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sassypossumm · 5 days

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Finally

Art cred: mao0047 on X (they're really so good...)

FINALLY getting around to cleaning out my inbox, to the lovie that requested Professor!Miguel x Student this one's for you (made reader a TA grad student) MDNI TW: smut,brief mention of child's death, infidelity, P in V,degredation

"Professor? You in here?" Knocking on the heavy door, you frowned when you got no response.

He always did this.

Miguel O'Hara, stodgy genetics prof that he was, had a bad habit of falling down research rabbit holes. And when he did, you might as well have been dealing with the absent minded professor.

Sighing, you shoved open the door and stepped inside, immediately taken aback by the musty smell and horribly dim light. As your eyes adjusted to the light, your heart squeezed at the sight.

When you'd first started this TA program, you'd dreaded your assignment. Genetics?! You'd balked. What on earth did you know about genetics?!

Then you'd met your assigned professor.

Miguel O'Hara, genetics 101 prof. The man was a giant, disheveled, socially awkward, cerebral...teddy bear.

There was no other way to put it. One look at those wide, tired, gorgeous brown eyes and you knew you were sunk. Now, leaning against thr door frame, watching his hulking frame dwarf the dingy hole of an office, you couldn't stop the thundering of your heart.

You cleared your throat, and Miguel's head shot up. You stifled a smile at the way his glasses slid down his nose, and made note of the sheer exhaustion etched into his features. He looked far beyond his 38 years, in fact, he looked ready to be carved into the side of Mount Rushmore alongside the stony faced founding fathers.

"How long you been in here, Professor?" At your concerned tone, Miguel leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. Stepping into the space, you struggled to not let your eyes wander to the way his frame practically swallowed his chair as he man spread.

Sitting across from him, you busied yourself with papers as he ran a hand through his hair and groaned. You rubbed your thighs together, trying not to imagine what those gorgeous thighs of his might feel like braced on either side of you as you-

"Y/N?"

"Huh?" The sound of his voice shot through you, bringing you back to the present. Looking up, you met his eyes, and took in his expectant stare. Clearly he'd been trying to get your attention. Your cheeks heated at your foolish thoughts. Blinking hard, you pushed down the unrealistic notions.

There was no way a man like Miguel O'Hara would ever be interested in you. After all, hadn't you been throwing out hints half the semester.... and after that last poetry session you'd both attended...maybe Hobie was right...you were reading more into the lingering stares than was actually there.

"Yes, professor," You cleared your throat. "I'm sorry, I wasn't listening." Miguel gave you a tired smile and pulled off his bifocals.

"It's okay, Y/N. I remember my last week of finals before I received my PHD."

"Did you get your PHD before or after Fred Flinstone received his?" His eyes creased at the corners at your light banter.

"Before, you smart ass, who do you think tutored him?" He said with a conspiratorial grin. Of all the things you'd done and accomplished in thr past year, this was what you'd miss thr most.

The easy familiarity you and Miguel had slipped into. After papers were graded, and everything was organized, you'd occasionally relax and just... talk. Over a cup of coffee, and even at his house once or twice, you'd just talk.

It was crazy to think just how familiar you'd become with his life. Over the past several months, he'd begun opening up more and more. About his first girlfriend, how he'd left her for his brother's girlfriend. You'd been struck at the thought of the Miguel you knew cheating on anybody...it seemed such an alien idea.

Then he'd shown you the pictures of his daughter, Gabi. The daughter who'd been cruelly taken from him in a car accident. Your heart had broke. To have something so tragic happen, and then to top it off, his wife blamed him for the whole thing.

Youd tried to assure him that it clearly hadn't been his fault, but he'd stiffened and shook off your attempts. On thst one, you'd backed down. He'd put up a clear boundary, and you hadn't wanted to push him away.

Miguel, however, had no qualms about dragging his ex wife through the verbal mud, and venomously at that. From the way he spoke, it was obvious he had no remaining good will for the woman who'd blamed him for his daughters death, and insulted him at every turn for his supposed 'giving up' when he'd begun gaining weight.

Your blood still boiled when you thought about it. The woman was hurting, but that hadn't given her thr right to hurt Miguel. Righteous indignation burned in your belly as you looked at the tured, beautiful man across from you.

He deserved the world.

"Professor,"

"Please, Miguel, we're practically colleagues." He said, stretching his arms above his head.

Now that was odd...

Miguel had always been very strict about remaining professional. Come to think of it, he'd been calling you by your first name since you'd entered... maybe...

"Professor, I don't think that's very," he cut you off with a pointed look.

"Next fall you'll be just as much a professor as I am."

"Shakespearean Poetry and the Romantics can hardly be considered of equal value to genetics." You balk, but not for long. Miguel leaned forward and looked at you intently.

"Poetry is just as valuable as genetics, if not more so." You opened your mouth to argue, but the look in his eyes quieted you. The eyes were thr same, that visible exhaustion seemed a permanent addition to his features, but there was something...something different.

There was an unfamiliar intensity dancing in those deep pools of brown you'd fallen for. Before, you'd adoring thought of his eyes like those of a big puppy, but now...now the only phrase that came to mind was 'bedroom eyes'. You shivered at both the thought, and the electricity you felt growing between you.

On your end, you'd always known that draw existed,but youd never dreamt this giant teddy bear felt the same.

"Professor," Your tone was breathy. His brow raised slightly.

"Miguel." He instructed simply. Your tongue stuck to the rood of your mouth, and your skin grew warmer.

"Miguel." You murmured. He hummed, and you felt a thrill of pride run of your spine at the idea that you'd pleased him. "What, um, what is, what are we," He silenced you with another seerimg look.

