skirt up and baring yourself to him, which only adds to an eddying swirl of shame and arousal pooling in your gut. Draco looks at you, stares, really, and it’s with a predatory grin that he reaches over to caress you through your panties.

“Soaked,” he observes, sounding both amused and satisfied. “You always get off this much to being treated like a right slut, then?”

“Draco,” you whine, bucking your hips up into his almost phantom touch. “Come on.”

“Is that how we ask nicely?” Oh, this bloody git. You’ll never be able to look at him again—he’s going to be so fucking smug around you.

When you don’t answer, he withdraws his touch completely, and you make a sound of protest. “No, no, please.”

“Go on.”

“Please touch me,” you try, but it’s hard to focus when you’re so goddamn wet you’re soaking through your panties.

“Not quite,” Draco muses. He’s palming himself through his trousers, and the sight turns you on impossibly more. “Come on, then—convince me.”

“Draco, please touch me,” you beg. One of your hands drift down to your panties but he slaps it away immediately, shooting you a warning look. “Please!”

“Touch you where?” He wants you to say it.

“Touch my cunt, please, Draco, fuck, I’m so wet it hurts,” you beg, and it’s true—you’re aching with arousal, and if he doesn’t touch you within the next few seconds you think you really just might combust. “Please, please touch me, I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever you want, just touch me.”

“If only the school could see you now,” he sneers, but even he seems to break his self-control and he tugs your panties down harshly, all but ripping them off. “Baring yourself to me and begging to be touched like a whore.”

“I’m not—oh,” you gasp, his fingers pressing into your cunt immediately and his thumb working on your clit, sending waves of pleasure so potent you almost double over. His fingers are long and thin, which is why he can press two in without preamble, and the stretch is barely noticeable.

“You’re not what? A whore?” Draco laughs. “Please. Look at yourself.”

“’m not,” you insist, but you clench around his fingers at his words and he raises an eyebrow.

“I think you’re lying.” He presses a third finger in and you whine, little sounds of pleasure escaping your lips as he works you open. “Quieter, now, or I’ll have to gag you.”

You bite your lip, and Draco thumbs your clit as a reward and incentive. “Now, tell me what you are. Be truthful, or I won’t fuck you. I’ll leave, leave you here with your shirt hanging open and your skirt up, the doors wide open. Maybe the next bloke who stumbles in might help you.”

Your eyes widen—he wouldn’t. But his gaze is dead serious. “Say it.”

“I’m a whore,” you breathe, and he thrusts his fingers into you, hitting that right spot. “Draco!”

“Say it louder,” he orders, angling his fingers and curling them.

“I’m a whore,” you moan out, bucking your hips upwards—you’re close, you’re so close. “Draco, I—”

He stops moving, and his other hand pinches your clit harshly. “No.”

You let out a gasp of shock and hurt, reeling from the denial and pleasure. “But—”

“You’re not fucking coming until I say so,” Draco hisses, undoing his belt and pushing his trousers down. “And I’m not saying so until I properly fuck you into a bloody wreck.”

His cock is already hard, and he positions himself right at your entrance. You can feel him, his tip pressed against your wetness, but not pushing in. “Draco—”

“I think,” he muses, and you want to scream, “one day I’ll drag you into a broom closet. Fuck your throat so hard you won’t be able to talk for the day. You’ll look pretty, don’t you think?”

“Please—”

“Or I’ll bring you back to my dorm, so I can fuck you until you’re screaming yourself hoarse,” Draco says thoughtfully. “Your dorm works. So long as I can ruin you.”

“Malfoy—”

“Because it’s just so—” and he pushes into you in one swift movement, fucking into you immediately with a fast and rough rhythm, “—fucking nice to see you being a slut for me.”

“Fuck!” You grind your hips along with his rhythm, feeling the tightness of your cunt around his cock, and you clench as he hits your sweet spot with the right angle, almost shaking with the pleasure that it gives you.

Draco groans your name, fucking you brutally as he chases his own release, already pent-up from the teasing and the sight of your wrecked state. “’m gonna come on your tits, would you like that? Get it all fucking messy, maybe get some into your mouth, get you fucking ruined?”

“Please, please, fuck, please let me come,” you plead him, feeling your impending orgasm barrel towards you—you couldn’t last, you can’t fucking last—

“Fucking hold it,” Draco snaps. “Hold it like a good fucking girl, you understand?”

You let out a mournful sound, but you nod—yes, I’ll be good, I’ll be good, please—

“Salazar, I’m fucking close,” Malfoy breathes into your ear, his voice rough and strained. “You feel so good, love, so bloody tight.”

“Please,” you whimper, not even sure what you’re pleading for at this point. Draco exhales shakily and curses, pulling out and pushing you to your knees with such a force that you drop down, your skirt being the only padding.

“Wh—?” you try to ask, but Draco is already pumping his cock and then he’s coming all over your face, some of it dripping down to paint your breasts as he’d promised. Draco leans down to gather some release on a finger and pushes it into your mouth, eyes darkening as you suck and swallow around it.

“Good girl,” he praises, and you almost come right there.

“Draco, please,” you beg, still on your knees and still absolutely fucking desperate for release that he’s been denying you for the past half hour. “Please let me—”

“Alright, spread your legs, c’mon,” Draco guides, and you obey and then he’s there, thumb rubbing steady circles around your clit and two fingers pushing inside you once more. You whine and grind into his fingers, his touch, hips following his movement as he pushes you closer—closer—

“Fuck!” you sob as he senses your impending orgasm and stills his hand. “No—no, why?”

You sound like a petulant child and Draco laughs at you, and it’s an unfair move and a mean sound but it somehow turns you on even more. “I’m just messing, sweetheart.”

Fuck you, you badly want to say, but somehow you feel like that won’t get you what you want.

Draco starts moving again, his fingers gaining speed, and the sound of them pumping in and out of your soaked cunt sounds delightfully dirty. You’re quickly pushed to the edge again, and amidst your pleasure you eye Draco distrustfully.

“Please,” you whisper, and he smirks at you.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

And he thumbs your clit and you’re coming, gasping with the pleasure and shaking as he eases you through it. His fingers don’t stop moving, even after your orgasm has faded, and you squirm in discomfort as he overstimulates you.

“Stop—please—”

“Promise me you won’t be a bloody pain again,” Draco levels at you, and you want to glare back but his fingers curl inside of you and you yelp with pleasure and pain. “Promise me, or I’ll keep going.”

“I—I won’t be a pain,” you mumble, trying to squeeze your thighs together to get rid of his touch, but he perseveres, flicking your clit mercilessly.

“Say you’ll be good.”

“I’ll be good,” you manage, so close to sobbing from the frustration. “Please, Draco, I’ll be good, be good for you, please stop.”

He relents and you feel him draw his hand back. You close your eyes and you hear him tug his trousers back on, buckling his belt. You feel strangely empty without him—without his fingers, his cock, his touch.

Draco produces a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes the sweat, drool, and cum off your face, helping you button your shirt back up as well. “You alright?”

“Never better,” you reply, opening your eyes to see him staring at you in concern, all traces of the cruel tease earlier gone. Outside, the sun is setting, casting orange hues into the classroom, and you suddenly remember. “I—oh, bloody hell, I have to arrange the desks for Lupin—”

“I’ll do it. Stay here.”

Draco stands up and takes out his wand, flicking it twice in quick succession. A wordless spell. As you watch, the desks and chairs slide back to where they used to be, neatly arranging themselves in rows.

You’re impressed as he comes back. “What spell is—hey!”

He’s flicked his wand once more and torn your panties clean off your legs.

“Draco—what in Merlin—”

“A souvenir.” Malfoy smirks, stuffing your soaked panties into the pocket of his trousers. “And payment for the desks.”

“You’re a bloody prick,” you say, leaning your head back against the wall.

“Careful now, love. Remember what you promised.” Draco’s tone is playful, but warning. “I’m a man of my word, so you should choose yours carefully. Next time I won’t be as gentle.”

Caught off-guard, you can only nod obediently, which seems to please him. But you can’t promise you won’t slip back into old habits the very next day. Whatever the case, one thing was clear—there would almost certainly be a next time.

------

Requests & asks are open! Here is the guide on requests, if you'd like to check that out first. Hope you enjoyed!

[sleepysnk]

i decided to write some angsty fluff for you guys because i just really wanted to get this idea off my chest. i hope you all enjoy! ♡

He Missed Out

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader

Warnings: some angst, swearing

"Still no response?"

(Y/N) sat there on Eren's bed staring at her phone. She was waiting for a reply from Jean, the guy she liked. He was lagging again on her for the 5th time and of course, she went to Eren to rant about it.

Eren and (Y/N) had been best friends since they were toddlers. Eren lived right next to her and their mothers were close, they bathed together, played at the playground, celebrated birthdays, went through the shitty four years of high school, and now they are going through the next four years of college.

The two watched each other grow up. They were no longer these children who played tag or rode bikes until the street light came on, but rather adults who had to prepare for their futures.

Eren's brunette hair was now long, it grew past his shoulders and could be tied in a neat man bun. (Y/N) grew into a woman practically overnight, her face showed her growth.

"I don't know why you're wasting your time, isn't this like the 5th time he's ghosted you?"

Eren stepped into the room with a bag of chips, he tossed it onto his bed so she could take it.

"He didn't ghost me! He's just not sure if he wants a relationship," she replied, grabbing the bag of chips off the side of the bed.

Eren rolled his teal eyes. "Yeah okay.. I've heard that one before. He ghosted you (Y/N), just like last time."

She leaned back against the headboard, she hated how Eren could be so pessimistic sometimes. He always looked at the bad in certain situations, it was clearly his toxic trait. He was too stubborn to admit it though.

She never understood his stubbornness, many people in high school questioned how she dealt with Eren and his crazy mood swings. He had a temper, causing him to get into fist fights and arguments with anyone in the student body that pissed him off. She always told those people that she could easily calm Eren down, somewhat like a comforter for him.

"He'll be back tomorrow," she said, opening the bag of chips and shoving a few in her mouth. Her tongue tasting the saltiness.

Eren didn't necessarily believe that. "Whatever you say.." he replied before plopping down next to her.

A sudden ping from her phone made her ears chirp. She grabbed it seeing Jean's name across the screen, a smile forming onto her lips.

Eren grabbed the phone from her. "Don't respond," he said, placing it next to him.

(Y/N) turned her head towards him. "Why not? Eren! Give me back my phone. It's rude to not respond," she said, trying to reach over and grab it.

His eyes narrowed, "What? (Y/N), you've got to be kidding me. He ignored you for a whole day, it's rude of him to not respond." he felt frustration going through him.

She pouted a bit, crossing her arms. "You never know Eren!"

Eren shoved her phone in his pocket. "Yeah okay.. you better provide the same energy. Don't reply to him and I swear if you do I will call your mom," he said and reached for the remote.

She rolled her eyes at Eren's actions. He didn't know why Jean wasn't responding, so why should he be mad?

"Fine, whatever you say." she said, looking at the tv screen.

-

The next day was another dreaded day of classes and homework. (Y/N) was swamped with assignments and so was Eren, he had so much to do he could barely keep count of the amount of essays and other work he had to do.

"We could study together!" Eren said, nodding his head at (Y/N) as they walked through the campus.

She was on her phone, not paying too much attention which bothered Eren.

"Hello?"

Eren grabbed her phone out of her hands.

"Eren! Give it back!" she yelled, trying to grab it from him.

He stared at the screen, seeing Jean's name displayed on the screen. Jealousy rang through Eren, it made his chest feel tight.

"Seriously?" he said. "I told you to give him a rest, (Y/N) he's literally a dick."

She rolled her eyes before taking her phone back. "Eren I get you're trying to be a good best friend, but really, I got this. He told me he was busy, relax." she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

Eren was frustrated, why the hell does she keep going back to the guy? He's put her through so much bullshit and it bothered him to the point that he wanted to punch Jean in the face himself. He always bit his tongue on it, but it was like a thorn in his side whenever she talked or ranted about him. Can't she see what's in front of her?

"Yeah.. whatever.. look I gotta go anyway," Eren said before walking away and leaving her there.

She watched as he turned the corner, fading from her vision. Eren was stubborn but he usually got over things like this, what was the problem now?

Eren scoffed making his way to class, his mind was now clouded with negative thoughts. He wished (Y/N) would just listen to him! No matter how much he tried she wouldn't ever give his words a chance, it's like she didn't want to face the actuality that Jean was a lying asshole.

As Eren turned the corner he was faced with a sight that made his vision turn red.

There was Jean.

Leaning in against another girl.

His green eyes grew wide at the sight, what the fuck was he doing? His eye twitched at the sight, Jean was lying to her. It was blatantly obvious, and that explained why he would disappear for hours to days on end. (Y/N) was his second choice. He whipped out his phone, snapping a photo before heading off to class.

-

Two weeks went by and (Y/N) heard nothing from Eren.

No calls, no texts, nothing.

She tried approaching him at school but he ignored her, he avoided going in the same directions she did and whenever she tried texting him the messages were always opened.

She wasn't sure what she did but she needed her best friend right now. Jean stopped talking to her again, and she needed a listening ear. Eren was her usual go to but without him here, she didn't know what to do.

Here she stood outside Eren's apartment. Her heart thumped in her ears, she could feel it throughout her whole body.

She knocked on the door, waiting for a response.

The door opened, Eren's gaze met hers. She could faintly see his jaw tighten up and his face harden from the sight of her.

"Eren.. um, can we talk?"

He didn't say anything but move so she could enter his apartment. She could smell the faint scent of his body wash on his skin.

"Don't you have class?" he asked, plopping down on a chair.

She fidgeted with her fingers. "Um no.. I finished my classes early," she replied, looking at him nervously.

He nodded his head before sipping the water in his cup. "Mm.. I see"

She felt the awkwardness and tension through the air, something was up. She just didn't know exactly what.

"Jean stopped talking to me again.." she said, avoiding his eyes.

A chuckle escaped Eren's throat. "Huh.. doesn't surprise me but what can I say, you let it happen." he stood up, heading towards the sink.

What the hell? Eren has never said shit like this before to her.

"Okay seriously, what the fuck is your problem!? You ignore me for two weeks and now you're being a dick??" she scoffed.

Eren's head snapped towards her. "My problem? You want the honest truth, (Y/N)? You really wanna hear what the fuck is going on?!" he yelled, his voice sounding serious.

"Yes! It'd be good to know!" she replied, crossing her arms.

He laughed before leaning against the counter. "Jean doesn't fucking like you. Okay? I'm so fucking tired of how dense you are."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What? Eren you don't understand how complicated it is!" she replied.

He laughed again before sliding his phone in front of her. "What's complicated about that huh?"

She picked up the phone, her eyes grew wide at the sight of Jean leaning against another girl. She felt hurt, angry, upset. Nothing could pinpoint how she felt.

"I-I'm.." she felt tears burning her eyes.

"It's so hard being your friend.." he mumbled, looking at her.

Her head shot up, "What?! Eren-"

"No let me fucking speak for once. It's so hard being best friends with you, these guys walk all over you! And guess what? I'm the one who has to fix you! Then what do you do (Y/N)? You go back and let them treat you like shit."

Tears rolled down her cheeks, a few sobs escaped her mouth.

"Eren-"

"I'm not finished, do I gotta remind you? Levi Ackerman during your freshman year? Porco Galliard your junior year? I was there for all of that. You kept going back to them and you never once listened to me! I warned you so many times, yet you rather not face the facts. I was always there to pick up the pieces." he said, his voice loud.

She sobbed, Eren was right. She never listened to him, he always was the one to give her warnings and yet she still went for it anyway.

"Eren.. I-I'm s-sorry.." she cried.

He scoffed, "It's just.. you never saw who was in front of you," he said, looking at the floor.

Her head shot up, "What? What do you mean?" she asked, her brows furrowed.

"Don't you get it (Y/N)?" he asked.

She shook her head, "N-No..? I don't even understand why you're yelling at me either!" she replied, wiping a few tears off her cheeks.

"Christ (Y/N), I fucking love you that's why!"

Silence filled the room between them. She felt her heart suddenly swell, deep down she always knew she loved Eren.. she just pushed those feelings away because she thought it was just a best friend kind of love. But it was more.

"B-But.. what about Mikasa? A-And Historia?" she asked.

Eren walked towards her. "(Y/N).. I love you, I never loved Mikasa or Historia.. they were just close friends. I always hung around them to try and push what I felt away," he replied.

"I don't understand.. how long? Why didn't you ever just come clean?" she asked, few tears escaping her eyes.

He looked away from her. "(Y/N) I knew I loved you when we started high school, Armin noticed, so did Mikasa. I wanted to come clean sooner but everytime we got close you found another guy and pushed me out of the picture."

Her eyes went to the floor, she was trying to process this information. She never once thought Eren felt the way she did, she always figured that she'd be only a best friend, nothing more.

"Eren.. I'm sorry, I'm such a horrible best friend." she said, sniffling a bit.

He walked in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Don't apologize.. I don't wanna see you hurt anymore that's all," he used the pad of his thumb to wipe away the tears on her cheeks.

She looked into his eyes, she noticed how they softened now. "E-Eren.. I-I love you.." she said, curling her fingers around his wrist.

His eyebrows shot up, "What? N-No you don't.. you're just saying that to make me feel better," he replied, looking away.

She used her hand to turn his face towards her again. "Have I ever lied to you? Eren.. I knew I loved you, I thought it was just a best friend type of love, but I knew deep down it was more than that."

His cheeks dusted pink, "I just... I don't want you saying it because I said it. You genuinely mean so much to me and fuck... (Y/N) I wanna be the one to heal you from everything," he said, cupping her cheek. "I want to make you forget all of the hurt you went through."

She felt a smile grow onto her cheeks. "I'd.. love that," she replied, looking into his hues.

Their faces were now inches apart, his lips ghosted over hers before he leaned in and kissed her. Her lips were soft, warm, the kiss was passionate, it felt.. real. Her arms went around his neck, bringing him down closer to her.

His hands found their way to her hips, he pressed her body against his.

Breaking the kiss, she looked up at him. "I love you.." she said.

A smile grew onto his lips. "I love you too.." he replied. "Please.. let me be the one to heal you from all of this, I promise, I'll never hurt you."

Her cheeks grew warm, "You promise?"

"Have I ever lied to you..?" he asked.

She felt a smile grow onto her features. "Well no.." she replied.

He pecked her lips, "There's your answer, now come on, let me take care of you."

He lifted her up, her legs going around his waist. "Eren! Be careful," she said, slapping his shoulder.

"I won't drop you, trust me!" he said, taking her to his room.

-

"I haven't heard from (Y/N) in days," Jean said, looking at Connie.

He shrugged, "I dunno! Maybe she lost her phone," he said.

Jean sighed, maybe she was just busy? He wasn't sure.

"Uh.. Jean?" Connie said, hitting his arm and pointing at someone.

Jean looked up, his jaw dropping.

There she was, but she wasn't by herself. She was with.. Eren??

"Ha! Sucks to be you!" Connie said, chuckling at Jean's expression.

He glared at him, "Shut up! What the hell?! That doesn't make sense.. she was talking to me!" he said.

Eren smirked as he walked past Jean and Connie, his hand around (Y/N)'s waist. He felt enjoyment watching Jean get pissed, he also seemed to take in that Jean noticed the small bite marks around her neck. All provided by Eren of course.

"Stupid Eren.." Jean mumbled.

Eren looked at (Y/N), she smiled up at him. "That was probably the most petty thing I've done," she giggled.

Eren smirked, leaning down to kiss her lips. "He missed out," he replied.

"He certainly did." she said, taking his hand into hers and going to class.

[ptergwen]

call me cupid

w/c: 3.5k

warnings: very mild angst and a few swears

summary: despite your hatred for valentine’s day, peter attempts to make you a card

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves!! i hope y’all get to spend some time with your people today and eat lots of chocolate <3 love you & enjoy mwah

-

it’s no secret that peter is terrible with words. he gets so flustered he can’t talk or forgets what he wants to say altogether. school presentations are torture. ordering food out is impossible. he’s accepted it at this point, that speaking just isn’t for him.

the one place it doesn’t come across is on paper. peter is ridiculously smart, and he knows all the right words to string together, which is why writing you a valentine should be no trouble at all. should be no trouble at all.

to tell the truth, he’s been sitting at his kitchen table with a blank sheet of paper in front of him for what feels like hours. nothing is coming to him. he’s not sure why this is so hard. you’re his girlfriend, he loves you, he’s said it so many times in every way he could think to. what’s different about it now?

everyone puts way too much pressure on giving the perfect gift when they should really just be enjoying each other’s company on a holiday about love. or, in your words, a meaningless holiday that was created by capitalists as another excuse to take people’s money. 

alright, you aren’t too fond of valentine’s day.

it makes anyone who’s single feel like shit and anyone who’s in a relationship lose their shit.

only mj agreed when you shared your criticisms. ned and betty gave you looks like you were insane, and flash muttered something about you being undateable. peter had laughed and swung an arm around your shoulders, but he didn’t fully agree.

although valentine’s day has its flaws, peter likes to see it as twenty four hours of extra appreciation for the people in his life. you can buy chocolate for your friends and family. it doesn’t have to be a significant other, really. him and ned would do it before he had you and ned had betty.

peter wants to remind you how loved you are even if you’re not into the festivities like he is, that bringing him to writing your card. it’s a simple and clinically underrated way of expressing his gratitude. he’d write you love letters every day if he didn’t suck at them.

may comes out of her room to see peter in the same place he’s been since he got home from school. she looks at him through her glasses, smiling as she comes into the room. he’s tapping his pencil on the table, eraser down, searching his mind for anything to write.

“still nothing?” may asks him, making her way over to the cabinets. peter puts down the pencil and sighs. his shoulders slump. “nope. i haven’t gotten past the intro.” “intro, huh?” she teases her newphew and grabs a jar of sauce. “y/n isn’t your teacher, kiddo. you’re not writing her an essay.” she looks at peter over her shoulder. a sheepish smile creeps onto his face.

“you know what i mean.” he reads over the only words on his paper at the moment. dear y/n. he’s starting to feel like spongebob the one time he wrote a paper. “what are you making?” peter asks may so he can temporarily take the focus off his unwritten valentine. “pasta,” may shakes the box in her hand. “and meatballs.”

“should i dial 911 now or wait until we’re in flames?” peter jokes about her awful cooking skills. may shoos him off and puts the box of pasta on the counter. “worry about your own kitchen nightmare.” she nods at the sheet of paper tormenting him. frowning, he glances back at her. “i’m the worst, may. i really don’t know what to write.”

may struggles to open the jar of sauce as she replies. “i thought you said- jesus.” it pops off. “y/n doesn’t like valentine’s day.” she slides over a pot from the stove and dumps the sauce in. peter stares up at the ceiling. “she doesn’t.” that’s probably why he’s having such a hard time. “why are you writing her a card, then?” may questions, turning on a burner.

“because, i dunno, it’s nice? it’ll make her happy? she might not care, but i do.” he mumbles the last part. he’s a bit of a hopeless romantic, so he hasn’t quite adjusted to the idea you had of not getting each other presents. you’re treating it like a regular day. some takeout and cuddles is all you’re doing.

peter would rather buy you things until his pockets are empty. not that there’s much in them, anyway. the point is that you deserve proper spoiling instead of corny words in his shitty handwriting.

“peter, honey. it might be better to stick with what y/n wants,” may suggests while stirring the sauce in the pot. she’s well aware that a few paragraphs from peter won’t change your mind. your opinions belong to you, and there’s nothing he can do about it, though he does have good intentions.

ignoring what may just said, peter makes a request. “what if you help me write it?” she faces the stove again. he can picture her playful smile when she quirks back, “she’s not my girlfriend.” “no, but you’re a girl... a woman,” he corrects himself, earning a scoff from may. “you’d probably know what sounds good.”

