#like babygirl is down bad HORRENDOUS

[jayflrt]

the misfortunes and misconceptions of lee heeseung

❝ i'll let you in on a little secret: wanting nothing to do with y/n starts with actually wanting nothing to do with her. ❞

PAIRING ▸ slytherin!heeseung x hufflepuff!fem!reader

GENRES ▸ fluff, crack, hogwarts au, idiots to lovers au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, the classic amortentia trope because what screams valentine's day like love potions, heeseung is down horrendous, sunghoon missing half an eyebrow, jake is babygirl, lots of catastrophizing, minor bending of canon for plot convenience, and a kiss scene of course

SUMMARY ▸ by no means does lee heeseung hold any romantic feelings toward you. the mere possibility is jarring, considering his luck seems to take a turn for the worst whenever he’s around you. from getting hit with a bludger during quidditch to getting into trouble with filch for setting off dungbombs in his office, heeseung starts to think you’re some sort of bad omen. he’s prepared for disaster when you two become partners in potions, but why does the amortentia smell like you?

WORD COUNT ▸ 13,497 words

PLAYLIST ▸ lavender kiss by the licks

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ this is jayflrt's valentine for you ♡

LEE HEESEUNG WAS CERTAIN YOU MUST HAVE HAD AN AFFINITY FOR NEARLY KILLING HIM REGULARLY.

When he, Slytherin’s prized Seeker, got knocked off his broom by a bludger, there was only one potential suspect he could narrow the crime down to in his head. 

In your hand was the very bat that sent the bludger in his way, hitting his miserable self square in the gut. 

This seemed to be a pattern between the two of you, where it was mostly Heeseung experiencing great misfortune because of the Hufflepuff’s mere existence. His best friend, Park Jongseong, told him that he had probably wronged you in a past life for him to suffer this much around you. While Heeseung initially brushed it off as a joke, he couldn’t help but start to question if it was actually true.

Back in his first year, Heeseung met you during the Sorting Hat ceremony, where you accidentally tripped him right before he walked up to get sorted. Everyone in the Grand Hall laughed at him, which was not his idea of a welcoming initiation into Slytherin, so he glared holes into the back of your head for the rest of the year. 

In his third year, you ran into him at King’s Cross station, causing all of his trunks to go flying. While you were helping him repack everything, you two realized that the Hogwarts Express was long gone, and neither of you could even access the magical entryway to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Heeseung cried into his hands at the train station until a professor Apparated to pick them both up, and then you teased him about his tears for what felt like forever. 

In a similar sense, Heeseung had somehow always managed to get into trouble when he was around you. Now, he had naturally grown out of disliking you for causing him so much suffering (mostly because he was far more popular now and everyone had forgotten about how you sent him flying during a duel, unfortunately revealing his strawberry-patterned boxers to an entire room of second and third years), but Heeseung was still wary about the adversity that seemed to follow you.

Were you a friend? Heeseung couldn’t tell for sure. You two spent an awfully long amount of time together, but you both also had your separate friend groups that hardly intermingled. Heeseung supposed you were more of a thorn in his side that hurt more when he tried to yank it out.

Now, there was nothing left for him to do now but clutch his stomach in pain and pray that he didn’t need to spend another night in the infirmary because of you. (Madam Pomfrey started to keep a tally; “Oh, Miss L/N didn’t injure you again, did she? Have a toffee, sweetheart,” was what he was expecting to hear from the school nurse.)

“Heeseung! Are you okay?” you asked, running up to him with your other hand clutching your broom. Thankfully, Heeseung had managed to grip his broom with one hand on the way down until he had safely landed, so there were no damages to his Moontrimmer. “Who did this to you?!”

“I know you’re holding the bat behind your back, Y/N,” he got out through gritted teeth.

He watched as you let your arm fall defeatedly to your side, revealing the Beater’s bat that violated practically every safety protocol.

“Oh, how embarrassing,” Kim Minjeong, the Chaser for the Slytherin team, said with a giggle from behind her palm. She was still floating a few feet from the ground, witnessing the damage done from her broom. Heeseung glared up at her. “Not a good look for you, Captain.”

Normally, he would shut Minjeong up with his usual threat that went something along the lines of putting a curse on her bloodline. This time, however, Heeseung was in far too much pain and humiliation to come up with a witty comeback.

Madam Hooch came running across the field to see what happened to her star Quidditch player. On the bright side, Heeseung knew that you wouldn’t get in trouble because game was game; you were just doing what you needed to ensure your victory, even though Slytherin still had a huge lead on Hufflepuff. After momentary deliberation, however, Heeseung realized that the bright side should have been the fact that he was still alive. Why was he thinking about you, anyway? He would pay galleons to see you get in trouble—but not too much trouble (and Merlin’s beard, he was far too soft).

“He needs to be taken to the infirmary,” Madam Hooch said. She spared you a glance before making a shooing motion with her gloved hand. By this time, his friends (Park Sunghoon, a sixth year who Heeseung ‘adopted’ in his second year, and Yang Jungwon, a broody fourth year with a penchant for rule-breaking) had come running down the stands and across the field. “You can visit him after you finish the match, Y/N. Madam Pomfrey can handle this.”

“Yes, of course,” you murmured, turning to Heeseung again and muttering a pathetic apology, to which he cracked a grin at. Maybe he shouldn’t have been grinning since you nearly cracked his skull open, or maybe he had really lost it this time. 

“It’s only been a week since you’ve managed to nearly get me killed.” Heeseung shuddered at the memory of you accidentally setting his cloak on fire last week with a Blasting Charm. “Don’t worry. I knew something was gonna happen sooner or later.”

Words of affirmation weren’t exactly his strong suit. 

But upon seeing the awkward grin on your face, like a blast of light that hit him all at once, Heeseung was suddenly painfully aware of everything—the awfully pleasant scent of lavender wafting from you, the searing ache from his injury, the way your hair framed your face, and the cool metal balled in his fist. 

Wait—metal?

Before he was about to be carried out in a not-so-dignified manner, Heeseung raised his arm to open his palm, revealing the Golden Snitch that sat obediently, fanning its wings out once before closing again. A gasp rose from the crowd, and then the shocked looks from both teams followed. Minjeong nearly fell off her broom. The Slytherin house all but exploded in cheers after Madam Hooch gaped at the sight, fumbled for her whistle, blew it loudly, and then announced Slytherin’s victory over Hufflepuff. 

Heeseung sighed in relief and fully collapsed onto the ground, looking up at the clear sky with contentment lifting the anguish from his brows. And now that he knew the verdict of the match, the pain finally hit him all at once, and he hoped Madam Pomfrey could fix him up before his house started celebrating their triumph. 

“Heeseung! That was an incredible play!” Nishimura Riki, a fourth year Gryffindor, cried as he came running from the stands. If by incredible, he was referring to Heeseung getting bludgeoned to the ground, then sure, incredible—outstanding, even. The flash of Riki’s camera went off, capturing a pathetic-looking Heeseung lying limp on the springy turf. “This’ll definitely make the front page!”

Ever since the Nishimura kid got an internship at the Daily Prophet, the Slytherin team had been worried about appearing on the news unprompted—most likely in unflattering angles, too. It had even gotten to the point of Song Eunseok pinning up a poster of Riki to a corkboard in the locker room, as if he was a wanted criminal at large.

“Er, could we retake—”

“You grab his legs,” a voice from behind him ordered. It was Sunghoon, who had come running with Jungwon to carry him out of the field. “I’ll take his arms.”

Heeseung balked. “Guys, wait!”

But it was no use. He was already in the air, and Jungwon and Sunghoon were both ignoring his protests.

As if he was a rather sad sack of potatoes, Heeseung was carried out, body dangling and his eyes screwed shut as he heard more flashes of Riki’s camera going off. Most of all, he wondered if you caught sight of how pitiful he was. Surely, you found it hilarious, didn’t you? He was certain he would get teased endlessly in Charms next week. 

“Nice game, champ,” Jungwon commented oh-so-casually, and Heeseung’s blood started boiling. 

“Can you put me down already?! We have magic for a reason!” he blurted out, but his two friends ignored him all the same. 

“I saw Sunoo being carried out like this the other day outside of the Dueling Club meeting room,” Sunghoon mused, and Heeseung imagined the poor Slytherin also being hauled to the infirmary like a ragdoll. “I heard he got hit with a nasty Disarming Charm. Someone nearly blasted the poor guy right into the Clock Tower’s pendulum.”

“I know. He’s better at dodging than I thought,” Jungwon replied unsympathetically. “What a shame. I’ll get him next time.”

Heeseung blanched. Poor Kim Sunoo.

But then he remembered his current state and thought Sunoo was better off than him. At least Sunoo wasn’t carried out in front of the entire school. 

Really, the reason why Heeseung was so agitated was because being Slytherin’s Seeker meant that he had an important role. It was a responsibility that clearly set him apart, and it surely had to look impressive to others—for example, you—but here he was, being carried out of the Quidditch pitch like an idiot. It put all of his hard work and countless hours of practice to shame. 

Thankfully, although his failing jock status might have damaged his ego to the point of no return, Madam Pomfrey didn’t seem to think his injuries were too severe this time. After a few healing charms, which made him feel back to normal in no time, Heeseung was ready to leave the infirmary. 

Sunghoon and Jungwon ended up leaving right after dropping him off, claiming that they had to go celebrate their win in the Slytherin common room. Heeseung found it completely disrespectful to ditch the very person who brought them to victory. 

To his surprise, you were waiting outside the door, twiddling your thumbs and doing that annoyingly cute habit of yours where you chewed on the inside of your cheek whenever you were in trouble (which, frankly, happened a lot of the time). He made a great deal of effort to adjust his cape before walking over to you with raised eyebrows, wondering if an apology was coming his way. 

“I just wanted to say,” you started, voice uncharacteristically small and wavering, but then you followed up with an incomprehensible mumble that Heeseung could hardly decipher.

“What?”

“Uh,” you raised your voice this time, keeping it steadier with extra effort, “on the way here—funny story, really—I was telling Jake about how you set off a Dungbomb in Filch’s office the other week. Honest to God, I didn’t even see Mrs. Norris!”

Although you didn’t provide a solid conclusion, he was able to connect the dots and figure out what you were getting at. He almost wished he stayed oblivious because how was this happening to him twice in a day?

Heeseung’s face fell. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“Filch is looking for you,” you finished with a guilty look drawn across your face. 

It happened to be your second guilty look of the day, actually. Two too many for Heeseung to handle. 

There was one thing Lee Heeseung was quite sure of, and it was that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with you from now on. 

The aftermath of his scolding from Filch resulted in him receiving evening detentions for the rest of the week. All you brought him was terrible luck wherever he went, and despite how nice you smelled and how shiny your hair was, he didn’t need your misfortune clinging to him like it would be the last breath he’d take. 

Honestly, any longer around you and he was pretty sure he would be taking his last breath soon.

But it was honestly ridiculous how hard Heeseung had to restrain himself from going near you. He would pass by your unbothered self in the Courtyard, hoping to get some verbal recognition from you that would change his mind about his whole ignoring thing, but you simply just paid more attention to stupid Jake Sim from Hufflepuff. 

Who cared about Jake Sim, anyway? Surely not the several girls in his year that threw themselves at him. There was nothing redeeming about him, not even with his perfect smile and perfect grades and perfect robes. Honestly, where did he get those robes? Heeseung bought his at Madam Malkin’s, like virtually every other student, but they weren’t as perfectly trimmed and fitted as Jake Sim’s perfect robes.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Park Jongseong, a sixth year Ravenclaw, sneered once he saw the glower across Heeseung’s face. “Wanting nothing to do with Y/N starts with actually wanting nothing to do with her.”

“Who said I didn’t not want anything to do with her?” Heeseung fired back, but even he was confused about his response, taking a few extra seconds to process what nonsense had just spewed out of his mouth. “Okay, look, just pretend I said the funniest thing you’ve ever heard when she walks by us.”

“Actually, that was the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Heeseung gave him an exasperated look. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re not that funny to begin with. Kind of hilarious that you think you’d be able to tell me the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You literally just told me I said the funniest thing ever.”

“Funny because it was such a pathetic thing to say. There’s a difference.”

“You’re a stupid git, you know that?”

“Am I now?”

“The stupidest of stupid gits.”

In truth, Jake was the stupid git. Jongseong could tease Heeseung all he wanted, but Jake Sim was the one grinning down at you with a stupid sparkle in his eyes, taunting the Slytherin with those evil, perfect corners of his lips. Didn’t he have better things to do? Like not taking up the oxygen in a place where he was clearly unwanted?

Also, to set the record straight, Heeseung needed to make it perfectly clear (to himself, too, because this was clearly confusing for him and everybody around him) that he was not into you. 

Probably.

Sure, he felt a smidge of fondness because you two had gotten into life-threatening situations before (all your fault, by the way), so there was probably some semblance of friendship that was only due to the fact that shared trauma often brought people together. But that was all it was. Heeseung’s feelings did not extend into anything remotely romantic; he even shuddered at the very thought. 

That was right. He was your friend, and that was all he wanted to be. Heeseung most definitely did not think about anything like holding your hand, or plucking flowers to braid into your hair, or kissing you in hidden corners of the castle. That would be ridiculous and completely unlike him.

And then you really did walk past him and Jongseong, so Heeseung took it upon himself to punch his friend’s shoulder hard and burst into forced laughter. He tried extremely hard to convince himself that this was a very normal thing to do, but soon after the act, he wanted to lay on the floor of the Owlery until the owls collectively decided to fly his body out somewhere far away—hopefully another country.

“Idiot, I’m the one who’s supposed to laugh,” Jongseong reminded him once you were out of sight. (You did not pay attention to his charade, Heeseung was sad to note.) With a scoff, he added, “You should probably hit the books ‘cause acting’s clearly not up your alley.”

Heeseung let out a retired sigh and stood up from the stone bench they had been sitting on. “I’m going to Potions.”

“Oh, you attend class now? Shocking.” 

“I prefer not spending my evenings in detention.”

“Alright. I’ll update you later on the Jake-and-Y/N show.”

“You do that, and I’ll show you how good I’ve gotten at the hair loss curse,” he spat. “I’d start investing in some hats.”

“Is that why Sunghoon’s missing half an eyebrow?”

Heeseung didn’t answer. Honestly, Sunghoon’s predicament had nothing to do with him, but he left it up to Jongseong’s imagination for the sake of intimidation.

As he stormed away (well, more of a brisk walk; Heeseung wasn’t one to storm), he realized that his friends had all sorts of misconceptions about him. He couldn’t wrap his head around why Jongseong would possibly think he was concerned about you and Jake Sim. Sure, he spent a good portion of the morning glaring daggers at Jake Sim, but there was no way that meant Heeseung was that concerned about the Hufflepuff. 

What was there to be concerned about, anyway? Heeseung was the Seeker of the Slytherin Quidditch team, scored five O.W.L.s last year, and he was the top duelist at Hogwarts. Jake Sim was just another pretty boy who Heeseung could crush under the sole of his shoe if he wanted to. 

His mind wandered to thoughts of you and Jake Sim walking back to the Hufflepuff common room together. Your melodic laugh echoing through the halls because of a joke he told; your fingers entwined with his as he carried your books for you; and your eyes practically glowing with admiration as you watched him intently. 

The thought made Heeseung sick to his stomach. Not because he liked you or anything disgusting like that, but because Jake Sim didn’t deserve to receive that much attention—not even in a hypothetical scenario that played out in Heeseung’s wild, almost sadistic imagination.

One thought comforted him, though: You had Potions with Heeseung, meaning you had to pry yourself from Jake’s side to attend Slughorn’s class. 

As he was about to approach the classroom door, Heeseung realized he had forgotten his Potions textbook. He debated whether to go in without it or run to his dormitory to fetch it, and he eventually went with the latter to avoid being clueless if today required brewing a potion. This resulted in him being about ten minutes late to class, which he decided was your fault somehow. 

Immediately upon entering the room, the pungent scent of lavender filled his nostrils, and it was all he could smell. He later recognized that there were a few other smells mixed in—the smell of butterbeer and the smell of fresh ink. The lavender, however, was so intense that it overwhelmed his senses.

It smelled like you.

Before Heeseung was about to blurt out and ask why you doused the entire classroom in your perfume, Professor Slughorn turned to look at him with brows raised in pleasant surprise.

“Ah, Mr. Lee,” he greeted. “You’re early today.”

He was ten minutes late.

“Uh, just forgot my textbook,” he said, holding up the Potions textbook he walked several, brutal flights of stairs to retrieve. 

“If you’re ready to join us, I was just going over Amortentia.” 

If Heeseung’s memory served him correctly, that was either the potion that boosted one’s memory or the potion that induced laughter. He hadn’t exactly been doing his reading over the summer, which was probably not an intelligent decision on his part considering he was in N.E.W.T. level Potions.

Either way, he was a little too preoccupied mentally replaying how his eyes met yours briefly. Heeseung walked over to stand next to you—for research purposes, of course—because he needed to know if you had really drenched yourself in lavender perfume, or if he had just gone crazy.

He nudged you with his elbow and muttered, “You reek.” 

Okay, that was definitely not a chivalrous way of putting it.

“Excuse me?” Your unnaturally high-pitched voice was hardly a whisper, but Heeseung could detect… panic?

“No, I mean your perfume,” he corrected quickly. “It’s everywhere.”

“Is it that strong?” You lifted your sleeve to sniff at it. 

“Yeah? It’s—”

“—the most powerful love potion known to wizardkind,” Heeseung heard Slughorn say as he redirected his focus to the actual lecture. “Amortentia’s said to smell different to each person, according to what attracts them.”

So it turned out that his memory didn’t serve him correctly at all.

Heeseung had his fair share of near-death experiences—probably a few more than the average Hogwarts student.

Never had he wanted so badly to combust into flames on the spot like a phoenix. Except he didn’t want to rise from the ashes; he was perfectly content with staying dead and buried without ever having to relive the last couple minutes of his life, which he was sure would scar him forever. 

Immediately, Heeseung stopped focusing on Slughorn’s lecture to conjure up some lame excuse in his head. Maybe he could tell everyone that his Muggle-born father owned a lavender farm back in the day, thus his love for lavender scents bloomed. But, Merlin’s beard, that didn’t even make sense! Just because he loved the smell of lavender didn’t mean he was in love with it. The smell was always attached to the person—the very object of his desires.

And, of course, it all pointed back to you.

Heeseung should not have had the realization that he was in love with you in the middle of Potions, of all classes. Astronomy? Sure. He thought it would be romantic to come to terms with his feelings whilst observing the celestial bodies in the sky. Divination? Even better. Gazing into a crystal ball for answers made complete sense. 

But Potions? Seriously? This was probably the least romantic place in Hogwarts aside from the haunted bathroom in the South Wing. 

No, on second thought, Heeseung saw some potential in the haunted bathroom. Something about the complete isolation of the facility made it all the more exciting.

Potions, on the other hand, was simply downright dreadful. 

“Amortentia, as you all know, is extremely dangerous. I only have it out here for educational purposes, so do not even think about touching that cauldron,” Slughorn warned. “Instead, for today’s lesson, I want you all to partner up and brew something… more lighthearted—say, Elixir for Inducing Euphoria. You can find it in your Potions books in chapter eight.”

After his lecture, Slughorn made everyone write down what Amortentia smelled like for them, warning his class about the dangers of the love potion being slipped into someone’s food or drink. Heeseung hastily wrote his down on a scrap of parchment before pocketing it where he would surely forget it existed.