"I'm socially awkward, Y/N," he gave you a warm smile. "But not entirely oblivious." Sliding his hand across the table, he grazed your fingers with his thumb. "I'd have to be entirely ignorant to ignore this...spark, if you will, that exists between us."

You shuddered at the contact, your eyes fluttering shut at his husky tone. A deep rumble went through his chest and he raised your fingers to his lips.

"Why wait so long?" You chanced a look at him, and felt your breathing shallow. He smiled against your fingers, and drew your thumb into his mouth, sucking softly, before withdrawing it, nipping the tip teasingly.

Where on earth did this man come from, and what had he done with your Miguel?

"For one thing, it hardly seemed prudent to risk either of our positions for something that was so clearly more than a one time fuck." He said calmly, turning over your hand to kiss thr inside of your wrist. You shuddered at his calculated tone and bit back a sound.

"You don't want to fuck me?" Your voice wavered, the words no more than a breath. Miguel's eyes darkened, and a predatory grin slowly morphed his features from placid genetics teacher to something...lewder.

"Oh, I want to fuck you, hermosa." He purred, sucking at your fluttering pulse point. "But I also want to make love to you, decadently." His lips dance up your arm. "Voraciously."

He stands, leaning over the table to dwarf you completely, pressing delicate kisses along your shoulder and up your neck. "Over. And over. And over again." His voice rumbles low in your ear, sending tendrils of arousal straight to your core.

Your head falls to the side, invitingly. You're not entirely certain what's come over him, but you're not about to question it. A whimper escapes your mouth as he finally turns your face up towards his with a firm hand on your jaw.

"For another thing," he breathed against your lips. "I wanted to see who'd break first."

"You." His lips quirk momentarily at your quip.

"Si, nena. You prove to be quite stubborn." He growls the final word before capturing your lips with his. You moan softly, and when his tongue brushes against yours, you surrender completely.

Whining desperately, you rake your fingers through his hair and tug wantonly at his shirt as his tongue expertly coaxed a litenty of primal praises from your throat. His hand slid down your jaw to enclose gently around your throat, and he groaned as your moans and whimpers sent vibrations through his fingers.

You trid tugging him across the desk, but Miguel simply grunted, tearing his mouth away from yours to press bruising sucks and kisses down the column of your throat. You whined at began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Ah-ah" Miguel growled, catching your hand in his. Biting down on your collar bone, he pulled back and looked at you. "Greedy little thing... we do this my way."

His way meant bending you over the desk, wrists held behind your back in one of his large hands as he took you mercilessly from behind.

"Th-this the fucking you mentioned?" You panted between thrusts, groaning when the base of his cock grazed your clit. Miguel hissed at the way your walls fluttered in response to the stimulation and slowed his pace, wrapping his free hand around the back of your neck, pushing your further into the desks surface.

"Callarse la boca." He grunted, picking up his speed. Miguel's hips slapped against your ass, accompanied by his occasional moan and your profuse broken sounds of pleasure. The erotic sounds seemed to spur him on, and his grip on your neck tightened as he released your wrists to slap your ass soundly. You cried out, clenching around his deliciously hard cock.

"You like that?" He growled, slapping your ass again. "You like being fucked like a slut?" Your eyes squeezed shut and you moaned. He reased your neck and gripped your hair, turning your face roughly as he continued steadily pounding into you.

"Answer me." He hissed, slapping your ass again. You like being fucked like this? Like my own personal cock sleeve?" Your breathing was labored and you moaned weakly. You could feel the veins of his cock as he brushed passed your g-spot with ever thrust.

"I, Uh-huh, so good, Miggy...." He groaned at your needy tone. "Please, need, need it, so bad..." You whimpered, thrumming and flushed, teetering on the edge of climax.

"Shhh. I got you, bebita. I'll give you what you need." He shushed you, pressing a tender kiss to your temple before grabbing your hips and pulling you back into his thrusts. You cried out as his cock bullied your clit and pussy with quick rhythmic thrusts.

"I'm gonna, Migs," You babbled, scrambling for purchase on anything to cling to. Folding himself over you, Miguel laced his hands over yours and murmured nonsensical praises in your ear, not letting up on his punishing pace.

"Let go, I got you."

With those words, you toppled over the edge, twitching and shuddering as you came all over his cock, and went boneless against the desks surface, lost in a haze of white hot pleasure as your walls clamped around his cock like a vice. Miguel groaned and his hips stuttered before his cock twitched, and he came soon after you, filling the condom with his cum.

Sighing heavily, Miguel scooped you into his arms before flopping back in his chair. Cleanup and damage control would be a job for later. Right now, you were sat, warm and sated in his arms.

And that was enough for him.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel imagine #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x y/n #Professor Miguel #Sassy requests

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vktrsnclr · 10 months

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TEACHER'S PET (R18+)

MINORS GTFO

pairing: miguel o'hara x f reader

summary: you're a college freshman in biochemistry and miguel is your professor in biochemical engineering, a major subject that you're about to fail.

warning: I'm a feminist and I'm concerned.

word count: 1.9k+

contents: humiliation, degradation, age gap, height difference, fingering, oral sex, p in v, hair pulling, public groping.

MASTERLIST

It's your first year in college studying biochemistry, the exam results for the first semester's finals are supposed to be distributed today.

Your professor in biochemical engineering, Mr. O'hara discusses the grading system for the second semester but you're losing out of focus. You're staring at his thick voluptuous thighs, thick veiny hands and imagined how he would choke you with it.

You took a gulp at the thought of it. He then started the distribution of the report cards. Your stare followed him as he sat on the table, individually calling out your names and distributing the cards.