“you know y/n better than me, peter. do it on your own,” she exhales and turns back around with the wooden spoon in her hand. “it’ll be more... heartfelt.” peter hates that may is right because he’s completely stuck. his heart is being stupid today. “okay. i’ll try.” he gives her a slow nod. “why don’t you take a break? come stir the sauce. i’ll start the pasta.”

peter gets up from the table and grabs the spoon from may. she pinches his cheek on her way to the sink, getting a tight lipped smile from him.

this is not good.

-

the next day at school, peter asks around the lunch table for advice while you’re on line getting food. he feels guilty about it because may told him not to. he’s never going to get your valentine done if he doesn’t, though. it isn’t the worst thing in the world to bring on some co-writers.

“ok, what do you have so far?” betty asks, fully invested in the situation. she’s hoping this will switch up your views on valentine’s day. peter pulls out the same piece of paper from last night and says verbatim what’s on it. “dear y/n.” he looks up at ned and betty, the corners of his mouth twitching down. ned motions with his hand for peter to go on.

“that’s it,” peter confesses and folds the paper back up in shame. “dude, you told us it was a work in progress,” ned winces, betty taking his hand that’s resting on her shoulder. “where’s the progress?” betty patronizes him. they’re making him feel worse than he already did. what great co-writers he’s collaborating with.

peter throws a hand up, an eye roll included. “yeah, it’s terrible. can you help me or not?” mj narrows her own eyes at peter from the other end of his bench. she’s not interested in participating when the conversation is about forcing you to celebrate a holiday you don’t like.

“ooh!” betty squeals and squeezes ned’s hand. “you should make a list.” ned grins, leaning his head on hers. “genius, babe.” “a list of what?” peter furrows his eyebrows as he looks between the two of them. “what you love about y/n,” she explains, ned adding on, “stuff you do together, or you appreciate.”

“put whatever you come up with into sentences and voilà,” betty says in her best french accent. “oui oui,” ned agrees, both of them giggling. that doesn’t sound half bad. peter could manage a list about you. “thank you so much, guys. you literally just saved valentine’s day,” he confidently tucks his paper into his pocket. “it’s what we do,” ned tells him coolly.

“you never asked what i think,” mj cuts in, staring down her friends, who reluctantly meet her gaze. she pushes her bag of goldfish aside and raises an eyebrow. “mj, we know how you feel about valentine’s day.” peter presses his lips together. “y/n feels the same way,” mj reminds him dryly.

it’s true, but he doesn’t want to hear that right now. he’s having a breakthrough.

like clockwork, you appear at the table. you slip into the spot next to peter and put down your lunch tray. “what’d i miss?” you comment on the obvious tension, eyeing betty for an explanation. mj gives it to you. “valentine’s day discourse,” she tells you knowingly. peter shifts in his seat, uncomfortable, like he’s been caught doing something he isn’t supposed to.

he technically has.

“yuck,” you murmur, winding your arms around peter’s neck. “yuck, yuck, yuck.” he finds your words ironic because you then kiss his cheek, and peck his lips when he turns his head. peter puts a hand on your side and lets his eyes go up and down your face. a smile spreads across it, which he returns without thinking about. mj huffs in disapproval. she’s seen enough pda.

-

peter makes his list later that night. he decided he isn’t being inauthentic because he’s coming up with everything himself. he breezes right through it, jotting down what he loves most about you across the paper. it’s a mess. scribbled out misspellings and shreds of eraser, single words and whole phrases covering both sides. he’s proud of his actual progress.

he’ll write the official letter tomorrow since you’re coming over tonight. he at least has his material. the next, thankfully final, step is to reword it.

you’re ranting to peter about some drama with one of your teachers. he listens intently as always, chuckling when you crack jokes and grinning the entire time, feeling so lucky to have the most passionate, say whatever is on her mind girlfriend ever. seriously, it’s inspiring to watch.

“no, like, i never know what’s going on in that class,” you snort, peter snaking his arms around your middle from behind. “because you don’t pay attention,” he hums with his face nuzzled into the back of your neck. “because it doesn’t make any sense!” you defend yourself. his lips brush against your bare skin, drawing a giggle out of you.

“back to what i was saying,” your voice drips with sarcasm. the two of you naturally gravitate to his room, you walking in first. “she called on me, and i- what’s this?” you escape peter’s arms and head over to his desk. crap, he was working on your valentine and forgot to put it away. it caught your attention because it’s surrounded by crumpled papers and glitter.

peter was... experimenting... with designs for the front of the card. he’s learned that he isn’t too artistic either.

“wait, don’t read that,“ peter tries, but you’ve already got the list in your hands. he anxiously sucks his lower lip into his mouth and comes to stand next to you.

you first see the ‘dear y/n,’ then focus in on a few other words. my person forever, which makes you coo at the paper. insane (in the best way), which makes you gasp dramatically. i know you don’t like valentine’s day, but...

you drop the card back on the desk and let out a breath, shutting your eyes as irritation creeps in. it wouldn’t be fair for you to be mad at peter because it’s a sweet gesture, it really is. just, not for you personally. you’re on opposite sides of the valentine’s spectrum. you despise it, he sort of loves it. you’d hoped to meet somewhere in the middle.

“i thought we said no gifts,” you keep your voice level and spin around to look at peter. his face is painted with guilt. “it’s a card,” he murmurs, then meets your eyes with his brows knitted together. “i can’t even give you a card?” “i mean...” you shrug and shake your head. “look, peter. we had an agreement. i’m not doing valentine’s day.”

his disappointment comes out in the form of hanging his head. “yeah, you’re right. sorry.”

may tried to tell him this would happen, mj tried to tell him, and now you’re telling him. he should’ve expected it. he isn’t sure why he’s being so mopey about it because he was fully aware of your hatred for anything with the word valentine in it. it still hurts. peter just wishes you’d let him have the one day to love you and only you, give you some special attention.

“it’s nothing against you, babe,” you reassure him, noticing the shift in his mood. you put a hand on his shoulder. “i really just don’t like valentine’s day. it feels so... fake to me.” peter musters up a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. it drops when you loop your arms around his torso.

“if i celebrated, you’d be the first person i’d wanna spend it with.” you punctuate your words with a kiss to his cheek. he rests his chin on your head, you nuzzling your own cheek into his sweater. he’s feeling a bit better now. it’s not about him, that’s what he needs to remind himself. “thanks, baby,” peter speaks lowly into the air. you hum as if to say no problem.

scratch literally everything he’s done.

-

peter rolls over in his bed, rubbing at his eyes as his alarm goes off. it’s today. happy valentine’s day to... himself. he doesn’t think you’d want to hear it.

he’s not as broken up about everything as the other day. you have your reasons for not celebrating, and peter accepts them. hey, he still gets to spend the whole day with you. you’re technically having an unspoken valentine’s date.

he gets up from his bed with a yawn and starts to dig through his drawers for an outfit. you should be over soon.

before you head over to peter’s, you decide to make a quick stop at cvs for a few things. you ended up feeling pretty terrible about snapping on him essentially for loving you. it was over a harmless valentine, something to make you feel good and be an outlet for the hundreds of romantic bones in his body. basically, you were bitter about having a thoughtful boyfriend.

you want to make it up to him by giving him gifts instead. you’ll never be down with the whole exploitive and capitalistic side of valentine’s day, but there’s a deeper meaning to it than what you give it credit for. you see that now. peter was able to show his love for you through a homemade mess of a card, and you felt it. the price tags don’t matter. the meaning does.

dressed in his nicest sweater with his hair all styled, peter answers your knocking at his door. a grin instantly paints his face as he takes you in. you’re bundled up in a coat and holding a bag by your side. “hey,” he greets you and lets you past him. you shut the door behind him, returning the smile and winding an arm around his neck for a hug. his drapes around your back.

“hey. happy valentine’s day.” “happy valentine’s-“ peter realizes what he’s about to say and what you just said, then stops himself. “what?” he breaks the hug, squinting at your odd behavior. you’re the last person he’d expected to hear that from. “it’s valentine’s day. so, happy valentine’s day,” you tell him like it’s nothing.

he stays quiet while you shrug off your coat and throw it over one of the kitchen chairs. you bring your bag along with you, peter following you in. he’s suspicious. intrigued, and suspicious. it’s been less than a day since he last say you. you had a change of heart that fast? you aren’t the biggest valentine’s day anti he knows anymore?

“where’s may?” you wonder aloud, taking both of peter’s hands in your now free ones. he eyes the shopping bag you put down while you lace your fingers together. “with happy. they’re getting brunch.” he’s never particularly psyched to talk about their relationship. it’s always been in a joking way, though. now, he sounds genuinely upset to go over may’s whereabouts.

“they’re so cute,” you comment, tugging on peter’s hands so he looks at you. “you good?” “great,” peter half lies and nods, then presses a reassuring kiss to your cheek. he’s not bad. puzzled is the word. what you say next only adds to it.

“good. i have a few things for you,” you beam at him and grab your shopping bag off the chair. that’s what that’s for? peter isn’t fully sure what you’re up to. it doesn’t stop a smile from stretching across his lips, though.

“what happened to no presents?” he tests you as you reach into the bag. “well, i feel bad about how i acted the other day.” you pull out a heart shaped box of chocolates. “the card was really sweet, and i was too caught off guard to appreciate it. i’m sorry, pete.” peter’s eyes twinkle at you, gazing as you give him a smile with a hint of shyness behind it. you’re leaving your comfort zone and entering his.

“i was wrong and cynical and just, yeah. happy valentine’s day,” you add on and shove the box into his hand. he finally grins, so wide and then lets out a breathy laugh. “thanks, y/n. i know it was probably hard to shop being surrounded by this stuff.” he holds up the box. he’s right. you’ll unfortunately be seeing pink and red for weeks. “it was, but i did it for you.” you happily open up your arms for him.

peter puts down the chocolates and pulls you into his arms, his cheek squished against the side of your head as he hugs you to his chest. “oh my god, i love you so much,” he mumbles out, you squeezing him in response. “i love you, pete.” you press a quick kiss to his neck and hold him at arm’s length so you can see him. “i have something else for you.”

“baby,” peter coos, a pout on his lips. “you don’t have to do all of this. i would’ve been fine without the chocolates, even.” “stop, you deserve it,” you shut down the part of him that’s way too nice and selfless. “you’re my real present,” he says lower and with a toothy smile. shaking your head, you reach behind you and into the bag.

he can’t believe you’ve switched stances on valentine’s day. you’re the present pusher, and he’s refusing them. peter thinks it’s some sort of miracle that you’re not only acknowledging the holiday, you’re also partaking in it. his hopeless romantic side tells him it’s actually love, and it is. that’s the cheesy, hallmark movie truth. you suffered through shopping at a heart themed cvs because you love him. simple.

you return with a pink envelope that you place into peter’s hand. his face softens as he closes his fingers around it. “y/n, you made me a card?” “kind of,” you laugh at his overstatement. it’s obviously pre-made. you’d used a pen to fill it out in the store, scribbled a few words and tucked it into the envelope.

“it really doesn’t compare to yours, though,” you simultaneously warn and compliment him. peter dismisses you with a lighthearted click of his tongue. “oh, shush. that was only a rough draft.” “which proves my point even more. open it.” you grip onto the bottom of his sweater and grin.

he keeps his eyes on you while ripping open the envelope, then looks down and chuckles at the gag of the card. it has r2d2 and r4d4 from star wars on the front. inside is already written, “r4 is red and r2 is blue. if i was the force then i’d be with you.” you giggle to yourself, watching him read what you wrote next. i love you more every day, especially on valentine’s. xo, y/n.

peter holds the card to his side and slings an arm around your waist. “they make star wars valentines?” he murmurs, another smile breaking out on his face, one that you of course return. you use his sweater to pull him closer. “apparently. perfect for you.” peter tosses the card down next to the chocolates, both arms now holding you.

“thank you so much, baby. you’re an angel,” he sighs and pecks your lips after. “call me cupid,” you answer.

you give him a longer kiss back, tilting your head up to deepen it. your hands find their place on his biceps, earning a hum from peter as he moves his lips against yours. you can feel his love in every little movement, how he hugs your waist like you’re made of glass, rests his forehead against yours. when your lips mutually detach, peter speaks first, voice slightly husky.

“happy valentine’s day, cupid.”

you breathe out, peter closing his eyes in content.

“happy valentine’s day, r2.”

[kiarcheo]

Every Woman Needs a Little Madness in Her Life

                                      (Edmond Rostand, Cyrano de Bergerac, Act 4)

‘You can be my Cyrano.’

‘Doesn’t he die at the end? And the guy he writes for too, before him?’

‘You know, what? Let’s forget about that.’

Read on Ao3

                                   ——————————————–

Anne Boleyn was known for lots of things including being good with words. Insightful participation in classes. Witty jokes. Biting retorts. High-graded essays. Flirty banter. You name it. But when it came to talking about her feelings in a serious manner or when sweet words were needed...well, suddenly her mastery of the English language seemed to disappear.

Unfortunately, that was exactly what she needed in order to woo Catalina. Or at least get the chance to try.

Henry had mentioned how much lower maintenance than Catalina she was, relieved not to have to bring flowers and plan interesting dates and be sweet all the time…which…first of all, rude! But then again, it gave her an insight on what dating Catalina would be…and Anne wanted that. She was sure she would be much better than Henry, not that it would take much. For sure she would never cheat on her.

If only Catalina would give her a chance. Sadly, her usual methods don’t seem to work. Her flirting had never let her down, but every time she approaches Catalina, she seems to develop a foot-in-mouth disease. All that comes out from her lips are either dumb jokes or lame pick-up lines and even the rare times she thinks that she managed to sound at least like a normal person without embarrassing herself...well, Catalina still looks like she is questioning why God chose to punish her like that, by sending Anne her way.

But luckily Anne knows someone who is good with words, the sweet, nice, romantic kind of words.

Enter Kat, her cousin and best friend.

‘Run that by me again?’

‘I want to leave notes to Catalina to woo her so that when I ask her on a date she will say yes.’

‘Okay.’ Kat nods. ‘I get that.’

‘As a secret admirer.’

‘You’re losing me.’

‘And you’re going to write the notes.’

‘Yep. Completely lost.’

‘What? Why?’

‘How are you supposed to convince her to go on a date with you if she doesn’t know it’s you? And why I’m the one writing?’

‘Secret admirers are cool. Romantic. Henry used to complain about Catalina making him watch rom-coms and stuff like that.’

Kat pulls a face at that.

‘I know, I don’t know what I was thinking dating him, but!’ Anne raises her index in the air to stop whatever her cousin was going to say. ‘Listen to me. She likes that. But she doesn’t like me. Right now, the mere sight of me sets her teeth on edge. And I keep making a fool out of myself whenever I try to talk to her. So the notes are gonna do the work for me, they will woo her, she’ll be interested in meeting the secret admirer and BOOM! That’s me!’ She gestures to herself. ‘I mean, maybe she’ll be confused enough to give me a chance?’ She trails off, confidence waning. ‘Kat? Say something?’

The younger girl tilts her head, staring at her cousin. ‘Ok,’ she says after a beat. ‘I can sort of see it. Maybe. But why do you need me?’

‘Because I can write kick-ass essays and I can come up with bawdy songs that are a work of art, if I say so myself, but…do you remember when I had that assignment in high school and I had to write a love letter?’

Kat laughs at the memory.

‘Yeah. Exactly.’ Anne isn’t upset. That had been a clusterfuck of epic proportions. Worse thing she has ever handed in in her whole academic career. ‘And you’re a poet.’

‘I’m not.’

‘And if I do it,’ Anne ignores Kat’s words, ‘at best I’ll end up with something like…Roses are red, violets are blue, Henry was a dick, I want to date you.’

‘Maybe don’t write her that.’ Kat grimaces. She feels like it’s her duty to stop her cousin from embarrassing herself in front of her crush more than she has already done.

‘See why I need your help?’ Anne grabs her hands in hers. ‘Pretty please with a cherry on top?’

‘Put away that pout.’ Kat sighs, lips twitching as she tries not to smile at the childish pleading. ‘Okay.’

‘Really??’

‘You know that there are not a lot of things I would not do for you. I still don’t think it’s a good idea.’ Kat just wants to point it out one last time. ‘But it’s not gonna hurt anyone.... except possibly your dignity.’

‘Don’t worry.’ Anne waves it off. ‘I’ve lost that ages ago’

/

‘What are you doing?’

‘Shhh.’ Catalina yanks her friend behind the vending machine. ‘I left a note saying that I want to meet my,’ she air-quotes, rolling her eyes, ‘secret admirer.’

Not so secret anymore. Catalina had nipped to the loo while studying at the library and as she was returning to her place, she had seen Anne Boleyn leaving something on her desk.

Cathy nods. Catalina had shown her the note and they had compared it with the others that she has been finding in her bag, on the desks she usually sat at or in her books, after leaving them unattended either at the library or at lectures and seminars. There were no doubts it had been Anne all along.

Convinced it is a set-up and tired of waiting for the punch line that would make her the butt of the joke, Catalina had decided to take matters in her hands.

‘Where are you?’ Anne storms out of the room, phone to her ear. ‘She wants to meet me. See you behind the theatre.’

‘No.’ Cathy doesn’t need Catalina to speak to know what she is thinking. One look at her is enough.

‘Yes.’ Catalina grabs her wrist and before she knows Cathy is walking across the campus, the theatre their unspoken destination.

When they arrive, Anne is pacing. Giving them her back is another girl, they can only see long, dark hair with pink tips. She is sitting on a bench, her head following Anne’s movement as she walks back and forth in front of her, gesticulating as she is talking.

Catalina drags Cathy with her until they are closer, hiding behind a tall hedge. They have no clear visual, but they can hear them now.

‘I need you to write a note!’

Catalina and Cathy share a look. The younger girl puts a hand on her friend’s arm. Catalina can say all she wants that she has always known it was nothing but a prank, but Cathy isn’t her best friend for nothing. She knows that she was hoping it was real.

‘Catalina wants to meet me!’ Anne continues, an edge of panic in her voice.

‘That was, like, the whole point, no?’ the other girl sounds confused. ‘Just reply to the note and say yes.’

‘You do that.’

‘Why?’ A single word, the resigned tone of someone used to deal with whatever nonsense Anne Boleyn usually comes up with.

‘I want a nice, sweet note. And knowing myself I’d mess it up somehow.’

‘Okay, let’s say I write it. Then what happens?’

‘Hopefully she won’t slap me when she sees me?’

‘Yes, hopefully she doesn’t.’ The girl nods. ‘And then?’

‘She agrees to go on a date?’ Anne looks tentatively hopeful.

‘Exactly. Where you’ll have to talk to her without using my words as intermediary.’

‘You can come with me!’ Anne exclaims. ‘Come on!’ she gives a playful whine. ‘You can be my Cyrano.’

‘Doesn’t he die at the end? And the guy he writes for too, before him?’

‘You know, what? Let’s forget about that.’ Anne waves her hand as if she could physically send the thought away. ‘Oh. I can get an earpiece and you can tell me what to say! Like spies!’

‘We are so not going to do that.’ They can’t see the girl’s face, but it’s not hard to imagine she is wearing a deadpan look. ‘Annie.’ Affection is clear in the uttering of the name. ‘I can’t always be there as the third wheel to feed you lines.’

Anne doesn’t say anything.

‘Just be yourself.’

‘Terrible advice,’ Anne scoffs. ‘That’s how I got her to hate me.’

‘She doesn’t hate you.’

‘Yes, she does. She likes the person who sends her sweet messages.’

‘Which is…you?’

‘But the words are yours. What am I even supposed to tell her?’

‘Don’t know. Just be sincere. What do you like about her? Tell her that.’

Anne looks unconvinced. ‘I tried that.’

‘I don’t mean like…flirting. Or attempting to. What it was...telling her that you like when she gets hot and bothered?’

‘Something like that,’ Anne admits sheepishly. She meant it in a sexy way, but Catalina interpreted it as her saying she likes to annoy and irritate her. Which happens quite often, but it’s not exactly what Anne was going for. Damn the English language and its contronyms!

‘Just...you know...talk about the way her eyes light up when she defends her argument in class. How you could live in an ocean of her thoughts, because you find her mind fascinating. How you want to get lost in her arms. Even just telling her that she is smart and pretty would be a good start.’

‘Are you sure that it’s not YOU who has a crush on her?’

‘Absolutely. That’s my evil masterplan. Get her to agree on a date with you so that I can then swoop in and steal her.’ You don't need to be able to see her to guess the girl is rolling her eyes. ‘I mean, her hugs are pretty nice.’

‘How do you even know that?’

‘She saw me crying in the toilets once. Hugged me. Comforted me. Offered me a proper tissue and some wipes so that I would not scrape my face raw with the paper towels.’

‘When was that? Where was I? Why were you crying?’

As the girl waves Anne’s concern away, Cathy turns to Catalina, who shrugs. Maybe if she were to see the girl’s face...but at the moment she has no precise memory of that episode.

‘So you approve of her as my girlfriend because she gives good hugs?’ Anne must have been reassured, because she is back to her teasing.

‘No, you dumbass. But, you know, someone taking the time to comfort a stranger… she is a good person.’

‘I can already see it. Movie night at home. The two of you cuddling and me in the corner of the couch, all alone with just the popcorns as company,’ Anne carries on with over-the-top dramatics.

‘God gave us two arms so we can cuddle two people at the same time.’

‘You’re such a smart cookie, aren't you?!’ Anne reaches out to pinch her cheek, but her hand gets batted away. ‘So you’ll write the note?’

‘Fine.’

‘Really?’

‘Why do you sound so surprised? Have I ever denied you anything?’

‘You stopped me from having revenge on Jane.’

‘You were drunk and you wanted to set fire to Jane’s house. Which is a flat. In a building. Full of other flats. And other people. Who had done nothing to you. So forgive me for stopping you from committing arson, possibly killing people, and getting thrown in jail. Besides you know that hurting other people and illegal stuff are the only things I generally won’t do when it comes to helping you out.’

‘So illegal stuff is not completely out of the question?’

‘Within limits.’

‘Wait! Don’t you have a lecture?’ Anne suddenly switches gears.

‘Not if you need me.’

‘Get up!’ Anne holds out her hand. ‘We can talk about it tonight, have a sleepover and all that jazz.’

The girl takes her hand and stands up. ‘Anne,’ a beat, ‘we live together.’  

‘Come on!’ Anne ignores the comment. ‘I’ll walk you there.’  

Catalina and Cathy peep up from behind their hiding spot to see them walking away holding hands. Then they look at each other.

‘So?’

‘So what?’

‘It seems like she actually wants to date you.’

‘But didn’t why she write the notes herself?’ Cathy wants to say that Anne actually explained why but Catalina goes on. ‘And who is that girl?’

Cathy shrugs. ‘Maybe Jane knows her?’

Right. Catalina had forgotten that she is Anne’s cousin. Next stop is Jane’s flat. The one that would have been set on fire had it not been for the mystery girl’s intervention. She wonders if Jane knows about the danger she narrowly escaped.

‘So…Anne Boleyn is your cousin, right?’

‘Yeah?’ Jane is a bit wary. Usually nothing good comes from such a question.

‘She was with a girl today.’

‘Jealous already?’ Anna jokes, as she leaves the room to make some tea. She is not as close to Catalina as her flatmate is, but she can’t help herself. Anne being Catalina’s secret admirer...will wonders never cease!?

Catalina glances at Cathy in search of assistance, but her friend looks as helpless as she is...how to describe a girl they had not actually seen...and without admitting they were spying on them.

‘Pink hair,’ Cathy blurts out.

‘Oh. Katherine.’ Jane’s confusion disappears from her face. ‘Katherine Howard. She is my cousin too. Second cousin,’ She specifies. ‘We’re not particularly close. Me and Anne had problems and…well, if you have a problem with Anne, you have it with Katherine too. Doesn’t matter if it had nothing to do with her. Nothing comes close to Anne’s level of protectiveness of Katherine except Katherine’s protectiveness of Anne.’

‘So they are cousins too?’ Catalina asks, just wanting to make sure she understood correctly.