He had been hoping Potion-making was going to be individual work today. He despised partner work, especially when that meant Heeseung would potentially be working with you, which didn’t prove too successful for his heart or his grades. 

More importantly, Heeseung did not, by any means, want to work alongside you after accidentally admitting that the Amortentia smelled like lavender to him.

Not to mention you were atrocious when it came to Potions. Heeseung needed more than two hands to count all the times your cauldron blew up in your face this year. Even when Heeseung took the reins and stirred the ingredients himself, you would somehow manage to expertly worsen the situation.

Thankfully, Kim Sunoo also took Potions, so as soon as Heeseung spotted the Slytherin, he grabbed his robes by the nape. 

“You’re working with me.” 

It came off more as an order than a request, but Heeseung needed to be firm to emphasize the gravity of the situation he was in. What if he died working with you? Did Sunoo want him dead? 

“No way,” Sunoo refused. “I already told Sohee I’d work with him. Plus, you never bring the right ingredients.”

Well, that was that; Sunoo hated Heeseung and wanted him dead. 

“Are you serious? Sohee?” Heeseung asked, acting as if Sohee wasn’t one of the top students in Potions. “You’re turning your best friend down?”

“No, I’m turning you down.”

“Okay, ouch.”

“Sunoo, d’you have any Sopophorous beans on you?” Lee Sohee asked as he approached the two, reading off his Potions book. “I have Worm—oh, hey, Heeseung!”

With little enthusiasm, he greeted, “Hi, Sohee.”

“Heeseung needs a partner,” Sunoo explained.

“Oh, really?” Before Heeseung could stop him, Sohee turned his head and cupped his hands around his mouth, yelling, “Y/N! Heeseung needs a partner, too!”

“Sohee!” Heeseung hissed, suddenly wishing Sohee’s head was a Quaffle he could launch into oblivion. He lowered his voice to mutter, “Have you considered that maybe I’m asking Sunoo because I don’t wanna partner with Y/N?”

He shrugged in response. “How was I supposed to know that?”

Oh, this was horrible. Not only did Sunoo hate Heeseung and want him dead, but Sohee had joined in on the cause, too. They were both clearly plotting something wicked against him.

But now he had no other choice. It wasn’t like he could turn you down after Sohee had blatantly lied about Heeseung’s intentions. This was the worst outcome yet; he was probably going to fail Potions because of you, and then he would have to write a make-up paper on the stupid elixir they were supposed to brew.

“No one wants to partner with me!” you complained, shoulders sagging and lips forming a pout when you walked over to the Slytherin. “I can always count on you, though, Hee.”

Heeseung couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

No one wanted to partner with you? What had the wizarding world come to? Where was the comradery? 

He was almost infuriated by how spineless the rest of his classmates were. Sure, Heeseung was complaining about working with you seconds prior, but you said it yourself: you could always count on him. At the end of the day, failing today’s class and writing a make-up paper was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Heeseung would always extend a helpful hand to those who needed it, or someone he was potentially crushing on.

Get a grip, Heeseung, he scolded himself. You do not have a crush on her. She’s just a good friend, that’s all. A perfectly normal, platonic friend of yours who gets on your nerves sometimes… and smells rather nice… and sort of looks extremely pretty when she has her hair tied up… and—

Okay, this was getting ridiculous.

“Yeah,” he got out in an embarrassingly choked voice. “You were my first choice, anyway—well, after Sunoo turned me down.”

There often came a time when a man had to put himself through tough situations to overcome adversity. As Heeseung approached their table, his shiny cauldron gleaming under the lamp light, he knew exactly what he needed to do.

Make sure you didn’t lay a finger on his bloody cauldron.

Sunoo and Sohee were working at the same table, standing at the bench across from them. Heeseung quickly sifted through his bag, and, as Sunoo predicted, he didn’t bring any of the ingredients necessary for the elixir. What the hell was he going to do with Fluxweed and rose oil?

“I have porcupine quills,” you said, pulling a glass jar out of your bag.

“Uh, okay, so I need you to get a Shrivelfig and Wormwood from Slughorn’s closet,” he instructed you, giving you a thumbs-up once you nodded. “I’m gonna beg Sunoo for his Sopophorous beans.”

After you walked off, Heeseung leaned over the table and muttered, “Sunoo, please give me some of your beans.”

“No,” the prick replied. 

“Please,” Heeseung begged. “Eunseok’s table took the last of them from Slughorn’s closet.”

“Maybe, but I want something in return.”

“What do you want?”

A sly grin spread across Kim Sunoo’s face. “Tell me what the Amortentia smelled like for you.”

Honestly, Heeseung was perfectly content with writing another twenty inches to make up for a failed potion. He would even take detention, if needed. Anything to get himself out of this sick and twisted situation. 

In his head, he imagined Sunoo getting what he deserved, and that was his ass getting properly kicked during Dueling Club. He envisioned Jungwon flourishing his wand and blasting Sunoo square in the gut, knocking him straight into the fountain in the middle of the courtyard.

He gave his friend a reproachful look. “I wish Jungwon’s spell hit you.”

Sunoo chuckled darkly and held up his jar of Sopophorous beans, waving them teasingly in the air. This was almost too much for Heeseung, but he committed to working with you, so he couldn’t let you down while you were off getting the rest of the ingredients.

“Lavender,” he admitted through gritted teeth. “The Amortentia smelled like lavender.”

His eyebrows raised in mock surprise. “Hear that, Sohee? Heeseung smelled lavender. You know who else usually smells like lavender?”

At that moment, you returned with the rest of the ingredients. You showed Heeseung the jars and bottles you brought over, but he was too distracted to properly examine them. His gaze remained fixed on Sunoo, eyes burning with resentment. He prayed to Salazar that Sunoo wouldn’t slip up in front of you.

Sohee, who clearly had no idea who Sunoo was referring to, blinked slowly. “Uh, Professor Longbottom? He probably smells like it—you know, with all the time he spends in the Greenhouse.”

“Yes, Sohee, I’m in love with Professor Longbottom,” Heeseung deadpanned. “Thank you for your wonderful insight.”

You made a face. “You’re in love with who?” 

“No one,” Heeseung replied quickly once Sunoo finally handed him his desired ingredients. He lit the fire under the cauldron, dropping a sprig of peppermint inside to counterbalance the possible side-effects. “Just peel the Shrivelfig and chop the porcupine quills while I stir.”

The potion-making seemed to be going smoothly for the first few steps. However, when you were chopping the porcupine quills, Heeseung’s chest leaped when he heard an ouch come from you. He forgot about his cauldron immediately and looked over to see your finger bleeding.

“What happened?” He grabbed hold of your hand, inspecting the blood oozing from your cut. “Did you slice your finger?”

“M-my hand just slipped.”

This was bad. If Heeseung didn’t disinfect and bandage the wound, then it could possibly get infected and you’d die. (Merlin’s Beard, Heeseung, it’s hardly a flesh wound, his thoughts annoyingly cut in.) He needed to get you to Madam Pomfrey before—

“Heeseung!” Sunoo yelled from over the table. 

He whirled around to see that elixir had turned a deep purple hue, bubbling up to the rim. That was strange; it was supposed to be a bright yellow color by now. Considering he was handling the cauldron the entire time, nothing should have gone badly wrong. Time seemed to slow down as Heeseung speculated what in Salazar’s name he managed to screw up.

That was when he noticed the green bottle next to the cauldron—the Infusion of Wormwood he poured in earlier. Except it wasn’t Wormwood; the brown tag hanging from the neck of the bottle read Flobberworm Mucus.

Before he could curse himself for not reading the label properly beforehand, the failed elixir rose all the way to the top and shot out of the cauldron, spewing purple liquid all over their table and burning a hole through the wood. Slughorn’s head turned sharply in their direction, and he crossed the classroom to see what mess you and Heeseung had caused. 

“Evanesco!” the Potions teacher shouted, making the substance vanish in an instant. Slughorn looked mostly unsurprised as he turned to face you and Heeseung, letting a retired sigh slip. “Five points from Slytherin and Hufflepuff—and twenty inches on the properties of Amortentia by next class.”

“Twenty?” you cried, nearly gasping from the shock. “But, Sir, we have so much work from our other N.E.W.T. classes already!”

“And we have the Hogsmede trip after class,” Heeseung chimed in. 

And, bless his heart, Slughorn was far too kind of a soul to be too strict with either of you. He typically had high expectations for those he taught, especially the ones he sought out for his reputable ‘Slug Club,’ but he had a soft spot for his N.E.W.T. students.

“Alright then, well… you and Mr. Lee can write twenty inches together and bring it to me,” he decided in his bumbling voice. 

When he walked away, Heeseung let his shoulders sag. He couldn’t believe he had to write a paper over this—and with you, no less. He should’ve known that he was cursed to stumble upon misfortune again, but, at the same time, he just couldn’t find a way to blame you. Sure, you were the one who took the wrong bottle from the Potions cabinet, but Heeseung really should’ve double-checked the label before he poured it into the cauldron.

“Oh, well,” Sunoo simpered, wearing a proud smirk, “writing about Amortentia shouldn’t be hard for you, huh?”

Heeseung demonstrated his hair loss curse on Sunoo after class.

“I might get a D on my N.E.W.T. for Potions, Hee,” you complained to him later when you both had snuck away to the lakefront to work on your remedial paper. There was a nice patch of grass that Heeseung liked to sit on and contemplate his miserable life, so he figured that he’d share the location with you. “Or maybe even a T—oh, Godric’s Heart.”

“Hey, failing with distinction would be much more impressive than just downright failing,” he tried. 

“Not helping.”

“Sorry.”

Heeseung had a total of four words written on his parchment so far, which happened to be both of your first and last names. He wasn’t sure how he would get to twenty inches without delving into the smells of Amortentia, which he already figured he would need to use a personal anecdote for. He was trying his best to avoid that since it would lead to a rather awkward conversation. 

However, everyone was leaving for Hogsmede shortly, so Heeseung was hoping that you would decide to set aside the rest of the paper for later. 

As if the universe was rubbing Heeseung’s misery in his face, Jake Sim came strutting over in his stupid, perfect robes. (Except it was quite a normal walk; no strutting whatsoever, actually.)

“Just got out of Arithmancy?” you asked him with a gut-wrenching, brilliant smile on your face.

“Yeah, Seunghan and I were heading to Hogsmede with everyone else,” Jake answered before his gaze drifted to Heeseung. Something seemed to light up in his eyes and he started reaching into his robes. “Hey, nice game yesterday! Did you see that, uh… where did I put it…” After some rummaging through his pockets, Jake pulled out a piece of parchment which seemed to be a clipping from the school newspaper. “You made the front page!” 

Heeseung peered to see a moving picture of himself laying on the Quidditch pitch, half-conscious as the Golden Snitch rested in the palm of his hand. Next to him, Sunghoon and Jungwon gave the camera a thumbs-up and feigned shock at the sight of the Seeker on the ground. 

He was definitely going to be sending Riki a Howler. 

“Lovely,” he replied half-heartedly, fighting down a scowl when he realized that Jake wanted him to keep the clipping. “I’ll hang it up with the rest of my collection.”

Jake laughed, even though Heeseung was dead serious. He had an archive of mortifying photographs of him that Riki had taken ever since he stepped onto Hogwarts grounds. Collecting them was intentional, of course; Heeseung needed evidence for the Wizangamot if he planned to sue Nishimura Riki for defamation one day. If Heeseung had known how much of a nuisance the Gryffindor would be, he would’ve plotted for the kid to be sent back home right after his Sorting Ceremony. 

“We have a remedial paper to write,” you told Jake glumly, “so I don’t think we’ll be going to Hogsmede today.”

Jake shrugged. “I’ll see you in the common room later, then.”

“Bye-bye.”

Once Jake walked off to find his friend, Heeseung shot you a dark look. There might have been something warm and soupy in his chest whenever he even looked in your general direction, but he wouldn’t let this slide. 

“I’m not skipping the Hogsmede trip.”

“But we have to finish—”

“But Hogsmede,” he whined. “Can’t we meet in the library after and work on it?”

“I have a Transfiguration quiz I need to study for.” You sounded distressed for a moment, but you quickly brightened up. “Who are you meeting in Hogsmede?”

“Uh, well, no one in particular. Just wanted to check out some stores.”

“Then how about we go together?” you suggested. “We can work on our paper in The Three Broomsticks.”

“Oh.” Heat suddenly rose to Heeseung’s cheeks, and although he desperately tried to convince himself that your proposal did not sound like a date, he couldn’t shake how excited he was to spend some one-on-one time with you. “That works for me.”

On Salazar’s name, Heeseung was going to murder Sunghoon and Jungwon in cold blood.

While you and Heeseung had gotten cozy in an empty booth, brushing shoulders as you two looked over the first paragraph you started, his two dear friends decided to show up where they were clearly unwelcome. Apparently, mouthing get the fuck out of here wasn’t sending the message across.

Sunghoon was on some long tangent about how he barely scraped by on his O.W.L.s, but Slughorn finally gave him the green light to take Alchemy. For some odd reason, Alchemy was only available as a N.E.W.T. class, so Sunghoon had been anxious the whole summer over whether his O.W.L. results would be enough. 

“Didn’t you get five O.W.L.s?” Jungwon asked, bored.

“Six—A in Herbology,” Sunghoon corrected. “I hate plants.”

“Longbottom let you in with an Acceptable?” Heeseung raised his brows with mild interest, but he quickly steeled his expression. He was not entertaining their company, no. He started practicing the fine art of Legilimency to send a message to Sunghoon: go away, go away, go away, go away.

“He said he was especially impressed that I got into his N.E.W.T. class.”

“Oh, yeah,” you spoke up, pointing at Sunghoon. “Yizhuo told me she had no idea you were in her class until you showed up for exams.”

“I also didn’t realize she was in my class until you mentioned that.”

“How’d you even pass?” Heeseung asked.

“No clue,” Sunghoon replied honestly. “The exam was fine, but I thought the practical would be the end for me. Turns out I’m a natural. They even clapped after I ripped the leaves off a Venomous Tentacula. Like, big deal, it’s a plant.” 

Everyone at the table froze. Heeseung practically jumped seconds later, hitting his leg against the underside of the table. He had long abandoned his goal of kicking Sunghoon and Jungwon out of The Three Broomsticks. You choked on your butterbeer, wiping some of the foam off your chin. Jungwon’s eyebrows raised in disbelief. Heeseung’s knee hit the underside of the table, suppressing a groan. There was a shuffle below.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed you ducking under the table for a moment. However, he was too astounded by Sunghoon’s story to divert the topic. 

Heeseung set his butterbeer down and asked, “You just walked over and used your bare hands?”

“I suppose not showing up to class has its upsides,” Jungwon said. “Ignorance is bliss.”

“Sunghoon, do you even know what a Venomous Tentacula does?” you asked.

“What? Photosynthesis?” 

“Well, other than the snapping jaws that can either stun or kill you, and the vines reaching out to strangle you when you’re least expecting it,” Jungwon started (which didn't sound like a very pleasant start, to be honest), “there's also the venom that shoots out from its sprouts—oh, and the thorns that can kill you if you prick your finger.”

Sunghoon looked disturbed before muttering to Heeseung, “And they call Hogwarts the safest school on Earth. What a joke.”

You excused yourself shortly after the conversation came to an end, claiming that you spotted a friend a few tables over. Heeseung pretended to listen to Sunghoon and Jungwon trying to guess how old Professor Binns was, but really he was keeping an eye on you. Minjeong was whispering something to you, paused when you wrapped your arms around her, and then turned her neck to say something with sudden enthusiasm. 

Heeseung wondered how it would feel if he was sitting in that seat instead of Kim Minjeong, if your arms were draped around his shoulders like that. He thought of your hair falling into his face, how he’d brush it away and turn his head to kiss you—

Dangerous waters, he warned himself. Do not go there.

“Every time I ask him—and, mind you, it was only a couple of times—he falls asleep before he can even give me an answer!” Sunghoon complained, bringing Heeseung’s attention back to the topic of the ancient History of Magic professor. “Heeseung, has he ever told your class how old he is?”

“Couple hundred years probably,” he answered. “Can you guys leave now?”

They gawked at him, offended. 

Now Heeseung had realized he had driven himself into a corner. He couldn’t tell them the real reason why he wanted them to leave. If his friends found out that he wanted to spend time with you alone, then they would misconstrue the situation into something involving feelings—something which Lee Heeseung might have had but refused to admit out loud or to himself. 

“You two have been distracting us from finishing our paper,” he said instead, pointing at their unfinished essay. “Twenty inches! And we hardly have two.”

Jungwon, who saw right through him, asked, “You just wanna spend time with Y/N, don’t you?”

Heeseung coughed loudly, as if that would cover up whatever the Slytherin just said. “What?”

“It’s so obvious,” Sunghoon said. “Would we really be your best friends if we couldn’t pick up on who you’re into?”

“I am not into—” Heeseung paused to weigh his words. His recent revelation brought him to the point of no return; he couldn’t just lie about how he felt now. He threw an anxious look over his shoulder to make sure you were still preoccupied with Minjeong. “We have a paper to write.”

Sunghoon threw his head back to laugh. “See? You can’t even deny it.”

“It doesn’t even matter; she’s into Jake.”

They went silent. Glanced at each other out of the corner of their eyes. 

“Jake Sim?” Jungwon asked. “And Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“Jake Sim… and Y/N.”

“Yes,” Heeseung repeated with impatience seeping past his teeth. 

“What makes you think she’s into Jake?”

“Uh…” Heeseung was now irritated that he was being put on the spot because nothing was coming to mind. He just thought of you and Jake laughing together in the courtyard and jealousy wrapped tight around his heart. “I saw them together.”

“I saw you in Filch’s office the other day,” Sunghoon said. “Are you two a thing?”

Heeseung scowled at him, but before he could fire back at his friend, Jungwon said, “Just tell us you want us to leave so you can spend time with Y/N, and we’ll go.” A sly grin spread across his face, and he scarily resembled Kim Sunoo at that very moment. “You should probably make up your mind before she gets back.”

Struggling for a way out of this situation, Heeseung gave them both dirty looks. He had no choice but to give Jungwon and Sunghoon what they wanted. You were going to wrap your conversation up with Minjeong any minute now, so he had to act now before his friends terrorized him for the rest of their Hogsmede trip. 

“Fine,” he said sharply. “I wanna spend time with Y/N alone, so leave.”

Right on command, the two boys made a big scene about having to leave, throwing their hands up in exasperation and getting to their feet slowly. Sunghoon shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck as if it was a pain for them to be ordered around. Heeseung sank back into his seat in embarrassment. 

“Alright, alright, we’ll go,” Sunghoon drawled, “but you better tell us all the details after.”

Heeseung gave them his word, even though he was sure the update would simply be finishing their essay. Once Jungwon and Sunghoon strode out of the pub, he turned his gaze back to Minjeong’s table. For a moment, he just watched how your hair shone under the warm lighting. Heeseung had to avert his eyes when you turned around again to walk back to his table. There was a strange look on your face, like you were trying to work through a puzzle in your head. 

“Where’d the others go?”

For the entirety of their Hogsmede excursion, Heeseung had been trying his hardest not to look at you when you were so close to him. Now, though, with his friends gone, it was just you and him sitting almost shoulder-to-shoulder. 

He realized he was staring at your lips instead of answering your question. He licked his lips involuntarily and looked away. 