"Parker, good job. Reyes, do better next time. Stacy, impressive. Stark..... dios mio." His voice was hoarse. The way he says your last name followed by a spanish term you don't understand sounded like a moan but truly, a term of disappointment.

"Ms. Stark... Are you seriously daydreaming right now?" He asks with a stern voice.

"Oh um, no sir. W-What is it?" Your classmates tried to hold their laugh, you can hear them giggling.

"Get your ass over here." He orders. You stood and walked up to him, hands behind your back, signing 'fuck you' to all of your classmates.

"What are we gonna do with this?" He points at your grade in bio-engineering which is his subject and a major too. You looked at it by bending your torso down, slightly bowing cause you have an eyesight of a dying man. Your cleavage flashes in front of him unintentionally. He tries to look away and focus your report card.

"2.0 (C/73-76%). This is bad." Everyone in your school knows that you're a daughter of a billionaire genius and this is what you got.

Deep inside, you know that the reason you failed is because you've been partying too hard. Just like your father, you're a party animal.

"What can I do?" You asked worriedly.

"Meet me at my office at 6. Class dismissed." He stood up, towering over you at 6'9 ft. He walked out of the room with your classmates.

Your friend, Gwen Stacy clinged on your arm on the way to the cafeteria. You sat with her and his boyfriend, Peter Parker. You can't really understand what they're saying cause your mind is split between your daddy getting disappointed and your disappointed professor being such a daddy.

Four hours later, it's time to go home but you still have to go to Mr. O'Hara regarding your first semester results. You walked into an empty faculty, the other teachers already went home. You walked by Miguel's office window and saw him looking at his watch with what seems to be an irritated brow. You proceeded to walk inside his office, it's smells good and is neatly organized.

"Good evening Mr. Ohara."

"Miss Stark. You're 10 minutes late. Seems like you're not being very committed to your studies." He clenched his jaw and his pair of brow furrowed.

"I'm sorry I was j-"

"Was just expecting 'daddy' to fix it with his money?" He stood up and mocks, pertaining to your father offering a grant to your school.

"No... sir, I just ran into my friends." You opposed, looking down at the floor.

"Are they gone?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Sit down." He sighs.

In a heartbeat, you sat down in a reclining chair right next to the table. He walks up to you, taking his crotch inches away from your face.

"Good girl." He takes your chin to look up at him. The view made your heart race and your cunt twitch.

"You think I'm not aware of your lustful eyes, hermosa?" He looks directly into your eyes with his hands still on your chin. Your eyes gawks and your face slowly turns red, not knowing what to say.

"Mr- Sir, I uh, I'm here for extra credits." You stuttered.

"Uh huh, what else?" He leans down, not breaking an eye contact.

"Uhhh... um m-my dad can pay you!" You blurted out of nowhere. You didn't know what to say since your mind is occupated by dirty thoughts but now you just seemed like a brat.

"Daddy's money hmm?"

"I'm your daddy here." He whispered roughly onto your ear, his hands shifted from your chin into your neck, gently gripping under your jaws.

"Daddy?" You spoke weakly.

"That's right, bitch." He replied with smirk.

You kind of expected this as a cliché porn category but you had no idea that you're gonna experience this in real life.

"You want credits? You little slut?" He cups the side of your cheeks and leans back to watch your face near his pants again.

"Yes! Yes, I want it." You nodded in agreement.

"Then earn it." He grabs a fistful of your hair and rubs it softly in his black pants with a huge bulge on it. You can smell his essence leaking from the fabric. This is all you ever dreamed of since the first day of school, you didn't think it would happen but it DID. All of your fantasies, clothed in black, sliding across your face.

You unbuttoned his pants in a hurry, dropping his undergarments down then finally busting his dick in front of you.

"Good girl." He slapped your face and you loved it. You proceeded to wet your lips to seduce him. He gripped on your hair tighter as you lick the tip of his 8-inch fat cock.

"Fuck." He groans, his voice deep and hoarse. You licked his length, wetting it together with his pre-cum leaking from the tip then swirled your tongue in its head while jerking him off.

"Holy shit you're good." The corner of his lip curling upwards.

He started throat fucking you, his head thrown back, moaning in pleasure. His cock reached your throat but you continued to take it until your eyes water. Miguel likes the way you look, internally choked by his massive cock.

He drags you up and makes you open your mouth as you spread your tongue that still has his pre-cum.

"Swallow." He ordered and you followed. You showed him an empty tongue to prove it.

"I'm gonna fucking destroy you." He places his hand on your chin to squeeze your face and starts kissing you roughly, like you've taken something from him. This is exactly how you want it. It's wet, sloppy and aggressive.

His kisses trailed down on your neck, you let him take off your clothes, even tear it up. He threw your designer clothes in the air like it was nothing. You would let this man do anything to you.

He began to roam his hands all over your body, from pumping your breasts down to your vagina, already dripping. He circles his middle finger on your clit sensually.

"You want this?" Miguel asks between the kisses.

"Uh huh." Your mouth can't form a proper word but a moan. He slaps you again, wanting you to say it clearly.

"You want this, you whore?!" He dips his hand on your hole, teasing you.

"Yes daddy, do it!" A high pitch pornographic whine came out of your mouth.

He then crooks his head onto your neck, leaving marks as he rams his finger up in your hole, sounds of wet squelching, moans and ass slaps filled the corners of his office. He reaches for the back of your clit inside your tight cunt and it drove you crazy. Your eyes roll at the back of your head. Unlike your other sexual partners, Miguel knows all about human anatomy.