‘More sisters than cousins but yes,’ Jane confirms, and Cathy can see the relief on Catalina’s face.

‘You talking about Boleyn and Kat?’ Anna returns.

‘You know them too?’

‘Kat better than Anne, but yes. Why?’

Catalina swears them to secrecy, before telling them what they have heard.  

‘I can see that.’ Anna nods. She had been a bit surprised to hear that Anne had written those notes. Those words. Not that Anne is heartless or anything like that. But heartfelt words are just not the way she shows her love from what Anna knows about her. She would say that of all the five love languages, words of affirmation are definitely at the bottom of the list. She has spent enough time around her and Kat (and heard about her from Kat) to know that she is more about quality time and physical touch, with acts of service and gifts peppered in…and she’ll do all of that while teasing and making fun of you. Anna had been confused at first. But the more she saw Anne with Kat…She would give her cousin the world if she could, nobody who knows them would ever dare to suggest otherwise. So Anna had come to the realisation that Anne is more likely to show that she cares by roasting you rather than by waxing poetry about you. But Kat...Kat writing those notes makes so much more sense. That’s more her style. And she’d do pretty much anything for Anne.

.

‘Right.’ Cathy lightly slaps her thigh. ‘It’s time for me to go.’

‘Yeah, me too, actually,’ Anna says looking at the clock on the wall. ‘If you give me two minutes to get ready, we can head out together?’

They are walking in silence when Anna speaks up. ‘What’s up?’

‘Uh?’

‘You had a weird expression when Catalina was talking about her secret admirer being Anne and all that stuff.’ Anna glances at Cathy. ‘I know we’re not close or anything,’ it’s more like…their best friends are close friends, so they sometimes hang out together, ‘but if you want to talk…’

Cathy hesitates. ‘For…a while, I have been…’ she takes a deep breath as if steeling herself, ‘jealous…wait, no, envious of Catalina.’

It has been eating at her and it’s not like she can talk to her best friend about it.

Anna mulls it over. Then she goes back to what was her original question. ‘You fancy Boleyn?!’

‘No!’

Anna is taken aback by the outburst.

‘Sorry. I see why you’d think so, but no,’ Cathy apologises. ‘I...just...wished someone would write me those notes. So when we found out that it was Anne I thought, I don’t know, that I wished she was writing them to me?’ she struggles to put her thoughts and feelings in words that make sense. ‘Which was a bit weird because I was never really interested in her before? Sure, she is beautiful, I have eyes. But nothing more, you know? And even after...it was...not like I fancied her, but I wanted to? Does it make any sense?’

Anna lets out a noncommittal hum.  

‘Anyway, I was feeling so guilty because, well, Catalina liked the messages too, and more important, she likes Anne, no matter how much she protests. So to find out that I never had any feelings for Anne because she was not the one writing the notes?’

‘So, what? You’re in love with Kat now?’

‘Not…in love. But I might have a crush on her brain? Her heart? Which I realise now it sounds very weird, I don’t even know how the girl looks, please never repeat that to anyone,’ Cathy rushes out.

‘I think you should actually tell Kat that yourself.’

‘What??’ Cathy expected teasing, certainly not…that. Is Anna encouraging her?

‘What do you know about Kat?’

‘Uhm…she has a way with words? She is Anne’s cousin? And Jane’s apparently? She has pink hair?’ Cathy is racking her brain, but that’s all she got.

‘You have never seen her? For real?’

‘No. Just saw the pink hair. We were…’ Cathy clears her throat, a bit embarrassed, ‘sort of hiding?’

Anna appears to be debating whether to say anything about the last part or not. She decides not to. ‘Look. Kat is a lot of things. She is sweet. Funny. Loyal. Creative. Smart. Protective. Gorgeous. And the last bit is what most people choose to focus on. Complimenting her mind is definitely a good way to get in her good graces.’

‘Do you think I have a chance?’

‘Not up to me to say, is it? But,’ she tacks on seeing the disappointment on Cathy’s face, ‘do I think you could be compatible? I don’t know you that well, but I’d say yes. And you’d probably be a step ahead everyone else.’

/

‘Fancy seeing you here, you’re not around often.’ Cathy mentally facepalms. What a crappy opening line to start a conversation with her crush for the first time.

‘Waiting for Anne.’ Kat doesn’t seem too bothered. ‘Are you waiting for Catalina?’

Cathy nods.

‘Katherine. With a K.’ She holds her hand out. ‘You can call me Kat.’

‘Catherine. With a C.’ She shakes her hand. ‘You can call me Cathy.’

They smile at each other.

‘I hear we have to thank you for Lina and Anne getting together?’

Kat shrugs with a small smile.

‘Did you write them yourself? Because I tried to look some up but could not find anything.’

‘Yes.’ She nods bashfully.

‘They were brilliant. Absolutely amazing,’ Cathy breaths out. She knew it already but hearing it from the girl herself somehow made a new impression. ‘You’re a poet.’

‘Not exactly poetry. More like...lyrics?’

‘Oh?’

Not the most explicative but luckily Kat correctly interprets that simple noise as interest. ‘Music is my major. Together with history.’

‘Interesting combination.’

‘No prospects for either of them,’ Kat jokes.

‘So you write your own lyrics.’

‘And music.’

Did Cathy already mention how impressed she is? And curious? ‘What comes first?’

Now, Cathy doesn’t want to toot her own horn, but Kat does look pleasantly surprised by the question.

‘It depends. Music is more about inspiration. Words are…a way for me to express myself. Or Anne’s thoughts and feelings,’ she chuckles. ‘Lately I’ve been doing lyrics first, had a lot of work from her.’

‘You’re quite popular,’ Cathy comments out of the blue as yet another person passing by says hello.

‘Yeah.’ The reply is not particularly enthusiastic.

‘You’re more beautiful than I thought,’ Cathy blurts out, and if she was not cursing herself as soon as the words escaped her mouth, she is when she sees Kat’s face falling.

‘Sorry.’

‘It’s fine.’

It’s clearly not. Cathy feels like Kat is closing herself off.

‘I didn’t mean it like that.’

She had wanted to say something about her beauty being on pair with her beautiful mind but then thought it sounded too awkward.

‘No? So I’m not beautiful?’

‘No! What? No! I– God,’ Cathy stutters out, her panic blinding her to the fact that Kat is taking the mick. ‘Anna said–’

‘Anna said what?’

‘Oh man, I’m messing this up so badly!’ Cathy groans.

‘Messing up what?’

‘Asking you out?’

'Is it a question or a statement?’ Kat raises an eyebrow, amused. ‘What did Anna say?’ She adds on, curious. Her friend didn’t tell her anything.  

‘When Catalina started receiving notes, I was charmed. Then I was envious. And felt guilty because who is envious of their best friend??’ Cathy feels like she is getting the hang of explaining the whole thing.

‘You fancy Anne?’

‘No!’ Did Kat sound disappointed or is it just her wishful thinking? ‘I get why it looks like that. Anna thought the same. I thought I fancied Anne because I thought she was the one writing the notes. But she wasn’t. It was you. And I told Anna that I didn’t even know how you looked, but I liked your mind…and then realised how it sounded and asked her to never repeat it to anyone. And she said I should tell you because you might appreciate it? Being complimented about your brain rather than your looks?’

Cathy is thankful that in her blabbing she managed to at least leave out the part where they were spying on them. It will probably come out sooner or later, but at the moment the situation is embarrassing enough as it is without adding that.

‘Anna was right,’ it’s all Kat says, not fazed by the long rambling.

‘So you don’t think it’s weird that I sort of had a crush on your brain without ever having met you?’

‘Weirder than me writing love notes to the girl my cousin had a crush on?’

Cathy titters. Fair enough. ‘Was it weird for you? Or difficult?’

‘Eh,’ Kat shrugs. ‘I just thought about what I’d like to receive. Be told.’

‘I’m not really creative in that way.’ Cathy frowns slightly, before perking up. ‘But I’m great at research if words borrowed from other people are fine too?’

‘Well, that worked perfectly fine for Anne–’

‘So it could work for me too?’ Cathy asks hopeful.

‘Don’t know. Why don’t you try?’ Kat says coyly.

‘You mean I didn’t completely blow my chances?’

‘Chances at what?’

‘Taking you out on a date.’

‘Still have to hear an actual question.’

Cathy hesitates. The answer will be positive, right? Kat would not lead her on like this...right? Only one way to find out, she supposes. Cathy knows she will regret it if she doesn’t at least try.

‘Katherine…Kat…Will you give me the immense pleasure to allow me take you out on a date?’

‘Oh! We can go on double dates!’

Cathy wonders if Catalina will be upset if she kills Anne. From the exasperated and yet fond look she is sending to the girl, probably yes. And Kat would be too, if the bond that they share is even just half as strong as what other people say.

‘I’ll let you two get settled before showing you up.’ Kat seems unperturbed by Anne’s intrusion.

‘You should be worried,’ Catalina teases her girlfriend, ‘if her lovely notes are any indication, she got game.’

Kat winks at Catalina, before turning to Cathy, hand out, palm up. ‘Give me your phone.’

Cathy manages to fumble only a bit getting it out of her pocket.

‘In the immortal words of Santana Lopez,’ Anne announces once Kat has handed the phone back to Cathy, ‘gotta gay, gotta go.’

She gives Catalina a peck on the lips, before taking Kat’s hand and leaving.

‘It’s a yes to the date, by the way,’ Kat says loudly, turning her head, while walking away. This somehow prompts Anne to drop Kat’s hand, turn around, while keeping on walking backward, and shoot finger guns at them. She narrowly avoids tripping over a huge potted plant by the entrance, but only thanks to Kat yanking her out of the way in the nick of time.

Cathy and Catalina let out a synchronous sigh. They turn to look at each other. Understanding passes between them, even before it is vocalised.

‘What have we gotten ourselves into?’

[volturi-stuff]

Blood Moon

Demetri Volturi x fem!swan!reader

Warning: Angst?

A/N: WELCOME!!! My new series!! This takes place in the beginning of eclipse! This is very different then what I usually write!lemme know if ya wanna be on the taglist!♡

Y/N Swan, never felt like she had a true place in this world. Her family always ignored her, Bella mistreated her, and Charlie was always busy with trying to get Bella to feel loved, and feel wanted, he neglected you. You got the fact she was separated from her family, but you were too. You lived with Charlie, while Renè got Bella. That was the agreement, and you were fine with that. Everything was fine, up until Bella met Edward. Then the whole, Italy thing happened. You and Charlie were going ballistic waiting for her to call. But needless to say, you were furious at Edward.

You spent your nights alone in your room, binge watching teen wolf, or listening to music. You had no friends, but you really didn't care either. You preferred staying in.

It was a very quiet afternoon, a little too quiet. Charlie had gone off to work until nine twenty-four pm. You had time to kill, until he got off, like you always did. You decided to do your homework on your computer, you had a twenty five paged essay due tomorrow for English class, and Mr. Gibson, was a very strict teacher.

You changed into a hoodie and some black ripped leggings, topped with a orange beanie. Basically your everyday attire.

You sat in front of the computer and began your essay, when Bella basically busted in your door screaming like a lunatic.

"Y/N! You said what to Edward?!" She screamed in a high pitched annoying voice.

You simply told him to 'go find a nice ripe hole, crawl in it and die, like the worthless monster he is' for the way he treated Bells.

"Snitch told? Wow, okay." You said rolling your eyes. "I apologized, I didn't mean it to go that far, I was angry. You know I'm a pacifist, you know I don't mean harm." You calmly said typing up your English assignment. Even though it was hard to focus with her yelling.

"You had no right, Y/N! You ruined everything he thinks he isn't good enough for me even more now!" She yelled in frustration.

"As he should. He isn't good enough for you, I speak the truth, point blank periodt." You said continuing to type your paper.

"Yeah, you speak the truth, that's why you're gonna be alone forever, like you are now." Bella said spitefully, and then soon regretted it.

You looked at her with tears in your eyes, it had felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest. You knew your sister didn't really like you, but you never thought she'd say that. That was your biggest fear, and she knew it.

You got up closing your computer and pushing past her, grabbing your boots, and ran right out the front door.

"Y/N! I'm sorry! Don't leave, dad will be home soon!" Bella begged as she followed you outside. "It's dark!" She screamed.

"As if you care!" You yelled back.

You took off running down the street as fast as you possibly could, before she could see you cry. It was slightly raining making the weather more colder than it actually was. You had no clue where to go, as you had no where to go.

You hid in a dusty ally filled with crates behind your favorite coffee shop. You usually came here when you needed to get away. She was right, you were a nobody. You slid your back down the brick wall plopping on the wet ground covered in leaf's and twigs. That's when you broke down in tears sobbing.

That's also when you heard it, twigs snapping. You flung your head around to see a guy who looked as if he was a vampire as well, he looked nothing like the Cullens, he was tall, pale, and very nasty looking with dark red eyes. He had stubble on his face, as well as a nasty grin.

You moved and tried running away, but he had other plans, in a swift quick movement, he threw you to the other end of the ally, your back hitting the brick quite hard, a loud scream escaped your lips as you fell to the ground with a thud.

He then leaned down in front of you and whispered, "This is from Victoria." His voice was deep and raspy, you had the urge to vomit as soon as he opened his mouth. And your last dying thought was, how this was Bella's fault. You were about to die and it was her fault. You didn't wanna go out like this, you tried pepper spraying him in the eyes but that did nothing. It just made him more angry.

He leaned in and bit your leg. You screamed in pain and felt a burning sensation go throughout your body. But just as your vision went blurry, he was viciously yanked away by someone much taller and leaner than the other vampire.

But the only thing you could hear was your screams and sobs. The agony spreading throughout your body was unbearably painful. Undoubtedly the worst pain you've ever felt.

The man then crouched next to you, just a few seconds later, and whispered, "It's okay Amore, I'm gonna make it stop." He whispered in a thick accent that made you feel a fluttery feeling, even with the pain. And with his promise, he then began sucking the venom out of your leg. You screamed loudly again in pain, but the pain soon faded. It barely hurt now, you were just left with a dizzy feeling. He quickly pulled away making sure you were still okay.

His presence alone made you feel safer, like you were wanted, like there was a true plan for you, other than the painful loneliness that was your horrible life.

"It's okay, you're okay, let's get you to the hospital." He whispered as he wrapped a cloak around you, instantly making you warmer, "May I pick you up?" He whispered again in his gentle accent. You nodded and winced quickly after. And with your permission he gently picked you up in his cold arms. You rested your head on his chest trying to forget about the pain and events that had occurred before. He ran you to the hospital in a blink of a eye.

you felt very safe, and very drawn to this stranger. Like it was fate he found you. The words just slipped out, "M-My angel.." You whisper mumbled, and the next thing you know, everything around you got extremely blurry and you passed out.

Demetri's pov:

I dropped her off at the hospital, but left my cloak on her hospital bed. For the first time, I didn't care about anything else except for her safety. It took every fiber in my body to stop from killing her. It wasn't without difficulty, but I managed to somehow do it. I was going to meet with the rest of the coven, hoping they wouldn't notice my disappearance.

That's when I saw Scarlett, outside the hospital. She was wearing her usual, black and gold cloak with her hood up to keep from getting seen by any humans. "Uh, Excuse me? Excuse you! What are you doing Demetrius? My father won't be happy about you saving some random human!" She said in a annoyed tone.

"Aro, can deal. She is my mate. You would do the same if that were Jane!" I said and took off running towards the rest of the coven. She stood there glaring for a second, before following close behind me.

"What took so long?" Jane said emotionless as always.

I looked at Scarlett with pleading eyes. I knew that if Aro got word of her, he would kill her for being human.

Scarlett smirked and kissed Jane on her cheek, "Demetri got thirsty, we fed." She looked back at me and mouthed, 'you owe me' I kindly nodded my head. I'd do anything for her, as long as she didn't tell. I did owe her big time.

"Mhm, Well..." Jane looked at Scarlett, and ever so slightly twitched her lip up into a slight smirk, and back at the chaos we were dealing with in Seattle. "We have a bigger problem, then Demetri's thirst."

I let out a unesasary sigh, thanks to Scarlett, I had time to come up with a idea on how to hide her from the Volturi. This definitely wouldn't be a easy thing to do, but I had to try.

[roonilwazlibimagines]

Worst of You - Sirius Black Imagine

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader Word Count: 3.6k Blurb: Sirius continues to treat her badly, but she is so in love with him it doesn’t matter. Based on ‘Worst of You’ by Maisie Peters A/N: Toxic relationship, a few swears

Masterlist

“I can’t believe you!” She stormed in front of him as she made her way to his dormitory.

“You can’t believe me? How do you think I feel?” His voice was louder than hers, it always was. 

“How do you think I feel?” Her voice was shrill and he was glad her back was towards him; the roll of his eyes only would have made her madder. 

“You always do this.” He slammed the door behind him as they walked into this dormitory. No one would dare to enter. 

“Only because you make me.” She was tense and she knew it was wrong to accuse him. He probably had a valid excuse. 

“Why do I always get the blame for this?” His voice was still booming and as she sat down on his bed and let out a large sigh he started to regret allowing his voice to get so loud.

“Because you always do this to me Sirius. You always ignore me and it’s embarrassing. It seems everyone notices but you.” He sat down next to her and also let out a sigh. 

“I’m sorry, love. I just really wanted to talk to James about our next quidditch match.” 

“But you always do it.” She pouted her lip and Sirius kissed her gently. 

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m an idiot. I promise next time it’ll be different.” He wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. 

“Thank you.” She looked up at him and as he smiled back down she had forgotten what had made her mad in the first place. 

“Shall we go back down?” He removed his arm from her waist and she stood up and followed him out of the room. 

“How did it go?” Lily already knew the answer. 

“Good, he promised not to do it again.” She smiled brightly as Lily attempted to give a reassuring smile. 

The two of them along with James and Sirius had a free period to start their day and as the other two left for class, they moved closer to each other. The conversation began again and she grabbed Sirius’ hand smiling up at him. As James and Lily began their own conversation she attempted to start her own with Sirius. 

“Did I tell you about how I ruined my robes?” 

“Yes.” He sighed as he took his hand away from hers to rest his chin upon. 

“What about my potions essay that I realised I had done completely wrong right before I handed it in?” She was smiling up at him and she took his lack of an answer as a no and began her story. 

Halfway through her story Sirius began to laugh and not knowing what was so funny about Professor Slughorn giving her an extra day to complete her essay she stopped and looked at him confused. 

“James you are a git.” He couldn’t stop laughing and she admired the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed. She watched him get into the conversation story and the excitement in his voice was enough to stop any anger. 

“Are you two going to the party this weekend?” Sirius beamed at James’ question.

“Of course I am.” He loved to party. 

“I don’t know.” She did not like to party.

“Oh come on love, it will be fun.” He said that every time. 

“I never have fun.” He always leaves her by herself. 

“I promise we’ll have the best time, together.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and she leaned into his chest. 

“You always say that.” She let out a large sigh.

“Because I’m a good boyfriend.” He chuckled and she playfully rolled her eyes. 

“Do you promise?” She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

“I promise.” Surely this time she wouldn’t leave embarrassed and all alone. 

                                                         ...

“Are you not going to write anything?” Although he was whispering she could still hear Remus’ question while she attempted to get everything down. 

“No.” He scoffed and sat back in his chair. 

“Why?” She saw him give Sirius a confused look. 

“Love, will you please share your notes with me?” She was about to roll her eyes at him and tell him that he should have been taking notes instead of relying on her, but then she saw the worried look on his face and the little lines on his forehead and instead, she smiled at him. 

“Of course.” He thanked her and she couldn’t help but stare as his face changed to a look of relief. 

“That’s why.” She didn’t hear his response to Remus. She didn’t see the smirk or the way he nudged his shoulder. She didn’t notice Remus shaking his head or the way Sirius chuckled down at her. How could she when she was still caught up in the way Sirius looked at her?

“You’re so smart.” He placed his head in his palm and stared at her making her blush. 

“Thank you.” She smiled at him as she continued to write her notes.

“What are you doing this afternoon?” His stare remained. 

“I think I’m going to the library, I have a few things to catch up on.” She glanced up at him and couldn't stop the smile forming on her face. 

“I’ll come too, I have a transfiguration worksheet to do.” She nodded and went back to writing notes. 

“I’ll meet you at the library at four.” She smiled as she walked to her next class. 

“I’ll be there.” He winked at her and she had to look away. 

                                                        ...

She was there with five minutes to spare. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t there at fifteen minutes past and there was no sign of him thirty minutes after they arranged to meet. At a quarter to five she heard someone walk in.

“Hi love.” He stood in front of the desk. She went to yell at him, tell him he was late and he always does this, but she could tell he was excited and she wanted to know why. 

“What’s wrong?” Her anger vanished. 

“James and I were just talking about an idea and I really wanted to work on it so we could finish it tonight.” He was talking very fast.

“Is that why you are late?” She tried not to sound accusing. 

“Remember that transfiguration worksheet I told you about? Is it okay if you do it for me? I’m sorry I just really want to work on this and I knew you were already doing homework.” He ignored her question and pulled the parchment out of his bag. 

“Uh, sure.” He pushed the sheet in front of her. 

“Thank you so much love, I’ll see you at dinner.” He was gone just as quickly as he came. She sighed as she looked down at the sheets in front of her. He forgot to mention there was more than one. 

                                                        ...

As she walked in the common room she was met with him and Remus sitting on the lounge in front of the fire. 

“I finished it.” Sirius beamed when he saw her and stood up to give her a hug. 

“Thank you so much my love.” He took it out of her hands and looked at the finished work. 

“I can’t believe you did that for him.” Remus tried not to sound bitter. 

“Well he wanted to be with James, so it’s fine.” She shrugged her shoulders as Remus gave her a sad smile. She didn’t hear Remus ask where James was and she didn’t see Sirius kick his shin or hear Remus groan. H

“Shall we go to dinner then?” Sirius looked at the two of them giving Remus an odd look. 

                                                        ...

“What about you? You’ve been quiet for most of the night.” Remus nudged her shoulder as she pulled her gaze away from Sirius. 

“What about me?” If she was being honest she didn’t really know what they were talking about

“Are you even coming to the party?” Lily asked her.

“Uh, yeah.” She looked at Sirius hoping he would say something. Everyone smiled at her response and this time she didn’t miss Sirius’ scoff. 

“What?” She looked at him in confusion and tried to grab his hand under the table. 

“You’ll be there for a whole half hour.” His hand remained flat on his thigh.

“What is that meant to mean?” She knew exactly what it meant.

“I mean, I always have to drag you to a party and every time you don’t enjoy it and then get mad at me for enjoying myself.” Everyone began to focus on their food. 

“Get mad at you for enjoying yourself?”

“Yeah.” 

“I don’t get angry at you for enjoying yourself. I get angry at you for ignoring me the whole night.” Maybe she shouldn't expect him to be with her the whole night. 

“Well maybe I don’t want to be around my clingy girlfriend the whole night.” Her mouth moved faster than her brain. 

“Well then maybe you don’t need a girlfriend at all.” She stood up and stormed off. 

She walked into the Common Room and turned around when she didn’t hear the door close, scoffing when she saw who it was and almost running to her dormitory. 

“Wait.” He grabbed her arm and she was forced to face him. 

“What?” She hated how sad he looked. 

“I didn’t mean it.” He looked down and she sighed. 

“You always do this to me.” Her voice was shaky and hot tears of embarrassment threatened to fall.

“I know and I promise I won’t do it again.” His voice was desperate and she hated how it pained her. 

“You always say that and I fall for it everytime!” She pulled her wrist out of his hand and sat on the lounge. 

“I know, but you have to hear me out. I hate seeing you by yourself having the worst time while I’m having fun. I just want you to relax and enjoy yourself.” He grabbed her hand and she didn’t pull away. 

“I’m sorry.” Her breathing was uneven and she kept sniffling. 

“It’s okay love.” He pulled her into her chest and she tried to stop crying. 

“I’ll come to the party.” He kissed the top of her head. “And I promise I’ll enjoy myself.” He hugged her tighter. 