“Uh, went to check out some stores, I think,” he lied. “Should we get back to work?”

Slightly distracted, you replied, “Yes, let’s.”

The remedial paper was finally at an impressive twenty inches by the time you and Heeseung thought it would be best to start walking back to the school.

There weren’t many students around anymore as most people didn’t want to miss dinner in the Great Hall. Heeseung felt like something was off. You were focused on the paper the entire time, hardly engaging in any side conversation or recalling some fun memory. When you two ran out of things to write about Amortentia and stumbled upon the topic of describing its scent, Heeseung managed to steer away from writing about how the potion smelled for him. Instead, you two went for a more informational route with zero personal anecdotes.

The walk back to the castle was long, but Heeseung really hadn’t expected you to bring up the topic of Amortentia again. He thought hours of writing a paper on the potion would put you off of it for a long period of time. 

“So, you remember Slughorn showing us the love potion in class, right?” you started timidly while the two of you were crossing a bridge in Hogsmede. You didn’t even let Heeseung get to the trail to Hogwarts before you started your interrogation. “What’d it smell like for you?”

Fuck.

Why was everyone so interested in what the Amortentia smelled like for him? It wasn’t supposed to be some groundbreaking piece of information, and it wasn’t a big deal that it smelled like your signature scent! There were far more interesting things to converse about, like how nicely the leaves were arranged on the trees, or how interesting of a shade the sky was. 

But there was no way for him to avoid this question—not when you were staring at him so adamantly—so he resorted to lying. A white lie never hurt anyone, after all. Or, well, anyone important. 

“Like… books,” he answered, trying to keep his voice as level as possible. 

“Maybe you and the librarian are meant to be,” you teased.

“I guess sneaking into the restricted section makes the heart grow fond.” 

You laughed, and, Merlin’s beard, what a melody. Heeseung could listen to your voice all day. Preferably on a warm day while he was stretched out on some grass with your head on his lap, or maybe he’d like to be laying on your lap. Either way, he would be perfectly content just listening to you talk his ear off until—

“Y’know, that’s funny ‘cause… well, you wrote lavender here,” you said, chewing on the inside of your cheek and holding the very scrap of parchment that was supposed to be tucked away in Heeseung’s pocket.

Suddenly, he felt the urge to shut himself in the Slytherin common room and never hear you speak to him again.

In the couple of seconds he was malfunctioning for, many thoughts raced through Heeseung’s head.

First, he wondered if there was still time left to request a Ministry-issued Time-Turner under the guise that he would use it for his classes. Instead, its intended purpose would be to reverse time until Heeseung had somehow gotten himself out of this situation or destroyed that stupid piece of parchment.

The second revelation that struck him was that he must have dropped the paper in The Three Broomsticks. It must have fallen out of his pocket when he hit his knee under the table. There was a moment when he noticed you picking something up from the floor, but he hadn’t dwelled on it, expecting it to have just been a napkin. 

Lastly, he had gone extremely still—to the point of halting in his tracks and staring at you, wide-eyed. His body had completely seized up to the point where he almost thought he was shaking. Shaking—but he was shaking. He was shaking all over. Or maybe he wasn’t. He couldn’t tell. Heeseung clenched a fist to make sure he had control over his body. 

“Heeseung?”

You stopped walking, too, looking at him curiously. For a moment, it looked like you were going to apologize for reading what he wrote down, but you looked down at it again.

“Did the love potion smell like lavender?” you asked in a soft voice. Looking visibly flustered, you said in a rush, “I’m just asking because Minjeong said I always, uh… smell like lavender, and I just thought…” 

He needed to run. He needed to get out of here. He needed to disappear.

Heeseung felt like his blood was rushing through his ears, pumping so loud that he couldn’t hear anything but his heartbeat for a moment. You were saying something, but he couldn’t even make out the words your lips framed. The world had slowed down, and Heeseung wasn’t quite sure if his feet were planted firmly on the ground. 

He would have rather been anywhere else—maybe at Sunghoon’s house where his mother’s baked goods wafted from her kitchen window. He could envision the meadow right behind their house and how he spent the summer in the grass, practicing Quidditch with Sunghoon and his little sister. Jongseong would arrive days later to complain about his O.W.L.s for three hours straight until Sunghoon and Heeseung felt the life oozing out of their bodies. 

But here, with your eyes sparkling with determination, Heeseung felt like he was about to melt into a puddle. He was consumed with the ungodly urge to grab ahold of you and kiss you until his blood felt like electricity in his veins. Yes, he needed to be anywhere but here—anywhere where his feelings weren’t worn on his sleeve for the world to see. 

You started again, “Heeseung—”

Before you could get anything else out, Heeseung, who was overcome with the will to escape, felt something pulling him from behind. In a flash, he was whisked out of thin air with a tug behind his navel, leaving you gobsmacked and stranded in Hogsmede. 

He felt like he was being pushed through a thin vortex, squeezed by the fabric of reality tearing and reshaping itself around him. It took him some gasping breaths to get lungfuls of air into his body, but once he could breathe right again, he realized he was definitely not in Hogsmede.

“Excuse me?” Heeseung asked a nearby townsperson who was walking past him. He must have looked ridiculous in his Hogwarts robes, body awkwardly sprawled over two bales of hay. “Where am I?”

“Feldcroft,” the wizard answered.

He Apparated to Sunghoon’s hometown.

Not only did Heeseung spend thirty minutes trying to Apparate back to Hogsmede, but he was late for dinner. You were long gone, of course, but it seemed like you hadn’t exactly abandoned Heeseung. When he arrived on school grounds, Slughorn and McGonagall were waiting for him at the gate. This was definitely going to earn him a detention or two. 

Apparently, you ran back to school to tell McGonagall about what happened. The headmistress also noted that you were sobbing because you were convinced that it was your fault somehow. You happened to be under the belief that Heeseung wouldn’t know how to get back, which he couldn’t argue with because he considered himself lucky to Apparate back without splinching himself. 

After receiving a lecture from both professors about the dangers of Apparating unsupervised, Heeseung received two punishments: one week of detention and he wasn’t allowed to go on the next Hogsmede trip. However, he also received a pat on the back from Slughorn and a congratulations from McGonagall for a successful Apparition. 

When he recounted the story to Sunghoon, Jungwon, and Sunoo in the common room the following morning, they were howling with laughter. He had to pause approximately four times for them to catch their breaths.

“It’s not that funny,” Heeseung deadpanned.

Sunoo, who was wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, replied, “It’s kinda funny.”

Sunoo was also missing several patches of hair, which Heeseung generously didn’t point out. 

“Did my mom give you anything to bring back?” Sunghoon inquired. “I’ve been craving her tarts.”

“I didn’t exactly have time to drop by your mom’s and pick up some tarts! I was trying to Apparate back to Hogsmede, if that wasn’t already clear!”

“On the bright side,” Jungwon said, “you’ll probably pass your Apparition exam now. Sunghoon lost half an eyebrow while he was practicing yesterday.”

Sunghoon, with one and a half eyebrows, grimaced.

“So, you left Y/N hanging and she had to walk back alone?” Sunoo asked, tutting lightly as he shook his head. “Now you stand no chance of asking her out.”

Heeseung tried to cover up how taken aback he was by coughing into his arm, expertly hiding his reddening cheeks from his friends. “It’s not like that.”

“Uh-huh,” Jungwon said. “So, you’d be perfectly fine with Y/N going out with Jake?”

Heeseung’s face turned sour as he turned to look at the Slytherin. “She’s going out with who?” 

“It’s a hypothetical question.”

“Well… who she goes out with is none of my business.”

Sunghoon barked out a laugh. “Then why’d you get so worked up?”

“I’m not getting worked up,” Heeseung replied firmly, huffing as he got to his feet. “I simply don’t think she and Jake Sim are compatible, but my opinion’s got nothing to do with her.”

“Yeah?” A ghost of a smirk was plastered across Sunoo’s face. “Why don’t you think they’re compatible?”

There was a fire in the center of Heeseung’s chest, blazing and scorching his heart. He felt as if he would pass out from the immense pressure in his chest, but then his body felt so hot that everything seemed to slip away. He thought of you and Jake again, thinking about how you smiled up at him in a way Heeseung had never seen you smile at him.

The fire in his chest raged. 

“Because I exist,” he answered loudly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a Defense Against the Dark Arts class to attend.”

Whether they were awestruck or dumbfounded, Heeseung’s friends watched him leave the common room with crooked grins on their faces. He was extremely satisfied that he managed to get his two cents in without his voice cracking or wavering.

After Sunghoon was left in the common room with Sunoo and Jungwon, he slumped back in his seat and asked, “Since when did he go to class?”

Defense Against the Dark Arts was Heeseung’s favorite class. Not because he particularly enjoyed dueling or any violence of the sort, but because Professor Weasley was the only teacher who didn’t assign papers every other day. He preferred a more hands-on teaching method, which usually involved partnering up and practicing spells on fellow classmates.

Plus, when Heeseung was in moods like these—moods where he felt like he was going to burst into flames much like a phoenix would—he looked forward to blasting someone across the room. Someone preferably like Jung Sungchan, who didn’t take it personally when he conjured columns of fire in rapid succession. 

Because he was so hot with unexplained anger and unrestrained emotion, Heeseung had to set the record straight (evidently for himself, too) that he most definitely harbored romantic feelings for you.

Admittedly, this was clear after he smelled the Amortentia, but Heseung refused to allow Potions to be the class that made him aware that he was in love. He could almost envision Slughorn taking credit for his future wedding, and the very thought made him shudder. 

The fire in Heeseung’s chest grew into more of a wildfire tearing through his body once he saw Jake Sim in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

He completely forgot that Jake took this class, too. The cherry on top was that Jake and Seunghan decided to sit at the desk right behind Heeseung and Sungchan, so he could hardly focus on Sungchan rattling on about Trelawny giving him detention when he was trying his hardest to eavesdrop on Jake’s conversation.

Right when Heeseung heard Jake talking about something potentially dark and dangerous (buying a Pygmy Puff), Professor Weasley raised his wand to signal that he was starting class. 

He started discussing familial curses, which Heeseung found especially interesting because he had almost considered a career path as a Curse-Breaker. It was a dangerous line of work, according to Professor Weasley, who used to be one himself before the second wizarding war, but Heeseung thought it was an honorable job to help remove dangerous curses.

Professor Weasley decided to stray from his usual ‘partner up with the person next to you’ and instead asked everyone to practice the Shield Charm with another student who was sitting around them. This, in turn, made Heeseung’s heart drop to his stomach.

If Sungchan wasn’t an option, then Heeseung was hoping he could partner with Seunghan. He quite liked the Hufflepuff, despite him being friends with the public enemy named Jake Sim. Seunghan had always been fun to talk to, and they became closer in fifth year when they were both sent to the infirmary and had beds next to each other. Madam Pomfrey was eventually tired of the two boys practicing jinxes on each other. 

Sungchan and Seunghan partnered up almost immediately, and then the girl sitting in front of Heeseung had run off to her friend as soon as the words slipped from Professor Weasley’s mouth. There was no one else for him to turn to—no one but Jake.

“Do you have a partner yet?” Jake asked shyly, and Heeseung had to fight down a bitter retort; obviously he didn’t have a partner, or he would’ve gotten up by now. “We can practice together, if you want.”

Heeseung reluctantly got to his feet. “Sure.”

They were an odd pairing, for sure. Heeseung couldn’t help but feel awkward around Jake, and it seemed as if Jake felt the same way, even though he did his best to be overly-friendly. 

Jake decided to be the one defending himself first, so Heeseung was graced with the opportunity to cast offensive spells at him all he wanted. He was having far too much fun casting Expelliarmus and Stupefy at Jake and watching the Hufflepuff draw his wand up just in time to shield himself. 

“You’re really good at this!” Jake said, eyes wide with what Heeseung assumed was fear. “Do you duel often?”

“Not really,” he answered. “I just have good aim.”

“Quidditch.” He made the connection quickly with a far too happy look on his face. “I’ve seen you fly. You’re really good.”

Quit playing nice! Heeseung was yelling at him in his head. It was proving quite difficult to viciously attack the Hufflepuff while receiving compliments in return.

“Yeah?” Heeseung gritted his teeth. “Do you watch Y/N—Stupefy!—play?”

“Y/N?” Jake looked confused for a moment, but his smile never faltered. “Yeah, of course! I always support Hufflepuff.”

Oh, right. They were in the same house. Logically, this was where Heeseung should’ve backed off, but jealousy seized him by the throat and made his head go funny.

He sent another streak of orange light flying in Jake’s direction, aiming right for his perfect hair. Jake deflected it. 

“Anyway,” Jake continued as he started to get the hang of performing wandless magic, “you guys are playing against Gryffindor next, right? I really think Slytherin’s gonna win. I mean, you guys have such a strong team, and…” 

As he kept droning on about how great the Slytherin Quidditch team was, Heeseung couldn't help but feel a bit confused. He was here to intimidate the Hufflepuff, but now he felt like he was at some sort of meet and greet. Why was Jake so bent on praising the Slytherin team? Heeseung assumed that the whole incentive for Quidditch games was for house pride, but Jake seemed to be taking it way too seriously. 

Come to think of it, Heeseung did find it strange that Jake had that defamatory newspaper clipping of Heeseung injured on the ground. Why would he specifically go looking for an article of the Slytherin team’s victory?

Heeseung lowered his wand when he heard a yelp to his right. Hong Seunghan had his wand raised over his head, a nearly-invisible shield circling his body that Heeseung could vaguely make out under the lamp light. 

“Watch it! This isn’t target practice, Heeseung!” Seunghan cried, looking absolutely distressed as he hastily adjusted his yellow-trimmed robes.

Heeseung’s Stunning Spell would’ve hit Seunghan if he hadn’t reacted in time. On one hand, he felt bad; on the other hand, he really thought Seunghan should’ve been patting himself on the back for his quick reaction time instead.

“My bad,” Heeseung mumbled. So much for his so-called good aim.

“And you,” Seunghan said—to Jake, this time, “stop distracting him with all your Quidditch talk!” 

Yeah, you tell him, Seunghan, thought Heeseung, who actually quite enjoyed talking about Quidditch.

To his surprise, Jake’s face started to flush pink. “I-I’m not trying to distract him or anything… I was just making conversation.” 

Seunghan threw him a lazy smirk before turning back to Heeseung and rolling his eyes playfully. “Put him out of his misery and set him up with your friend, will you?” 

“What?” Heeseung couldn’t stop himself from fuming at Seunghan’s words. The fire in his chest ignited once more, blazing with the heat of a thousand suns. 

Sungchan, who had been waiting patiently to attack Seunghan, rubbed the back of his neck. “Er—can we get back to—”

“Seunghan, drop it already,” Jake pleaded, his voice growing smaller and smaller. “It’s not happening.”

Seunghan shrugged and returned to blocking Sungchan’s attacks. The two of them seemed to be having fun with the exercise, at least. Heeseung and Jake were a disaster; Heeseung was far too vexed to think straight, and Jake was as bashful as a first year.

“You can ask her yourself, you know,” Heeseung said coldly, shooting a jet of red light in Jake’s direction. Jake barely managed to cast his shield in time to deflect Heeseung’s spell.

“I can’t,” Jake replied, all meek and timid again, which made Heeseung’s blood boil. 

He saw how comfortable Jake was around you, so why was he acting like this now? He was comfortable enough to walk up to you while you were with another guy; he was comfortable enough to keep eye contact while you smiled so radiantly at him; and he was comfortable enough to ask you to go to Hogsmede with him, so why was this such a big deal? 

Heeseung felt sick to his stomach. He wanted this class to be over so that he could go to his dormitory and wallow in his miserable state.

Jake sighed wistfully. “She probably has no idea I even exist.”

Heeseung blanked. 

He tossed around Jake’s words in his head a couple of times, trying to make sense of what he was saying. Heeseung perfectly understood being shy around a crush, but wasn’t this a bit much? From what he had observed, you most definitely knew of Jake’s existence.

Still confused, Heeseung replied, “I’m pretty sure she does.”

“Really?” Jake’s voice was louder, more hopeful. “She does? I mean, I guess she has to know I exist since we’re in the same class and all, but has she… has she ever mentioned me?”

Heeseung wondered if he should just stun Jake and leave class early.

Deciding against it for the sake of not receiving another week of detention, he answered, “Well, yeah, a couple of times.”

“Really? What did she say?”

“Uh…” Heeseung scratched his head as he tried to remember. “Something about telling you how I set off Dungbombs in Filch’s office.”

It was Jake’s turn to look confused. 

“That was Y/N,” he said.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Wait, did you think I was talking about Y/N this whole time?”

Heeseung had to duck this time when his spell rebounded off of Jake’s shield and went flying in his direction. He stood up straight again, this time with his eyebrows furrowed and his ears bright red from realizing that he was about to embarrass himself yet again. 

“You’re not?” he asked.

“No!”

“Then who are you talking about?” 

“M-Minjeong,” Jake stammered out. “Kim Minjeong.”

Heeseung stared at him. For a moment, he wasn’t even sure if this was reality; this could have all been some hyper-realistic dream—one of those absurd ones that hardly made sense but left him gasping for air when he woke up. 

But Heeseung’s feet were planted firmly on the ground and he had all ten of his fingers, so this couldn’t be a dream. Yet, when he drew in a shuddering breath, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was very wrong about this whole thing. Had he really been wrong about Jake Sim this entire time?

Also Minjeong? When he was friends with you? Heeseung wasn’t one to judge people’s tastes, but he’d swim oceans for you yet hardly cross a puddle for Minjeong. (Perhaps that was just because he resented the Slytherin girl for always making fun of his Quidditch screw-ups.)

So that was why Jake had been overly-invested in the Slytherin team. He wasn’t a Quidditch-fanatic whose house pride flew out the window; he was just harboring a crush this whole time! Heeseung was so relieved that the inferno in his chest had quelled. 

In fact, he was so relieved that he let out a shaky laugh without having half the mind to hold it in. Jake must have thought Heeseung was making fun of his crush, but Heeseung couldn’t help but laugh and laugh about how pathetic he had been this whole time. He had lost sleep over Jake Sim, only for him to like someone completely different. 

How ridiculous.

Heeseung crossed the distance between them and patted him firmly on the back, taking the Hufflepuff by surprise. “Minjeong, huh? I’ll introduce you.”

Jake’s eyes shone. “You will?”

“Of course I will. Now, tell me,” Heeseung started, his voice taking on a serious edge as he slung an arm around Jake’s shoulders, “where did you get your robes?”

It was such a lovely day outside; the grass was greener, the skies were bluer, and there wasn’t a single cloud in sight—perfect weather to fly. Heeseung could even hear the birds singing as he strode down the hallway, trying very, very hard to keep himself from skipping. 

He wasn’t even trying to eavesdrop, but he picked up on the conversation a couple of fifth years were having nearby.

"—heard they both had to go to the infirmary!” one of them whispered to the other. “It was that bad!”

“Over a silly game?” The other girl, who Heeseung named Girl Two in his head, scoffed. “I’ll never understand Quidditch.”

Girl One shook her head. “Not over the game. It was over Lee Heeseung.”

Heeseung, who was slowly realizing that he was the Lee Heeseung they were gossiping about, suddenly felt very engaged in this conversation that he wasn’t part of. His guilty pleasure happened to be listening in on all of the scandalous happenings at Hogwarts. For him to be indirectly involved was even more exciting.