"I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you." He takes your hands from his cock to your back, pulls his belt out of his pants and then ties your wrists.

"Yes please, I've been dreaming of this." You replied while he bends you over on the desk.

"Oh I bet you do you fucking slut." Miguel teases the tip of his cock on your clit, both wet from foreplay.

"Please fuck... fuck me."

Without any reply, Miguel rams his long and fat dick inside you, filling your walls with euphoria.

You groaned in pain after he put his full length in.

"Daddy it hurts."

"Nah, you can take it cariño." He reassures then pins your head on the desk while thrusting deep on your leaking hole.

"You... You've been spending a lot of time with that Parker boy huh? You like him?" He asks curiously, grabbing your hair.

"No, please he's with Gwen." You explained.

"You guys fuckin? Huh?" He ignores your answer while pounding at your pussy, making you scream in pain and pleasure.

"No daddy, Pleaaase.... I only want you. I want youuu." He grabs your tits from the back, holding it for support as his pace goes slower, making it comfortable for you.

"That's my girl. Now I'm gonna make you mine." His last words before sucking the skin off of your neck, leaving love marks that is visible to everyone.

"Ironman's daughter, pumping on my dick with her drenched punani. What's he gonna do? Save you?" He laughs devilishly. At this point you didn't care about your reputation. Your body wants him, even your cunt pulses everytime you peak behind your back to see him using you.

"You're my daddy, please fuckin destroy me." You surrendered. Miguel removes his belt on your wrists and puts it back as he pins it over your head in missionary position. Now, he can see your face while he fucks you, your lips smeared in red lipstick, smiling psychotically. Becoming undone by the stroke of his dick, his hands playing with your nipples and the other holding your wrists.

Your smile made him excited. His thrusts go faster and faster as you scream his name. "Mr. O'hara I'm cumming." You whined. It made him chuckle, you using honorifics despite your pussy currently being destroyed. He bit his lips, carried you by the hips, using you as his fucktoy. He pumps his dick in your tight little hole in a doggy position. Your feet doesn't even touch the floor because of your height difference. You simply just hang in the air with your pussy continously getting pounded.

"Shit shit shit I'm cumming." He whimpers.

"Cum inside daddy." It's the first time you had sex without protection and now you want him to cum inside you.

"That's right, princesa."

He continued plunging his sword into your uterus ramming even harder, seconds later, he busts his load. Your pussy's leaking with his thick cum all the way to your thighs. He lets go of your hips and places you on the table, back arched, pussy flowing.

He puts your panties back without cleaning your pussy, only the sides and the extra cum dripped on your legs and thighs.

"You did great, mija" He kisses your forehead.

"I did?"

"Yes you did." He smiles softly, saying it like he's a proud mentor.

After that encounter, he kept you as his pet, your friends noticed the hickeys on your neck every now and then and your alibi is always getting burnt by the hair curler. Flash Thompson even joked that the hair curler you're talking about is Mr. O'Hara.

Even if you denied it and threatened him with a lawsuit, It's obvious. Your lustful stares in the classroom, the special treatment you get in class above all the other students.

At times when the corridor is empty, he would grope your ass, spank it and squeeze it until you reach the classroom, walking in together at the same time. Your friends would always ignore the same smell coming out of you and Mr. O'hara. Fucking in every empty room, any chance that you get. You've certainly become the teacher's pet.

#miguel x reader #professor miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #spider man smut #across the spiderverse #oscar isaac #marvel #marvel smut #degrading k1nk #mcu smut #oscar issac imagine #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara #Spotify

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int-writersmind · 5 months

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The Quid Pro Quo

Paring: College! Peter Parker x Reader (reader's an English major)

Summary: On a rainy night, sparks fly when the two of you exchange notes on each others classwork.

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre: Fluff

authors note: hey, I might be a recent college graduate, doesn't mean everything is accurate ok? 🤭

Light rain taps against the window of Empire State University's library windows. You find yourself alone on the second floor at a table, wanting to tear your hair out over your Physics homework.

It was Friday night, the library was practically empty since most students were out partying or at the very least not thinking about their classwork. You, on the other hand, had made a deal with a fellow student to help one another on each’s work, a classic quid pro quo. You, an English major, were gonna exchange helpful notes on your classmate's Frankenstein paper that was due Monday, and he, in return, would help you prepare for your Physics test the following Tuesday. It was a great idea, brilliant even, if only Peter Parker weren’t running late.

You check your phone one more time before standing up and stretching your legs. You walk over to the big gothic looking window your table was next to, glancing at the rain smacking into the glass.

God, there were so many things you could have been doing right now instead of standing here like a young wife waiting for her husband to return from the sea. Like curling up with a nice book, with a hot cup of your favorite beverage, getting lost in whatever world and-

“Sorry I’m late!” came a familiar voice.

You turn and see that Peter Parker had decided to finally make an appearance after all. With your arms crossed, you watch as he quickly runs up the steps, tripping and almost falling while doing so. “I was starting to think you died or something.” You say quite sarcastically.

“Oh much worse,” Peter says, “Subway delays.” As you return to your seat, Peter sits on the other side, quickly taking out his own laptop and notebook. “What should we start on?”

“I don’t know if I can stand anymore Physics right now,” You glance at your phone, A Daily Bugle notification on top: Spider-Man v Lizard! Havoc on the A-Line!. You swipe it away, maybe it was better to go straight to the dorms after this. “Let’s just start on this Frankenstein paper since it’s much more open-ended.”

“Boo, I hate open ended,” Peter turns on his laptop, “At least with science everything can be quantified.”

“What about theories huh?”