                                                        ...

“Hey, Sirius,’ her hand suddenly became cold as he pulled away to turn around, ‘did you finish that transfiguration worksheet?” She couldn’t help the way her lips twitched as she smiled. 

“I’m assuming you didn’t?” She mimicked Marlene’s giggle, envying the way her small and cute nose scrunched up. 

“I’m offended you think that.” 

“Here, I’ll give you mine,” he searched through his papers, “but you owe me.” As she looked between them she missed the wink he gave her and the way she bit her lip before they continued walking to class. 

                                                        ...

“Can you please pass me the acromantula blood venom?” Dramatic as always, his sigh filled her ears as he grumbled something she couldn’t make out. Without even looking at what Sirius had given her she poured it in, ready to apologise before the smell of smoke surrounded them and a shrill shriek left her mouth. 

“Are you serious?” Sirius’ booming voice made her heart drop as she realised the potion had exploded. Slughorn allowed them to go to the bathroom to clean up and she raced to keep up with him. 

“Sirius.” She was trying to wipe the potion away from her eyes. “Sirius.” She had to walk double her speed to catch up and as she went to say his name for a third time he cut her off turning around and replying sharply, “What.”

“I’m sorry.” Her tone contrasted to his and she tried to stop the tears as he scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

“Do you know how embarrassing that was?” His teeth were gritted and as he seethed she flinched away. 

“Well maybe if you had passed me the right ingredient.” She rolled her eyes back. 

“Maybe if you were paying attention to what you were doing.” He was trying to remove the potion from his hair. 

“Maybe if you actually helped me instead of making me do all the work.” His jaw clenched and before he walked away he sharply replied, “I cannot be fighting with you about this.” “Are you seriously walking away from me?” She tried to catch up. 

“Yep.” He didn’t look back. 

“Sirius, stop.” But her feet stopped moving and all she could do was stare in disbelief. She composed herself as she walked to the bathroom to clean up. He was just upset that the potion exploded. It was her fault anyway. 

“Hey, are you okay? Sirius seemed really angry.” James had already organised her things and were passing them to her as she entered the classroom to retrieve her books. 

“It’s fine, it was just a bit embarrassing.” She laughed it off. 

“Are you sure? When he came back he wouldn’t talk to us.” 

“That’s just Sirius, you know how he is,” James laughed awkwardly,  “and besides, it was my fault.” She ignored the concerned look James gave her. 

                                                        ...

At dinner there was no seat saved for her. She sat besides Lily and across from Remus. Sirius was two seats and across from her making it impossible to apologise. 

“So I heard you guys had an incident in potions?” Peter snickered as James’ head hit his palm. He stared right at her and the intensity of his gaze made her look down. 

“Yeah, it was my fault, I guess I’m not very good at potions.” She shrugged her shoulders and played with her food. She didn’t miss Sirius’ scoff, but she couldn’t hear what he muttered under his breath. “Sorry, did you say something?” 

“It wasn’t to you.” He smiled sarcastically at her and she knew she was making it worse. 

“Sorry, it’s just that you had a lot to say to me before and I just assumed-” She trailed off as he stood up and stormed out. She stood up instantly and followed him to the Common Room. 

“Did you not understand that me storming away was a sign I didn’t want to speak to you?” He stopped walking allowing her to grab his wrist. 

“I’m sorry, what more do you want?”

“Well you don’t sound sorry.” His jaw was clenched but the fire was making his eyes sparkle again and she suddenly forgot everything she wanted to say. 

“I really am, I should have been more focused and I know how it embarrassed you, maybe you should get a new partner.” Her voice was now soft and letting go of his wrist she suddenly couldn’t look him in the eyes. 

“I’m glad you understand,” he kissed the top of her head, “but why would I want a new potions partner when this one gets me the top marks?” He smirked at her and she kissed him. 

“Thank you, I couldn’t imagine having a different partner.” She giggled as he held her close to his chest and she was bursting with love and adoration for the boy in front of her. She wanted this moment to last forever. 

                                                        ...

“You cheater!” The voice was soft and her heart tugged when she heard the familiar deep laugh. She made her way over to the four sitting on the Common Room floor. 

“I am offended.” Despite his back towards her she could see the hand he put on his chest as Marlene softly punched his shoulder. 

“Hi.” She stood there with her arms crossed as James and Lily greeted her making Sirius and Marene turn around. 

“How was the library?” Sirius and Marlene turned around again as Lily questioned her. 

“I finished the essay!” 

“See I knew you could do it, I’ll copy it off you tomorrow.” Sirius smiled at her and she was so focused on how soft Sirius’ lips looked she didn’t even notice how James rolled his eyes. 

She went to sit next to Sirius and tried to ignore the way he moved closer to Marlene. “Are you playing?” James was dealing the cards. 

“It’s better if there are four players, the cards are distributed more equally.” She couldn’t help but stare at the way his lips moved when he talked. 

“Do you want to play?” James asked again, directing it at her. 

“No it’s okay.” She shrugged her shoulders. She wasn’t too keen on playing exploding snap and at least this way she was able to watch Sirius and notice the way he bit his lip whenever he was about to win and the way he seemed to beam whenever he did. 

                                                        ...

“For the hundredth time, I’m sorry.” She chose to ignore his eye roll and let out a huff. 

“You promised.” She was glad they were in his dorm so no one could hear them. 

“And things changed, I can’t help it.” They were millimeters away from each other. 

“This always happens.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” His voice rose. 

“It shouldn’t be that hard to be there for your girlfriend.” She grabbed her things and walked out without letting him get a word in. Breathing heavily she made her way to her dorm. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.” She grumbled out an answer as she threw her things and herself on the bed. She felt Lily’s hands on her back as the bed dipped. 

“Is it Sirius?” 

“No,” she replied too quickly, “It’s fine.” She got herself up and asked Lily to help her get ready for the party tonight. It didn’t matter that Sirius was going to get excessively drunk or wasn’t going to go in with her. 

                                                        ...

“You look amazing.” Lily was beaming as they finished getting ready but she could only give a small smile in return. “You know,” she took a deep breath, “we are a bit concerned about you and Sirius.”

“We are fine, Lily.” Through gritted teeth she replied instantly. 

“Why isn’t he waiting for you then like he promised?” 

“He doesn’t need to be with me all the time, it’s just a party.” A wave of guilt waved over her as she rolled her eyes. 

“But-”

“Lily, let’s just go.” They made their way downstairs and found their way to the Marauders, minus Sirius. The room was dark and the Common Room was as loud as ever. She attempted to locate him in the mix of students, but she struggled to see. She attempted to make conversation with the rest of the Marauders, but found herself too distracted trying to locate her boyfriend. She didn’t want to fight with him anymore, ever again. 

“Are you okay?” She couldn’t look Remus in the eye. She had found Sirius. He was in the corner with Marlene. Kissing Marlene. 

“Uh, yeah.” She quickly looked at Remus and gave him a reassuring smile. It was dark, she probably saw wrong. They were probably drunk. There was no need to make a big deal out of it. But Remus was not assured and as he looked over to where she was staring he understood. He was at a loss for words as he looked at her stare at Sirius with an empty expression missing the way her eyes slightly widened as Sirius finally made eye contact with her. Neither drew their eyes away from each other. She expected him to walk over, apologise and beg for her forgiveness, but her heart dropped as he walked over to James without acknowledging her. 

“Do you mind getting me a drink?” She remembered Remus was there and put on a smile as she nodded and went to get him a drink allowing her to miss the conversation between Remus and Sirius. 

“What the fuck?” Remus pulled on Sirius’ shoulder with so much force it made James jump to defend Sirius. 

“What?” The hurt in Sirius’ face almost made Remus feel bad. 

“How could you do that to her?” 

“What is going on?” James stood in between his two friends hoping to defuse something that was soon going to explode. 

“He kissed Marlene.” 

“So?”

“Sirius.” The rest of the Marauders and Lily looked at him in disappointment. 

“She saw.” 

“You can’t keep treating her like this.” Everyone was turned to Sirius and they struggled to look him in the eye. 

“What do you want me to do?” He sighed and dramatically motioned his arms. There was a lack of sincerity in his voice. 

“You need to talk to her.” As Remus finished he turned around to find her with his drink and he wondered how long she had been there. 

“Of course.” No one heard what Sirius said under his breath, but they saw him roll his eyes. James gave him a look which made him shake his head and sigh and he grabbed her hand and walked her to his dorm. 

“Sirius.” The calmness of her voice shocked him, but it only made him more angry. 

“What?” She flinched at his harsh tone. 

“Why did you bring me here?”

“To talk.” She wanted to hear him say it. 

“About what?” He paused. 

“I kissed Marlene.” 

“I know.” 

“I was drunk, I mean I still am, but I’m sobering up now and-”

“It’s okay.” She put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Why aren’t you angry? You should be yelling at me and screaming and…” They both knew how it finished. 

“Fighting doesn’t help anything.” The sincerity in her eyes made his heart skip a beat. 

“But I technically cheated, shouldn’t you want to break up with me?”

“No.” Her voice became louder. He smiled down at her and tried to relax his shoulders under her touch. “I love you too much,” he leaned down to kiss her, “we can make this work. We always do.” 

“I love you. You are too good for me.” She smiled into the kiss and although she could taste the lipstick she was just grateful they weren’t fighting anymore.

[hopeless-starry-kingdom]

you broke me first | Peter Parker

Summary: You have to remind Peter it was his fault you were broken up

read part 1 and 2 here !

song: you broke me first by Tate McRae 

a/n: happy valentines day!! hope everyone’s day was good and here is the last part of this mini series :))))

Maybe you don't like talking too much about yourself

But you shoulda told me that your were thinking ‘bout someone else

“If you guys are going to make out can you at least do it somewhere else. I’m eating.” MJ put her book back to her eye level as you and Harry pulled away from each other. You blushed and Harry smirked before throwing an arm over your shoulder.

“C’mon, MJ. Don’t be such a cockblock.” You slapped Harry on his arm and he laughed. “If you want I can set you up with one of my friends.”

MJ put her book down and pretended to think about the offer. “A rich daddy’s boy with two functional brain cells, who’s also a fuckboy. I’ll pass” She smiled sarcastically at Harry and he chuckled.

“Have I ever mentioned I like your friends?” You giggled at him and shook your head. MJ flipped him off and you had to bite back your laugh.

“Stop patronizing her.” You tried to be stern but the smirk on Harry’s face paired with MJ lips twitching up didn’t help your case. “Yes madame.”

Or your phones been off for a couple months, so you’re callin’ me now

He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours before turning back to eat his lunch. You smile was big as you stared at him but something caught your attention. From behind him you saw Peter, Gwen, and Ned walking. Gwen had her arm wrapped around Peter’s arm. Ned was talking to Gwen about something and Peter was already staring at you. You gave him a small smile and a head nod before turning back to your small group.

“Hey, did Mr. Harrington ever say when the essay was due?”

“I cant keep going. My brain is fried.” You groaned as you flopped down on MJ’s bed and rested your arms over your eyes to block the light from coming in.

“Yeah, i’m pretty burnt too. You hungry? I can order some pizza.”

“Please?” You begged and sat up as MJ was looking for the number on her phone your phone buzzed with a message. It was Harry.

Can you come over tomorrow? I wanna spend time with you <3

You bit your lip go hide to hide the smile that was threatening to come through. Harry was always so sweet with you. He had a cocky front that he showed everyone else, sometimes with you as well. But you knew deep down he was a teddy bear. Texts like this showed that. And even though Harry explained to you that his father never showed him love, and continues not to, he doesn’t see a reason not to show love.

But I ran out of every reason

“Hey, can you please stop sexting Harry? I’m trying to hang out with you.” A pillow collided with your face and you gasped.

“MJ! I’m not sexting Harry. He wants to know if I can hang out tomorrow. It’s sweet.” You quickly responded back to his text and told him you could.

“You two are disgustingly cute. It makes me sick. And tell him to stop hogging you, I feel like he’s always with you. Does he not know he has to share?” You threw your head back and laughed at her.

“So now i’m an object of sharing? Nice to know.” You laughed and soon MJ was joining in with you.

Took a while, I was in denial when I first heard

That you moved on quicker than I coulda ever, you know that hurt

“I’m happy for you, Y/N. I know the whole thing with Peter had you in a funk..” You looked down at your hands and nodded. You still thought about Peter often. Soley because you had him in some of your classes and you constantly saw him around school. But you never thought of him like you used to. You stopped loving the way his smile reached his eyes and lit up the whole room. You stopped loving his curls. You stopped loving his unconditional kindness.

It was over now, officially. You weren’t hurting anymore and it felt so amazing to say it. The storm had passed and had taken Peter Parker with it. You were happy now with Harry. So extremely happy. You didn’t actually think it was possible but after giving the relationship a chance, you couldn’t believe how happy you were with Harry.

You never wanted to depend your happiness on soley being in a relationship. You were better than that. But you were finding you were happy by yourself and with Harry. It was the best middle ground. You thought you had to depend on Peter or a relationship to be content. And it definitely wasn’t true.

“I’m just glad that it’s all over with. And Peter was an asshole to you.” You both laughed at her statement.

“Yeah, i’m glad it’s over too.” She smiled at you before tapping a button on her phone.

“Hi, I’d like to place an order for delivery.”

Swear, for awhile, I would stare at my phone just to see your name

Gwen Stacy gasped as she read the note that fell out of her locker. It was the fourth one this week. And she couldn’t count how many she got over all. Apparently she was a dirty two-faced snake. She preached girl supporting girls but to everyone else she stole someone’s boyfriend which didn’t exactly sit right with the girls of the school. Gwen didn’t mean for it to happen and she tried explaining it to some of the girls in her art class but they just rolled their eyes at her.

“Another one? Let me see.” Peter grabbed the note and read over it before tearing to to shreds.

“Yes, another one Peter. In fact the fourth one this week. And maybe if i’m lucky i’ll get one tomorrow and see what else the girls have to say about me in the girls restroom. I can’t keep doing this Peter.” Gwen slammed her locker and held her head in her hands.

“Ok, well i’ll go talk to Mr. Harrington. Or even the principal. I’ll tell them that it’s been getting out of hand and—”

“No, Peter. That’s not what I mean. I mean I can’t do this. Us.” Gwen crossed her arms over her chest and refused to look at Peter because she knew if she did she’d melt.

“W-what? Gwen, what do mean?”

“Peter I cant keep living like this! People hate me all because you broke Y/N’s heart. And I can’t blame them either becuase you left her for me, you broke the poor girl. I’d hate me too.”

“They’ll get over it! It’s none of their buisness.” He reached over and tried to grab the girls hands but she instantly pulled away.

“Peter, I really like you. I do. But with college applications coming up and school’s scouting, I can’t risk letting this affect me getting into NYU. I don’t have the time for petty school drama.”

“Gwen, cmon. Please, I really like you too. I can figure something out.” He pleaded. He couldn’t let Gwen go, not after everything that happened with you.

“I’m sorry, Pete. I really am.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek before smiling sadly at him. She turned with her books in her hand and walked away.

Peter groaned and kicked the locker next to him. It created a dent and some people began to whisper and point. He sighed before walking to his first class.

‘Did you hear what happened????’

You furrowed yourself brows at MJ’s text. You quickly looked up and seen your teacher pointing to the board and explaining today’s lesson. You placed your phone in your lap as you typed back a response.

‘Hear what? Did Flash trip and fall into the trash again?’

You looked up again and pretended to take notes and waited for her to text back. Once you felt your phone buzz your eyes nearly bulged out of your head

‘No! Though that would make my day— Gwen broke up with Peter! Some junior over heard it from their locker and started to spread it. That’ll show him!’

You gulped as you put your phone away and stared ahead. Peter no longer had Gwen. Peter no longer had the girl he left you for. She ended it with him. You had a mix of emotions. For one you wanted to rub your relationship in his face. He left you for someone and now they broke up with him.

You couldn’t believe how much it back fired on him. You wanted to laugh in his face and call him a huge idiot. You wouldn’t ever dare think of leaving him. He got his karma.

But you also felt a little sad for him. Gwen broke up with him. You couldn’t imagine how upset and sad he was feeling. But you couldn’t shake the feeling of it being his fault. Becuase maybe it was.

The rest of the week was filled with gossip about Peter being dumped by Gwen. The girls said he deserved it but also thought it didn’t excuse Gwen either. She noticed she still got stared in the hall but the whispers stopped and so did the writing in the restroom. It was a start.

They scoffed at Peter and made sure to give him a dirty look. Peter wasn’t feeling too good either. He couldn’t belive he lost you and Gwen. Ned tried to reasure him that it wasn’t meant to be. All Peter did was smile and nod. And then he saw you smiling and laughing with Harry. Living your best life and he felt jealous and angry. Jealous and angry that you were happy without him. And jealous and angry that Harry was the one to kiss you and give you hugs from behind.

That should be me.

He hated himself for thinking that. He broke up with you. He left you. So why was he thinking about you like he had in the past? It dawned on him for the next few days that letting you go was a mistake. He didn’t actually like Gwen, he liked the idea of her. The popular, girl next door version of Gwen Stacy is what he liked. Sure, Gwen was funny and nice and smart but so were you. And much more in his opinion.

He was an idiot who let you go because he liked the idea of someone. He chose that over loving you.

“The blood drive took way longer than I thought.” You pressed your phone against your ear with your shoulder as you began to enter your locker combination.

“Well saving lives isn’t a two second process miss Y/L/N.” You rolled your eyes at Harry being sarcastic.

“I can’t believe your missing school to attend one of your dads meeting in the Upper East Side.” Harry chuckled and shrugged.

“What can I say? I’m a buisness man too.” Harry’s father glared at him as they walked in the halls of the conference room. He knew that was his way of telling Harry to get off the phone.

“Hey, babe. I have to go, the meetings starting soon. I’ll see you tomorrow. Stay safe.”

“Bye, Harry. See you.” You smiled as you hung up the phone and pocketed your phone. You were excused for two of your class periods and now had to be at your next one as the bell rang. You quickly grabbed the books you needed and slammed the locker shut. You gasped in surprise when you seen who was behind the locker.

“Peter? Um, what are you doing?” You looked around anxiously to see if any other students noticed you and the curly haired boy standing within a few feet of each other. They had.

“H-how are you?”

“I’m good? Do you need something? I have physics next and—”

“Your teacher will kill you if you’re late.” He chuckled as he nervously twiddled his fingers. You didn’t laugh though. “How-How’s being able to drive now? I bet it feels like you have a ton of freedom.”

“Peter, i’m sorry if this sounds rude but what do you want? You’ve made it pretty clear these past few months you don’t want anything to do with me. So what do you need? Is this about you being you-know-who?” You whispered the last part to make sure no one heard. “I promise I won’t tell Harry or anyone else.”

“No! It’s not that it’s... Okay I know this might sound so crazy and insane but please, just hear me out.” He had his puppy dog eyes on and you couldn’t ever resist them. What was a few minutes?

“You have like two minutes before I have to go.” You glanced at your phone for the time.

“Okay, sweet. First off I want to say how sorry I am for the way I treated you, Y/N. It was so shitty and I just tossed you to the side. I will never be able to forgive myself for that but I was hoping... maybe you can?”

You smiled at the boy once you realized what he was doing. He was giving you a formal apology. Though it was long over due you knew you couldn’t hold a grudge against him. You just weren’t that person. And you were finally over Peter. It was all working out.

“Of course, I can forgive you, Peter. Thank you for apologizing. It does mean a lot. Well i’ll see you around?” Peter’s brows furrowed before quickly shaking his head.

“Wait that’s not all.” Your looked at him quizzically and urged him to continue. “I was wondering I-if you’d like to give us, me and you, another try. At dating, of course.” He smiled at you and suddenly you were no longer smiling. You took a step back as you stared at him in disbelief.

How dare he? How dare he break your heart and then come running back to you the moment Gwen breaks up with him. You were his second choice and that hurt. And to top it off, you were with Harry, happily.

“How dare you, Peter Parker?” Peter gulped as he recognized the anger and disappointment in your tone.

“Becuase shit isn’t going your way, you think this is okay?” You voice was now raised and now suddenly everyone in the hall turned to face you two.

“Y/N, please. Just let me explain—”

“Now suddenly you’re asking for me back? Could you tell me where’d you get the nerve?” You spit and Peter didn’t think he’d ever seen you so mad.

“I made a huge mistake. I miss you. I miss us.” He tried pleading but you scoffed

“You can say you miss all that we had but I don’t really care how bad you’re hurting, Peter. Not when you broke me first.”

There were tears in your eyes and your heart was heavy. How could he do this to you? You were over him now and then he comes and pull this stunt. You were also very angry.

“Y/N, please. I—”

“I don’t want to heart it, Parker! Leave me alone! I mean it, Peter. Don’t talk to me anymore, don’t look at me in the halls or in our classes. Don’t even think about me. It’s over Peter. Find your dignity while you’re at it.” You spat and purposely pushed his shoulder roughly with yours.

You tried to ignore the whispers as you started to speed walk to the nearest restroom, your class long forgotten.

You tried to hold in your sob as your thoughts began to eat you alive. But you couldn’t hold back as it pried its way to the surface. You didn’t care about if the floor was dirty as you slid down to hug your knees. All you could think was screw Peter Parker. This wasn’t the Peter you knew. Peter would never publicly humiliate you and turn you into a joke. But he did.

What did you think would happen?

I’ll never let you have it

What did you think would happen?

You had to remind yourself that he in fact did do those things. You were a game to Peter, it seemed. His second choice. And it hurt, you hate to admit that it hurt.

“Y/N.” MJ walked into the bathroom and sighed when she saw you on the floor.

“I-Is the whole sch-school talking ab-about me?” You hiccuped and she placed a hand on your knee and gently rubbed her hand back and forth.

“The only thing they’re saying is how Peter’s a jackass and you don’t deserve that.” You sighed and nodded and tried to brush your tears away.

“I just can’t believe he would d-do this to me. It’s like i’m a jo-joke.” You sniffled and MJ scoffed. “He’s such a dick. Once I get my hands on him—”

“No, MJ. It’s fine. I gave him a piece of my mind already.” You smiled weakly at her and she helped you off the floor. She shook her head with a scowl and then snorted.

“What?”

“Once Harry hears about his little stunt, Peter is done for.”

Your eyes widened as you thought about Harry. He tolerated Peter because of you and once he hears what happened, you have a good idea what he’d do.

“My god, I have to call him. But he’s in a stupid high class professional meeting.” You whipped out your phone and went to his contact. You couldn’t call him but you thought a text should be enough until you see him later.

‘Don’t freak out...Peter asked me out again

BUT!!!! I obviously said no and handled to situation!

So when you come to school tomorrow and hear about the drama pls don’t pummel Peters face in ??? <3’

“Hm. That should hold him off. Let’s skip class and go watch the cheerleaders fall from their pyramid.” You tried to keep a straight face but ended up laughing.

“Yeah, i’m down for that.” MJ smiled at you and started to walk out of the bathroom.

You sighed and thought about if Peter was hurting right now. But then you shook your head.

But I don’t really care how bad it hurts

When you broke me first

He broke you first and now he had to deal with the aftermath, not you.

[ayellowcurtain]

robbe and sander having a class together and getting paired up for a project, involving watching a movie (points if its Romeo + Juliet) and they start off watching on opposite sides of the couch and gradually get closer but are both trying not to be obvious about it but end up cuddled up by the end of the movie? And they pause the movie throughout to talk and get to know each other and draw out their time together as much as possible?

Sander is trying very hard not to laugh or smile or even snort leading them to the living room, trying to ignore the silence that’s louder than anything he could do to make this less awkward.

Life really likes to play tricks on him. Their teacher had a whole class room to pick and put together for this final project for the semester and, of course, Robbe was chosen to work with Sander. Of all people, it had to be Robbe IJzermans.

Maybe, just maybe, Sander likes to make his own life harder sometimes. He didn’t have to go after Robbe that night, and he really didn’t need to kiss him again when nobody was watching.