“Lee Heeseung?” Girl Two frowned. “Why would Y/N pick a fight over Lee Heeseung?”

He nearly tripped over his own feet. Heeseung had to scurry behind a pillar before anyone saw him blushing like a madman, but now he was worried about how strange it looked for him to be spying on a couple of fifth years from behind a pillar. 

Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. You fought someone? And you were in the infirmary? His sick happiness was quickly replaced with dreadful worry. 

(But he also wasn’t too worried; you could clearly handle your own.)

“No clue,” Girl One said. “I suppose they’re dating.”

Heeseung couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping his lips. He clamped a hand over his mouth as soon as it slipped out, and Girl One and Girl Two looked around suspiciously. 

“Who was that?” Girl Two asked sharply. 

“Must be that Ravenclaw girl,” Girl One replied bitterly, taking her wand out of her robes.

Heeseung had no idea who ‘that Ravenclaw girl’ was referring to, but he knew that he was no longer safe in their vicinity. After casting a Disillusionment Charm on himself, he fled the scene immediately, only removing the charm once he was safely down the hall. 

He hadn’t even realized his heart was racing faster than it ever had in his life until he found himself sprinting in the direction of the infirmary. 

“Mr. Lee, no running in the halls!” Professor Longbottom cried over his shoulder, gripping the pot of a Mandrake tightly. “That’ll be five points from—oh, forget it.”

Madam Pomfrey looked unsurprised to see Heeseung walking in, all sweaty and panting. She simply pointed in the direction of where your bed was and walked off to tend to some second year who, judging by the twigs in his hair, decided to test his luck with the Whomping Willow.

You were sulking in bed, turned on your side so that your back was facing Heeseung. It looked like you were mostly unscathed, but when Heeseung rounded the corner of your bed, all he could see was red when he noticed the cut on your lip and gash on your cheek. 

“Heeseung!” you gasped, sitting up straight so that you could swing your legs off the bed. “How’d you know—”

“Who did this?” he asked angrily, drawing out his wand and looking around the infirmary. He remembered Girl One saying that both parties were sent to the infirmary, so they must have still been around. “Who hurt you?”

“It’s not that bad, I just—”

“Not that bad?” he repeated louder. “You’re hurt!”

“It’s not that bad,” you said again, quieter. You held onto Heeseung’s bicep with gentle hands, which happened to immediately calm him down. “Sit.”

Heeseung sighed and sat down on the edge of your bed. He had felt remarkably happier after finding out that Jake did not, in fact, have a thing for you, but now he was riled up again. He wondered what you thought about Jake, but then Heeseung wondered why you were picking fights over him.

“It was the Seeker from the Gryffindor team,” you told him in an oddly calm voice, although he couldn’t help but notice how you were fiddling with your fingers too much. “She was talking down on you during class, so I picked an argument with her after class. That’s how I got these.” You pointed at the cuts on your lower lip and cheek. 

“But you don’t need to worry about her; she’s worse off than I am. I got her with a knee-reversal hex,” you said with a sheepish grin. “Let’s see how she flies after this.”

Heeseung stared at you. “You’re insane.”

“I believe the words you’re looking for are thank—”

“I love you.”

He believed he said it very, very softly, but his words echoed in his head so loudly that Heeseung couldn’t be completely sure that he hadn’t yelled it for the infirmary to hear. If it weren’t for the second year complaining loudly about how unsafe it was to have a murderous tree on school grounds, then Heeseung was sure the room would have been dead silent following his confession. 

You didn’t move. The worst was happening right now; Heeseung had boldly blurted out his feelings just for you to not answer him and soon hate him for the rest of your life. It was fine. You two would graduate soon. He would no longer have to see you again, even though the smell of lavender would be a constant reminder of his first love and first heartbreak. He would die alone now. Oh, and he’d have to tell his parents with deep regret that they would not have grandchildren. 

“Heeseung,” you whispered, and your lips started framing soundless words that you couldn’t get out.

The cat was out of the bag, so all Heeseung could do was stand up and own up to his words.

“You were right,” he said. “My Amortentia did smell like lavender—like you.”

He grabbed the rag on the table next to your bed, soaking it in water and wringing it out. Normally, Heeseung would have been shaking like a leaf, but he was oddly calm as he delicately held your chin, tilting your head to the side enough to get a good look at you. 

“I must’ve fallen in love with you years ago—maybe even from the first time you tripped me at the Sorting Hat Ceremony,” he said softly as he dabbed at your fresh cut, and although your eyes were wide and glossy, you hardly even flinched. Heeseung was pretty sure he had never even admitted what he said out loud to himself. When he was done and set the rag aside, he said, “So… glad I got that out before I kept it to myself for the rest of my life. I’ll get going now and hopefully not kill myself on the way.”

He hurried past Madam Pomfrey, making eye contact with no one except the Gryffindor Seeker, whose knees were bent at an awkward angle. She leered at him, to which Heeseung paid no attention because he had far bigger things to worry about, like the fact that his life was over.

Before he got all the way down the hall, though, he heard footsteps getting louder and louder. When he turned to see you speeding after him, Heeseung panicked and started running himself. 

“Why are you running?!” you cried.

“Why are you chasing me?!” he yelled back. 

“Stop running! Get over here, Lee Heeseung!”

“No!” He was very embarrassed to note that his voice did indeed crack. “I’m scared!”

“Colloshoo!” 

It was like he had rammed right into a wall. Heeseung felt like his shoes were glued to the floor, and, with a grunt, he ended up falling forward and landing on his face when they wouldn’t budge. If only you had waited to hex him after he reached the grassy outdoors instead of the hard, stone flooring of the breezeway. 

“You hexed me!” He turned to look at you, exasperated. “How could you hex me after hexing someone for me?!”

“Now stay there.”

“No.” Stubborn, Heeseung started walking ahead—right down to the Great Lake so that he could wallow in embarrassment in that particularly nice patch of grass. He abandoned his shoes and trudged ahead in his socks. “And don’t follow me!”

“Heeseung,” you warned. 

He groaned and turned on you just before he was looking forward to sitting down on the grass, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “You—you’re terrible luck, you know that? Sheer bad luck. You know I’ve lived eleven years of my life perfectly fine until you showed up? Suddenly, everything goes wrong when I’m around you! And it’s not just missing the Hogwarts Express or blowing up a potion, it’s everything else!”

You calmly listened to him as he continued in his wild craze, “I can hardly breathe when I’m around you! I can’t even look at you for too long, or else I’ll probably combust. You make it so impossible for me to stay away from you, even though the very thing I need for the sake of my sanity is to stay away from you!”

“Are you done now?” you asked calmly, not quite breathing as hard as he was, but your chest was still rising and falling as if you were winded from running. 

“Yes,” he said, “so I’ll go drown myself in the—”

Before he could finish the rest of his sentence, you grabbed Heeseung by the front of his robes and pulled him down to kiss him senseless. He thought he had been hit with a Stunning Spell from how still he was, but when he realized that this was real life and you were indeed kissing him, his hand made its way to cradle your jaw as he kissed you back with searing passion.

He was ashamed to say that he had dreamt about this scenario many times, charted all of his next moves in great detail, and fantasized about doing much more than he’d like to admit. Heeseung felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest, but he kept his lips pressed to yours like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. 

This was everything and more than he ever expected. He was certain he could never grow tired of the taste of your lips, and he was honestly scolding himself for not having done this sooner. 

Your arms naturally found their way around his neck, and Heeseung took that as his cue to drop his to your waist. Still locked in a tight embrace, you pulled away to catch your breath, leaving Heeseung to chase after your lips.

“—Great Lake,” he finished his sentence in a breath, “and hopefully get eaten by the Giant Squid—”

“Oh, shut up,” you cut him off to kiss him again. 

Heeseung had no further objections. He supposed this meant that he had the shiny new title of being your boyfriend, which he considered a higher honor than Quidditch Captain. This was saying a lot because Quidditch Captains got to use the really nice bathrooms.

Your kiss was slower this time, as if you both realized you had all the time in the world. And when you both finally broke apart, Heeseung let his fingers trace the outline of your lips to commit its shape to memory. 

This time when you smiled, it was far brighter than any Patronus Charm he had ever seen.

“I love you, too,” you told him with a shy grin. “Always have.” 

“Seriously?”

“Since our first year. Tripping you was by accident, of course. I just thought you were cute.” 

Heeseung was pretty sure the average wizard's heart couldn’t handle this overload of emotions. In a few seconds, he was sure he would need to be admitted to the infirmary himself. 

Then, you punched his shoulder. Hard.

“If you didn’t Disapparate on the spot back in Hogsmede, then maybe I could've told you sooner!” 

“It’s not like I wanted to Apparate away, but… but you put me on the spot!” he exclaimed. Heeseung let his shoulders sag. “Either way, I thought you liked Jake.”

“Jake?” You looked confused before you burst into laughter. “What made you think I liked Jake? He’s so clearly into Minjeong!”

It seemed to be that everyone thought the notion of Jake and you liking each other was absolutely ridiculous. If it wasn’t too late, Heeseung was up for pitching himself in the depths of the Great Lake.

Girl One and Girl Two would surely get a kick out of this. 

“Okay, I get it. I’m stupid,” he said, but you wouldn't stop laughing. Heeseung sighed heavily as you wiped tears from the corners of your eyes. “Alright, that’s it, you’re so getting it.”

This time, he grabbed hold of your face (gently, of course, because he didn't want to add pressure to your gash), and he peppered kisses all over your face. You scrunched up your nose, giggling as Heeseung kissed your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, and then finally your lips. 

And this—this moment he had been anticipating for seven years—was loads better than letting the Giant Squid eat him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE ▸ the next morning, heeseung wakes up and basks in the afterglow of finally confessing to the girl of his dreams!! jay hands him the paper during breakfast and a picture of his shoes glued to the floor is on the front cover. anyways i hope you liked this fic!! so fun to write because i'm deep in a harry potter phase (how did this happen??) but happy valentine's day & thank you for reading <3

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[joelscruff]

feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART SIX

previous chapters | again, thank you so much for all the love on this fic. it's so beyond overwhelming and wonderful to know that people are enjoying this story. i hope you enjoy this chapter, let me know! and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave me a tip 💕 chapter summary: it's time for your first official "lesson" with joel. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: age difference (joel is in his 50s, reader is in her early 20s), innocent/inexperienced reader, praise kink, dirty talk, pet names, mentions of religion, catholic guilt, fingering, oral (f receiving), lap-sitting, grinding word count: 8.7k ao3

You feel ridiculous.

You stare in your bedroom mirror at yourself with a look of pure mortification, assessing the beige dress you're currently wearing that your mother picked out from her own closet, falling to your ankles and bagging off your hips in the most unflattering way imaginable. It looks like a potato sack with long sleeves, long and floppy and absolutely horrendous.

You slowly shake your head at your reflection as she comes up behind you with attentive eyes, assessing the same trainwreck you are. You can see in her expression that she's similarly disappointed in the way it looks.

"I'm not wearing this," you say quietly, trying not to sound too harsh, "Please, Mom, this doesn't fit me right."

She bites her lip, eyes still scanning you up and down, "You're probably right," she sighs.

She wants you to dress modestly for your first lesson with Joel. You'd settled on Saturdays as your official "lesson" day, a perfect choice in your opinion as you now have an excuse to go to his house on the weekend without having to lie to your parents about where you are. You want to appease them in some way, your mom in particular; you've felt so bad about all the lying you've been doing, you feel you owe her something. And that something is apparently agreeing to let her pick your outfit, a decision you're already regretting immensely.

"The navy blue one was nice," you say, gesturing toward one of the other options she's laid out on your bed - one that's actually from your own closet and not hers, "I know I've grown out of it but it's not that short."

She walks over to your bed and picks up the dress in question with an exasperated sigh, eyeing the clock on your night stand, "I guess it'll have to do, we're running out of time. You don't want to be late," she hands it to you quickly, "You'll have to wear stockings with it though."

You nod - that's a compromise you can deal with.

She gives you some privacy to change, leaving you to fight your way out of the oddly shaped beige atrocity on your own. It crumples into a pile at your feet and you kick it to the side with a little too much aggression. Imagine if she'd actually made you wear that - Joel would never want to touch you again.

The thought of Joel sends a rush of warmth throughout your body as you slip into the other dress, velvet and modest but nowhere near as awful as the previous one. You'd talked to him on the phone last night after he'd finished work, cuddled in bed against an extra pillow in place of him - you'd slept so well on Thursday night when you'd slept in his bed, felt so safe and warm in his arms, you're now doing anything you can to replicate it. You'd wrapped his flannel shirt around it, coating it in his scent.

"I miss you," you'd whispered through the phone, the insecurities from the previous night almost nonexistent as you nuzzled your cheek into the fabric of his shirt, "I know I saw you this morning but I can't help it."

He'd laughed lightly, soft and familiar in your ear, "I miss you too, babygirl. Miss havin' you in my bed."

You'd taken only one deep breath before admitting softly, "I miss your cock."

He'd groaned, low and deep, "I know, darlin'. I know you do."

You'd both had simultaneous orgasms about ten minutes later, your name on his lips as he came into his fist and you buried your face in the pillow you wished was him, fingers scissoring inside you. You walk over to your bed now and pull up the mattress a bit, tugging his shirt out from underneath while you have a spare moment alone. You bring it to your face and inhale deeply, eyes closing and heart fluttering; you're obsessed.

"Ready to go?" your mom calls from downstairs, and you quickly shove the flannel back under the mattress, making sure it's hidden before you dash to your dresser to grab a pair of stockings. They're black and stop at your thigh, the edges hidden beneath the dress; you already know Joel will take them off soon enough.

You immediately notice the grimace on your mother's face when you appear at the bottom of the stairs and you wonder what you've done wrong already. She assesses you again without saying anything, gnawing on her lip and circling you a bit.

"Can I go?" you ask quietly, unsure what she's going to say, "I don't wanna be late."

"Where's your crucifix?" she finally says, tilting her head slightly, "I don't think I've seen you wear it all summer."

Astute observation - you haven't worn it all summer. It's still upstairs in your jewelry box, exactly where you'd left it when you went off to college several years ago. You'd begun to resent everything it represented and no longer felt like parading around with it on your neck like you'd done your whole life. The thought of wearing it now after so many years of forgetting it even existed... well, it certainly doesn't appeal to you whatsoever.

But you are trying to make up for all the lying, even if she doesn't necessarily know it.

You plaster a forced smile on your face, "I'll go get it." She mirrors it and nods as you turn around and head back up to your bedroom. Do it for the lessons, you think to yourself calmly.

Looking in the mirror after clasping the gold cross around your neck is a trip to the say the least. You suddenly feel ten years younger, standing in your bedroom preparing for an early service, Sunday School homework crumpled in your backpack and an immense weight of pressure on your shoulders to be perfect. You stare at the crucifix and feel that familiar sense of guilt begin to creep in, surrounding you in a quiet but palpable void of judgement that you've spent years trying to escape.

Why the fuck are you doing this? Why are you so hellbent on following the rules, after everything you've done? Why does the approval of your parents still mean so much to you? How is any of this even worth it?

You swallow back the pain you feel, the guilt, the anger, the resentment, all of it. Now is not the time to have an existential crisis; you have a "lesson" to go to - something you are not going to feel guilty about, no matter how bad your former Catholic brain may want you to.

As if by some ironic miracle, your phone buzzes and you unlock it to see a sudden surge of text messages in your college group chat:

have fun at your lesson 😘

don't do anything we wouldn't do!!!

pls give us all the details later 🥵

ITS ENTIRELY POSSIBLE TO SUCK DICK ON ACCIDENT JUST FYI

A breathless laugh escapes you, relief flooding your body at the sudden sense of normalcy, the reminder that what you're doing is not wrong. You're so glad you told your friends about what's been going on - you can't imagine keeping this secret all to yourself any longer. Knowing that they're there, that they support you and care about you and want you to have these experiences... it's enough for you to turn from the mirror without a second glance.

It's just a fucking necklace.

--

You arrive on Joel's doorstep at exactly ten o'clock, smoothing down your dress a bit and taking a deep breath before knocking. You're not sure how he's going to react to you standing there in all your Catholic glory, hair down and parted through the middle, crucifix dangling from your neck, hymn book weighing heavily in your purse. You still feel like that past version of yourself, shifting nervously from right foot to left as you stand there waiting for him to open the door.

The knob finally twists and there he stands, tall and broad in front of you. Your eyes widen when you see him, lips parting in surprise - the exact same reaction he has when he sees you.

He's dressed up. No band t-shirt or jeans to be seen, no bare feet or messy hair or disheveled beard. His grey curls are gelled back, demure and handsome, scruff trimmed up to shape his jaw. He's wearing a grey button down tucked into a pair of black dress pants, shoes that look freshly shined. For all intents and purposes, he looks like he's about to go to a church service.

You both stand there staring at each other without saying anything, both pairs of eyes scanning up and down your bodies with almost no regard for politeness. You're speechless, completely in awe of his sudden transformation, a transformation you certainly had not been expecting.

"I thought, uh-" he chokes out, breaking the silence between the two of you as his hand reaches up to awkwardly touch the back of his neck, "I thought your mother might bring you."

You continue to stare at him, a ball of emotion suddenly growing heavy in your throat, "Y-you wore this in case my mom came with me?"

He slowly nods, suddenly looking a bit sheepish as his eyes scan the road behind you for any onlookers, "I wanted to make a good impression."

With a shaky inhale full of a feeling you can't describe, you take a step toward him, unable to stop yourself from reaching forward to grab his hand, "Joel," you whisper, barely audible and almost alien in your mouth - you're so used to calling him Mr. Miller, "That's... that's..." you don't even know what to say, words completely failing you.

"It's no big deal," he says with a small smile, tugging on your hand and urging you to follow him inside, "C'mere."

As soon as the door closes behind you he's grabbing both your hands and pulling back to look at you again, eyes still awestruck. You can't help but feel embarrassed when his gaze freezes on your crucifix.

"My mom made me dress up," you mumble, "I know, it's a lot."

He nods and clears his throat, taking a long exhale through his mouth as he continues to peer at you, "I'm a bad man." Your brow furrows, confused for a moment before he laughs breathlessly and shakes his head, "I am, I must be, 'cause I shouldn't find you wearin' all this so damn sexy."

A giggle slips past your lips, skin warming as he entwines his fingers with yours and moves forward a bit to tower over you, eyes trailing to your lips.

"I mean it, darlin'," he whispers with a tender smile, "You look... fuck, you look pretty."

"Thank you," you whisper back, tilting your head up a bit more, waiting for him to kiss you - and he does. It's soft and sweet, not the type you'd been expecting after a comment like that. He seems slightly reserved as he kisses you, squeezing your hands in his and pulling away far too quickly, "What is it?" you ask quietly, raising an eyebrow, "What's wrong?"

He shakes his head again with a chuckle, "Nothin' at all, babygirl. I'm just... I'm tryin' to keep at least some of these next two hours focused on learnin' guitar."

You make a face, "Oh. Right."

"Remember what I said the other night?" he looks down at you with a playful smirk.

We'll make it sexy.

A smile spreads slowly across your face, "I remember."

--

He sits you between his legs on the couch, just like the first time he'd touched you. He noses your shoulder and breathes you in, pulls you close as he carefully places the guitar into your lap. His arms are warm and comforting, thighs strong and safe. You lean back into his touch immediately with a sigh of contentment, closing your eyes.