“Theories can be backed up or disproven! English, it’s-it’s sooo subjective.” Peter sighs, “What do you mean the blue curtains represent depression! I have blue curtains, but not because I’m depressed but because they were on sale!”

“Ha-ha, like I haven’t heard that before” You shake your head and roll your eyes, “So, let’s see what you have. Wait, maybe it’s better if I-” You get up from your seat and walk over to sit on the chair next to Peter. “That’s better, now we can look at the screen together.”

Peter places one arm on the back of your chair, no thought really behind it. You pause for a moment before fake coughing, re-focusing on the screen in front of you.

Peter was one year older and the two of you met at an English course, Literature by Women, a gen-ed for him but a required class for you. You got to know each other the first week of the semester when your Professor assigned partner work to go through a set of poems. Ever since then the two of you would occasionally text each other with simple questions about class. That’s when you found out Peter was in a higher track for Physics and became an absolute annoyance when it came to questions. But Peter always lent a hand and never with any bitterness.

“You ok?” Peter asks.

You look at Peter whose face reads concern, “Yeah, just a little tired that’s all. Long day.” You turn back to the screen glancing at the title and opening lines of Peter’s paper.

“Ugh same,” groans Peter, “I got so caught up with something, I forgot to eat lunch”

“Oh, I think I have something.” You stop a few lines into the first paragraph, reaching over the table to grab your bag on top, you dig inside until you find half of a sandwich that you bought earlier. “Here, I didn’t know this sandwich had tomatoes and I just find them disgusting.” You make a face of disgust that causes a small laugh to come from Peter.

“You know you can always just take the tomatoes off right?”

“What about the tomato juices?” You say, “The remnant of the tomato never goes away!” You make a huge swapping gesture, “Do you want the damn sandwich or not?”

He puts his hands up in fake surrender, “Ok, ok.”

Peter takes his arm off the back of your chair scooting closer to the table before digging into the sandwich. You settle into reading Peter’s paper about the ethics of Dr. Frankenstein.

“Ok…ok, what you have so far it’s…”

“Horrible..terrible–” Peter sighs.

You turn and gently smack Peter on the arm, “Oh shut up,” You say, “It’s a good foundation, clear thesis, your paragraphs for the most part support it–”

“But…”

“But,” You widen your eyes and make a face. “You focus too much on the actual science of everything going on, focus more on the emotional. Victor uses the Creature for his own selfish desire not only for scientific exploration.”

“You got all of that from my paper?”

“More or less,” You turn your attention back to the computer screen, scrolling over the paper again. “See, anyone can write a thorough paper if they put their mind to it.”

“And…anyone can pass Physics if they put their mind to it as well. Let’s switch topics.”

“Oh, god no,” You say. “The greatest weakness of English majors…Science!”

You lean back as if you were fake fainting, a little too far back as you almost tip over in your seat, but Peter catches your arm just in time. “Woah there Faint-y, can lose you yet.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” Peter closes his laptop, and grabs his notebook, you hand him your Professor given study guide. Peter glances at the document, nodding and shaking his head at certain terms. “Ok little English major, time to blow your mind with some science!”

“Certainly, but not in the way you're imagining.”

Peter just rolls his eyes and points to one of the first lines in the study guide that you're underlining and adding several question marks to. “Let’s start here.”

Your little tipping incident sent your chair slightly further away from Peter’s than earlier. With the underside of his hand, he pulls your chair, and you, closer to him. This causes you to hitch your breath. “Pete you gotta stop doing that.” You joke.

Peter doesn’t look up from the paper. “Stop doing what?”

You huff and glance away before looking back at him. “God are you purposely annoying or just clueless?”

Peter finally looks at you, a slight smile on his face, “I just need you close to me…to-to, uh, to explain this concept. Obviously.”

“Yeah,” You blow a raspberry. “Obviously.”

You groan, letting your head fall into your hands on top of the table, “I’m resigned to the fact that I might have to drop out of Physics.”

“No, don't! Physics is super fun!” Peter says with a little bit too much enthusiasm.

You peek one eye through your fingers, “Pete, I don’t think we’re working on the same frequency.”

“Ok, well I have a totally funny Physics joke for you,” Peter readies himself, “What did the male magnet say to the female magnet? Seeing you from the back, I thought you were repulsive. But seeing you from the front, I find you rather attractive.”

You pick your head up and lightly punch Peter in the arm, “You’re lucky you’re cute, because I’m already–Ah, spider!”

A modest size brown spider crawls out of reach from your hand on the table. You reflexively go to swat at it but Peter catches your hand before you could do so. You glance at Peter’s hand on yours rather than at him. He quickly lets go of your hand before he goes and picks up the spider ever so gently.

You follow him as he walks over to the window, the rain slowing down. He cracks open the window, urging the bug outside. You lean against the other side of the window, arms crossed over your chest, you can’t help it when a dry laugh escapes your mouth, “Sorry, but are you secretly some kind of spider-whisper.”

“Hmm,” Peter closes the window, “Maybe. Just looking out for the little guy I suppose.”

You can’t help but smile, truly genuine this time. You reach out and take one of Peter’s hands. “Come on, I think we’ve earned a break.”

You pull Peter by the hand, taking a second to close his laptop, and throwing your jacket over everything on the table. You turn around, switching what hand is holding on to Peter’s. You continue down one path weaving up and down other bookshelves, passing empty tables, you make a sudden turn down an aisle letting go of Peter’s hand. You trail your fingers over the spines of the books, as Peter follows behind you, hands in his pocket. When you make it to the end of the aisle, you stand in front of a window, the rainstorm continuing on. “I actually find rainstorms to be rather romantic.” You say.