His girlfriend was still mad inside and he went back to fix that after but he couldn’t miss the opportunity to kiss that cute boy again, for real this time, not thinking about how many people were around them, clapping and screaming. It was just them for a minute, and Sander liked that kiss a little too much.

It’s wasn’t a dare anymore, there wasn’t all their friends - and girlfriend - gather around, waiting if they would have the balls to do it or not. Sander will never forget opening his eyes to meet Robbe with his still closed, a little dazed still. Sander left one last kiss on his lips because they were right there. Sander was never as happy and excited as he was in that moment and he know that Robbe enjoyed it too.

Sure, he was pissed when Sander followed him outside because he saw Britt’s and her scene in the kitchen with Sander afterward but he was smiling when Sander left that last kiss on his lips.

They didn’t talk after that night because there was not much to talk about, they were still riding that “it was a drunk kiss during truth or dare” excuse. The drama dragged between them for weeks anyway, Sander couldn’t look at Robbe walking down the hallway with Jens that Britt would already start complaining about it.

In the same week that he broke up with Britt, he was paired to work with Robbe.

And now they were alone.

They had this movie to watch, write an essay about it, and use their insights from the movie to make their own art with it.

“Jens told me you’re good with making videos.” Sander tries to start a normal conversation, knowing well he’s not able to hide his smile any longer.

Robbe looks around at all the popcorn Sander’s mom made for them before leaving for her dinner date with her coworkers. He notices the can sodas in the coffee table too, the salt and pepper right next to it. Only after noticing every cliche thing Sander’s mom set up for their “movie night” that Robbe looks at him and rolls his eyes quietly when he notices the dumb smile.

“I can edit and make some videos.” He says shyly and Sander sighs, thinking of how he doesn’t need to get himself into another romance right away.

“That’s cool. I make dumb videos but definitely not good enough to use for anything. It’s just a very dumb hobby, very personal too.”

Robbe nods his head, awkwardly sitting on the tip of the couch, putting his hands on his knees, clear as the day that this is not at all comfortable.

“You can sit back and relax.” Sander snorts, pointing to the huge couch he has on the living room, way too big for the space but his dad likes to act like they have a movie theater instead of a normal living space. Robbe looks even smaller sitting on it, and he’s way too cute, “I won’t bite.”

Sander thinks out loud but from what he can see in the corner of his eyes, it doesn’t go unnoticed as Robbe huffs as he pushes himself back until he can relax against the backrest, his legs streched all the way, still not close to the edge of the couch.

He waits until the boy is comfortable, distracted with his phone and he grabs the controllers, closing the curtains and turning the tv on, making sure to sit as far away from Robbe as possible.

Robbe looks over his shoulders, watching the curtains close with the touch of a button and Sander watches him quietly, not sure if he wants to start the movie already, put a limit to their time together.

“I like drawing.” He says even though Robbe didn’t ask him back what he can do.

“Noor told us about it.”

Sander has no bite his lip not to ask the cheesy “So you asked about me?” line. Noor is a good friend of his but she’s Britt very, very best friend so there’s no way Robbe went to her to ask about Sander.

“Hopefully she said my drawings are okay.”

Robbe laughs, and Sander lets himself exhale, happy that he didn’t scare Robbe away completely.

“She said you’re okay.” He nods his head and Sander smiles, starting the movie.

“Have you ever seen this movie?” Sander was trying to keep his cool and keep the mood light but the way Robbe sighs makes him look at the boy across the couch again. His eyes are shinning so brightly, even in the dark, reflecting the movie and he smiles from ear to ear, all his lines and dimples showing and he doesn’t even bother to look back at Sander, barely blinking as the actors start to deliver their first lines on the screen.

“Yeah. It’s my favorite.”

“Really?” Sander lifts his eyebrows, ignoring the movie completely. He already watched it once too but it was a long time ago, and he doesn’t really like it, makes him think too deeply about love and feelings and he, more than anyone, can get way too carried away thinking. He’ll start and it never stops again.

Robbe nods his head, finally relaxing a little more on the couch, sinking against the soft pillows a little more, quietly kicking his socks off his feet.

“Yeah.”

“I’m guessing he’s your favorite actor...” Sander rolls his eyes because of course, Leonardo Di Caprio would be a favorite. Sander doesn’t get it, honestly.

“Yeah. You have one?” Robbe finally looks at him and it takes him by surprise, looking at the screen, trying to think of actors he likes.

“Al Pacino is amazing.” Is the only one he can think of so quickly, and Robbe laughs, nodding his head and Sander is back to staring at him.

“Old school, huh...”

Sander smiles, turning his body a little so he can really look at Robbe without stretching his neck too much.

“I like Josh O'Connor too, if Al Pacino was too old for you.”

Robbe frowns, looking at him with curiosity and Sander thinks about watching God's Own Country with Robbe.

“He’s Prince Charles in The Crown. You should watch it, has some amazing shots. He’s not bad to the eyes either. Better than Leo.”

He bites his cheek and Robbe pushes himself up against the pillows quickly making him sink on the couch.

“You don’t think Leo is good looking?”

Sander shakes his head, liking the feeling of being completely open and honest and not being too judged about it. Robbe is sweeter than he thought it was possible for a human to be.

“I liked kissing you, so that should be considered too if we’re talking about people we find attractive.”

Robbe takes a very long, deep breath in to buy himself some time but also to keep his attention on the movie for a second longer. Sander leans back against the couch too, resting his head against his arm, so stretched out and still not able to rest behind Robbe. Sander is starting to hate this gigantic couch right about now.

“It was very dramatic too.” Robbe looks at him from the corner of his eyes.

Sander smiles, nodding his head, watching the movie again.

“Sorry about that.” Sander loses his line of thought when he notices Robbe just very carefully leaning closer, pretending like he’s adjusting the pillow behind him and the only comfortable way is closer, “But I’m a single man now, so maybe it wouldn’t be that dramatic if happened again...”

Robbe nods his head in agreement and Sander watches him for what feels like seconds but are probably long minutes. Robbe doesn’t seem to mind, but he doesn’t keep the conversation going either. It feels like the movie finally mesmerized him deep enough where he can’t talk and watch at the same time.

He tries to move smoothly closer but the couch is too soft and comfortable and it sinks around where they’re sitting, so Sander has to make too much effort to move closer to go unnoticed. But Robbe doesn’t say a word, keeps watching his favorite movie, so relaxed Sander wishes they could do this every afternoon.

They make small talk from time to time, when Sander is about to yawn to keep himself from falling asleep. And it’s conscious movements that they don’t talk about it, but when there’s still around fourth minutes to go, they’re basically in each other’s arms.

Robbe is almost in his arms, actually.

Sander is sitting in the middle of the seat that was separating theirs first, and Robbe moved closer, not close enough, but close, leaning his top half even closer, letting Sander’s arm finally rest behind him on the couch. Sander quietly moves his hips to sit straighter and now they’re basically together, pulling a smile out of Sander, finally able to watch the movie even thought he spend most of the time watching Robbe watch his movie.

He smiled sometimes for no reason, his lips twitched a few times when he was about to repeat the lines that the actors were saying but he pressed his lips together and never said anything.

“You really like movies.” Sander whispers, leaning down, almost leaving a kiss at the top of Robbe’s head.

He nods his head and makes himself smaller on the couch, almost hugging his knees.

“I watch too many.” Robbe looks up, and Sander smiles when he sees Robbe staring at his lips, only a few inches apart.

“We should do this more often. Movie dates.” Sander whispers, noticing how long Robbe’s lashes are, how perfect he is, even in the smaller details, seeing up close like this.

“You’re watching my favorite one so I guess that’s a good start.”

Sander nods his head and kisses Robbe’s temple while he moves his head to go back to watching the movie.

[hale-13]

Shackled

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 7 Prompt - Collared

Peter Parker had been missing for one full week and Ned was losing his mind.

Words: 2502, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Ned Leeds

Characters: Peter Parker, Ned Leeds

TW: Angst

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

“Ned honey?” His mom said, knocking on the frame of his cracked open door and poking her head in. Her expression was as careful and neutral as it had been for the last week – ever since Peter had gone missing on his walk to school.

Ned had spent most of the morning between classes trying to text Peter (seriously – it was just super rude to not be in school and not tell your friends. Who did that?) before both he and MJ had been called to the office. Principal Morita was both gentle and firm as he questioned them about Peter’s possible whereabouts and ‘were they covering for him? No one was in trouble they just needed to know’. May hadn’t called Peter in sick and had no idea where he might be so, naturally, they assumed his best friends might have some clue. Ever since he had gotten his powers Peter had been pretty flaky but, so far, he had always at least sent some sort of message to someone if he had Spider Business.

May, more frantic now, had tried to alert the police but had been shot down since Peter had been missing less than twenty-four hours and was what they would classify as ‘troubled’ with his absence record and disciplinary record at school. Tony Stark, who had been May’s next call, had gone into full panic-helicopter-mentor mode and had hacked into cameras all over the city to try and find out what he could. Unfortunately, the footage seemed to have been wiped leaving them with no leads other than Peter’s discarded book bag and cellphone left in an alley not far from the school.

Finding this had finally spurred the police into motion and had prompted an Amber Alert and search parties made up of May’s co-workers and Peter’s friends. Tony was surveying things via the Iron Legion while he spent most of his time in his workshop in the Tower; using FRIDAY and probably lots of illegal methods to try and track Peter down.

Ned had been helping May and MJ just about everyday after school since to hang up flyers and ask around to see if anyone had seen Peter but, so far, no luck. His parents had been doing what they could to help as well but Ned knew they could see him cracking under the pressure and worry.

They had, in fact, pulled him into a conversation the night before to tell him they wanted him to talk to a therapist, that finding someone missing after the first fourth-eight hours was really hard and they wanted to do what they could to prepare him for all eventualities and that they would always be there for him no matter what.

Ned liked to think he was a pretty chill and easy-going guy for the most part so he won’t say that he’s proud of how he handled that conversation. At least his parents didn’t get too upset when he skipped school with MJ to keep looking that day.

“Hmm?” Ned asked, not bothering to look up from his computer where he was pretending to write his English essay but seeing his mom’s cautious expression in his peripheral vision anyway. He didn’t like that she looked at him like he was made of glass that might shatter at any given moment.

“Your father and I are going to go grab some dinner and maybe see a movie. Want to come with us?” She sounded so hopeful and a small, angry part of Ned hated how normal they were trying to make things. Didn’t they understand that his best friend since kindergarten, his only friend other than MJ, was missing and could be… could be…

“No thanks,” he said instead, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible and pretending not to see the hurt look on his mom’s face when he turned down her offer.

“Okay,” she said, her tone soft with just the barest edge of disapproval. He was just glad that she didn’t try to force him into going but he had a feeling that he was due for another ‘family chat’ soon. “Text me if you want us to bring you something back.”

“Thanks,” Ned mumbled, still not looking up even when his mom let out a sad sigh and left, pulling his door back closed. Ned sniffed and wiped his tired eyes, he had a headache that was brewing and he wanted nothing more than to sleep but he couldn’t. If it was him missing he knew that Peter wouldn’t take any breaks looking for him so Ned couldn’t either. They had to find him.

Hearing the front door shut, Ned closed out of his essay and pulled back up Karen’s systems, still on his computer from the last time he and Peter had hacked into the Spider Suit, and went over the data she had managed to extract from Mr. Stark’s AI, FRIDAY without him knowing or, more likely, without him trying to stop them from taking the info for themselves. It was Tony Stark after all. The data itself was a disappointingly small amount and nothing that really helped point him in any kind of definitive direction. His phone buzzed against the desk, pulling Ned back.

From: MJ

Anything?

Ned rubbed his eyes again, little lights dancing over his vision at the pressure and typed out a quick ‘No’ in response before tossing his phone to the side. Something had to turn up eventually. He just knew it would.

As if summoned, taps sounded on his window and Ned froze, not daring to hope. He waited and the taps sounded again, more incessantly this time, and Ned jumped up from his desk – banging his knee in the process and nearly falling – but making it to the window to unlock it and throw it open. It couldn’t be…

After a week of being missing, Peter fell through to land roughly on the hard wood flooring of Ned’s room.

“Peter,” Ned said, breathless and voice full of emotion as tears pricked his eyes, reaching out a hand to help Peter up and then backing away when his friend flinched violently away from him.

“Sorry,” Peter said, his voice rough as he forced himself to his feet with a disingenuous smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry.”

Ned narrowed his eyes in concern. Peter was pale, his face thinner than it had been the last time Ned had seen him. He was wearing dirty sweat pants and a shirt that may have been white in a previous lifetime but was now yellowed and dirty. His clothing was covered in rips and tears, bloody skin in various stages of healing peaking through and staining his clothes. His fingers were twitching in time with the tic in his left eyebrow and his eyes were shifting all over the place like he was looking for something.

Worst of all had to be the half broken metal collar with wires poking out around his neck and the clear electrical burns surrounding it.

“We need to call May,” Ned said, rushing to his phone. “We need to call Mr. Stark.”

“No!” Peter said, limping quickly across the room to block Ned from his phone. The hand that touched his was cold and clammy with sweat and Peter was quick to remove it once he realized he was touching Ned. “They can’t see me like this, especially May. You have to help me,” he pleaded.

“Peter,” Ned said sadly as he took in how broken and tired his friend looked. “You need to go to the hospital – I’m not a doctor! I can’t fix all of… this!” He exclaimed, gesturing to all of Peter with an exaggerated movement.

Peter flinched again and crossed his arms across his abdomen, hunching in on himself. “I know,” he said, voice rough and broken. “I know but I don’t want them to see… I don’t…” he made an abortive movement to gesture at the collar. “I almost got it off but I couldn’t… please help.”

“You promise to let me call May and Tony right after?” Ned asked, slowly reaching out to rest his hand on Peter’s shoulder. He wanted to pull him into a hug but he figured that wouldn’t go over too well just yet. Peter nodded hurriedly, some of the tension leaking out of him with Ned’s agreement, and he let himself sink ungracefully to the floor. “Why didn’t you just break it?”

“It uh,” Peter said, squeezing his eyes closed and wetting his lips. “It suppresses my powers.”

“Whoa,” Ned muttered, sitting next to Peter and surveying the collar more closely. Peter twitched his chin down and hunched his shoulders again and Ned just waited for him to relax enough for Ned to get a closer look. The collar was a thick and heavy dull metal and was seated tight enough around Peter’s throat to dig into his skin and chafe; Ned winced sympathetically. The red light on the front was blinking dimly, poking out from a thick black box that Peter had clearly torn into at some point. Peter was uncharacteristically quiet while Ned stared but every muscle in his body was tensed like he was ready to run if necessary. “Can I hug you?” Ned blurted out earnestly making Peter jump a little in surprise.

“I… um you… what?” He asked leaning back so he could look at Ned more fully.

“You look like you need a hug,” Ned told him, reaching his arms up but taking care not to touch Peter. “So can I hug you?”

The nod Peter gave him was wobbly and wooden but, the second Ned wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in, Peter went limp, mashing his face into Ned’s shoulder before letting out a quiet and broken little sob. Peter’s own arms were shaking as they wrapped back around Ned, crying harder and wetting the front of Ned’s shirt with tears.

Ned could feel his heart breaking in his chest but that was overshadowed by a feeling of anger so strong that it nearly turned his vision red. Peter had been his best friend since they were kids. Peter had always been there for him no matter what. Whoever had dared to do this… well Ned didn’t pity what was going to happen to them. In lieu of letting out his frustrations, Ned just pulled Peter in tighter, shushing him and carefully patting his back.

“Sorry,” Peter whispered a few minutes later when he pulled back, using trembling hands to wipe his reddened eyes and chapped cheeks free of tears. “I didn’t mean to break down like that on you,” he said with a humorless laugh.

“Peter…” Ned wanted to tell Peter that he could always break down around Ned if he needed to. Peter was his brother in all but blood – Ned would always be there for him – but Peter shook his head violently to stop him, reaching up to let blood stained fingers brush the collar – his nails ragged and torn down to the quick.

“Please,” he begged, looking like he was barely keeping it together and Ned nodded.

“Okay Pete. I’ll look at it,” Ned reassured, moving his hands slowly up to touch the skin-warmed metal around his friend’s throat. “Does this have a tracker in it? A stun feature?” He tried to keep it professional but Peter still grimaced at the questions.

“I disabled the tracker and the electricity I think,” Peter said. “I just can’t see the mechanism to release it and I just… I need it off. I can’t…” his breathing sped up and Ned gripped his shoulder tightly in solidarity.

“It’ll be okay,” Ned said again, cautiously sorting through the loose wires to look into the black box just under Peter’s chin. “When you said this suppressed your powers did you mean all of them?”

Peter gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing painfully against the metal as he gave a tiny nod. “All of them,” he confirmed.

“What about your hearing?” Ned pressed, pulling his hands back from the locking mechanism of the collar. Peter frowned at him before paling further at the realization.

“Oh,” he said, reaching both hands up to grip the collar. “My hearing…”

“If I take it off,” Ned cautioned, “and all your senses come back at once…”

“That would be bad,” Peter confirmed. “It would be very bad.”

“I know you don’t want me to,” Ned started, ignoring the way that Peter was shaking his head. “But I really think we should call May and Mr. Stark. They’re worried about you and Mr. Stark has that sensory deprivation room for your overloads.”

“I can’t do that to May,” Peter said firmly. “I already went and got myself kidnapped I can’t put her through this.” His voice was more steady than it had been since he had arrived and Ned felt like rolling his eyes at Peter’s typical self-flagellation.

“Happy then,” Ned suggested, desperate. Peter bit his lip, considering for a second, before nodding his consent prompting Ned to leap for his phone, dialing Happy before Peter could stop him.

“Look Leeds,” Happy grumbled into the phone, the background noise muffling his voice slightly. “I already told you – we’ll call when we know something so just-,”

“Peter’s here,” Ned blurted out, sitting back down next to his friend and pulling him into a half hug that Peter fell into willingly, curling up into Ned’s side. “He’s here. “Whoever had him put this… they… look he doesn’t want May to see him until he’s fixed up some so can you just come get us?” Ned asked following it up with a ‘Please’ as an afterthought.

“The kid’s with you?” Happy asked, sounding like he was running. “Put him on the phone.”

“He wants to talk to you,” Ned said, offering Peter the phone which he, reluctantly, took.

“Hey Happy,” Peter tried for chipper but fell spectacularly short and Ned winced a little. “I’m okay they just put… look I don’t want May to see me like… to see… can you just come get me please?” Peter sounded teary again and Ned plucked the phone from his hand to put back to his own ear.

“You’re coming right?”

“On my way,” Happy confirmed. “Give me eight minutes.” And with that he hung up the phone leaving Ned to drop it into his lap.

“I should probably text MJ,” he told Peter, not making any effort to move. “She’ll be pissed if she’s the last to know,” he joked and Peter snorted.

“Probably,” he agreed, letting his eyes slip closed and his breathing even out.

He needed to text MJ, call his mom and let her know Peter was back and that he was going to visit, pull Peter out into the living room to wait for Happy. But, Ned decided as Peter gripped Ned’s hoodie a little tighter, it could wait for just a few more minutes.

[teawithkpop]

[M] - PhysCom - Pt 6

pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - bc 1 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader

Rating: Mature [18+]

Length: 6.0k words

Genre: PhysCom AU - smut with dashes of angst, and a shitload of romance and complicated feelings,, uhuhu (porn with plot??)

Warnings: swearing, sex with ulterior motives, dirty talk, dom!yoongi, oral sex (male and female receiving), throat fucking, spanking, clothed sex, unprotected sex, ripping clothes, degradation, throat holding (not to the degree of choking), licking, cum play, it’s nasty it’s just nASTY

I hope you don’t all hate me after this ahahahahahaha love you guys <3

☕💕 If you enjoy this work, please consider supporting me and my writing on KoFi ^^ ☕💕

-------

We must build a brighter future for PhysComs.    They are people, just like you and me, and they are severely undervalued in our society. We employ them, we rely on them, and yet, they are ignored at best, and abused at worst, with punishment and persecution waiting should they dare to speak out about the horrific injustices through which they suffer.    We cannot live in this double standard. I refuse to accept it, and I urge you to open your hearts and imagine what it would feel like to be needed but shamed. To be relied upon, but to never receive recognition for your efforts. They are people, just like us. They live among us, yet they are treated like ghosts.    As of now, Physical Companions are employed by most entertainment companies, but are given no benefits and no job security. They have only the protection of their own agencies and any underground communication they might have between each other.    These people should be respected. They should not be forced to live in the shadows.    It’s time that we acknowledge and thank these tireless workers, and provide them with some support in return for all of the support that they provide this industry.

You read over the words again and again until they become a continuous stream of overlapping thoughts, filling you with utter confusion.

What the fuck does this mean?

You look away from your ComGear and pull up the document on Namjoon’s computer again. “Jungkook!” You call out to him, your heart hammering, and the door opens enough for him to poke his head through, his eyes widened expectantly.

“Yeah?”

You hastily gesture for him to come in, your eyes glued to the screen. “Come read this. Out loud.”

He seems confused, but comes up beside you and looks over the document, murmuring as he reads. “We must build a brighter future for PhysComs…"

As he confirms by reading back to you what you’ve seen with your own eyes, your confusion heightens to a fever pitch, and you almost want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Is this… an essay? About PhysComs?

“Wow,” Jungkook says softly, his eyes scanning the words in fascination. But when he turns to look at you, you can see that it isn’t fascination at all. His eyes contain something that stirs worry in your gut. “I, uh… I didn’t realize things were so bad for you.”

Pity.

No. No, this is bad. This can’t be happening.

Your brief feeling of ease at finally getting some answers vanishes in an instant as your mind becomes a whirlwind, spiraling down, down, down… You can see, clear as day, what will happen if Namjoon shows this essay to the other boys.

You’ll become someone they pity.

Pity is bad, pity isn’t hot, pity isn’t sexy, pity isn’t fuckable, pity means they’ll feel bad when you do your job, pity means they’ll use other sluts to lessen your burden, pity means they give you more fucking vacation time, pity means they’ll never look at you the same way again, pity means-

You don’t realize you’re short of breath until you’re gasping, hyperventilating, your knuckles white against the dark armrests of the chair.

Jungkook is beside you. He’s saying something but all you can hear is a high pitched whine and the thunder of your own pulse as it crashes in your ears, reminding you with every thump of your beating heart that you’re a failure.

You’ve failed.

You stand up, probably a little too fast, as your vision grows dark in the corners. Jungkook immediately goes to help you when you stumble, but you fend him off.

"I'm fine." You put a hand to your head, trying to force it to stop throbbing. "I don't need your help."

He seems hesitant to reply.

“Where is Namjoon? I-I need to-” Your voice trails off as stars swim in your vision. “Fuck…”

The room becomes blurry, and you feel weightless as you sink to the floor, the distant echo of Jungkook’s frantic voice fading into nothingness.

-------

“Some clients may become… misguided.” Madame paces in front of the class, checking everyone’s form and breathing as they lay on their backs at their stations, legs propped and parted as fucking machines train you all for stamina.

This is a relaxing class, despite the nature of it. After a while, you barely even notice the dildo sliding in and out of you, the whir of the machines becomes background noise. It’s a good chance to focus and meditate.

“They may come to hold… pity for you.” Madame bites on the word as she lowers her ever present riding crop, gently coaxing one girl’s legs further apart.

“They’ll think, aww, the poor little sluts are forced to be used. They’re being objectified. They don’t get a say.” You can barely see Madame’s arm from your position as she drags the riding crop along the girl’s thigh, and the girl shivers in pleasure.

“Pity is useless, girls. This is your job. You don’t pity the mailman for having to be out in the weather. Safety is key, and rules are in place for a reason. That’s why people never hire just one Physical Companion.”

The class snickers at this. The idea is preposterous. PhysComs are always hired in sets, proportional to the amount of clients they’ll be serving.