"Now, how am I supposed to teach you if you've got your eyes shut?" he asks with a laugh. You pout and open your eyes again, turning your face a bit to catch a glimpse of his relaxed expression.

"Sorry, it's just - you're distracting."

He snorts and redirects your attention to the task at hand, reaching down to capture your fingers in his and bring them up to the neck of the guitar. It's already distracting having him so close, but you can feel the shape of his cock against your lower back; it's not even hard -not yet, anyway - and your heart is already pounding.

"I mean it," you mutter softly, "I can't think when you're so close to me. Not after..." you trail off, feeling your cheeks warm at the thought, "Not after what we did the other night."

You feel him smile against your jaw, lips ghosting your skin, "I know, it's overwhelmin' isn't it?" His fingers trace the shape of yours, pressing gently against the guitar, "That's normal, sweetheart. We took a big step."

You can't help but lean back into him as he speaks, head coming to rest gently on his shoulder, forehead brushing his neck, "It felt so good," you whisper, secretive and shy, "When you were on top of me like that. When you had your mouth..."

He hums softly in understanding without you having to finish the thought, turns a bit to nose your hairline, "You want my mouth on you again, huh?"

"Yes."

He kisses your skin softly, lingering for a moment before moving his face downward, "How 'bout this?" he murmurs, pressing another soft kiss to the bare skin at your neck, "How 'bout I teach you three chords? Just three," another kiss, this time to the spot above your collarbone, near your crucifix, "and when you can play them for me without my help, I'll give you a reward."

"What kind of reward?" you breathe, eyes closing again as his lips graze your neck back and forth.

"Somethin' that feels really good," he whispers, and you swear you feel the tip of his tongue flutter against you for a brief moment, warm and wet, "Somethin' new I wanna show you, if you'll let me."

"I'll let you do anything," you admit, voice shaky, "You know that."

He smiles against you, then slowly licks a long stripe up from your neck to your cheek, an act that probably would have disgusted a previous version of yourself but now sends you reeling, skin going hot beneath his mouth. You turn your head toward his and he captures your lips in a searing kiss, the kind you'd expected at the door, full of arousal and sex and the promise of more. You're already wet and throbbing when he pulls back to peer at you.

"I know," he murmurs, hand that's not on the guitar coming up to hold your chin between his thumb and index finger, "You'd do anything I asked, huh?" You nod, eyelashes fluttering as he thumbs your chin and whispers, "Such a good girl."

Your mind is empty as he releases your chin and takes your other hand in his, bringing it down to the strings. You let him move you the way he wants to, adjusting you a bit between his legs so you're pressed more firmly against him, his broad chest tight against your back. You can't help but let out a breathless noise, almost a whimper.

"I know," he repeats, voice calm and soothing as he pushes his groin forward so his clothed cock makes even more contact with your lower back, "I know, babygirl, it's so much, isn't it? Feelin' so many different things," he carefully adjusts your fingers on the neck of the guitar, places them on the correct strings and murmurs, "You can do this, I know you can. And then you'll get your reward, I promise."

His words are smooth as butter and have almost no meaning at this point, thoughts foggy as you press down on the strings and try your best to focus on what he's asking of you. You're suddenly completely pliant under his touch - he could pick you up and bend you over the kitchen counter and you'd let him, wouldn't even have a thought in your mind as he did it.

But he won't - that's not why you're here.

Learning guitar chords with a half-hard cock digging into your back and warm breath at your neck is much easier said than done. You don't know how you manage to get through the fifteen minutes it takes you to learn the C chord, and the ten minutes it takes to learn what you think is the D chord - you can't even remember now, you're so distracted by his body against yours. He's teaching you G when you feel yourself slipping, thighs rubbing together to seek some kind of relief. It's never felt like this before; usually you'd be touching yourself at this point or he'd be touching you. The lack of contact almost hurts, your pussy throbbing around absolutely nothing and dampening your underwear, begging silently to be relieved in some way.

"What's wrong?" he whispers, big fingers still pinning yours to the neck of the guitar, stubble scratching against your skin as he presses a feather-light kiss to your ear, "Tell me, darlin'. Why're you wigglin' around like that, huh?"

He knows why; you can feel the smirk on his face, sense the teasing edge to his voice. He's enjoying this, having you completely under his spell while you try your hardest to learn and remember. His cock is getting harder by the second, the movement of your hips and ass certainly not helping the situation by any means. You know what it looks like now, what it feels like, can picture it in your mind growing stiffer and stiffer, leaking from the tip through his pants.

"Feels f-funny," you manage to whimper, forcing yourself to strum out your first G with shaky results. You try again, pushing your fingers more firmly against the strings with Joel's help, feeling his nose trailing gently across your temple.

"What feels funny, sweetheart?" he murmurs, and part of you wants to rip yourself from between his legs, toss the guitar to the floor, and straddle his lap, grind yourself down on him. You've never done it before but you can suddenly see it in your mind plain as day, an obvious solution to the problem in your panties that's growing worse by the second.

"My pussy," you moan, closing your eyes and tilting your head against his shoulder again, hands loosening on the guitar, "It hurts."

He pulls you in closer, inhales your perfume and releases a low groan, "Poor baby," he murmurs, "I know, honey, you're just achin' to be touched, huh?" He tightens your fingers against the strings again, eyelashes fluttering against your neck, "Come on, sweet girl, you almost got it, you're so close."

You're not sure he intends for that to have a double meaning but it makes you groan nonetheless, a weak sound that makes him chuckle. He removes his fingers from yours and waits for you to show him the chord without help - you can feel his eyes on you as you shakily strum. You wince when it comes out sounding wrong.

"Gotta push down harder," he murmurs, "You almost got it, babygirl, show me."

"I can't," you whimper, shaking your head, "I can't, Mr. Miller, it's too much, please."

"Shhh," he soothes, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck, "You can, darlin'. You're doin' so good." You feel him pull your dress up in the back as he speaks, and then he's suddenly pulling you up and into his lap, sitting you directly on his clothed cock. "You just gotta push a little bit harder." He grinds against you at the word, firm and purposeful, pinning you to the solid length of him.

"Oh my god," you gasp out, awestruck by the feeling of him, so big and thick and warm beneath you. Your pussy continues to pulse and throb and you know you're already starting to soak the nice pair of dress pants he'd worn for you, covering his crotch in your slick.

It's somehow still not enough. You find yourself grinding down onto him, matching his own movements as your hands squeeze the guitar and your thighs push together. You whimper pitifully in his lap, squirming and making a mess but too horny to care about how ridiculous you probably look.

"You feel my cock against your pussy, baby?" he asks, voice low and deep, and all you can do is nod frantically, a moan tearing from your throat, "That feel better? Think you can play now?"

You truly don't think you can, but he's clearly still waiting for you to show him. Your whole body is on fire, hands trembling as you push your fingers against the strings as hard as you can, strumming out the G chord with more success this time. You sigh in relief, loosening your grip on the guitar and leaning back into his touch.

"Now show me all three," he whispers.

"Mr. Miller," you groan, frustration and arousal starting to fully overtake you, "Please."

"Shhh," he repeats, "Shh, baby, it's okay. It's okay, I'll touch you this time. Just play those three chords while I play with your pussy, alright? Can you do that for me?"

You nod again, swallowing tightly as you reposition your fingers on the neck of the guitar and try to remember where they're supposed to go for the C chord. It's impossible to focus as Joel snakes his arm up around your belly, slips his hand down beneath your dress to where you're aching.

"Lemme feel," he murmurs, fingertips tickling over the wet spot of your panties and pressing down gently against you, "Oh, she's throbbin', babygirl." You moan again, borderline hysterical as he uses two fingers to circle your hole through the fabric, callused tips prodding your folds. "Shhh, I know, baby, I know. Keep goin honey, keep playin'."

You don't know how you do it, have absolutely no idea how you manage to actually strum out the chords while he's touching you like this, but you do. You shakily play the C as he slips his index finger inside your panties and places it against your hole, feels how much you're dripping for him and groans into your neck.

"Always so fuckin' wet for me," he murmurs, "Never even had a cock inside you and your pussy's so ready for it every time, babygirl, just beggin' to be filled up."

He pushes both his index and middle fingers inside as you play the D chord, slipping them in with barely any resistance as you grip the guitar and try your hardest to keep going, to not give up - you're so close, in more ways than one. You whimper when the tips of his fingers brush gently against that spongey part inside you that you can't reach yourself.

"That's it," he encourages you softly, slowly beginning to fuck you with them, pulling them out and pushing them back in as he noses your neck and breathes you in as you tremble, "I know, sweetheart, feels so good, doesn't it? One more, baby, one more."

Tears are stinging in your eyes as you strum out the G chord, the last one you need to play in order to get your reward, to end Joel's teasing and finally get what you were promised. You push your fingers down as hard as you can and play it with a finality that makes him smile against your skin.

"All done," he murmurs, taking the guitar from you with one hand and tossing it to the other end of the couch. You moan out a sound of relief and he pulls you in close, holds you firm against his lap and speeds up his fingers, fucking you harder and smiling wider when you cry out in pleasure, "Good girl, angel, good girl."

You can't speak, jaw going lax and eyes hooded as his fingers plunge in and out, his other hand spread on your belly as he pushes you down onto his cock. You turn your head slightly to bury your face in his neck, biting down on your lip and letting the sensations overwhelm you, whimpering when you feel his cock twitch and pulse through the material.

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" he asks huskily, "Didn't even wanna learn guitar today, did you? Just wanted to come over and be my good little girl, get fucked by my fingers and grind against my cock, that right?"

You're unable to answer any of his questions, letting your body do all the talking for itself as you become completely loose and pliant under his touch, a ragdoll in his lap as whimpers continue to escape your mouth.

"Wearin' this little dress," he murmurs, "And these fuckin' socks," the hand that's not on your pussy comes down to rest on your thigh, squeezes the bare spot between your dress and your stocking, "Just beggin' to be touched, babygirl."

You should've seen what I had on before I left the house, you think to yourself, remembering the beige potato sack and thanking the heavens that your mother hadn't made you wear it. You watch as Joel pulls up your dress in the front, exposing both of you to the pornographic image of his hand inside your panties, fingers fucking you relentlessly while you drip and soak everything within reach.

"You want your reward now, baby?" he asks you softly, pulling your hair back and pressing a wet kiss to your temple, fingers beginning to slow, "Huh? You wanna try somethin' new?"

"Y-yes," you manage to finally speak, voice faint and weak, "W-want it so bad." And it's true - you don't even know what it is but you're dying for him to do it already, teach you something else that's not just chords on the guitar.

At your words he pulls his fingers out of you and you whine, petulant and frustrated as your hips buck in his lap. Without a word he pulls you off of him and carefully slips off the couch, placing you back against the cushions where he was sitting. You watch with wide eyes as he kneels on the floor in front of you, hands coming up to rest on your knees as he slowly pushes your legs apart.

"W-what are you doing?" you whisper, but a small voice in the back of your mind tells you that you already know, recalling past discussions from your friends that you'd listened to with curiosity. Is he...? Is he really going to?

"Gonna kiss it better, baby," he breathes, hands trailing up to the edges of your stockings and carefully thumbing your bare skin, shuffling closer and looking up at you with those big brown eyes, "Gonna make you feel so good."

"Isn't it..." you feel yourself frowning, thoughts muddled, "Don't guys not like..." you're not sure how to word it, grimacing, "Aren't you supposed to hate doing that?"

His brow furrows, "And where'd you hear that from?"

"My friends at college," you breathe, "They say guys hate doing it. Or... or they don't know how to do it right or something like that."

He surprises you when he smirks, eyes going devilish and sexy in that rugged way you love, "That's 'cause college girls usually sleep with college boys, babygirl," he says softly, "And college boys are dumb as rocks."

You giggle at his words, thinking back to that freshman party you'd attended where the handsome college boy had rejected you, gone for your friend instead. Joel's words are validating, comforting.

He pushes up your dress a bit more, then drags your panties down your legs, completely soaked. He smirks again at the sight of them, squeezes them in his palm before dropping them to the floor and picking your legs up to place them on his shoulders, pulling you toward him. You let out a gasp, eyes going hooded again as he scoots you forward and then dips his head down, presses a kiss to the soft skin of your inner thigh.

"This," he murmurs against your skin, "is one of my favorite things to do in the whole world." He kisses your other thigh, the hint of his tongue just barely flicking out to wet your skin, "And I wanted to do it to you," another kiss, "since the first day," and another, "you showed up on my doorstep."

You're losing your breath again, lips parting as he finally brings his lips to where you're aching for him, soaking the couch with your arousal. He presses a small and tender kiss to one of your outer lips, then the other, then carefully moves his hands up to thumb them apart, holding you open for him. You don't dare make a sound, biting down hard on your lip as you watch him look at you, take you in.

"Prettiest pussy I ever saw," he says quietly, breath fanning out over your wet skin, "I mean it, sweetheart. Ain't never gotten to kiss a pussy like this," he leans forward then and presses a small kiss to your clit, feather light. Your hips buck immediately, an odd sound coming from the back of your throat as you try to keep yourself together, "I know," he murmurs, "Just let go, honey. Don't hold back, want you to come all over my mouth."

And then he's licking a stripe up your folds, just like he'd done to your neck, long and languid and wet. Your eyes roll back, head hitting the back of the couch as he tastes you. The feeling of his mouth on such a sensitive part of you is indescribable; your head is suddenly empty again, no thoughts to be found other than feels so good, feels so good, feels so good. You don't even realize you're saying it out loud until he laughs, mouth vibrating against your pussy in the most perfect way.

"Love this cute little clit," he murmurs, kissing it again and then tugging it into his mouth with his tongue, sucking on it and making you writhe on the couch, fingernails digging into the cushions. He hums around it, pulls off it relatively quickly, then drags his mouth downward and pushes his tongue inside your hole, fucks you with it as your head lolls atop your shoulders.

College boys really are dumb as rocks.

"Your tongue," you moan out, eyes scrunching together as gasps continuously rip from your throat, "Oh fuck, oh my god." He licks inside you, pulls his tongue out to suck your labia, nose bumping against your clit. You shriek, hands coming up to cover your face as you bite down so hard on your lip you fear you might draw blood.

"Tastes so fuckin' sweet, babygirl" he says gruffly, pulling away for only a few seconds to peer up at you, chin glistening with your juices, "Just like I knew you would." He drops back down to suckle on your clit again, the tip of his tongue circling it over and over until you're on the verge of completely falling apart, a fire burning inside your belly that's growing stronger and stronger by the second.

The only thought that comes into your mind before you come is how sinful you must look right now, wearing your Sunday best, crucifix around your neck, hymn book strewn to the side as your fifty-six year old neighbor eats your pussy, coaxes noises out of you that you didn't even know you could make. You should feel ashamed, should feel sorry, but you don't. In fact, it's probably the hottest thing you've ever experienced in your life.

You have no time to give him any sort of warning, not that he needs one anyway. With one final suck to your clit you're gone, hips bucking upward as you cry out into Joel's living room pathetically, eyes shut tight as you flail beneath him. He puts his hands on your hips, pins you to the couch so you don't fall off as you come all over his mouth, just like he asked.

You lay there for what feels like a long time, body like jelly as you sink further and further into his couch. He peppers tiny kisses all over your pussy, avoiding your clit as not to cause you too much overstimulation, then very slowly pulls back to look at you, dropping your thighs from his shoulders.

"Good reward?" he asks softly, and all you can do is nod.

You listen as he gets up and busies himself in the kitchen for a moment, running the tap. He returns with a wet cloth and a glass of cold water, handing it to you before dropping back to his knees to wipe you clean. You hiss a bit when he touches your clit, hips stuttering.

"Shh, it's okay," he murmurs, "Just cleanin' you up, sweetheart."

When he's done he scoots in beside you on the couch, lets you curl up against him and lay there for a few quiet moments, breath evening out as you come back down to Earth. He strokes your hair, kisses your forehead, thumbs your cheek.

"That felt really good," you finally whisper softly, eyes hazy as you open them to look at him, "Thank you."

He smiles, charming and gentle, "You're welcome, babygirl."

"What time is it?"

He looks at his watch, "Ten after eleven, still got some time to spare," he brushes his nose against yours, "You wanna keep practicin' or do you wanna relax?"

"Relax," you hum, "Definitely relax."

He chuckles, "I'll put this away then," he extricates himself from you and reaches for the guitar, turning around to lean it back against the wall. He picks up your hymn book and goes to slip it back inside your purse before you sit up, shaking your head.

"I told my mom I loaned that to you," you smile sheepishly, "You should probably, um, keep it for a little bit."

"Ah, so that's my reward," he says with a laugh, thumbing the pages gently, "I'll take good care of it, promise."

Your eyes go wide at his words, "Oh my god."

He raises an eyebrow, puzzled by your reaction, "What?"

"You never came," you sit up on the couch, shaking your head frantically, "I'm so sorry, oh my god, come here, let me help," you reach toward his belt and he just laughs again, taking a step back.

"You don't need to do that, sweetheart," he says softly, kindly, but you're not having it.

"No, I want to, please," you stand up from the couch and step toward him, gripping his belt buckle, "Please let me."

He shakes his head; suddenly he's the one looking sheepish. You halt your movements, staring at him in confusion.

"I came, darlin'," he says with a breathless sort of laugh, smiling at you, "I came in my pants like one of your college boys. Haven't done it in years, actually. I'm surprised I still could." He pulls your hand off his belt and brings it to his lips, presses a kiss to your knuckles, "You're not the only one who learned somethin' new today."

You feel a proud warmth flood your cheeks, smiling softly to yourself as you take his words in.

"That bein' said, I'm gonna need to change," he winces a bit as he adjusts his pants, "I'm a bit of a mess right now." His eyes suddenly light up with some kind of realization, and he quickly puts his finger up before walking over to one of his bookshelves and pulling a little gift bag off the bottom shelf, "Which reminds me," he says with a smile, heading back over to you, "This is for you."

You stare at the bag, confused, "For me?"

"For you."

You take it from him, feeling beyond touched despite not having any idea what's inside. Your heart is beating fast as you reach in the bag, push past the tissue paper and pull out something lightweight, soft under your touch. You stare at it for a few seconds, looking at the pastel pink material and thumbing it gently, brow slowly beginning to furrow.

"You said you needed a new swimsuit," he says softly, "You wanted a bikini, remember? I picked this up for you."

"Yeah, I... I remember," you're still staring at it; it's cute and ruffled, nothing too crazy like the things you'd worried he might get for you. However there's an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach as you look at it, dropping the bag at your feet and holding up the top half in front of your face, staring at it like it could attack you at any second.

It's quiet for a moment, then, "I can take it back if you don't like it, darlin'. No worries."

"No, no, I...I like it," you say quickly, "I just..." you can't really explain how you're feeling, unsure how exactly to word it, "If my parents ever saw me in this..." you suddenly feel like you're going to cry, shaking your head and dropping the top back into the bag, "I'm sorry, I know I told you to get it but... now that I'm actually looking at it... there's no way I can wear this in my pool. Not without my mother having a conniption. I don't know what I was thinking."

You feel his eyes on you as you reach down to pick the bag back up, pushing it back toward him, waiting for him to take it from you - he doesn't.

"It's yours, angel," he says softly, "You don't have to wear it but I want you to have it."

You shake your head, pushing it toward him again, "No, you don't need to waste your money on something I'll never wear."