“The Shelly kind or the Valentine kind?” Peter says, leaning against the bookshelf.

“Both.” You peek back, a smirk playing on your lips. You walk over to Peter, standing with just enough space for someone to squeeze through.

“Not so romantic when you’re caught up in it.” Peter glances at the window, then at you. “I’ve been caught…too many times.”

“So have I,” You step a little closer, testing the waters, Peter doesn’t react. “But you have to admit there’s something, I don’t know, intimate, about being sheltered in place, with just one other person. Like under an umbrella, or the awning of some corner store bodega–”

“Or in-between bookshelves at your college’s library?” Peter’s hand comes up to gently grasp your hand, your fingers slowly interlocking with one another. He pulls you in close, in between his legs. You place your other hand on his chest to prevent yourself from falling. “I might not be an English major but I think I can read between the lines.”

“And if I wasn’t so tired, I would totally come up with a Physics joke.” You response, your face flush red.

He brings his other hand to your face, his palm resting on your cheek, his fingers slowly disappearing into the nape of your hair. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Hmm, maybe…let me ask you one question?” You say.

“Shoot.”

“Can I kiss you first?”

Peter smiles, then nods. You bring the hand that was on his chest upwards, sliding up his neck, until your own hand is entangled in his hair. You close your eyes and lean forward, pressing your lips ever so gently to his. He pauses for a moment before kissing you back, slowly, taking his time. His lips felt soft against your own, warm and comforting, even if you could still taste the tomatoes from earlier. You can’t help but giggle at the thought.

“What is it?” Peter says between kisses.

You move away just a little, you quickly peck him on the lips, once, twice–”It doesn’t really matter.”

Peter deepens the kiss, bringing both hands to hold your face, his thumbs gently caressing the skin beneath them. You loop both your arms around his neck, letting your body fall into his, your chest pressing against his. His tongue enters your mouth and it falls in rhythm with yours, dancing an unseen dance.

The two of you stop for a moment, foreheads resting on one another. “You know I’m still dropping Physics right?” You say through closed eyes and heavy breathing.

“Then I’ll keep kissing you until you change your mind.” Peter answers.

He holds you in his arms as he stands up fully, keeping his grip on you tight as he kisses you again. One of his hands drifts to your bottom, an open hand just resting on top of your clothing.

“Oh Parker,” You whisper. “Not as innocent as you look.”

“You have no idea…”

He buries his head into your neck, placing kisses up and down that make your eyes roll back. “We should…we should definitely continue this study session back at my dorm…since you know… the library closes soon.”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” Peter says as he now moves on to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe.

You break away from him, pushing him back ever so lightly, taking his hand in yours. You lead him down the aisle, half-walking, half running.

“Come on, I still have a Physics test to pass”

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

Hey there, thanks for reading! Hope you liked it. If you like this consider checking out my other fluff-y story Potential Customer . Goodbye Void!

masterlist

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #insomniac spider man #insomniac peter parker x reader #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #peter parker x y/n #ps4!Peter Parker x reader #spider man 2 ps5 #ps5!peter parker x reader #spiderman remastered #peter parker fluff #insomniac!Peter Parker #insomniac!peter parker x reader

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pedropascallme · 6 months

Text

Office Hours

Pairing: professor!Damien Haas x f!Reader

Summary: "'I’m sorry,' Your gaze settled on the knot in his tie before moving upwards to look him in the eye. 'I’ve been—I guess I’ve just been getting easily distracted…big room, lots of people.' Hot professor."

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), implied age gap (Damien is his actual current age, reader is 20-22), student/teacher relationship, spanking, dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, spitting, cum play, Medieval German literature (it needs a warning trust me), mild dom/sub dynamics, kinda softdom!Damien. If I missed anything please let me know!!

AN: Fuck it Damien Haas fic because that man has been tormenting me with his new hair and 5 o'clock shadow. I guess I write for the Smosh cast now.

He wasn’t wearing his glasses today.

His hair was pushed up, and you noticed he fiddled with it out of habit; short bangs falling over his face when he got into a point he was making before he pushed it back out of his face. It was an endless cycle.

His tie was ever so slightly loose around his neck, the first button of his shirt undone so that you could see the muscles in his neck quirk when he laughed.

If only you spent as much time studying for Professor Haas’s class as you did daydreaming about him, you might not be struggling to follow along with the lecture he was giving. But it all went in one ear and out the other; too focused on the way you could see his sharp upper teeth when he smiled at one of your peers, happy to answer a question. You liked the topic, in theory—really, you were taking the class for a reason, if Intro German Literature hadn’t appealed to you, you wouldn’t have signed up for it during your course registration, never mind that the man who taught it was young and pretty and sharp as a fucking tack. But you got so caught up with your own imagination, listening to his voice and the way he read lines of text that you otherwise wouldn’t have tossed a second glance toward.

And suddenly, it was your favorite class, and your lowest grade.

Your eyes flickered to the clock on the wall just as Professor Haas dismissed the class, his own line of sight cornering you where you sat. You packed your laptop away into your bag and began to follow your classmates out of the room when you heard your name called.

“Do you have a minute?” Dr. Haas leaned against the podium at the front of the room, looking concerned. You walked to the front of the lecture hall, fiddling with the straps of your bag and silently encouraging him to speak up again. “You’re not in trouble, I just—your grades are slipping. It feels unlike you.” He furrowed his brow, standing up straight to face you, and you hoped the fluorescent lighting did an alright job of hiding the blush that crept over your cheeks.

Busted.