“You are never forced to serve your client. You are independent contractors. Anything you do for them, you do willingly. This is why we train. To broaden our capabilities, and make ourselves-” Here, she adjusts the setting on one girl’s machine. The dildo moves faster, causing the girl to let out a breathy moan.  “-as flexible as possible for our perspective clients.”

You inhale steadily as Madame examines you, her eye keen enough to pick up every detail of your posture, every twitch of your muscles. She clicks a setting on your machine and you feel the dildo expand slightly in girth, stretching you out further.

You smile and sigh at the stretch, proud to beat your previous record for time needed to move up a size. Madame’s expression gives away no approval, but you can tell from the twitch in her lip that she finds you to be a promising pupil.

She moves on, examining the next girl in line. “Our job is to assure them. To remind our clients why we are here. When we are with our clients, we are purely sexual beings.”

The girl beside you has her hands clapped to her mouth, trying desperately to conceal her noises. You can see her legs quivering and feel a twist of pride at being one of the few people eligible for an orgasm suppressant. Until you get your Opticon implanted, it’s an excellent advantage for stamina training.

Madame returns to her post at the front of the class, her sharp gaze sweeping over each of you as she continues her lecture. “If you are pitied by your client, then you have failed to make them see you as useful. Useless toys are thrown away.”

-------

Regaining consciousness is like being pulled up from the depths.

You vaguely register the softness of a bed beneath you. You blearily open your eyes, and see someone sitting at your side, their face swimming in your vision.

“Jagiya,” Taehyung pets your cheek, his large hands warm against your clammy skin, his voice is gentle. “Are you with me?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, suppressing a groan as you shove yourself onto your elbows.

“Woah, woah,” He stops you, guiding you to lay back down. “Easy there. How are you feeling?”

You feel like shit, honestly. Your head is still pounding and there’s a ringing in your ears, though the dizziness has faded significantly.

“I’m fine,” you croak, surprised at how weak your voice sounds. You wish you had the strength to shove him off, but your hands are braced uselessly on his arms.

A quick glance at your surroundings tells you that you’re back in your bedroom. How did you get here? The memories of what you discovered begin to come back to you, and with them, your sense of urgency returns. You try to push him off again. “N-need to see Namjoon...”

Taehyung shakes his head with an air of duty. “Namjoon isn’t home yet, but he said to keep you company and make sure you don’t overexert yourself.” He rearranges your arms and tucks the blanket up around your shoulders, then reaches for something on the night table and gently coaxes a straw to your lips. “Here, have some water.”

You reluctantly take a sip. You hadn't realized your throat was so dry.

He seems satisfied, and gives a nod before setting the drink down.

"What happened?” You ask with a looming sense of dread.

“You fainted,” he replies somberly.

You squint at him. “Yeah, I meant after that.”

His face brightens in understanding. “Oh! Well, Jungkook said he tried to call Namjoon as soon as you collapsed, but he didn't answer right away so he had to leave a voicemail. Then he brought you back here to your room instead. Carried you the whole way.”

There’s amusement in his eyes, though you can’t imagine what he finds funny about the situation. “It was perfect timing, so I said I’d look after you until you woke up.” He smiles warmly. “And now you’re awake.”

“What do you mean perfect timing?”

His smile falters for a moment. “Because... I just got home from shopping. See?” He says brightly, gesturing to some shopping bags sitting by your door with big name brands on them.

You also notice that your door handle is broken clean off.

“What… happened to my door?” You gape at the sight.

“Oh, I guess it must have been locked when Jungkook brought you home.” Taehyung chuckles. “I don’t think an elephant could have stopped him. You had him really worried.”

Something inside you feels warm at the notion that Jungkook would care so much.

And that warmth is immediately doused by frigid guilt.

Fuck, what are you thinking?

You’ve let them get too close, you’ve let them see your struggles, you’ve let them see you as a human being, as someone to worry about, instead of a mindless toy. Namjoon has written an entire persuasive essay about the supposed plight through which he believes you’re suffering.

You’ve become too relaxed around them. Fuck, you’re sitting here letting Taehyung fuss over you, when you should be offering him your body, sucking him dry, and letting him fuck your brains out.

That document puts things back into perspective. Letting this… tentative emotional connection that you've started with them go any further could be career ruining. Not just for you, but for the rest of their PhysComs. The dozens of Secondaries they employ could be at risk for losing their jobs too, if your clients suddenly feel guilty for using your services.

And then what? The members’ sexual drives will get out of hand. They won’t be regulated, they might stick their dick into a lucky fan and end up with a pregnancy scandal to cover up, or they’ll become tired, sluggish, and distracted due to unregulated sexual maintenance, which could affect their performance.

You are a necessary piece of their daily routine, their health, their jobs.

Vacation be damned, you are not about to let Namjoon’s blind optimism put himself, the other boys, or your own career at risk. It's for his own good.

You should have deleted the damn document when you had the chance. But it would have been too late anyway. Once they see you in that light, once they start pitying you, then that flicker of doubt will linger in their minds no matter how much you try to extinguish it.

You need to remind them of your place.

Jungkook and Namjoon are lost causes, they’ve both been exposed to the document’s propaganda. But there's still that mysterious vote they’ll be having by the end of the week, presumably about your future. That means you still have a chance. If you can convince a majority of them to view you once more as a purely sexual being…

You try to clear your head, mustering your strength to serve, but before you can ask Taehyung how he wants to use your body, he speaks.

“You do so much for us, jagiya.” Taehyung keeps his hands braced on your arms, his thumb rubbing gently against your skin. “You’re always there for us. Always giving.”

Your whole body tenses. You don’t like where this is going. He’s starting to sound an awful lot like Namjoon.

Taehyung seems to sense your discomfort, because he leans closer and bestows a fleeting kiss to your forehead. “Now it’s time for you to receive.” His eyes are warm as he stares down at you, and he holds a glimmer of something secretive in his smile, like he just told a private joke.

Your confusion grows. “Taehyung… what are you talking about?”

“He’ll be here any minute,” he says by way of an answer, and gives your shoulder a squeeze. “Just relax, jagiya. You deserve this.”

“What do you-?”

But before you can question what he means and why he’s acting so strangely, your door swings open, and Min Yoongi enters.

“Here to take over,” he says, his mouth and nose still covered by the same black mask from earlier.

Taehyung looks surprised, almost shocked. “Where’s Jimin? He was supposed to-”

“Asked me to come instead.” Yoongi lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “Said something about not feeling right.”

You look between the two of them. Taehyung’s mouth flaps like a fish and Yoongi sighs, coming over to take his place. “Come on, you’ve been up here for hours.”

Hours? What time is it? You reach for your ComGear and find that it’s not in your utility belt.

“No, but Jimin is supposed to-” 

Oh, there it is. Plugged in, resting on your night table. Maybe Jungkook saw that the battery was low. That boy is way too considerate.

“Why don’t you go check on him, then?” Yoongi doesn’t give Taehyung any room for argument, staring him down. “I think he went to the practice room.” 

Why is it on the settings screen? Shouldn’t it still be in your emails from earlier…? Weird.

Taehyung reluctantly stands up and takes a few steps towards the door, shifting his weight with uncertainty. He looks to you, then back at Yoongi. “But she was about to ask me something.”

You put aside your ComGear, pushing away any prior thoughts to focus on your mission. “It’s okay, we’ll talk later,” you assure him with a nod, your mind whirring into action.

You have to remind five men of your place as their personal sex slave, if all goes well. The order in which you remind them of this is inconsequential. Plus it might be more effective to go for Taehyung later. He may be less eager to fuck you after nursing you back to health.

But Yoongi… you haven’t seen him since earlier in the day. Yoongi doesn't have feelings for you. Yoongi’s only ever known you as a slut, which makes him an easy target.

Taehyung doesn’t look happy about leaving, but he nods, retrieves his shopping bags from the floor, and gives both of you a final glance before shutting the door.

You wait just long enough to know Taehyung is out of earshot. Yoongi walks over to your vanity, takes off the jacket he’d been wearing and drapes it over the back of the chair, leaving himself in a plain black t-shirt and black sweatpants.

While he isn’t looking, you carefully sit up and shed your oversized hoodie, leaving you topless. Time to get back to business.

You take a deep breath and slip into your persona. It feels good to wear it again, you feel less dizzy, more focused. Ready to fuck.

“Did you miss me, Master Min?”

Yoongi freezes, his back to you. You suppress a laugh. You know you’ve caught him off-guard.

“I’m sorry?” He tugs down his face mask and turns around, only to see you in nothing but a pair of leggings, perched prettily on the edge of your bed. His eyes widen only marginally, but it’s a big reaction, coming from him. "What are you doing?"

You tilt your head to the side and cover your breasts with your hands, groping and squeezing them together. “What do you think I’m doing, Master?” You bite your lower lip, keeping eye contact with him while you feel yourself, rolling a nipple between your fingers. “You always tell me to show off my pretty body.”

Yoongi looks off to the side, averting his eyes to your actions, but the tent forming in his pants tells you he didn’t look away soon enough. “Stop fucking around. You're suspended.” He says, echoing your words from earlier in the day.

You hum in agreement, a pout forming on your lips. “Mm, but I don’t want to be.” You let out a desperate, breathy sigh. “I want to be filled with your cock, Master. I need it.”

You watch his adam’s apple bob. His weight shifts. His lips press together. Every movement you analyze for signs of weakness. It’s like playing chess.

“I know you want me, Master,” you purr, sprawling back onto the bed. You bring one hand down to your core, massaging your mound through the stretchy material. “I’m yours for the taking. No one has to know.”

"Is that what you really want?" He asks with a distinct note of skepticism.

You bristle, but try to hide your irritation. Here they go again with their fucking consent.

“Yes, of course, Master.” You mold your face into submissive desire. “It's my dream to be a good little slut for you. Being stuffed with your thick cock, pounded into the mattress, and pumped full of your seed,” you whine, grinding against your hand for effect. It feels good, better than usual, and you come to find that you mean what you said. 

Sex actually sounds good right now, if you’re being honest. A good fucking might be just what you need to forget your worries, so it’s really a win-win.

You sense Yoongi’s hesitance, and you try to think of a way to convince him that you’re serious. The only off-the-clock sex you’ve had so far was with Hoseok, and that had been… far too intimate. But maybe some of the same principles could apply here. Hoseok had wanted you to want it. He’d asked you to use his name.

“Yoongi,” you breathe his name, dropping your character for just a moment. His eyes snap to yours. “I want you.”

He stares at you for a second. Two. Then he’s hovering over you, hands planted on either side of your shoulders.

“You want me?” His breath is warm and heavy, and you can see the way his pupils dilate when he looks at you.

Your heart skips a beat at his unexpected intensity. You nod, your lips slightly parted as he holds his body only inches away from you.

He seems at war with himself, his jaw working as his eyes roam down to your chest, then travel slowly back up, settling on your widened eyes, your pink bitten lips.

"Fuck it," he mutters, and surges down to crush his lips to yours.

It's unexpected. He's never shown any interest in kissing you, he's always preferred shoving his fingers in your mouth.

But you're grateful for that, because if he'd ever tried to kiss you before, you don't think you would've been able to keep your composure.

Yoongi is like fire. His lips are searing with passion, his tongue flickers and licks into your mouth. It's a stark contrast to his icy fingers as they brush against your ribs.

He's full of contradictions. His kiss is greedy but controlled. He grinds his thigh between your legs, causing you to moan, but his hands are feather light as they caress your breasts. He's fire and ice.

You feel yourself getting hotter by the minute, and all too soon, he breaks away from the kiss, leaving you gasping as he trails his mouth down your neck, biting a bruise there.

"Ah! Yoongi…" Your fingers twine through his hair of their own accord, and you're appalled at how easily you've given in to your desires. But it's all for the cause. You're saving careers.

He groans, his voice low and tempting as he kisses and licks your skin. "You really want me, princess?"

Your chest heaves as you catch your breath. "Yes. Fuck, yes, please…"

"You want me to fuck that greedy cunt of yours? Fill you to the brim?"

His words light a fire in you, and you writhe beneath him. "I want it so much, Master. Please fuck me…"

He grabs your jaw. "You're my slut."

He says it more like a question than a statement. You nod as much as he'll allow.

He drags his thumb across your cheek and dips it into your mouth. "You're mine. I can use you however I want…"

You didn't think he'd be so easy to convince. Well, mission accomplished, you suppose. One down, four to go.

You suck greedily on his thumb in answer, widening your eyes to draw him in. He hums, pressing down on your tongue and making you gag around the digit.

"Good girl." His eyes are half lidded as he looks at you. Then something changes, a sharp glint appearing in his gaze as he removes his thumb and squeezes your jaw, forcing your mouth open.

He licks past your lips in a kiss of complete dominance. Despite his control, he's gentle, savoring your taste, praising you for it between breaths.

While your mouth is occupied, his other hand snakes down to cup your heat, palming you through your frustratingly thin leggings. His dexterous fingers find your clit faster than you would expect, and he circles the pads of his fingers there intently, nothing but the thin material separating him from your skin.

You buck into his hand, though you hope he doesn't keep you there for too long. You know the ache between your thighs will only get worse with no release.

"So fucking wet…" he mutters, pulling back from exploring your mouth to lick a possessive stripe up your cheek. "Tell me how much you want me, slut. Beg for it."

"Please!" You whine, falling into the familiar routine. "Please, Master, all I want is your cock inside me! I need it, I want it so badly…"

Yoongi exhales through his nose, and soon he's up and off of you. "All fours."

This is what you're used to. The familiarity of being told what to do, knowing what's going to happen next, it makes you relax. You get in the position he asks, wiggling your ass towards him.

But Yoongi needs no encouragement. He spanks you hard, rubbing his hands all over the smooth material covering your ass. "Fuck, so juicy…"

He's silent for a moment, and his hands still. You're about to say something to provoke him when there's the distinct noise of ripping fabric behind you. Your hips jerk towards him as he tears the seam of the leggings right down your core, exposing you.

"Yoongi!"

But he's already digging in, dragging his tongue along your folds and sucking at your dripping cunt. His hands grip your ass, spreading you apart for him, and you quiver, his tongue igniting sparks as it plunges within you.

You try not to let it get to you, but the lack of constant sex must have made you extra sensetive. Every thrust and flicker of his tongue has you breathless, squirming, needing more. It was never like this before, you have to pull yourself together. Keep control.

But Yoongi seems to like your enthusiasm. He hums, and the vibrations buzz at your clit, sending tingles straight up your spine. You let out a shriek of surprise as he sucks on the overly sensitive bud and you feel yourself throb.

Fuck, he's too good at this. How did he get so good at this? Your arms give out, and you fall onto the bed, your face buried in the duvet as Yoongi fucks you expertly with his tongue.

"S-stop…" you plead weakly, trying to avoid the inevitable disappointment that will soon follow if he keeps this up.

"What? I didn't hear you use your safeword, slut." He growls, landing a warning spank on your rear ashe rises onto the bed behind you. A shuffle of fabric as he pulls down his sweatpants. "You like this, don't you? You like being exposed. Being treated like a pornstar? Dirty girl."

You do. Fuck, you do. Especially when Min Yoongi happens to be the actor starring with you.

You feel him tap the head of his cock against your ass, slide the thick length along your center. "Look at how fucking wet you are already. So desperate... pathetic."

You feel a flash of heat at his assessment. Yoongi's always enjoyed a little degradation, but his choice of words hits a little too close to home in this particular scenario for you to fully embrace it.

You cover your embarrassment with a thicker cloud of pretend. "Of course I'm dripping, Master. I'm your fuck doll. I live to service your cock..."

"Damn right, you do." He shoves into you without warning, and you gasp for real. Fuck, you've been denied dick for less than twenty-four hours, and you're already off your game? Come on, shake it off. Get in the rhythm of it.

But Yoongi sets such a relentless pace, it's impossible for you to keep up. It's as if he's got something to prove. He fucks into you so hard it hurts. You moan and try to relax, try to cling to the familiarity, but you feel a weird pressure building in your chest. It makes it hard to breathe, hard to focus.

He takes your moans and gasps as a sign to go harder, and he leans over you, pressing his chest to your back. His hand slips around your neck, holding you in place while he growls against you, his nose digging into your cheek. "Gonna fuck the living shit outta you… yeah? That's what you want? Gonna make you see stars and beg for my cock, over and over until I say so."

You moan in gratitude. You're grateful he's so easy to convince. You're his slut, and he knows it. This is where you belong. You feel happy. Safe. You smile, closing your eyes as Min Yoongi fucks into you like a freight train, and you finally get a moment’s peace from the past day’s turmoil.

He suddenly grunts, lifting himself off of you. "This cock belongs in your filthy mouth." He pulls out of you and takes you firmly by the shoulder. You hastily follow his implications to sit up.

He grabs his cock at the base and guides it to your face, nudging your cheek and spreading the coated wetness across your skin. You get a glimpse of his length - rock hard, nearly purple, and leaking - before he stuffs it down your throat. You relax, humming and taking all of him and gagging obediently upon request, just like always.

"Such a good whore, yeah…  just like that," he moans, bracing his hand behind your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair. "This is how it should be, yeah?"

You hum around him in confirmation, glad that you're both on the same page.

"You're our slut. Nothing will ever fucking change that… " he starts rutting into your mouth, and you obediently let him fuck your throat.

He huffs, his voice dropping lower, “No use pretending you can be anything else.”

The change in his tone of voice is so stark, it gives you pause. You almost lose your concentration. He sounds almost... sad? Why would he be sad? Are you doing something wrong?

You redouble your efforts to please him.

"Look at you. So filthy." He praises you softly as you gurgle around him, drool starting to leak from your mouth. His roughness starts to return at the sight of you, and you beam with pride as he resumes his filthy dialogue. "This is what you want, isn't it? To choke on our dicks all day, huh? This what you signed up for?"

He pulls out to let you gasp in a breath, then shoves right back down. He does this a few more times, letting the blowjob get sloppy. You nod desperately between thrusts, assuring him of your devotion. You graze your hands over his clothed thighs, caressing him while he fucks your throat.

“Nothing else matters.” Yoongi huffs, and as his face swims back in forth in your vision, he looks resolute.

You surge forward to hold his length down your throat, swallowing around him, your nose touching his abdomen.

He groans, pulling your hair taut and holding you in place. "Yeah, that's it…. You were built for this, weren't you?"

He finally lets you come back for air, but no sooner do you take a messy gasp than he pushes you backwards onto the bed and crawls on top of you.

"Say it." He grabs you by the jaw again, and his voice is low and soft, his eyes like hot coals. "Tell me what you want."

You sputter and gasp, still reclaiming your breath, but obediently say what he wants to hear. "I want you, Yoongi. I want your cock..."

He let go of your face and hoists your legs up, bending you in half. "You're gonna get it, too," he mutters, grabbing your calves, keeping them up and out of the way as he shoves his thick cock into you again.

You moan compliantly, gasping and staring up at him. This is all going according to plan, you just have to hang on and not let your throbbing pussy distract you from the goal.

"You want to be a whore, huh?" He asks, maintaining a gravitational sort of eye contact as he slowly slides in and out of you, torturing you. "Cum for me. Cum around my cock."

You shiver and within a few moments, clench around him convincingly, letting your eyes roll back as you moan in delight.

"Cumming on command, within seconds... look at that." He braces your legs with one arm and starts rubbing your clit with his other hand as he picks up the pace. You feel a jolt as his thumb circles the little bundle of nerves, and you actually flinch.

"So sensitive." He growls, reading your mind. "What a needy cunt."

You can't form any words, the way he's kneading your clit has your head thrown back, your breath coming in gasps. It’s never felt like this.

Yoongi picks up on your arousal, and quickly gains speed, fucking you relentlessly, with little grunts of his own as he keeps you spread wide open for him, watching as your pussy takes his cock over and over again.

After endless minutes of stimulation, your core is swollen and aching, but still somehow desperate for more.

Yoongi's hips buck and stutter, and without warning, he leaves you painfully empty, clenching around nothing. His cock in his fist, he pumps himself to completion, letting his seed cover your puffy, aching pussy.

"Yeah, yeah, that's it…" he grunts, using his cock head to smear his release along your folds.

You start to relax, trying to overcome the disappointment your body feels at getting frustratingly uselessly stimulated.

But before you know it, Yoongi is lining himself up with your entrance again. "You thought we were done?" He chuckles darkly, using his cock to collect cum around your entrance, then he sheathes himself to the hilt with a low groan.

It feels so fucking good, you can't think straight. You cry out, your body desperate and screaming for more but knowing it's not enough, and it'll never be enough.

"Yeah, you want it deep inside you, don't you, you little cum slut?" He mutters, shoving his fingers into your mouth, and you're grateful that he's muffling your embarrassing noises.

"Gonna fuck you like the worthless little whore you are," he barks, ruthlessly slamming into you, and you moan with every thrust.

You would have said something if you still had an ounce of coherent thought in your brain, but the sensations are quickly taking over. Your whole body is wound up, desperate for something. His fingers reach down to rub hastily at your swollen clit and your vision blurs, your pulse pounds in your ears - are you going to faint again?

No.

You peak.

A scream catches in your throat, broken and gutterel as pleasure takes over your entire body, coursing through you in waves, lifting your body off the bed, convulsing, throbbing through you, inside and out.

It feels so good it hurts. You want to stay in this moment, extend it for as long as possible, but you know there's something wrong. Your mind is so addled, you're scared, terrified, before you even remember why.

You shouldn’t be capable of climax. Something’s wrong.

Yoongi keeps fucking you, grunting as you clench around his cock, but you're clawing at him, begging him to stop, tears leaking down your cheeks. Something’s wrong.

He realizes you aren't moaning anymore, but wailing. Sobbing. Something's wrong. He pulls out of you, shouting to be heard above your panic. He looks scared. Guilty.

Just then your door bursts open, and Jimin enters the room with a shout, quickly followed by Taehyung.

“I’m sorry! It’s my fault-” Jimin’s eyes fall to your compromising position, Yoongi’s dick still out, your leaking core exposed, and claps a hand over his mouth. He looks like he might cry. “Oh no...”

Taehyung’s mouth falls open, and he appears too alarmed to speak, apart from a very small, “Fuck.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? What’s your fault?” Yoongi’s shouts at Jimin and Taehyung are drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears as your shoulders shake from dry sobs. Your eyes flash between the two younger members, their guilty expressions, and you remember your private conversation with Jimin just yesterday.

"There is a way to turn it off, in case of emergency side effects. But I can't just turn it off for fun. You have to understand that.” You rest your hand on his shoulder again, hoping he now comprehends the reason for your earlier outburst. “It's a part of my job."

"I understand. Sorry,” he says, giving you a small nod. He twists his mouth to the side, chewing over the revelations. "That must really suck. Not being able to cum."

He’s the only one you’ve ever told.

“I’m sorry! It’s my fault-”

Your ComGear. The settings.

You're too shocked, too betrayed, too sore to get up on your own. You feel some of Yoongi’s release drip down your leg, and a robotic voice fills your mind, drilled into you from the hours of safety lectures you’d had to sit through during training.

… If at any point the user experiences orgasmic sensations before, during, or after sexual activities, then this may be a sign of malfunction in the Opticon Miracle Implant, rendering the user susceptible to sexually transmitted disease and/or pregnancy. Side effects of a malfunctioning Opticon Miracle Implant could become severe, or in some cases life-threatening, if left untreated. Please consult your local physician and refrain from any sexual activity until the Opticon Miracle Implant may be examined by a specialist.

They’re all shouting now, and you feel your throat constrict in horror at the implications of what just happened. The words get caught in your chest, bubbling up with your mounting fear, and finally fall from your lips in a raw cry for help.

"Someone call an ambulance!"

[just-jordie-things]

Secret Muse - Richie Tozier

word count: 4308 warnings: swearing, mentions of sex summary: (y/n) and Richie have been secretly going out for a while now... and it was fun at first, but it was getting pretty hard to hide their feelings as they grew into something more.

___

Click.

Richie’s brow furrowed a bit, and his nose twitched as he could see a bright light behind his closed eyes.