"I don't care, I want you to have it," he repeats, voice kind yet firm, "I bought it for you, it's a present, and I think you deserve to have somethin' nice for yourself."

"I have plenty of nice things," you snap, letting go of the bag and watching as it cascades to the floor, "I don't need it."

You can't bring yourself to look at him, crossing your arms against your chest and biting down on your lip to keep the tears at bay. He stands there for a few seconds silently, probably waiting for you to say something else, but you don't.

"Well, I'm gonna go change outta these clothes," he says quietly, "I'll meet you out on the back deck, alright? It's real private out there, don't gotta worry about anyone seein' you."

You nod slowly, staring at a spot on the floor. He turns away from you and heads upstairs, leaving you standing there feeling like a complete asshole. What is wrong with you? He just gave you a fucking present, not to mention the best orgasm of your life, and this is how you treat him? You take a deep breath and force the tears away, sighing to yourself and bringing your gaze back to the little bag on the floor.

You hate this. Why does every single thought you have need to be somehow policed by your parents despite them not even being in the room? Why is every decision, every move you make, always influenced by that guilty part of you, the part of you that wants to be their perfect girl, their star student, their obedient God fearing daughter? How has it gotten this deep? Why are they so ingrained in you to the point where something you literally asked for is tainted by thoughts of their disapproval?

You stand there staring at the bag, arms still crossed, thoughts going a mile a minute. Get over yourself. You just had a man's mouth on your pussy and you're suddenly worried about wearing a bikini? You make a grumbling sound in your throat, exhaling and shaking your head. Stop letting them control you. Stop giving them power.

You slip inside the downstairs bathroom, little bag in tow.

--

The sun is hot against your skin as you step out onto Joel's back patio, clad in your brand new bikini and surprisingly less self conscious than you thought you'd be. He was right; the backyard is very private, shielded by trees and a tall white fence similar to your own. You briefly wonder why he'd choose to play guitar on his front step when he has such a nice atmosphere back here, but the thought fades quickly when you see him sitting there in front of you in a lounge chair, wearing a pair of shorts and nothing else.

You feel your heart pound as you walk forward, shutting the door behind you with eyes glued to the hair on his chest, the sweat clinging to his skin, dipping into his tummy. You're still a bit embarrassed by your initial reaction to your gift but it's seemingly water under Joel's bridge when he turns around at the sound of the door to see you standing there.

He whistles when he sees you, low and cartoonish, "Phew. I think I made a good choice," he looks you up and down as you smile shyly, "Gimme a twirl."

You do as you're told, the thin ruffles tickling the tops of your thighs as you spin on the spot. You giggle when he whistles again.

"I really do like it," you say softly, walking over to him and settling into the other lounge chair, "It suits me. I'm sorry I got all weird."

He smiles at you tenderly, "That's alright, babygirl. I understand," he pauses then, looks thoughtful for a moment before saying, "You know... I know what it feels like to be worried about disappointin' your parents. To always be seekin' approval."

Your brow furrows at his words, "You do?"

He nods, leaning back a bit in the chair and sighing a bit, "I may be new to this neighborhood but I ain't new to Texas, darlin'. Born and raised here, went to church every Sunday just like you, had a curfew and rules and expectations and all those things you have." He closes his eyes against the rays of sun, "Difference is, I'm not an only child. I wasn't dealin' with it alone, thank God. Had my little brother Tommy with me every step of the way."

You smile at that, trying to picture a much younger version of Joel in his childhood, horsing around with another little boy. You'd always thought about what it would have been like to have a sibling, to not be the only one with all the pressure on your shoulders, but your parents had never given you any. Your mom had wanted to have more kids and simply couldn't, another layer of guilt added to your ever increasing pile. Her only daughter - a sinner. You shake the thought away and continue to listen to Joel.

"The thing about havin' a brother, in my experience anyway, is that people will always find ways to compare you. Tommy was always the smart one, the moral one, good head on his shoulders, always did well in school and knew his scripture back to front," he chuckles to himself, "I tried so hard to be like him but I just couldn't do it, wasn't built that way, never have been. I was the angry one, the problem child. Was always good with my hands but my parents never saw much value in that, always ended up askin' me the same shit: Why can't you be more like Tommy? Tommy's got straight A's, why don't you? When are you gonna start actin' more like Tommy?"

You frown, feeling a pang in your heart at the words.

"Was too much pressure to be like Tommy. He was their golden boy, you know? And I just couldn't compare. God knows I tried but..." he reaches over the side of his chair and picks up a bottle of beer you hadn't noticed before, bringing it to his lips and taking a sip, "I started messin' up a lot when I hit my teenage years," he continues, "Drinkin', breakin' curfew, sneakin' out to see girls. I had fun but my parents...phew, my father in particular, he was not happy, let me tell you. And then -" he cuts himself off suddenly, frozen for a moment before taking one last sip of beer and putting it down again.

"Then...?" you ask softly.

He shrugs to himself, hesitating a bit before answering, "Then... I got myself into some trouble. Won't go into it, not right now, but they kicked me out. That was that, didn't wanna have nothin' to do with me after that."

Your stomach twists at his words, "That's horrible."

He shrugs again, finally turning to look at you, "It ain't as bad as it sounds, trust me. I was better off, I didn't need any of their judgement in my life, any of that Catholic guilt. It was like a weight came off my shoulders. Sure, I had some bigger fish to fry after that, had to do a lot of things on my own, but I wouldn't change a thing."

"So, do you still talk?" you can't help but ask, feeling slightly selfish; it's for you, for your own conscious.

"Who, me and my parents?" he laughs lightly, "They're long gone now, sweetheart. But yeah, after my Dad died I spent some more time with my Momma, got to have her in my life again for a bit. That was nice." He ponders to himself for a moment, "I think, as cliché as it sounds, time really does heal most wounds. Nothin's ever perfect, nothin' can ever go back to the way it was, but people change. And while they're changin', you gotta focus on what's right for you, on livin' the life you want, not worryin' about what they'll think."

You nod thoughtfully, taking in his words. "So... this life, the one you're living right now... is it what you want?" you ask softly, brow furrowed, "Are you happy?"

He sighs then, leans further back into the chair and closes his eyes once more, "Now that's a complicated question."

You both lay there in silence for a little while, though it's neither awkward nor uncomfortable. It feels nice, to just sit with somebody with no pressure of making conversation or answering things about yourself. Every time you've interacted with anyone this summer, whether it be your parents or your mom's friends or people you used to know, there's always been an expectation to inform. To prove yourself, to show how good of a person you are, how much you've achieved. With Joel none of that pressure exists; it's so easy to just be with him and not have to be anyone but yourself.

Though he hadn't really answered your question, you have an answer of your own. Before you met Joel, almost two weeks ago now, you hadn't known where you stood in life, what you wanted, who you were. And now you're slowly beginning to realize that there's this whole other person inside of you, dying to get out, to be free. And you like that person, want to be her more than anything, want to live that life.

But just like Joel said - it's complicated.

"Do you ever..." you break the silence, trailing off slightly before continuing, "Do you ever feel like you're just kind of going through the motions? Like... wasting all your time doing things for other people instead of yourself?"

"Honey, you just summed up my whole life," he says with a laugh, deep and smooth, "You think I wanna be out workin' til ten every night, doin' construction and barkin' orders and layin' plans for shit I got no interest in? I'm fifty six, I should be thinkin' about retirin' by now." He winces at his own words and then sits up a bit, giving you an odd look, "Forget I said that."

You raise an eyebrow, confused, "Why?"

He grimaces, "I don't need to be remindin' you how old I am."

You can't help but laugh, smiling to yourself and shaking your head quickly, "I don't mind, Mr. Miller, really."

His expression softens at your words, but then his brow furrows. He's quiet for a moment, the cogs in his head seemingly turning until he finally says softly, "Call me Joel, darlin'."

You're a bit surprised by his words, eyes widening, "Oh, I'm sorry."

He smiles, "Don't be sorry, sweetheart. I... I do like you callin' me Mr. Miller, but you can call me by my name too, if you want. If it feels natural for you."

You nod slowly, "Joel," you say quietly and he chuckles, "Joel," you repeat, smiling to yourself, "Joel."

"Don't wear it out," he admonishes with a grin, reaching down to pick up his bottle of beer again, "Though I do like how you say it."

Your cheeks warm at his words and you settle back into the chair, closing your eyes and inhaling the fresh air. Your time is winding down now - you'd told your mom you'd be home around noon; the sun is almost at the highest point in the sky.

"So what would you be doing?" you ask suddenly, "If you had more freedom for yourself, if you weren't doing the whole contracting thing?"

He thinks to himself for a moment, then shrugs, "Playin' music, I guess. Always wanted to when I was young but my parents didn't like the idea, I'm sure you can imagine." You grimace at his words, understanding completely. "But yeah... doin' some gigs, playin' guitar, singin' a bit here and there... that'd be the dream." He smiles at you then, crinkly eyed and gorgeous, "What about you, darlin'? If you didn't have all these things with your parents to worry about, what would you do?"

You bite your lip, averting your eyes from his as you softly murmur, "I think I'd still be sitting right here with you."

He looks at you for a long time, thoughtful and soft. You can't help but feel shy under his gaze, toying with a ruffle on your bikini and wondering if maybe you've said too much. You've barely known him two weeks, you doubt he's feeling any ounce of the butterflies that have been fluttering in your belly since the day you met him, and yet you can't help but hope that maybe...just maybe... he's starting to.

"You want a beer or anything, sweetheart?" he interrupts your thoughts, standing up from his chair and gesturing toward the house, "I'm goin' in to get another one. I have some lemonade too."

"Lemonade sounds nice," you say with a smile, and he mirrors it, reaching down to push a strand of hair behind your ear.

"One lemonade comin' right up," he murmurs, then leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips, sweet and quick. You melt under his touch, eyes closing as he strokes your cheek, realizing you could sit here forever just existing with him, being touched by him, being kissed by him.

Yup. Very complicated.

--

You arrive home to find your mother sitting at the kitchen table eating lunch; she looks up as soon as she sees you, eyes lighting up, "So? How'd it go?"

You're wearing the dress again, the stockings, the crucifix. The only difference is that the hymn book in your purse has been replaced with the pink bikini, wrapped in tissue paper. You sit down across the table from your mother, feeling a little lighter, like there's a little less weight on your shoulders.

"It was amazing," you tell her, unable to stop the genuine smile that spreads across your face, "I learned so much."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #fic: feelings on fire #*

[naturesapphic]

Hey…can I please request something with Mama Nat waking up to little R screaming/crying in the middle of the night from a really bad fever. Natasha is panicked, takes them to bed to soothe them back to sleep, tries to give them some water but they just want Natasha milk?

maybe little R is autistic and the fever sensation leaves him in sensory and sensitive crisis with noises so while mommy natasha comforts him, she also makes small noises to calm R

Fever

Mommy!natasha romanoff x autistic!fem!little!reader

Warnings: age regression

Natasha was in the kitchen washing dishes when all of a sudden she heard her baby scream. She immediately went into assassin mode and got a gun underneath the sink cabinet and slowly walk into the bedroom where you were and found you awake crying. She let out a breath and put her gun on the table before rushing over to you and scooping you into her arms.

“Shhh shhh mama is here babygirl…what’s got you so upset honey?” She says quietly as she rocks you gently in her arms. “H-hwurts…” you whimpered out as you raised your hand to your forehead. Natasha understood and replaced your hand with hers on your head as she frowned. “You have a fever doll. Let’s go to the kitchen and get you some medicine.” Natasha said as she carried you to the kitchen and sat you down on the counter.

She went over to a basket full of different medicines and found some liquid nighttime cough syrup that helps with just about everything, including fever. She poured some in a cup and walked back over to you. “Here babygirl. Can you be a good girl for mommy and take this right quick?” Natasha said as she gave you the cup which you reluctantly grabbed. “It’s yuckys mama…” you pouted and sniffled at her and she cooed at you.

“Oh I know doll, but mama promises you that it will be you feel so much better. Mommy never lies does she?” She asked at the end and you shook your head no and quickly took your medicine. You made a horrendous face and gagged slightly at the awful taste. You quickly swallowed it and pouted. “Yuckys!” You whimpered and rubbed your eyes furiously. Natasha could tell you were getting overstimulated because of how sick and tired you were, plus the bright kitchen lights weren’t helping either.

“You did such a good job doll! Mommy is so proud of you. Here, you can have your favorite snack and some water how about that?” Natasha said softly as she rubs your back gently. You shook your head and whined as you grew frustrate. “Nuuu! Wan milk! Wan mamas milk!” You whined out and she shushed you gently as she picked you back up into her arms. “Okay babygirl….you can have some milk. Alright let’s go back to bed.” Natasha reassured you as she walked back into the bedroom and lays you back into the bed.

She takes off her shirt and bra and gets beside you in the bed. She holds you close enough to where your mouth is near her breasts and you immediately latch onto her nipple, suckling from it softly. She knew how you didn’t feel good and you love when your mommy sings/hums so that’s what she starts to do. She starts humming your favorite song and soon enough, you fall into a deep sleep, in your mommy’s arms.

A/n: I hope you liked this anon and I hope I did the request how you wanted it :) I hope the rest of y’all enjoyed and remember to stay hydrated and to rest. I love y’all!

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow #mommy natasha #natasha romanoff x little!reader #natasha romanoff x you #mommy!natasha x little!reader #mommy!nat x little!reader #mommy!natasha #black widow x fem reader #black widow x female reader #black widow fluff #black widow x you #black widow imagine #black widow mcu #black widow movie #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romonova

[karinasbaby]

✩⋆꙳ — RANDOM TEXTS WITH BF JAKE ! PT.2

pairing: bf!jake x fem!reader (ft. dracula & beyoncè)

warnings: swearing, riki, sunghoon & sunoo, alpha reader and omega jake 🙏🏼(im playing), riki, jake is ridiculously down bad. like horrendously, barking, frogs & riki. (1 and*** ta** joke but i promise i hate that bald man with my entire heart), mentions of kidnapping ?? the bermuda triangle and riki.

a,note. this one’s for my babygirl @auraxyzz 🫵 ilysm, i’m not sure if i’ll be making a maknae line version of these texts yet but we’ll see 🧐 (i’m actually not that happy w how this one came out i promise the next one will be funnier 💔🙏🏼)

and fun fact ! the number from houston is actually a random one that called me like idk two weeks ago or smth at 4 am (beyoncé pls call me back☹️)

#enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen texts #enhypen ff #enha texts #enha x reader #enha scenarios #enha imagines #jake sim smau #jake sim fanfic #jake sim x reader #jake texts #jake x reader #jake sim #sim jaeyun fluff #sim jaeyun fic #sim jaeyun x reader #jake social media au #enhypen smau #enha smau

[pettyprocrastination]

Abby x reader head canons?

I will say may not be the best representation for her character because I've only watched (many) play troughs and not played the game yet cause I no longer have my play station :( but I am absolutely horrendously down bad for her ngl so here we go (also abby is closeted wlw in this sorry guys)

warnings: repressed sapphic feelings, gets a little sexual at the ending but nothing major, jealousy, mostly just fluff here cause im easing myself into her character

I feel like she's not particularly into pda? not anything egregious but she'll have an arm around you is enough, maybe a hand in the back pocket to give you a lil bum squeeze but even that's pushing it. She doesn't want to be obnoxious like *those* couples (she does actually) but she wants people to know your hers.

connecting to this I feel like she gets jealous pretty easily. Not from a place of seeing you as property but from her own insecurities and worrying that you'll find somebody "better" which means sometimes she'll give a snide little comment when you've been hanging out with somebody else that makes you pull back and go "excuse me?" often leading to her either talking herself into a corner or going silent and passive aggressive until your able to pull the truth out of her, often times after the anger has fizzled out hours later and she slips into your room with a soft mumbled apology when you tell you that you love her and only her but that doesn't mean she gets to be an asshole to you for it. (she makes it up to you though. all night long in fact)

braid her hair. please braid her hair. It's a small sign of love that makes her go absolutely crazy. The feeling of your nails gently scritching her scalp has her stretching out like a cat in a sunbeam on a lazy sunday afternoon. She'll set her head in your lap while you undo the braid and run your fingers through her soft locks until she slowly drifts off to sleep because she just feels so at peace with you that she's comfortable letting her guard down and falling asleep

even if you have very short hair, you probably end up wearing one of her hair ties on your wrists because she tends to lose them + its a little part of her to keep by your side :') (i will say its interesting that in the show, it seems like ellie keeps her hair tied back with a hairtie that seems to have been cut, so she has to wrap it around and then tie a knot which makes sense because i'd gather that elastic isn't that easy to come across post apocalypse yknow. I think it'd be cute if you like. found a scrunchie or smthn for her that even though its not her style she's still wear it cause its a gift from you :'))

that being said? i imagine after everything she's been through she's a pretty light/paranoid sleeper so if you slip from the bed for any reason be ready to see her padding after you, squinted eyes and grumbling with sleep still in her voice as she mumbles 'where you goin'?' because babygirl woke up without you by her side and it caused her to panic :(

confident in her body. She's worked hard on her physique and she knows you enjoy it, so don't be surprised to see her not-so-subtlety flex if she catches you eyeing her up. You'll roll your eyes at her peacocking but it doesn't stop that lovesick smile from growing on your face that makes her feel all giddy. Bunch of goofballs in love right here <3

idk why but she gives me a bit closeted energy growing up. I feel like she probably got plenty of shit for being a tomboy and she gives me the energy of those girls who are like "women can be masculine and straight you know >:(" but so incredibly gay lmao (knew countless gals like this god bless them all) but yeah she'll huff and puff because just because she's not girly doesn't mean she's gay but also likes it when you sleep in her bed and you guys tell stories and fall asleep in eachothers arms, sometimes she'll stay awake so she can watch how peaceful you are and maybe maybe think about kissing you and how soft your body would feel in her hands and the little noises you'd make and that makes her feel something owen never did. but yknow. she's still super straight

#abby anderson x reader #my apologies if this isn't in character! i havent really ever..done anything for her before! #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #but yes lets talk about this beauty <3

[theoryofarson]

10 BL Characters I Want Carnally

I don't even need to be tagged to be horny. Let's go!

In no particular order:

Third (Theory of Love)

He's so pathetic! He cries so much! He's so rude and mean and bitchy! His shirts are so big and his shorts are so small!

In conclusion, I would treat him right - the way Khai does NOT.

Nick (Only Friends)

Speaking of PATHETIC!!!! THAT'S MY TOXIC BABYGIRL! MY CANCELLED BOYGIRLWIFESBAND! Sand really wasted an opportunity in that van. It should have been me...

Pa (Bad Buddy)

You know who's taller than you, Pa?? Me!!! The thought of being the one to make her flustered...pick her up and brush her hair back...dear lord.

Ok this list is really starting to look like I want to be the one doing all the manhandling. I promise you I am also down to be handled. Let's switch it up a bit.

Porsche (KinnPorsche)

Listen. You know I LOVE VegasPete as a ship.

But if we're talking about who *I* desire - first of all, your bitch is NOT prepared for the kinkery VegasPete get up to. Second of all, I genuinely think Apo Nattawin is one of the most objectively attractive men on this planet. Add to that Porsche's layered dip of a personality (fidgety jokester, devoted big brother, practiced fighter, willing killer, dutiful guard dog...), and I am quite sold. Give me the problematic mafia sex.