“I’m sorry,” Your gaze settled on the knot in his tie before moving upwards to look him in the eye. “I’ve been—I guess I’ve just been getting easily distracted…big room, lots of people.” Hot professor.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” and he spoke with such sincerity that you almost believed him, the mortification seeping into your bones as if he knew exactly what was distracting you. “I know you’re a good student—honestly, I don’t blame you for getting distracted in here.”

“Yeah, it’s a shame, especially since Hildebrandslied is usually such an easy read.” You tried your hand at a joke to ease the tension you felt. He smiled.

“We could make it easier. Do you think one-on-one time could help?” He grabbed his jacket, laying it over his arm before returning his attention to you. “I have office hours tomorrow; I could carve out some time afterwards. Why don’t you swing by my office, we can go over some stuff.”

You tried to stop yourself from swooning, “I think that might help, yeah.”

“Great! Bring any questions you have. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

You let him walk out ahead of you, leaving you alone in the classroom to consider what it would be like to spend time alone with the biggest crush you shouldn’t have.

~~~

“Come in!” You pushed the door open, standing idly in the threshold and cradling your laptop in your arms. “C’mon, sit.” Professor Haas looked up at you from the seat behind his desk. You’d never been inside his office before, but it had a cozy feeling to it; dark wooden furniture and cushioned chairs, a faint scent of lavender hanging in the air. He had knickknacks on his desk, characters you didn’t recognize, a small German flag hung over the door, and a bookshelf full of titles you were mostly unfamiliar with.

“It’s nice in here.” You spoke up, sitting in one of the chairs opposite him. He took off his glasses.

“Would’ve been nice to have a window. Dr. Topp, in psychology, is across the hall. Great window in his office.” You broke into a smile, and he did the same, keen to break up any awkward feelings to help you focus on your work. “What’d you bring for me?”

You set your laptop out in front of you, “I just…I don’t get it. And I knew I wouldn’t get it, since nobody gets it, because it’s, like, the worst, and it’s inconsistent, and riddled with copying errors—”

“Woah! Take it back a step,” He cut off your frustrated rambling with a laugh, “First things first, tell me which dialogue you’re having the most trouble with.”

“I guess…Hildebrand’s second speech? The one where he’s talking about Hadubrand.” You clicked your mousepad to open the PDF you had of the Hildebrandslied, highlighting the passage you were talking about before turning the screen towards your professor. He clicked his tongue at you.

“Think it might help to have an actual copy?” He arched a brow. You bit your lip, nodding an affirmative. You closed your laptop, watching him stand and walk over to the bookshelf, scanning the spines of the books with his finger before landing on the copy he was looking for, pulling it out of its spot on the shelf and bringing it back over to you.

“Thanks,” you expected him to return to his seat, but he remained behind your chair, leaning over you with his hand on the back of your seat to thumb through the pages until finding the passage you were confused by. “Maybe it was just the screen distracting me. Blue light, or whatever.” You offered, a shy joke to take your mind off of the way he loomed over you.

“Yeah? Wouldn’t be shocked. Helps to have it all down on paper sometimes.” His voice was deep, and it echoed through your whole body. He scanned over the words now, trying to find a good starting point, before letting out a triumphant exhale and pointing to the beginning of a sentence, “Start here.”

You began reading, painfully aware of your professor’s presence behind you and occasionally stumbling despite reading the modern English translation. You stopped when he cleared his throat.

“Tell me what that passage was about,” He prompted.

“I—I dunno, he’s talking about Hadubrand.” You felt yourself suddenly giving into the frustration this book had been causing you all semester.

“But what about Hadubrand? What’s the theme?” He pushed, trying to encourage more than a blunt, apathetic answer from you.

“I don’t know, Professor, you tell me.” You bit back, forgetting yourself and who you were speaking to for a moment, overwhelmed by him. “I’m sorry…” You mumbled, peaking at him from over your shoulder. He crossed his arms, looking down at you.

“What’s distracting you?” His voice was soft and calm, remarkably still for a man whose subordinate just snapped at him.

“I don’t know…” You lied through your teeth.

“Tell me. I can’t help if I don’t know what you need.”

You sucked in a breath, sharp and cold in your nostrils, before letting it out slowly, turning your body in your chair to face him fully. “…You.”

“Hm?” Professor Haas furrowed his brow, mouth parting slightly as if to say something before quickly closing it.

“You’re…distracting me.” You swallowed. The air around you suddenly felt thick, and you were prepared to hear him tell you how wildly inappropriate this was, how you needn’t even explain yourself, that you should just leave.

“Huh.” You watched him bite the inside of his cheek, raising an eyebrow. He walked back to the chair behind his desk, sitting with his legs spread, the fabric of his pants pulled taught over his thighs. “Come here,” he beckoned.

“Wh—” Now your brow furrowed.

“You need a little motivation. Come here. Sit.” He patted his thigh. You stood, pulse quickening as you walked toward him, hesitantly lowering yourself over him, thankful that you had chosen to wear a skirt that offered you the room to spread your legs wide as you straddled him. “That’s it,” he drank you in with his eyes, raking them over you, and you preened at his actions, arching your back into him slightly to give him a better view of you on his lap. “I think…for every wrong answer you give me, I get to punish you.” His voice took a wicked tone.

“And for right answers?” You whispered.

“So confident now,” He teased. “You’ll get what you deserve.” He smiled again, and you realized how beautifully dominant it made him look. “What’s the main theme of the story?”

“I—mm…” You racked your brain, now more distracted than ever, but trying desperately to make Dr. Haas proud, “I don’t know.” You answered meekly. You felt a sharp smack on your thigh, and you yelped, bunching the collar of his shirt in your hands.

“Try again.” He ran his hand in soothing circles over the spot he had hit.

“It’s—is it honor?” You felt him squeeze gently at the meat of your thigh before his hand glided over your skin to knead your ass.