He brushed it off, and went back to resting, but then he heard that sound again.

Click.

And this time when the bright light flashed, he peeked an eye open, finding (y/n) sitting up at his side, camera in hand.

“What the hell are you doin’?” He mumbled sleepily, while she eagerly waited for the polaroid photo to print out.

“Nothing” She drew out the word, eyes focused on the black film of the photo, wanting to see the image appear.

He pushed himself upwards, to sit semi-properly on the bed.  He had a way of sprawling out over the girl’s bed, the boy was all limbs.  Not that she ever minded, she loved having him in her space.  All to herself.

“Doesn’t look like nothing” Richie says, one arm wrapping around her waist, while his other hand snatches the photo out of her hand.

“Don’t ruin it!” She shrieks, taking it back gently from his hand.

Richie rolls his eyes at her, but his smile is affectionate as he looks at the picture.

“Now, why would you want a picture of me sleeping?” He asks, snorting at the photo that appeared on the polaroid.  He then presses a kiss to her cheek, nose pressed up against her face.  “You gonna start stalking me or something?” He whispers, and she lets out a small giggle.

“Oh, babe, we’re well past that, don’t you think?” She teases, turning to chastely kiss his lips.  “Besides, I want something of just you.  You’re my muse”

He smirks, leaning in with that look in his eyes- she’d been going out with him for a few months now, and she’d known him since they were kids, so she knew that look.

“You know you can have any of me any time of day, right baby-?”

“Yeah yeah,” (y/n) whacks her hand against his shoulder.  “Unless anyone else is around” She says in a mumble.

See, Richie and (y/n) had decided when they first started going out, to keep it to themselves.  They knew their friends would get weird about it, and thought it was best, for the both of them, to just explore their new feelings without other people stuffing their opinions in their faces.

At first it was perfect, it was kind of fun to sneak around, and hide in plain sight.  But now she just wanted to be with him whenever she wanted.  She wanted to hold his hand at school and cuddle up to him during movie nights.  She just wanted to be completely his, and not just when they were in private.

“What’re you thinkin’ about, pretty girl?” Richie asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Despite the blush on her face, she gave him a sad sort of smile, before shaking her head.

“Just you” She says sweetly, before leaning in closer to kiss him.

“You’re a sap, baby” He murmurs, stealing another kiss.

“Yeah, I know” (y/n) whispers back, and drops her camera and photos so she can run her fingers through his mop of curls.

She lets out a soft sigh, before wrapping her arms around his neck, and laying back with him on the bed.  Richie wasted no time in embracing her, holding her tight against his chest.

“You gonna nap with me now?” He asked softly.

She nods her head, and cuddles further against him, happily.

The problem now was that she was falling for him, and it was getting harder to hide that. ___

It wasn’t until the next day at school that she felt these nerves build up again.  She wondered if waiting too long to tell their friends would look bac, or if they’d be upset with her for hiding this for so long, or if-

“If you keep thinking so hard, your head’s gonna pop right off, you know that, right?”

She almost jumped in the air when Richie appeared next to her in the hall, seemingly out of nowhere.  He chuckled at her reaction, walking with her to her locker.

“Jesus, babe, calm down, what’s going on?”

“Nothing” She says quickly, shaking her head, and giving him a bright, but forced, smile.

Richie was an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid.  He knew she was getting worked up over something.

“Come on (y/n/n), don’t bullshit me,” He says softly, and leans against the wall of lockers while she puts in the combination to hers.  “What’s wrong?” His hand reaches out to hers, but she pulls away before he can take it.

“Really, Rich, nothing, I’m just tired, okay?”

He knows she’s still lying, and right to his face no less, but he drops it.  

She doesn’t say anything else as she gets her things for first period.  He waits for her to say something, literally anything, but she’s dead silent, until the bell rings.

“Gotta go” She says quickly, barely looking at him, before heading off.  She didn’t even give him a chance to speak. ___

“Hey,” Richie whispers to Bill at some point in the middle of class.  “Has (y/n) said anything to you? Um, about me?”

Bill’s eyebrows furrow as he looks back at his friend.

“No?” He responds, confused by the question.  “W-why?”

“I don’t know… she just… was weird this morning-”

“Y-you probably annoyed h-her” Bill responds.

Richie shakes his head.

“But I didn’t do anything-”

“Sure,” Bill chuckles.  “W-why do y-you care a-anyway?”

He doesn’t say anything, just stares down at his notebook, while Bill studies him curiously.

“O-oh, please d-don’t tell me th-that you h-have a c-crush on (y/n).  W-what, are y-you secretly i-in love w-with her?”

A bit too late for that, Richie thinks to himself.

“No- I just-”

“Oh m-my god, you a-are” Bill says, and then lets out a groan that makes Richie grimace.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He asked.

“Mister Tozier,” Scolds their Calculus teacher, “Is there something you’d like to share with the class?”

“No, Miss Scottsdale-”

“Well then how about we watch our language, hm?” The woman asked, hands on her hips.  “Now zip the lip, and take the notes, please”

After a few minutes of taking notes, and keeping his head down so he didn’t get sent to the principal’s office for the third day in a row, he turned to Bill again, this time with an annoyed and expectant look on his face, silently asking why he’d reacted so horribly.

“O-obviously it’s not a g-good idea, Richie,” Bill says to him quietly.  “It’s (y/n)... sh-she’s our f-friend”

“And?” Richie shakes his head, his heart on a slow plummet to his stomach.

“And it w-wouldn’t work,” Bill chuckles at the mere idea of Richie and (y/n) being together.  “Y-you’re polar o-opposites”

Richie stares down at his empty notebook, and tried to shove the disappointment he felt way, way down.  He shouldn’t be so upset, he knows that Bill’s wrong, because he and (y/n) do work.  They work really well.

But it still sucks to hear from his best friend that he didn’t think they were a good fit.

“R-really, not a g-good fit, l-like at all, it w-would n-never-”

“Okay I fucking get it”

“Tozier! Office, now!”

He didn’t even care at that point, just grabbed his bag and books and bee-lined for the door. ___

(y/n) had been stuck on the same essay prompt for the past two hours.  She’d come straight home from school, sat down at her desk to get to work on her english project, and she hadn’t come up with one good idea for it.

She knew why.  Any other day, she could get to work and write the whole essay in one sitting.  But her mind was preoccupied, and unfortunately, this thing with Richie that she was in was taking up every thought in her brain.

He must have somehow known too, because next thing she knew, there was a knock on her window, and Richie Tozier himself was climbing in before she could even invite him.

“Richie,” The relief in her voice came out in a sigh as she stood up from her desk to walk over to him.  “You could’ve come in the front door, my parents aren’t home-”

Before she could even finish talking, he was wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning down to kiss her.  It was quick, but his lips were soft against hers.  She’s smiling against his lips, and she’s still smiling when he pulls away.

“Well hello to you too,” She murmurs, giggling nervously.  “What was that for?”

“I just missed you today,” He mumbles, a content smile growing on his lips.  “And I was worried about you”

“Worried about me?” She asks, tilting her head to the side.  “Why?”

“I just knew you were kinda… um… off this morning, and I- I wanted to make sure you’re feeling alright…” He licks his lips before continuing, “And feeling alright… about us…”

Her lips quirked up into a smile, and she laughed again, this time more genuinely.  Not because he was funny, but because he was so cute, and it was sweet that he came to check up on her.

“I’m okay, Rich,” She hums.  “This morning was nothing, you’ve got nothing to worry about”

He grins, pulling her closer, one of his hands reaching up to cradle the back of her head.  His fingers stroked through her hair for a moment, before tangling themselves in the roots and he spoke up again.

“You still like me and all that shit?” He asks, voice softer than she’d expected.

“Somehow, yes,” She teases.  “Of course, Rich,”

She leans up on the tips of her toes to press a reassuring kiss against his lips.

“You wanna stay over and watch a movie?”

He grins, nodding his head, and forgetting all about Bill’s stupid opinions for a minute.  And when she fell asleep curled up in his lap on the couch, he decided it didn’t matter what Bill thought- or what any of their friends might think.  He loved her so much that he thought his heart might explode if he looked at her any longer.

She always insisted that she wouldn’t fall asleep if they cuddled.  But then he’d start to feel her body slumping into his more, her head lying on his shoulder or his lap.  Then she’d request a back rub or a blanket and she’d be done for.  Out like a light.

Richie never minded.  He thought it was adorable that she’d get too cozy and drift off in his arms.  Her head was lying in his lap, legs curled up to preserve her own heat, and her arms tucked between her chest and his stomach.  Tonight, neither one of them wanted to move to get her a blanket, so Richie had shrugged off his jacket and laid it over her instead.

Looking at her now, he hoped she’d never want to get up, because he didn’t want to either.

“I can feel you staring at me,” She mumbles.  Her eyes don’t open, she’s still half asleep, but she just knows that he’s staring at her.  She can feel them boring holes into her.  “What’cha thinkin’ about, babe?”

Her hand reaches out towards his shirt, fisting the material.

“How pretty you are” He answers without missing a beat.

Always a charmer, (y/n) thinks as she lets out a short chuckle.

“Mhm,”

She looks up at him, eyes meeting his in an unamused stare.

“You’re pretty too,” She says, and smacks her lips in a playful air-kiss.  “Now come on, what’s goin’ on?”

He sighs, and reaches down to run a hand through her hair.  He does this a few times before finally speaking up.  She almost could’ve fallen back asleep.

“I just had a… a weird conversation with Bill,” He says, and she nods for him to go on.  “He just said some shit and it was annoying is all-”

“What’d he say?” She asked, leaning back on his legs to look up at him better.  “You guys didn’t fight, did you?”

“No, not really anyways, but he-”

“Richie-”

“He said we’re not a good fit” Richie said quickly, before he could get too nervous.

“What?” (y/n) blinked, eyes going wide.  “Did you tell him about us?”

“N-no, I just- see, he has this idea that I have a crush on you-”

“And you don’t have a crush on me?” She asks playfully, earning an eye roll from the boy.

“But he was really weird about it, (y/n/n).  He said it would never work”

(y/n) frowns, not because Bill had said something so blatantly idiotic, but because Richie was clearly very hurt by it.

“Richie,” She giggles, and her brows knit together.  “That’s nothing you have to worry about,”

She sits up in his lap, one of her hands brushing sweetly over his cheek, the other placed on his shoulder to keep her balanced.

“Don’t ever tell him I said this,” She whispers, “But he’s dumb,”

Richie snorts, and shakes his head at her.

“I’m serious, Rich, look at us,” She murmurs, thumb tracing over his cheekbone in the gentlest of ways..  “We’re a perfect fit,” She tells him, voice growing even softer as she looks him in the eyes.  “Bill doesn’t know what he’s talking about”

This makes him crack a smile- she’s so sugary sweet he swears she’s gonna give him cavities, or Type Two- but that would be alright by him.

“You’re right,” He hums, eyes lazily wandering the features of her face.  “We are perfect”

She giggles again, nodding as she leans in closer.

“How much more time do you need before you realize I’m always right?” She teases.  “Besides, Bill wouldn’t have said such a silly thing had he known the truth, you know that,” She reminds him.  “And, even if he was dumb enough to think that, I don’t care,”

Her eyes are soft, and focused on his so intently that all his worries disappear with her gaze.  It’s a superpower she has, he thinks, because no one and nothing else could work a magic like that on him.

“Because I really like you, and I really like being with you, even if it’s just for a couple hours a week”

She gives him a timid smile, but when he grins back at her it grows.

One of his arms wraps around her back to pull her flush against his chest, and his free hand cradles her cheek to bring her face closer to his.

“Why are you so goddamn cute?” He murmurs, lips barely brushing over hers as she speaks.

She wastes no more time as she closes the distance between them, slanting her lips over his delicately.  Her fingers spread over his cheek as she leans fully against him so that the kiss could last as long as possible- unfortunately, they need air eventually.

When they do, she nuzzles her nose against his affectionately.

There’s three words that her brain and her heart are collectively screaming at her to say, but they catch in her throat, and her nerves force her to swallow them.

Another time, maybe.

She doesn’t know that Richie is dealing with the same struggle.  His anxiety gets the best of him as well, and he settles for holding her a little bit tighter and kissing her again.  Which will certainly do for now. ___

It takes him a week to muster up the courage, and he knows just what to do.

(y/n) had just left lunch, and the class she had after was the only class she had without one of the Loser’s in it.  She didn’t know how she got so unlucky to be in the class by herself, but Richie had known it was the only time she was alone, so it was the perfect time to plant it.

She went to her locker, dropping off her books from her previous class, and replacing them with the next one.  It wasn’t until she moved to close the locker door that she noticed it.

It was a polaroid, taped onto the inside of the door.

A picture she surprisingly hadn’t taken, but she couldn’t have, because she was asleep in the photo.  Passed out on Richie’s chest, who was very awake.  There was a bright grin on his lips, and she could see that he’d wrapped one arm around her to keep her secure against him, while the other was outstretched above them with the camera angled downwards to snap the photo.

The picture alone was enough to make her whole day- hell, her whole week.  It was the sweetest thing she’d ever seen.  But it was what he’d scribbled below it that made it perfect.

I love you.  

She knew just from the neat letters that he’d carefully written it, since it wasn’t in Richie’s usual chicken scratch.  

Carefully, she pulled the photo off of the door, smiling uncontrollably as she stared at it, wanting it glued to her memory.

With only a few minutes left before class, she held it to her chest, before sticking it back on the door, and shutting it safely inside her locker.

The smile on her face lasted the entire day. ___

The next time she saw Richie was two days later.

The Losers had all gotten together for a night of video games and junk.  Ben had just gotten the new Atari, so they found themselves clumped together in his living room, hogging the game and the couch cushions.

It was the first time that (y/n) found it incredibly hard not to throw herself at Richie.  She was typically pretty good at controlling herself, or at least talking herself down.  But she’d never felt something so strong, and she just wanted to tell him she loved him and kiss him senseless.

That was pretty reasonable, she thought.

“So, Richie” Stan speaks up with a snicker, and the look in his eyes already has Richie annoyed.

“What?” he mutters back, casting a momentary glance towards his girlfriend, who’s standing between the kitchen and the living room.  

She’d been lingering there while there were pizzas in the oven, walking into the room occasionally to watch her friends play games and cheer them on.

“Bill told me about your crush” Stan continues, and it appears that Bill told everyone, because now there are six pairs of eyes on him, waiting for his response.

“Take a fuckin picture,” He grumbles.  “And Stan, why don’t you cut the eleven-year-old-girl-drama, it’s not a good look on you”

“You’ve got a crush?” Beverly speaks up, eyes lighting up with excitement, because finally something interesting with one of these boys happened.

“He does!” Ben says before Richie has the chance to speak for himself.

(y/n), who’s still standing just a few feet away from the drama, is silent.  She knows that even if she tried to jump in and save him, it would only get worse.  So when he looked at her subtly, she gave the smallest of shrugs, as though to tell him to do whatever he wanted.

“Yeah,” Richie sighs in defeat.  “I do”

“On who?” Beverly questions him again, and he doesn’t bother saying anything, because almost everyone is eager to tell her.

“(y/n)!”

They must have all shouted it at once, and then each of them turned to the girl mentioned, as though waiting for her reaction, which she doesn’t give them.  She remains still, and quiet.  Her eyes do travel to Richie, however, who’s rolling his eyes incredibly far back into his head.

Stan starts to laugh, which makes Bill start to laugh as well.  The others give a few chuckles and giggles, but it’s not the same, and Richie knows it.

They’re laughing at him, and it drives him crazy.

He waits for them to stop, giving them both death glares before looking to (y/n), who’s nervously staring down at the floor, lost as to what to do to fix this awkward situation.

“You know what?” Richie speaks up, and he shoots straight out of his seat.  The laughing doesn’t cease, but he doesn’t care.  “Fuck you.  Fuck both of you,”

The boys are wiping tears from their eyes as Richie whirls around, hurdling over the back of the couch to cross the room to (y/n).

“And fuck this, I’m tired of not getting to do this all the time” He says, surprising her and everyone else in the room when he cups her face in his hands and passionately kisses her.

A short squeak of astonishment dies in the back of her throat as she melts into the kiss, and soon she’s delightedly wrapping her arms around his neck to keep him at her level so that she can continue kissing him.

Richie seemed to want to give their friends a show, anyways.

He pulls away all too soon, letting out a dramatic sigh of relief.

“I’m fucking in love with her, okay?” He says to the others.  “There.  Now you know.  We’re all on the same page now”

No one says anything, shell-shocked by what had just happened in front of them.  Richie was proud to see so many jaws on the floor.

(y/n) reaches out to take his chin in her fingers, turning his head back to look at her.

“I love you too,” She whispered with a smile.  “I tried to tell you the other night- last week- I just, um, was too scared” She tells him sheepishly.

“Me too,” he chuckles, and pushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Their friends are still wordlessly watching the scene before them.

“Did you like the picture though? I thought that was a pretty damn good idea”

“It was,” (y/n) laughs.  “I loved it, it’s still there, I’ll keep it for-”

“I’m sorry,” Mike is the first to come to his senses.  He’s pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, like it’s physically troubling him to process this.  “Are you two dating?”

(y/n) and Richie share a sheepish look before nodding back at him.

“Y-you were t-together th-this whole t-time?” Bill asks.  “Richie, I- I’m so s-sorry-”

“I know man, it’s alright,” Richie says dismissively.  “You didn’t know we were perfect for each other.  Really though, her mouth fits perfect around-”

“Beep beep!” (y/n) shrieks, swatting at his stomach before he can even think about finishing that sentence.

Not that he has to.  The smirk on his face speaks for itself.

“I- I have so many questions,” Eddie shakes his head.  “Number one, why? And number two, (y/n), blink twice if he’s making you go out with him against your will”

“Jesus Christ Eds” Richie grumbled, but (y/n) finds it hilarious.

“How long have you been dating?” Ben asks, smiling between the unexpected pair.

“Five and a half months” Richie answers, because (y/n) is still laughing.  He wraps his arms around her tight and pushing her face into his chest to muffle the laughing.

“So, uh, is it always gonna be like this now?” Stan asks, a cringe taking over his face that he tried to hide, but he couldn’t help it.

“Yep!” Richie announces, squeezing (y/n) tighter when she tries to shuffle out of his arms.  “You’re just gonna have to suck it up and deal with it”

“Yeah, I managed to, you guys can too” (y/n) says, voice muffled in his sweatshirt.

“Would you shut the fuck up please?” He muttered down to her.  “You’re makin’ me look bad”

“So you guys are like…” Mike glances to the others before continuing, “Full on married”

“How did we not notice?” Eddie mumbles.

“Richie’s surprisingly good at keeping his hands to himself” (y/n) answers with a grin, and this time it’s his turn to whack her in the shoulder.

The oven beeps then, and finally he lets her out of his hold to go get the pizzas.

“I honestly… can’t believe it” Beverly says once (y/n’s) gone.

“Yeah… (y/n)? Going out with you?” Eddie adds with a snicker.

“I mean, how did you even-”

“Actually, she asked me out” Richie says, before anyone else can say anything.

That seems to throw them for a loop again, and he just laughs as he walks into the kitchen after his girlfriend, leaving his friends to discuss just how the hell this all happened.

“Having fun?” (y/n) hums while she’s slicing up the pizzas on the kitchen counter.  She sends Richie a smile over her shoulder for a moment.

He leans in from behind her to swiftly press a kiss to her cheek, before sitting on the counter next to her.

“Oh yeah,” He answers.  “Especially now that I get to do that whenever I want”

She grins, and he takes one of the slices of pizza.

“So, are you gonna tell them that you begged me to go out with you, or…?”

“Nope.  I’m just gonna fuck with them a little bit.  They’re already going nuts out there”

She laughs, nodding her head.  She expected no less from him.

“Alright dummy, help me carry these out” She says, holding a pan of sausage pizza out for him.

“Oh, I see, you want a big sausage pizz-”

“No- nope,” She shoved a hand over the boy’s mouth.  “I want you to help me take these out to the living room” (y/n) says, before nodding her head for him to get moving.

“Fine, babe,” Richie sighs rather theatrically, and slides off the counter.  “Maybe later then?”

She giggles, and pushes his shoulders so he’ll walk faster.

“Maybe”

___

xoxo ~ jordie

[hufflepuffliest]

Shivering - Jungkook x Reader

Genre: HarryPotter!AU, Ravenclaw!Jungkook, Jealous!Reader  Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Length: 2k Summary: You hate potions class, and your best friend, Jungkook, is the only one who makes it endurable. But what happens when Snape makes you sit apart?

As you and your classmates were making your way down to the dungeons, a shiver went down your spine. Your body shivered along with it, making Jungkook chuckle next to you.

“Shut up.” You mumbled. “My shivers are no joke.”

“I think they are. You always shiver when we walk down here.” Jungkook replied, placing his blue-and-black Ravenclaw scarf around your shoulders.

“Because this place gives me the creeps.” You shot back. “And I don’t need your scarf, I have one of my own.” You pulled the scarf off of your shoulders and threw it back in Jungkook’s face.

“But you look so cute wearing mine,” grinned Jungkook. You felt your cheeks heating up and quickly fixed your gaze upon the nearing potions classroom. “See, you look much hotter immediately.” 

“I hate you.” You whispered to yourself as you said down in your seat.

“You don’t.” Jungkook said matter-of-factly, as he sat down next to you.

“I do.” You said, as you started to pull out your scroll of paper and your quill. You couldn’t seem to find it so you reached back into your bag, silently cursing yourself for choosing this smaller one instead of the bigger one, solely because it was a cuter bag.

“You don’t though.” Said Jungkook again, but you didn’t seem to hear it, being too focused on searching for that damned quill. If you showed up to one of Snape’s classes without being prepared again, you had another thing coming. “Y/N, you don’t hate me, right?” He asked again, at the same time your fingers brushed against the soft feathers of your quill.

“Y/N L/N. Jeon Jeongguk. Why are you two not prepared for my class? Again, I might add.” You didn’t dare to look up as you slowly took your quill from your bag and placed it on the desk. “It almost seems that you two do not take my class seriously. You are not even trying to make it look like you have prepared anything. Tell me, what potion are we supposed to discuss today?”

“Uhm, I-” You started, stammering and twitching. This man sure knows how to make you nervous.

“We are studying the Wit-Sharpening Potion sir.” Jungkook stepped in. You felt him looking at you but you didn’t dare return the eye-contact.

“Correct, fortunately for you. Your partner, miss L/N might be in need of that particular potion, don’t you think? How about you both try to brew this potion perfectly, and I might think about not giving you detention later. Sounds fair?”

“No.” Jungkook mumbled behind you, and your head quickly turned towards him and shot him a warning look.

“Yes sir.” You said loudly, still not daring to look the professor in the eyes.

“Perfect, now, how about you come sit up here, miss L/N, so I can keep an eye on you and make sure you won’t blow up my dungeons. You can stay here.” He gestured towards Jungkook.

As you quickly gathered the stuff you managed to get out on your desk to stumble after professor Snape, your head was spinning. You didn’t hear Jungkook whisper-shout your name as you took off. You sucked at Potions, and the only reason why you were passing this class was because you always partnered up with Jungkook, who excelled in this subject. Snape must know this, because by separating the two of you, you would surely fail. Which would mean that you would be having detention here, alone. You shivered again. 

After Snape delivered his opening speech about today’s class and mocking you a few times, the brewing started. You opened your potions handbook at the right page and scanned the ingredients. Ground scarab beetles, a newt spleen, ginger roots and armadillo bile. Okay, so not an awful lot of ingredients are supposed to be in this. Maybe you could actually pass this. You quickly glanced over to Jungkook to see how he was doing, and quickly glanced away when you found Ava Wells standing next to him, peering over his shoulder and being way too close. It was no secret Ava like him, and it was no secret you two hated each other. You had been close friend with Jungkook ever since you two got paired up in this very class in your first year. Ava only started to take an interest in him the beginning of this school year, after Jungkook started going through puberty over the summer. You must admit, it doesn’t hurt to look at him, and he’s one of the sweetest boys you know. But Ava always ignored him, and she still ignores you, but goes out of her way to speak with Jungkook. For example, by blatantly sitting between the two of you when you’re eating and clearly having a conversation in the great hall, or when you’re studying the library and you have to take a bathroom break and when you come back, she’s sitting in your chair and shoving your things aside. And now, by having you all the way on the other side of the dark classroom, she can doesn’t even need to push you away to talk to him. 