Hyeong Da Un (Blueming)

Dude. I barely even remember this show. I had to look up the character's name. But he's BAD. And he always had like...this teasing superiority toward the main character? Like he knew they would end up together and was just waiting for MC to catch up to that realization? Yeah. That...that's hot.

Ueda Minoru (Our Dining Table)

I believe this man was crafted in a lab to be as attractive to me, specifically, as possible. He looks like a bit of a delinquent, but he's a sweet and dedicated family man. He is troubled by the notion that he'll never be good enough. He's in love and afraid to say it. He's a bleach blonde with earrings and a bump in his nose and an Adam's apple that makes me want to follow the footsteps of Eve in the garden.

Mhok (Last Twilight)

Lord, there is not enough time in the world for me to say all I want to say about this man.

I just want it to be stated, on the record, that I have been well aware of Jimmy's attractiveness since Bad Buddy days. Unlike others, I never let Wai's horrendous personality distract me from his absurdly hot face, which, at the end of the day, is the important thing.

And now that we have Mhok? Literally the perfect character - rugged yet tender, clueless yet hypercompetent, jealous yet selfless - full of desire and restraint and humour and sadness in equal measure - I genuinely cannot think of what else I would ask for.

And did I mention his hot face?

Finally, to round out the list, a special triple whammy:

Neo, Miw, and Shin (3 Will Be Free)

Yes, all three. At once? Separately? I don't give a shit. For all I care, it could be me in this trunk and them looking down at me in disdain. That'd keep me going for like, a year. Just let me be in the orbit of these three ridiculously hot people and their ridiculously hot dynamic. Joss, Mild, Tay: if any subset of you is ever free, at any time at all, I am also free. At that time. Forever.

Whew!

That was really fun. Tagging: Whoever wants to do it!!!! Go. Be horny. Be free.

#tag games #10 bl boys i want carnally #theoryofarson.mine

[amorettopedri]

https://www.tumblr.com/amorettopedri/726817781967929344/httpswwwtumblrcomamorettopedri72681547486062?source=share

love this for u, i also see the appeal with lestappen but personally i am a maxiel girlie cuz max is so gay for that hunky australian man with the big nose 🙄 babygirl needs to stand up fr

babes I like maxiel too!!! Max is horrendously down bad for Daniel, as you said babygirl need to stand tf up!!! especially in these recent rb videos. also Max is so happy Daniel is back to rb family "I never wanted him to leave" had me on the floor.

#anon #ask #max totally had a crush on him when he was a teenager snd they were teammates #he's so fruity with daniel #maxiel

[archonsabyss]

no but sunghoon though 😏 first of all, beautiful beauty marks on him~ second of all, style and grace from his ice skater days def carried over. third of all!!! he's constantly buffering like iconic king behavior! but also he's so funny and kind. i too am a victim of homie hopping and i don't mind; sunghoon is def the prince we need in these trying times 🥰

like i had to think about why haven't i noticed heeseung before it's because he looked too baby for me. which is rich considering sunoo has ALWAYS looked baby, but a different kind of baby? like babygirl baby is not the same as baby baby. babes what am i even saying D: but yes, i am looking at heeseung reels and photos, consuming so much heeseung headcanons like HORRENDOUSLY down bad c: i love it tehehe~

it's so funny how you said to wash my hair bc that day you replied i was in desperate need of a wash day ಥ_ಥ but yes pls take care of yourself~ a little goes a long way

babes blade's banner came and went! tbh i thought about pulling for him, as i use him as support for calyxes and echo of war. but... i have too many destruction characters, and what i really need is a better lightening character. i swear whether is genshin or hsr i always need a better lightening!! 〴⋋_⋌〵i'm skipping the current banner to save for acheron. also penacony has been so much fun to play!

awww babes (✿ ♥‿♥) i'm just giving you the bare minimum~ your works are divine, illustrious, engaging, and so so sooooo beautiful. i've been around fanfics for awhile now but none has captured my heart the way yours have. you truly deserve the world babe <3

okay and!!! your recent l&ds work!!!!! why am i barking!! i don't even know these men!!!!! how did you do it!!!! what did you say, "The whimpers that escape your lips are like the melodic notes produced by strumming a guitar and the hands that orchestrate you are as adept and efficient as the music they craft." like POETRY BABES I WILL NEVER LIE the words you use! the story they create!!!! i squeal!!!!!!! downloading the game right MEOW!

₊⊹ Sunghoon is literally perfect. He embodies the feeling of a kdrama moment. What I mean is when time stands still, hair tousled by the breeze, the gleaming sun's warmth radiating perfectly, and your heart fluttering with that giddy feeling. But also his personality, he's probably the only (bias) I bias that is alot like me. Loud introverts! He's just so fun and chill and comforting I really can't express it. Tho, him and San both make me want to run into their arms, hug them and never let go. They look like the give amazing hugs.

I totally understand, Hee stood out the second he entered frame for me but I think it was also heavily because of his singing. Sometimes a member only really capture ur attention later on, like at the right moment. What ur experiencing rn is exactly what I'm going through with sunghoon. Ive always noticed him or knew him by name and face, but only after blessed cursed era did I start having complications with biasing. Since then, it's been a constant back and forth. I start watching every sunghoon clip I could get my hands on! Edits, fics.. Devoured. ENJOY it hehe❤️

I LOVE DESTRUCTION characters🤭 I love things that go boom and bang!! (like Caleb) I need to play hsr! Ur hyping me up towards it

If I deserve the world, just know you're right there within it! Only reason I'd ever accept my own world is to create a safe haven and comforting home for people like you! Us together.

I feel ur a destructive character of ur own because my heart... All ur compliments are going straight to my head and heart, an arrow hitting its mark and a wound open and oozing. I'VE always thought poetry was absolutely beautiful and magnificent so I love trying to incorporate pieces! And getting a response like this makes it all the more worth it. I'M GLAD I GOT U HAHAHA. But I'm struggling sm with addiction I need to go on a serious break 🙌

#₊⊹ ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖⭒✮ abyss inbox 📩 #₊⊹ @princ3ss-world⊹₊ #love and deepspace #enhypen #hsr

[theoriginaldickmaster]

Damn dude

How much more babygirl can you get? You're like peak skrunkly material and I'm horrendously down bad for that chubby bod you got, save some attractiveness for the rest of us fr fr.

-🐐

I don’t know if I should be pissed off or say I already fucking know

So I’m just gonna fucking say thanks or whatever

(Guys he’s so old, just cause he acts like a 2010 douchebag doesn’t mean he’s got that modern mindset all these slang terms are giving him a complex atp 😭😭)

#hazbin adam #hazbin angel dust #hazbin art #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin lucifer #hazbin spoilers

[rivertigo]

This hair was so dumb and stupid and it sucked and looked bad but I do not care I’m down horrendous like hi babygirl it’s giving absolute freshly hatched chick realness does that pussy need eating by any chance? 😍

#m

[unhinged404]

anyways hi again rant blog today’s topic: the cruelty to dream after his face reveal because my babygirl is supposedly getting slaughtered on the internet though idgaf and he doesn’t either because he’s currently having the best week of his life 🫶🫶🌟🌟🌟

anyways. I’ve managed to curate a great social media experience bc the only hate I’ve seen at all was when I actively went out searching for it—aka browsing dwt2 and seeing what their thoughts on threads and shit were—or seeing people discourse post about what was happening.

What I HAVE seen is a lot of shit going around about how people's bodyshaming and bullying is rooted in the fact that he’s a bad person but it’s really telling that most of what they’ve heard is from a game of horrendously broken telephone: he’s racist, ableist, homophobic, a master manipulator, etcetera, and their proof is either an outdated and addressed google doc callout or a twitter thread that is half made up.

I'll be the first to admit Dream's past and his first year and a half or so of content creation weren't handled the best—I joined up probably halfway through that time period, I was here for the war cry situation, I was here for the speedrunning, I was here for the ableist stuff that he did, and for the supposed d0xxing of the black lesbian during june 2021. So with such a long (and by no means exhaustive) laundry list of supposed bad things he's done, how could anyone continue to support him???

Well, the answer is simple—I watched him change. He WAS someone who grew up in a toxic gaming environment that I also grew up tangential to. I knew how bad it got because I had friends in the exact same circles. Same paths of right-leaning home values bleeding into right-leaning online gaming circles causing kids that I knew were good people when I met them falling down deeper and deeper into that same pipeline. I don't keep in contact with most of them anymore, but I more than anything hope that they gained the same wisdom Dream did and changed for the better. Because they are intrinsically good people.

Over the past 2 years, I've watched Dream unlearn a lot of the shit that he thought he knew, seen him take the time to talk with people who want to see him change for the better. He's a smart cookie and someone fundamentally good, and he's really learned a lot since I started watching him. If you read his most recent pastebin, it's plain as day that he understands the weight of his past actions and that he regrets it. I've read a lot of his apologies, and that one took the cake for sincerity and regard for the impacts of his history. The temperamental, stubborn asshole that I first followed on Twitter doesn't exist anymore. He's mellowed out a lot, he's learned a lot from his mistakes, and the biggest thing is that there's nowhere in his content where the supposed homophobia or racism or whatnot even have a CHANCE to bleed into his content.

That leads me into what I think is one of my biggest gripes with Dream controversies: they're based off of things that came from borderline, if not fully, illegal sources or just generally stalker-ish behavior. Like the Reddit account that supposedly was shared with a co-worker? People had to find deleted accounts, use waves and waves of the wayback machine and when that failed, used other methods to try and dig up something that was obviously never meant to be found and had no parallels in the present. Don't even fucking get me started on the fact that his personal information became a trend to post on social media?? Like how fucking horrible does the internet have to be to understand that there is no reason why a Minecraft YouTuber deserves to see information that could endanger him and his family on the trending page of multiple social media sites. Even shit that didn't really escape the fandom but turned a lot of people away came straight from KF and the worst depths of the internet. If that doesn't tell you that stuff like that shouldn't be touted regardless of the target, idk what will.

He's a 23 year old guy. He's made many many bad decisions and done a lot of stupid shit as a kid and as a growing creator. But the level of cruelty that has come from people about his face because they think he's a bad person is complete bullshit. Regardless of the person, if they're truly horrible, there are a billion ways to criticize them without bringing looks into it. Yet Dream isn't that horrible person. Nearly every controversy he's been in has been addressed and he's certainly the punching bag for a larger trend in the gaming community because the things that I've seen from him are the exact same things I've seen a million times from others at the same time. He provides love and support to people regardless of their background, seems to regularly give back to people, and strives to be a source of comfort to the massively diverse audience that I've met in my time as a Dream stan.

But yeah, there really isn't any reason to complain, I haven't actually seen much hate despite there supposedly being an ample amount, and I'm going to keep it that way! We finally are getting tons of content from the guys and they're happier than ever meeting each other, fans, and friends. :]

p.s. he's definitely not an ugly guy! genuinely I think he's on the attractive side of 'normal guy' and he's cute and pretty. he also acts so babygirl I love him even though he's truthfully not my type. he's perfect anyways bc my 'type' and measure of attractiveness is subjective and he has a golden personality

[sohin-ace]

Hermes - Switching Cells

*looks at watch* Would you look at that? It's gay time!

Fem reader

"Why did they make us switch cells again?" You glanced up at the tall dark-skinned girl next to you as she scoffed, rolling her eyes to the back of her head.

"Pfff... Some bullshit." She huffed exasperatedly, "They caught two girls being all nasty and frisky and they got mad."

Hermes and you were currently both walking along the hallways, all your belongings in your arms as two assigned guards escorted you, holding onto the chains tied to your handcuffs like a lifeline as they kept careful watch over you.

You could see other inmates doing the same from the corner of your eyes, moving from corridor to corridor and getting ushered to pack their stuff faster.

Everyone in the prison were to move from their cells and switch cellmates. It was the new rule that had just been established after some people decided to act a tad more intimate than they should appropriately have within a strict prison and disturbed other inmates as well as some night duty guards.

When the announcement was made in the court yard, the entire staff present to break the very important news down to the people, all the inmates started laughing their asses off between annoyed grunts and 'booh's.

Anyone would. How stupid was that rule? What kind of prison even forbade physical relationships between inmates? How was intercourse ever harmful to jail discipline? Weren't prisons in Florida famous for rape culture and letting inmates basically abuse each other? What about 'prison sexuality'?

All these questions you and your fellow comrades couldn't answer.

Your assigned guards set you up in your new cell after you finally reached it and locked the door behind you two, leaving you to settle down before phone calls time.

You stared around the small windowless room, cemented walls and armored door. Well that sure changed from the huge bars from before. To be fair this cell seemed even better than the old one.

"So... What are these things for?" You pointed at the bars on the small frame cut on the metallic door.

"To prevent girls from snatching each other I guess? Not like that would stop anyone but ya know... No one else but the guards on duty can see the inmates now so I suppose that's what they wanted." Hermes cleared, still salty from the ordeal and unnecessary bother.

She threw her belongings somewhere and you turned your gaze away from the door, you could only agree with her scepticism. "Hmmm... Yeah that's bullshit."

Hermes plopped herself onto one of the beds with a breathy groan, supporting the back of her head with her arms, certainly claiming that bed as hers.

Your eyes widened a bit in surprise and slight confusion when you realized that the two beds were in the complete opposite sides of the room.

"They... They even removed the bunk beds?"

"Yeah," She scoffed with a smile. "To be honest that just makes what they want to prevent easier. Like, you could easily just- Tch, I'll never understand the warden."

You looked around a bit before putting away your stuff neatly, unaware of your cellmate's sneaky and insistant eyes on you.

"Are you gonna be okay? Without F.F., I mean." You asked without taking your eyes off of your current task.

"Hah, you should worry more about her than me. She's the one that's stuck with Jojo."

"Hey, Jolyne's not that bad..." You chuckled in your ex-cellmate's defense, "...When she puts her panties away, at least."

The room became awfully silent until you suddenly heard Hermes chuckle lowly, almost evilly, even. You turned your head around to look over your shoulder and saw the latina give you a mischievous sideway glance.

You blinked and furrowed your brows at her in confusion but she only smirked back, swallowing another chuckle.

"Girl, do you want to have a good laugh?"

Her sudden deep voice made you gulp and you swore you felt a wave of heat wash over you and a pearl of sweat glide down your forehead.

Oh no, first of all, she didn't have any business being this hot, sprawled on her bed like that, her strong arms flexing effortlessly and her enticing smirk reaching her golden-green eyes.

Secondly, you knew that when Hermes had ideas, they were almost just as bad as Jolyne's. And God knows that Jolyne could scream dumbass energy like no one else sometimes. Especially when she was bored or horny. Or both.

You bit your lower lip and nodded at her. Hopefully you wouldn't be in trouble because of her genius plans, but again, it just made it all the more exciting.

Hermes jumped off the bed and struggled to keep the grin off her face as she glanced at the barred door. God she was so gorgeous and she didn't even brag about it.

She approached you and landed one strong hand on your shoulder, bringing her index towards her green painted lips in a shushing gesture.

"Here's what we're gonna do..."

She leaned in and explained the plan in a sweet hushed tone and you could barely concentrate on her words when she was this close to you, whispering with her overly endearing mexican accent. God, how could one be so cute and so sexy at the same time?

You tried your best to keep a straight face as she laid her evil plan out to you, but you could feel her breath hitting your lips and you had to clear your throat many times to cover the small squeals you unwillingly let out.

The more she explained, the more you could feel your face warm up. Not only because you were trying hard to not stare at her very inviting lips but also, and mostly, because of what her plan actually implied.

Hermes sure was a bold woman, but this plan would piss off the guards so much and be so incredibly funny if nicely executed, but at the same time, it was a bit, if not very, inappropriate and risky, which you got to figure out, was something she very much enjoyed.

"You sure about that, Hermes...? It's a bit... It's embarassing." You hesitated, visibly flustered but she squeezed your arm in reassurance.

"Come on! Don't be like that, it's gonna be so much fun!" She grinned at you and she knew you could hardly resist or refuse her anything. "Y/N, please? It'll be so worth it babygirl, trust me."

You gulped and nodded. Oh well, what's the worst that could possibly happen?

"A-aah!! I-... I can't do this...!"

"Ughh... Come on, bebé, just like that, yes...Yes!"

Very suggestive noises of the two cellmates echoed in the room and throughout the prison corridors. A wanton mix of grunts and whimpers and moans. What could be going on in this prison?

"I-Ah!... Aaah, no~!" You whined breathlessly and Hermes groaned right after you, accompagnying you in your, quite strange, string of sounds.

"Yes! That's it, Y/N! Do that again!"

"Hermes, I-...nnghh!! Fuck!"

"You gotta move like this Y/N! Yeah, r-right there! Aah! Perfect!"

Some guards on walking duty were passing by and stopped, alerted by the horrendous noises, easily heard by anyone nearby, and that left very little, if not nothing to the imagination.

"A-aah please! Hermes! I can't-..." You gasped, your voice leaving you, "No more..."

Hermes, motivated, encouraged you further, purring, "No, no, you're doing great babe... Hmmm...That's what I like to see... Ah yes..!"

The guards hurried up to the cell you two were dwelling in and banged loudly on the metal door in hopes to shut you up.

"What the hell is going on here?!" One guard screamed and tried to check inside the room. But you girls were hidden right against the door, underneath the frame and perfectly in the guards' blind spot.

You two stiffled a laugh and continued on whatever you were doing. Yes. The plan was coming together amazingly.

Hermes was currently showing you some 'magic tricks' with playing cards. You were of course, completely failing and clumsily dropping the cards all over the place after trying your best to swipe and hold them in a way that would make any spectator blind to your misdirection and believe the cards were disappearing in your hands.

The Mexican was surprisingly good at these card tricks, things that she learned during her childhood, but she decided to add a little... spice to your teaching session. Something that would drive the prison staff nuts. Something that would make you pass time wonderfully in this boring prison.

"I can't do this, Hermes, we... We have to stop!" You cried with a hitched breath and the dark-skinned girl shushed you.

"Shhh. Relax, Y/N. You're too tense. Curl your fingers a bit. Oh-Yeah... Just like that... Aah~... See?"

"Yo-you're too good at this..."

"Let me teach you, guapa." She rasped and you let out an exaggerated ragged moan that she had to muster all her self-control to not burst into a laughing fit. What an actress you were.

"AAAHH~!"

The other guard came in to join his partner after leaving to call for help and you two could hear them bickering over what to do. The youngest, after getting insulted way too many names, eventually walked off again to call the supervisor.

"Come here supervisor! I heard them! Those two are at it as well!"

"Those damn lesbians, I'm so fucking tired!" The first guard commented as the supervisor stomped towards your cell and grumbled.

"I swear, these fucking girls are all so horny!" The man punched at the door, almost breaking it off its hinges and making you both flinch under the door. "HEY! MOVE AWAY FROM THE FUCKING DOOR YOU SLUTS!"

You put your hands over your mouths to silence your endless snickers and hurriedly got up, getting into the supervisor's view in front of the door's barred frame and forcing straight faces out of you.

"A problem, sir?" Hermes asked as calm as ever, her smirk effectively washed off her face.

"What the FUCK were you two doing in there?!" He growled, clearly not amused and way too busy to deal with that kind of joke.

"Nothing sir. We're playing with cards. Are we not allowed to?" She feigned as she tilted her head slightly, quirking an arrogant eyebrow. She too, was quite the actress.

"Tch, you freaks, I'm coming in." The supervisor fumbled messily with the keys and unlocked the door, missing the keyhole at least three times before succeeding, opening it wide and checked you two up and down scrutinizingly.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Neither of you looked disheveled in the slightest, and there were indeed cards sprawled onto the floor and in your hands.

He let out a suspicious drawn-out grunt and squinted his eyes at you, pointing an accusing finger at you two as he slowly backed out the door.

"I got my eyes on you, Costello, L/N. Don't you fucking mess with me." He hissed before slamming the door and locked it, walking away with the other guards close behind him.

When they were all out of earshot, you two finally burst into a laughter that you had been desperately containing as you slid back against the door, holding your stomach with pain from laughing so much.

"Man, we really got them!" Hermes obnoxiously sneered and you could only laugh back, contaminated by her laughter.

"Yeah! It was genius! And the overly lewd noises too! He was so red!" You added between laughs and slapped her arm playfully.

You both continued until your laughter died down a bit. You kept giggling softly and Hermes leaned over, smirking at you.

"Well," She purred and you looked back at her with wide eyes as she slid her hand up and down your thigh sensually. "Since they won't suspect a thing now, let's just get into the real deal, you're okay with that babe?"

And just like that, she grabbed your wrist and gently pinned you to the floor, connecting your lips with hers in a hungry and wet kiss.

And indeed, they did not suspect a thing after that.

Bonus:

"So Y/N is a bottom, huh?" Jolyne sneered as you all sat together at the cafeteria at lunchtime.

You gasped and blushed and Hermes wore her favourite expression. The smug one.

"I don't know what bottom is, but if Y/N is that I guess I approve." F.F said her straw between her lips before she slurped her drink again.

"Shut up. All of you!"

To be honest I didn't know what the Mexican accent sounded like until I started hanging out with @gio-is-writing and ??? Hello? Cute? Sexy? Be mine already.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #writing #jojo #x reader #reader insert #jjba #hermes costello #hermes costello x reader #hermes #hermes x reader #part 6 #jojo part 6 #stone ocean #jojo no kimyou na bouken

[gokailyger84]

Angsty Polybomb. Arin having a hard time. Missing Dan and Brian during tour. He thought that staying could help him with his stress and work done but his anxiety is even worse now that he miss them so much. Thx

I changed this a bit

Arin let out a frustrated groan, yanking his headphones off.  He pushedaway from his desk and leaned back in his chair, staring up at theceiling. 

He was currently in his private office at the grump space.  He was theonly one there, as it was late and everyone had packed up and headedhome. 

Except for him, he still had a mountain of emails to get through.  Whowould have thought, being the president of a company was so stressful andtime-consuming. 

CEOs made it look so easy and Arin was just in charge of a small gamingchannel.  He couldn’t imagine how he’d be if he actually had an officebuilding filled with hundreds of employees. 

Arin stood up, putting his monitor to sleep. 

He needed a break. 

Walking out of the office and into the kitchen area, he opened therefrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. 

Leaning against the counter, sipping from the bottle, he pulled out hisphone. 

He saw he had a few notifications on his phone.  Each one from the NSPtwitter, instagram, and Dan’s instagram. 

Arin hesitated. 

He had been purposely avoiding any thoughts of the Rock Hard tour.  Hestill felt guilty for having to drop out of it.  He hated letting peopledown, especially those he cared about. 

Dan and Brian insisted that they understood.  That he always had a loton his plate and couldn’t continue to justify being on the road for weeks, whenhe was only on stage a max of ten minutes. 

As much as Arin loved performing, it wasn’t enough, when the shows usuallyran three hours. 

Another reason he had been avoiding any news, was that he just missed Danand Brian.  Ever since the three of them started dating each other, hefelt their absence more significantly than before. 

While he still had, his loving and supportive wife, Arin still would findhimself longing to hear Dan’s laugh or Brian teasing someone. 

The two men had become a pretty significant part of his life without himeven realizing it.  Becoming more intimate with them had only increasedthat significance. 

Now he was missing being curled up in bed between them.  Quietlygiggling with Dan, as they thought of all the things Brian’s horrendous snoringreminded them of. 

He missed sitting on the couch with them in Brian’s living room, watchingdumb movies, while Brian loudly pointed out ever inaccuracy and Dan made cruderemarks. 

Arin opened the notification on the NSP instagram.  There was a pictureof Dan and Brian, still in costume holding a cake that had “Congrats on 1Meeellion Sucks” written in frosting. 

Arin looked up in thought.  He switched to the NSP youtube channel andlooked at their subscription count. 

That was right.  They had passed one million subs. 

Had he congratulated them?  Probably not.  He would need to. 

Arin then opened Dan’s instagram.  He watched the video of the New Yorkcrowd cheering for Granny Sexbang. 

It looked amazing. 

Arin felt another stab of guilt.  He had forgotten. 

NSP had started in New York.  Dan and Brian met each other there. 

He remembered getting a text from Dan, earlier in the day.  He was soexcited.  His and Brian’s family and friends were all there.  Thisshow was significant. 

Arin put his phone down. 

He should have been there. 

Maybe not for the whole tour but this show.  New York was a morespecial show than the one in Chicago.  New York was theirhomecoming. 

From performing for a handful of people to eight years later, performing asold out show to thousands. 

Dan and Brian had come a long way…and Arin wasn’t there to celebrate withthem. 

Arin sat down at the table, putting down the bottle of water and hisphone.  He lowered his head, resting it in his upturned hands. 

Some boyfriend he was.  He was such a selfish bastard. 

Arin just sat there, unmoving.  His mind filling with regrets.  With what he should have done. 

He barely heard the loud buzzing of his phone.  Lifting his head, hesaw he had an incoming facetime call. 

It was Dan. 

Arin just stared at the phone. 

He couldn’t talk to Dan. 

Not now. 

Not face to face. 

Not after what he had done. 

He continued to watch as the call went to voice mail. 

Almost immediately after he received two text messages.  One from Danand one from Brian. 

Arin ignored those too. 

He stared at his now quiet phone and jumped when it started buzzingagain. 

This time it was Suzy. 

Arin considered not answering but hecouldn’t do that to his wife. 

He sighed heavily and picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Arin?  Are you okay?  Why aren’t you answering your phone?  Danand Brian are trying to contact you.”

Arin ran a hand over his head, smoothing back the loose strands from hisponytail. 

“Sorry, Suzy.  I just…can’t talk to them right now.” 

“What?  Why not?”  Suzy asked.  Her tone full ofconfusion. 

It had taken a lot on her part to convince Arin it was okay for him to datethe two older men.  He had had a lot of worries and insecurities.  Particularly,centered on their relationship.  She thought she had squelched his fearsand he had moved past that. 

Afterall, it’d been months since the three men got together.

Arin let out a puff of air, feeling the irritation within himselfreturning. 

He vaguely heard a distant beeping.

“I should have been there, Suz.  With them.  Tonight wasimportant.  So fuckin’ important.” 

“Oh, Arin.”  Suzy began, now understanding what was going on. 

She had seen the posts.  Arin was feeling guilty. 

“They understand.  They know you would’ve been there if youcould.  You have a lot t-”

“That’s not it Suzy.”  Arin said interrupting. 

“This was the night.  Their homecoming.  All of theirfamily and friends were there, supporting them.” 

Arin rubbed angrily at his stinging eyes.  He refused to let himselfcry. 

“And me, their boyfriend wasn’t there.  I could’ve taken a flight andcome back.  What if they think my work is more important than them?”

The phone was silent for a few moments.  So long, that Arin wondered ifhe’d been disconnected.

“Suzy?”

“What the fuck, Arin.”  An all too familiar gruff voice said. 

“You know we don’t believe that, babygirl.” 

Arin took in a slow breath.  Understanding dawning on him.  That beeping he had heard.  

Suzy had merged calls with Dan and Brian. 

He swallowed thickly.

“Uh, how much did you hear?”  Arin cautiously asked.

“Enough to know you’re being a fucking idiot.”  Brian said dryly. 

Arin winced at that.  There was some rustling. 

“Brian, chill.  Arin, what he meant to say was that you shouldn’t feelbad for not being here.  It’s okay.  I mean, if it wasn’t for you,NSP wouldn’t have come this far.” 

“But, I’m your boyfriend.  I should have been there.”  Arinreplied.  His voice coming out in a whisper.

“Arin, look.”  Brian started, sounding slight miffed.  “Yes,you’re our boyfriend.  Yes, it would have been great if you werehere.  But it’s okay.  Like Dan said, you’re the reason we made ithere in the first place.  None of this would have been possible withoutyou.” 

“You’ve done more than enough for us, Arin.”  Dan said, cuttingin.  “You helped our dreams come true.  Giving me a chance on grumps,bringing Brian and I back together.  There is no possible way we couldthink you don’t care about us.  We’re not going to be upset at you becauseyou have other responsibilities.  We’re not going to love you less.”

Arin bit his lip, thinking over what he was just told. 

Was it really okay? 

Dan and Brian and Suzy seemed to think so. 

Had he overreacted?  Let his fears consume him? 

He was so lucky.  He had a wonderful wife and two boyfriends who lovedhim unconditionally.  What had he done to deserve this? 

Dan and Brian and even Suzy always said that he made a difference in theirlives and well, Arin could say the same thing. 

They all made him a better person.  Made him want to try harder. 

Made him want to succeed. See them succeed. 

All of them succeeding, together.

“Arin?”  He heard Suzy ask. 

Her voice was hesitant, as if she was worried he’d be mad at her.

As if he could ever be mad at her.

“I’m okay, Suzy.  And thank you.  All of you.  You guys knowhow my head gets sometimes.” 

Brian snorted.  “Boy, do we ever.”  A loud smack sounded. 

“Ow!  What the hell, Dan.  I’m not lying.” 

“We’re here for you, Ar.”  Dan said, ignoring his partner.  “Butyou gotta let us know what’s going on up there. We can’t read your mind.”  

A snort.  “Maybe you can’t.”  Another smack.  “Danny, I swear to god.”

“Please don’t shut us out, Arin.”  Dancontinued.  “The only way we can workthrough things is to talk to each other.”

Arin nodded to himself, feeling a small sting of guilt.

“I know and…I’m sorry.” 

Arin then paused.  A small smile forming on his lips. 

“Congratulations on one Meellion sucks.”  He said in his best Aviimpression. 

Dan and Brian burst out laughing.  Suzy lightly giggling in thebackground.

“Thank you, Arin.  We couldn’t be more grateful.”  Dan said.

“And when we get home, we’ll make sure to suck you for each one.” Brian added. 

“Brian!”  Dan exclaimed.

“What? You know we will.” 

Arin let out a laugh.

“I love you guys.” 

“We love you too, buddy.” 

#asks #polybomb #polygrumps #others prompts #my fics #text post

[artificialqueens]

Welcome Home, Babygirl (Shalaska) - Opal

A/N

Hey guys!

Here’s a little something for all my fellow Shalaska shippers. This is based off a screenshot of a prompt I found in my phone, from about 3 months ago, and I just had to write it!

I’m currently working on chapter 2 of “The Good, The Bad and The Dirty”, and that should be out sometime this weekend, or next week.

(1600+ words)

Hope you enjoy!

(both Alaska and Sharon are cis females in this fic, and it gets pretty smutty, so be prepared for that;))

It was late and Sharon was quietly shuffling around the almost empty lingerie boutique, feeling out of place in the pink and white striped interior. She pulled every lacy undergarment she came across on the racks out, trying to find the perfect one for her girlfriend. Alaska would be returning home from visiting her family the next day, and Sharon wanted to prepare a little surprise for her. Sharon had never been one for shopping, especially not for others, but soon she picked out a black lace bra, black lace panties and matching stockings. She couldn’t wait to see Alaska in that, but even more so, she couldn’t wait to rip it off of her.

Sharon made her purchase and returned home, where she almost immediately fell asleep on the couch.

“Hey baby,” Alaska said, the phone making her voice sound scratchy. “I’m so sorry, but my flight is gonna be delayed a couple of hours due to the snow,” she continued, and Sharon frowned.

“Oh, um, okay.” Sharon said, sounding a bit annoyed.

“I’m so sorry Shar,” Alaska said.

“Don’t apologize Alaska, it’s not your fault, I just can’t wait to see you,” Sharon said, voice growing softer.

Alaska smiled sweetly. “I can’t wait to see you either,” she said and giggled.

“I’ll see you then,” Sharon said, also giggling. That’s what Alaska did to her. Made her all warm and giggly. She loved that girl to pieces. “Love you,” she said, and hung up.

Sharon glanced up at the clock, that was calmly ticking in the living room. Alaska was gonna be home around 10pm. “That’s fine I guess.” Sharon mumbled as Cerrone rubbed his head against her leg, asking for her to pet him. Sharon bent down, picked him up and brought him to the couch with her.

Sharon again looked at the clock, which was already getting close to 8pm. Stunned she had spent 2 hours on the couch, she decided to take a shower.

The warm water was streaming over Sharon’s naked body, as she leaned back her head, rinsing the last bits of shampoo out of her silver locks. She smoothed the hair away from her forehead, squeezing out the water with both her hands, before her right hand found its way to her inner thigh. She slowly stroked herself, trying to mimic the way Alaska would always do it, but without luck. God, she couldn’t wait for her to come home, so she could put her hands on her.

Sharon stepped out of the shower and tied a big soft towel around her body, and twisted her hair in a smaller towel. She then sat down at the bathroom mirror, and began the long process of beating her face. She knew the makeup wasn’t gonna last long, but she still wanted to glam herself up for Alaska. Other than that, she generally just really enjoyed doing her makeup, as it was kind of therapeutic in a way. When she was done doing her face, she slipped into a black lace and mesh bra, very similar to the one she got for her girlfriend, and black see-through mesh panties. She then put on a short formfitting black dress, that hugged her curves perfectly. She ended the look with black red bottoms and soft curls framing her face.

There was still 20 minutes before Alaska would be coming home, so Sharon began tidying up the house a little. As she was organizing little things in the living room, she heard the door unlock.

“Alaska!” She yelled, excited to see her girlfriend. She ran as fast as her heels allowed her to, to the front door, where an exhausted Alaska was dragging her bags in the door.

Her face lit up as she saw Sharon.

“Sharon!” She said, voice high and excited, as she practically jumped on her girlfriend, burying her face in her hair.

“What are you all dressed up for?” Alaska asked, and scrunched her face, smiling.

“Oh nothing, babygirl,” Sharon replied, smirking.

“You look fucking hot,” the blonde said, and gave her girlfriend a quick peck on the lips.

“Thanks babe,” Sharon said, and hugged Alaska once again.

“I feel disgusting, I’m gonna take a shower,” Alaska said, and Sharon quickly ran off into their bedroom. Moments later she returned with a fancy black pater bag, with white silky handles.

“Put these on after,” she said and unconsciously bit her bottom lip.

“What’s this?” Alaska asked, cocking her head to the side.

“You’ll see,” Sharon said, biting her lip again, this time on purpose.

The blonde just smirked and went to the bathroom. When she got out there and closed the door behind her, she got a look at herself in the mirror. She almost got scared of her own reflection. She looked horrendous, she thought. Dark circles under her eyes, greasy messy hair, tied up in a bun on top of her head. She was wearing a pair of black jeans and a gray hoodie. She wrinkled her nose at her look, and started undressing herself.

Sharon was laying on the bed, waiting for Alaska to be done, and when she heard the bathroom door open, she shot up.

The door to the bedroom slowly swung open, and the blonde walked in. The lingerie looked amazing on her, everything fitting her perfectly.

Sharon found herself staring at her girlfriend, jaw dropped. She looked so fucking hot.

Alaska posed against the doorframe, as Sharon seductively sucked on her pointer finger. Alaska slowly walked towards the bed, and Sharon stood up and approached her. Sharon placed her hands on the blonde’s petite waist, and slowly moved them to her ass, that was pretty exposed in the underwear she was wearing. The taller woman crashed her lips with Sharon’s, and grabbed the back of her neck. The two of them then crashed down on the bed, Sharon on top of Alaska, and continued their makeout session. Alaska’s hands were firmly planted on Sharon’s waist, and then they moved up to unzip her dress. The zipper was barely down, before she started tearing the garment off of her, exposing her torso. Sharon sat up, still straddling Alaska, and pulled off her dress completely, giving Alaska a pleasurable sight. The older woman started sucking on the blonde’s neck, leaving little red marks and dark lipstick stains, making Alaska moan softly. Sharon loved the sweet sound of Alaska’s moans.

Alaska sat up on the bed, letting Sharon un-clasp her bra, and take it off her. Sharon kissed her gingerly on the lips, before moving her attention to her chest. She started tracing kisses along Alaska’s collarbones, moving further and further down each kiss. She then moved straight to Alaska’s left breast, kissing it all over, sucking on the nipple. While most her attention was on the left breast, her hand started rubbing the other one, making Alaska moan loudly. Sharon then gave the other breast the same treatment. Alaska’s long nails were tracing up and down Sharon’s spine, turning Sharon on a whole lot.

Sharon started to move down, sprinkling small wet pecks across Alaska’s stomach. The blonde squirmed under Sharon’s affectionate touch, stretching her body in pleasure. Sharon continued to kiss Alaska’s body, all the way to her hipbone, where she proceeded to pull of the blonde’s panties.

Sharon sucked on Alaska’s inner thigh, making the other girl moan uncontrollably, begging her to fuck her.

“Ooh, Sharon, please f-fuck me,” Alaska said in between hitched breaths. Sharon just smirked at her, continuing to suck on her thigh, getting dangerously close to the area that desperately needed attention.

“Please Sharon!” Alaska almost yelled.

“Oh, she’s desperate, huh?” Sharon replied, enjoying the sight of her girlfriend, eyes shut, moaning loudly.

Alaska let out a tiny whimper as Sharon finally leaned in. Sharon’s tongue swirled inside Alaska, making her scream out in pleasure. The feeling of Sharon’s tongue in between her folds, on her clit and teasing her entrance, was threatening to make tears stream down Alaska’s cheeks, as she threw back her head, squeezing her eyes shut. Alaska hooked her legs over Sharon’s shoulders, as she twisted her hands in her silver hair. Her own damp blonde locks were laying across her face, tickling her neck.

Alaska arched her back, as Sharon went deeper, making loud eating noises. Sharon loved the taste of her girlfriend, and she had missed it for those weeks she had been gone.

Sharon felt her own underwear dampen as Alaska’s moans got steadier, and less scream-like. Her right hand found its way to her crotch, where she started rubbing her clit, slowly. She was softly moaning into Alaska, as her free hand slipped in between Alaska’s legs.

The blonde let out a grunt as Sharon inserted two fingers, stretching her open. She rubbed her walls steadily, and Alaska sobbed in pleasure. She went even further in, and found her G-spot, and the younger woman grabbed Sharon’s hair even tougher, as she got closer to the edge.

“Sharon, I-I’m gonna, f-fuuck, fuck!” Alaska screamed, as she rode through her orgasm.

Alaska calmed herself down from her high, and Sharon joined her by her side.She kissed Alaska softly on the lips, and fished her bra from the floor.

“Welcome home, babygirl,” Sharon said, and helped Alaska clasp her bra.

Alaska just smiled sweetly, as she slipped on her underwear.

She then crawled back into bed with Sharon, and they tucked themselves under the covers.

“I love you so much, Noodles.” Alaska said, voice soft and low.

“I love you too, Lasky.”

Soon they were fast asleep, fingers intertwined.

#sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #shalaska #smut #fluff #opal #rpdr fanfiction #submission #lesbian au