You once again read the ingredients list before you head over to the storage, ignoring Jungkook when you need to walk past his desk to get there. He probably wouldn’t even notice you walking by anyway, he’s probably enjoying Ava’s company and too busy to be aware of you. You huff as you open one of the cupboards and search for the newt speen you need.

“Can you believe that bastard?” You suddenly hear behind you, as Jungkook reaches from behind you, being a bit taller, and grabs two newt spleens from the shelf. “He had no reason to punish us. The rest of the class wasn’t ready either!”

“It’s okay, you’ll brew the potion without a problem anyway.” You say, as he hands you the newt spleen. “Thanks. Ugh, I can’t believe I am having to spend my night here, with scary Snape!” You sigh loudly.

“No way, you can brew this potion too! Trust me, Ava said it was easy. If she can do-”

“Oh, it’s okay.” You started to walk away from him and quickly grabbed some Scarab Beetles from another shelf as you walked past. “It’s time for me to learn how to make a potion by myself anyway.” And with that, you left the storage room.

An hour later, your potion was the daunting color of blood. Dark red, and slightly bubbling. Not the bright orange it was supposed to be. And with only ten more minutes to go, you would not be able to fix this in time. Defeated, you sat down in your chair and glared towards your, or you suppose now Ava’s, desk. Laughter erupted from over there, and even from where you were sitting, you could see the perfect bright orange of the mixtures in the two cauldrons. You turned away again.

“Well, this turned out just as disappointing as expected. I’ll be seeing you here at half past seven, sharp. Bring paper and a quill, you’ll be writing an essay on what went wrong today. Don’t be late.” As Snape silently walked away, you groaned and started to pack your things.

You placed your quill neatly to the side, so you would be able to find it faster the next time. As you finished stuffing back all your things into the bag, Snape was almost finished with his round.

“Perfect, miss Wells, as always.” He said, you rolled your eyes, waiting for the other “Perfect” to be said by him.

“This is… severely disappointing.” He said instead. You quickly turned around in shock. The happy bubbling bright orange potion sitting in Jungkook’s cauldron had changed into a… lime green? How did he even manage to do that? “I will see you too at half past seven. You will also be writing an essay on how this went wrong, and why you should never waste valuable ingredients if you do not plan on actually brewing the potion correctly.” You looked at Jungkook with squinting eyes, and he turned his head away as he made eye contact with you. He left the room before you could catch up to him.

This was the last class for the day, and you couldn’t find Jungkook anywhere. He wasn’t in the common room, he wasn’t in his dorm room, and he wasn’t in the library. You had to send a letter to your family so when you walked up to the owlery you even took a detour to walk past your favourite hang out spot, but he wasn’t there either. But you instantly spotted him when you walked into the great hall. He was sitting with Ava and her friends, talking, smiling, laughing. You took one glance and turned back to the entrance door. You’ll grab some dinner later.

When you arrived at the dungeons, 15 minutes earlier, just to be sure, Jungkook was already there.

“Why’d you do it?” You asked, slightly startling him. He turned around and smiled at you.

“I couldn’t leave you alone with him, could I?”

“But your potion was perfect!” You said. “Why are you so stupid to ruin it?”

“Because I care about you, and I know you don’t like being her on your own. Even if you hate me.”

“What are you talking about?” You said, frowning as you sat down next to him.

“Well, you said you hated me before class, didn’t you. And you decided to ignore me afterwards. And you didn’t show up at the great hall for supper.” He raised his eyebrows at you, and you scoffed.

“I don’t hate you, you dumbass.” You shoved him slightly, and he pushed you back. “And I didn’t want to bother you during your fun times with Ava.”

“Fun times? With Ava?” He said, incredulously. “Y/N, have you ever met the girl?”

“Unfortunately.” You said.

“Well, then you must know, she’s awful to be around.” You looked up at that. “I can’t even finish my sentence before she intercepts it and starts talking about something ridiculous! I can’t even tell you what she talked about during supper, and I couldn’t escape. I just laughed as if I knew what she was talking about and in the hope I could slip away. Or in the hope you would show up soon, but you never did.”

“Yeah, I skipped supper after I saw you with her.” You said, turning a bit red. Why were you acting so stupid?

“Am I detecting a bit of… jealousy?” Jungkook joked, winking at you, making you blush even more.

“No, no! It’s just, I don’t want to lose you. As a friend.”

“Just as a friend?” He said, turning his head slightly as he looked at you with those puppy eyes of his.

“Jungkook, I-” You started, but quickly shut up when the dungeon doors slammed open.

“In.” Was the only word Snape bothered to say.

“We’ll continue this when we’re raiding the kitchens later.” Jungkook whispered, as you both entered the dark dungeons once again.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

kiss me in the d-a-r-k .epilogue.

november

masterlist

Warnings: dub con sex (oral, intercourse)

This is dark!(dad)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader is back at school but her wild summer can’t be forgotten.

Note: Um, did I do this? Like did I just write this and is it going to be more than one part? I just...okay, well, this is where life is taking me right now so here ya go! I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply!

...

Everything was different and yet the same. No more English Lit, you were a Journalism major working hard towards your lifelong dream of typing for a living. Of capitalizing on the frustration of a blinking cursor as you tried to formulate a hook. After a summer of working weddings and overzealous parties, you were ready to hunker back down in your bookish university life.

Despite your shift in focus, Kylie was still very much a cornerstone of your campus life. You saw each other once a week, if you were lucky, twice. She messaged you almost daily, still grieving Taylor’s enlistment. You studied together and when you were particularly exasperated with her nagging, you let her drag you to one of her extracurricular get-togethers. 

You’d changed too. Still very much the honours student but a little less uptight. And you had a secret. A very big secret. One Kylie could never know. 

She had guessed, at least half of it. It didn’t take her much to catch on that you had finally taken the plunge. You’d finally lost your virginity. You weren’t sure if the sway of your hips had changed or your head was held a little higher, but she had guessed on your first day back in September. 

She’d beamed and bugged you for details. You were cautiously vague upon your recounting. She could never know that it had been with her own dad. You could only imagine her reaction. Never anything less than impulsive and dramatic, you knew the revelation would ensure the end of your friendship. And as one-sided as your relationship could be, it was preferable to being alone on campus.

As your communications class ended, you packed up along with the rest of the lecture hall. You were near the front as always. You folded up the small desk and shoved your books in your bag. You pulled on your harvest orange jacket as you glanced up to the front. Professor Barnes leaned on his desk as he talked with another student.

You hooked your bag over your shoulder and checked your phone as you descended the stairs to the front. Kylie’s message flashed in your vision and you swore. It had totally slipped your mind. Oh well, she could wait a couple minutes.

You neared the desk in the corner where the professor chattered with others and packed up his papers. You waited patiently as you looked up at the blank projection screen. Finally, you stepped up as the conversation ended and smiled up at him. His dark hair was limned with strands of silver, his blue eyes shone as he glanced over at you. You could have swooned, even if he was twenty years older than you. Hell, that hadn’t stopped you before.

“I wanted to sign up for that workshop,” You declared without greeting. Your nerves forced the words from your brain. “I have the form.”

You let your bag fall to your elbow and reached in to fish out the folded paper. You held it out to him and your cheek twitched as your smile threatened to fall.

“Great,” He took the form and placed it on top of the pile of essays. “I’m glad you’ve decided to do it. It will be a great experience, and seeing as you’re making up for lost time, it’ll help with that too.”

“Thanks,” You beamed. “I...I’m excited.”

He smiled and closed the folder over the papers and tucked them away. He rounded the desk as the last of the students filtered out the door. “Me, too. Your work is exceptional and I can only see it getting better.” He walked slowly towards the door beside you as he juggled his bag and pulled on his dark jacket. “Keep it up and you’ll be teaching this class in a few years. Or better, I might just see your name in the New Yorker.”

You giggled but killed it before it could turn pathetic. You preceded him into the hall as he waited for you to go ahead and he closed the door behind him. “Thanks, Professor.”

“I mean it,” He replied. “I made sure they approved your transfer. You had no place wasting away in Lit.” You smiled wider and he peeked over his shoulder and then at his watch. “Well, I’ll see you at the workshop. Monday morning.” He said. “Alas, I have a Friday night of marking to keep me company and no desire to leave it ‘til Saturday.”

“Okay, thank you, Professor,” You retreated as he turned halfway to head in the opposite direction. “Really. I’ll see you Monday.”

“Have a good night,” He winked and turned to stride down the hall as you mumbled your response. 

You watched him go and grasped the handle of your bag tightly. Shit. Okay. Stop. He was your professor. You shouldn’t make your questionable decisions a habit. Had you not learned last summer?

-

When you got to Kylie’s, you had to buzz twice. The dormitory door stuck and you barely managed to wrench it open before the lock clicked back in place. Your hands and face felt raw from the autumn wind as you climbed the stairs and the stuffy building smothered you. You knocked on her door; three other girls shared her flat and you could hear voices from within.

Marlo opened the door as she giggled to the girls in the kitchen to the right of her. She waved you in. You were there enough that they knew you by now. Shae stood in the doorway to the kitchen and they looked at each other knowingly.

“Hey,” Marlo finally stifled her scandalous trill. “Kylie’s just in her room…” She looked once more to Shae, “She’s got a visitor.”

Shae snickered. “Oh yes, her dad’s been lecturing her for twenty minutes... though I’d listen to any lecture he had for me.”

“Oh, yes, daddy,” Marlo returned. “Makes all these fratboys look like children.”

“Her dad?” Your face and heart fell. You peered down the hall to her door. It was open and you heard his voice. It was definitely him. “Maybe I should come back.”

“Nah, it’s fine, she’s tryna get him out ASAP as it is. She has a date with that Tristan guy.” Marlo mused.

“I thought his name was Troy.” Shae intoned.

“Whatever,” Marlo shrugged and nodded down the hall. “Go on and save her.”

The hallways seemed to get longer as you looked down the blue and grey carpet. The girls retreated back to the kitchen, the clink of glass jolted you. You slowly stepped forward and as you got closer you heard both Kylie and Steve. Steady, pleasant. They must’ve worked through whatever issue Steve had tucked in his back pocket.

You gulped and stepped up to the half-open door and knocked on it. They looked over in unison. For a moment the resemblance was stunning but faded away in an instant. Steve’s lips formed a crooked smirk and Kylie greeted you with her usual snarky brow.

“About time,” She crossed her arms.

“Class.” You returned sharply and reached into your bag. “Mind the state of it but here you go.”

You handed her your worn copy of Wuthering Heights and she took it with indifference and tossed it on her bed. 

“Hey,” Steve greeted, a hand on his hip as he flagrantly looked you up and down. “How’s it going?”

“Fine. Studying, you know.” You answered shortly as Kylie swiped up her phone.

“Dad, oh my god, are you staying here all night?” She whined as she looked up.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get out of your hair, just figured I’d check in while I was in the area,” Steve shook his head. “She thinks I don’t know but she’s got a boy coming over.”

“Dad!” Kylie fumed and lowered her phone.

“I’ll just be on my way too.” You assured her. “Midterms coming up.”

“Need a ride?” Steve offered swiftly. You glanced at Kylie but she didn’t seem to notice her father’s deft reply.

“I have a bus pass,” You said. “I’ll be fine.”

“Ah, let me drive you,” He insisted. “I miss the city.”

“Fine,” You accepted and Kylie was already back in her dms. 

“Okay, you guys, be safe,” She sat on the edge of her bed, “Love ya, dad.”

You lifted your brows and silently cursed her oblivion. You dared to look at Steve and he smiled triumphantly. In Kylie’s mind you’d already left so you turned and swept out the door. Easier to argue with him outside. He followed and you caught a glimpse of Marlo and Shae peeking out the kitchen as you opened the door. They gushed at the sight of Steve as he disappeared into the hall with you.

“I really don’t need a ride.” You sighed. “I appreciate the offer though.”

“Oh, come on, why are you being so cold? I know it’s been a while but...well...I missed you.” He descended the stairs behind you. “Didn’t expect to see you but I’m visiting and I can’t help but check up on Kylie.”

“I…” You turned down the next flight and huffed. “I just wanna forget about whatever it was that happened in the summer, okay? Kylie’s my friend and if she found out--”

“If she was gonna find out, she would’ve by now,” He caught your arm as you made to turn again and he pushed you up against the wall. “She won’t know. It’s fine. It was all very...natural. Didn’t it feel right?”

You looked away. Your face burned as you thought about that last night. The things you’d done with him. The sheer pleasure of his touch. The epiphany of the savage physicality. Those scene’s you had replayed in your head, and not just with him, though it had only been a reality with him.

“Steve--”

“Is there a boy? Hmm? It doesn’t bother me. You should explore your sexuality.” He cradled your face and ran his thumb over your chin. “Use what I taught you.”

“Stop.” You caught his hand. “We can’t--”

He smirked again. “So there hasn’t been anyone else.”

“No,” You answered the statement. He knew. He always read you so well. “Okay.”

He considered you for a moment. “But you’ve thought about it? About others?”

You lowered your head in defeat. He didn’t need your confirmation; he knew that too.

“So...you wanna come see my suite? It’s a nice hotel...balcony, hot tub, great view...better with you.” His breath was hot as he leaned in and you finally looked up at him.

“Goddamn it.” You cursed him just before he pressed his lips to yours.

-

The guilt wasn't enough to change your mind once your surrender was given. Why should you feel bad anyway? Kylie always ditched you for guys and she'd never know. And so it couldn't hurt her.

Steve's hand kept you distracted from your second thoughts. He gripped your thigh as he drove as he steered with one hand. You were the same nervous girl, this time barely more than a virgin. One night hadn't been enough to dissolve your natural timidity. One night could never be enough.

You stared at his fingers and your heart stuttered. You thought of all the ways he had touched you; the ways he had yet to touch you. Shit, what were you doing? Had you not promised yourself it was a one time thing? Was Kylie not your friend? Steve not her father?

The world blurred with your doubts and soon you followed Steve through the front doors of upscale hotel. Surely the man in his pressed suit didn't belong with the bookish student. Someone was bound to notice you. But this was New York and people didn't care about others or their scandals; not without a touch of fame.

"Wait, why are you in the city anyway?" You asked as the elevator doors shut.

"I got a friend down here. I had some business down this way and he asked me to hang around for a few days so we could catch up." He slipped his arm around you. "And of course I thought of you. The chance we might run into each other again."

"Oh," You said dumbly. You stepped off the elevator and he led you to a door at the end of the hall. "I...I don't know if I can do this."

"Fair enough but tell me something." He stopped and drew his arm away from your shoulders. "Did I hurt you last time? Did you not enjoy it? What is so wrong about us?"

You turned to him and searched his face. You shrugged, speechless.

"It's just sex. Whatever the circumstances, we're not doing anything wrong. We're two adults, we're attracted to each other. That's all it needs to be." He took out his room key and flicked the card with his finger. "So, you coming in?"

You looked at the door and swallowed. If you said no, you'd have to find your way home from there. You doubted he intended to drive you anywhere if you refused. Regardless, you couldn't deny the longing deep inside. These doubts were a poor mask for your real desires.

He unlocked his door and again waited for you to enter first. His suite was bigger than the boxy apartment you’d leased off-campus. He closed the door behind him as he followed you inside. You kept your distance and crossed to the large windows that overlooked the blinking and blaring city. You stared down at the distant streets as he moved around behind you.

“You gonna stay a while?” He teased and you turned to look at him as he removed his jacket and then his finely tailored blazer. You slowly unbuttoned your peacoat as he knelt to open the minifridge. “You wanna drink? Maybe it’ll help you relax.”

“I am relaxed,” The squeak in your voice was wholly unconvincing. He smiled and pulled out a small bottle of wine. 

“Sure,” He crossed to the small kitchenette and pulled out two wineglasses. He emptied the bottle into both. “So, you got into journalism after all?”

He took both glasses and neared you. He handed you one as he sipped from the other.

“Yeah. It’s...better,” You smelled the dry wine before you tasted it. “Not so repetitive.”

“Mmm,” He sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed the empty space beside him. You sat tentatively and nursed your wine. “That’s good.”

His hand crawled over to your thigh and he drained the last of his wine. You stared at yours as he squeezed and you downed it as quickly as you could to still the nerves whirring in your stomach. You almost choked as you did and he removed his hand to take your empty glass. He stood and placed them on the small table on the other end of the room.

“So...anything in particular you wanted to try?” He smirked as he turned back to you. 

You shook your head shyly as the wine gathered warmly in your cheeks. He chuckled as he resumed his place next to you. He cradled your face as he turned to you and leaned in. 

“You’re so sweet.” He kissed you and you let him. He pulled away for a moment and rubbed the tip of his nose against yours. “I haven’t stopped thinking of you. I can’t stop…”

“Steve,” You warned and he pecked your lips again.

“I’m not being sentimental,” He breathed, “I think about you when I’m alone. Horny. I imagine you’re there with me...do you think of me?”

You lowered your lashes tellingly. He chuckled and kissed you again. His tongue pushed past your lips as he devoured you and his hand explored the curves of breast and stomach. You forgot about your reluctance. Forgot about the guilt. About Kylie and what she would think. He was right, she’d never know.

He finally pulled away, his blue eyes dilated and hungry. “I want you naked.” He rasped. “Then I want you to undress me.” His hand hovered just along your waist. “Can you do that, sweetie?”

You pulled your wool sweater over your head as you stood. The wine swirled your vision. A single glass and you were tipsy already. You should’ve eaten before class. You turned to him as you untangled yourself from the wool and revealed the slouchy tee hidden beneath. He smiled up at you and took the sweater. He rubbed it between his thumbs before tossing it away.

You knelt awkwardly as you untied your boots and set them aside. How very unsexy it was as you balled your socks up together. He kicked off his shoes too and you focused on your task. You tore your tee off as you turned back to him and his eyes never left you; they clung to your hands as you worked at the layers. Admired the plain grey bra that cupped your tits despite its fraying straps.

You pulled down your jeans and he hummed in delight. The front of his pants twitched and he leaned back on his hands as he watched. As you stood, your tits threatened to spill out. You unhooked your bra and dropped it behind you and tucked your thumbs under your panties, drawing forth the last of your courage.

“Sweetie, I just don’t know how you don’t have the boys lined up,” He purred. “Look at you.”

You couldn’t help your smile. You rolled your panties down and kicked them away. As you stood up straight, he rose and stepped closer. His fingers grazed the bare skin along your hip. 

“My turn,” He intoned.

You reached up, almost without thinking, and your fingers clumsily worked at his buttons. You pulled the hem free of his pants and when it was entirely loose you pushed it down his broad shoulders. He let you as he watched silently. You looked up at him and realized you were chewing your lip anxiously. You stopped yourself and he admired your lips.

“Keep going,” He urged.

You freed him of the expensive shirt and let it crumple on the floor. You unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his fly swiftly, yoyouru fingers working more deftly as the tickle stirred between your legs. You pushed his pants down his thick legs. Twice your age and in better shape, you marvelled. 

He stepped out of the trousers and your hand absently grazed his bulge. You gasped and he shivered at your touch. You peeked up at him as you grasped the elastic of his briefs. He grinned and nodded. You bit your lip again and he reached up to drag his thumb along it. You tugged his briefs down and slowly lowered your eyes as you uncovered his cock. 

You backed away and took in the whole of him. What were you doing?

He sat down on the bed again and his cock bobbed against his stomach. He beckoned you closer with two fingers and he fell onto his back. “Get up here,” He tapped his chest.

“What?” You crawled up beside him.

“Here,” He repeated. “I’ve been dying to taste you again.”

You blanched. You were unsure. Last time, he had been in control. You’d been on your back and his face was buried between your thighs. You just had to lay there; let your instincts take over. You shakily climbed up the mattress and looked over at him as he licked his lips.

He helped you as you carefully positioned yourself over him, your knees on either side of his head. It was awkward for you. His eyes clung to your pussy and he pulled you down impatiently. His tongue delved along your folds and you squeaked in surprise. 

He flicked along your clit and back down as he drank you in. You relaxed as he lapped at you and his hands snaked around your thighs. He kneaded them and suckled on your clit as the electricity gathered in a pinpoint. You moaned and arched your back as you longed for more. He tended to you more fervently and groaned. 

You spread your fingers over his golden hair and leaned into him. The currents travelled along your back and thighs as your breath hitched. You were soon grinding against his face as you felt your orgasm mounting. You threw your head back and let out a long moan as you came, your entire being shook at the sudden waves of ecstasy. His fingertips pressed into your thighs and he hummed in delight below you.

Your hips twitched one last time and you glanced down at him. You lifted yourself on your knees as you blinked at him numbly. “Are you okay?” You gasped.

“I’m in heaven,” He assured you as he drew circles along the back of your thighs. He slipped a hand down and you looked back as he gripped his cock. “Move back. I can’t wait any longer.”

Your lips parted; breathless, stunned. Your body worked without your consent. Like it wasn’t yours at all but his to play with as he would. You lowered yourself over him and his cock brushed against your wet pussy. He shuddered and wiped his glistening lips as he watched you intently.

You reached beneath you and stroked him. His eyes widened in surprised delight. You angled him towards your entrance. Your muscles tensed hungrily as his tip pressed against you. You sank onto him slowly and held your breath. It wasn’t so painful as the first time. Of course, after your first time, it had been much easier. He had fucked you until it was too easy.

As he bottomed out you let out an airy moan and he echoed you. He reached up to play with your tits, his thumbs circled your nipples as his eyes roved the rest of your body. “Fuck, your still so fucking tight.” He pushed your tits together and moaned again.

You rocked your hips carefully. You relished the feel of him. The fullness. You hadn’t realized how much you’d wanted to feel it again. His hands fell to your hips and he guided you. Steady, slow. He watched your pussy move along his cock and his eyes darkened with unadulturated lust. You pressed your palms to his chest and sped up just a little. Your clit rubbed deliciously against him.

“Oh, sweetie,” He purred. “I fucking missed this.”

He took your hands and pulled them over his shoulders as he sat up. You hooked your arms around him as he grabbed your ass and led your motion. You bounced in his lap, the friction between your sweaty bodies seared your flesh. You panted as he guided you faster and faster. He plunged into you over and over and your walls clung to him.

A pathetic stream of moans and groans escaped you as you felt the bloom again. You hugged him tighter and he bowed his head to nibble at your tits. You quaked as you came harder than before. He pulled his head away and grabbed the back of your head as he pressed his lips to yours again.

He parted and whispered against your skin. “I’m gonna cum, sweetie. Can I cum on your tits?”

You nodded and he tapped your ass. You climbed off of him and knelt before him as his breaths were interspersed with heady groans. 

“Help me, sweetie.” 

He took your hand and wrapped your fingers around his cock. He led your first stroke than let go. He watched as your hand glided up and down his length and he clutched the blankets beneath him as he grunted. His cum shot across your chest and neck and his body trembled in his rapture.

You pulled away your hand, slick with his cum, and sat back on your heels as you hung your head. The afterglow didn’t last long as you stared at your glistening palm. You were so weak; so selfish.

“Sweetie,” Steve reached down and lifted your chin with two fingers. “Don’t do that to yourself. You’re beautiful, you deserve to be admired.” He grabbed your elbow and helped you stand. “Come here.” 

He pulled you close and fell back with you across the bed. He embraced you as his cum cooled between your chests. Your heart beat furiously against him and you closed your eyes. He sighed and ran his fingers along your hair.

“I’m here ‘til next Friday,” He said. “Lots of time to get caught up.”