“Good girl.” He gave you a particularly rough squeeze and you moaned, falling forward onto his chest, sticking your ass out to offer him easier access. “That’s right. See what happens when you do a good job?” His fingers dipped under the waistband of your panties. You mumbled a yes into his shirt, and he gave you a light spank. “What’s that?”

“Yes, sir.” You corrected yourself, hoping that’s what he was waiting for. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you flush against him so that your nose touched his.

“You like doing a good job?” His words were growled, and you nodded enthusiastically, “Gonna keep doing a good job?” You nodded again, and he continued his line of questioning. You remembered characters you thought you had no recollection of; names and places that had otherwise escaped you, as if sitting on his lap and letting him manhandle you was all you had needed to succeed. You lapped up the praise he offered you when you did well, and squirmed and whined when he punished your forgetfulness.

After 20 minutes, you found yourself huddled against him, face nuzzled into his neck as he recounted the things you needed more practice with, his hands roaming over your body. He pulled you out of your hiding spot gently, coaxing you to make eye contact with him. “Do you need anything else?” His fingers traced your jawline.

“Mm…” You leaned into his touch, “Need you, sir.” He halted his movements, and his hand found the back of your neck.

“Can I kiss you?” He scanned your face, dropping the façade of dominance; you saw his eyes anxiously searching for signs that he was overstepping any boundaries you had. You almost laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck, and closing the distance between you. You moaned at the taste of him against you, eagerly slipping your tongue into his mouth. He pulled at the hair on the back of your head, stepping back into his dominant role and setting the pace, showing you that he was in charge. He bit at your bottom lip before running his tongue over it to soothe the sting, then repeating the action over again. Your hand came to rest on his chest, fingers sloppily attempting to undo the buttons of his shirt, and he smirked against your lips. You felt one arm wrap around your waist, the other gripping your ass, and he stood up, holding you tight before placing you onto the desk. You wrapped your legs around his hips, and he undid his tie, giving himself space to undo the buttons of his shirt that you had been unable to.

“So pretty,” He broke from you briefly to untuck his shirt from his pants, “So pretty, so fucking good. Smart, pretty girl.” He reconnected his lips to yours, his hand on your jaw forcing your mouth open wide, allowing him to lick into you and watch saliva pool over your bottom lip. “Just needed a little discipline.”

You mewled, reaching out to trail fingers over his now uncovered skin, relishing the warmth of his abdomen as your palm connected to him. He moved down to kiss your jawline, nipping and sucking shapes onto your neck, pulling moans from you as he did so.

“Please,” You breathed out when he sucked on a sensitive spot over your collar bone, biting at the new bruise before licking over it. “More.” You felt his hand reaching between your bodies, flipping up your skirt, fingers pressing against the growing wet spot on your panties. You unwound your legs from around him, giving him space to touch you properly.

“Like this?” He was taunting you, watching you lean your head back on nothing and move your hips against his fingers in an attempt to gain friction where you desperately needed it.

“Yes, s—oh!” You wrapped your fingers around his forearm when he moved your panties to the side, plunging two thick fingers into your heat and moving his thumb in tight circles over your clit.

“There y’go,” He looked absolutely filthy like this; his hair falling over his eyes, muscles in his arm tensing as he pushed his fingers in and out of you, jaw clenched in focus, “need a reward for all the work you did today?”

You whimpered, grinding against his hand and choking on your breath when the tips of his fingers brushed the sensitive spot inside you. “Yes, sir—need you.”

“I know, baby,” He curled his fingers, pressing his palm against your clit and watching you squirm for him, “Let me see how pretty you look when you cum—show me how my good girl looks when she cums for me.” He feathered his fingers over your g-spot; fast, ticklish touches that made your toes curl and your back arch, and he soon had you trembling for him, cunt squeezing him when you came. He removed his fingers, and you felt yourself clench around the emptiness when he brought them to your mouth and told you to suck. “Yeah, good girl…” He palmed himself over his pants, and you hummed, licking your cum off of his hand before releasing his fingers with a quiet pop and reaching down to undo his zipper. He let you, watching you pull his cock from its confines.

You dropped from the desk and onto your knees, pumping his length in one hand and spitting on the other, joining them together to stroke him. He felt heavy in your hands, and you felt excited heat building in your stomach when you took his tip in your mouth, looking up at him from under your lashes to see his mouth agape, eyes focused on your movements. He pulled stray strands of hair out of your face, tugging them into a ponytail and guiding your mouth over him.

“God, I want to fuck your face,” his thumb swiped at the drool slipping from the corner of your mouth. “Want me to do that next time, baby? Use your mouth whenever you get an answer wrong?” You moaned, muffled by his cock in your mouth, thrilled by the promise of a next time. Your jaw quickly became sore, the stretch of his thick cock almost too much, and you gagged when his tip pushed against the back of your throat. He laughed softly watching you struggle to take it, hand guiding you backwards to give yourself room to breathe.

“You wanna get back up here and let me fuck you?” You pulled yourself off of him, clamoring to sit back on the desk and stripping your clothes from your body as quickly as you could, then letting him spread your legs open as he lined himself up with you. “So fucking eager—is this what you kept daydreaming about? Sitting in my class and thinking about letting me fuck you?”

“Yes—yes, sir. All I could think about,” You pulled him closer, letting him crowd you and pressing kisses into his neck while he stroked himself against you, “Needed it.” He grabbed you by the chin to bring your line of sight up to him, forcing you to look him in the eyes while the tip of his cock pressed against your entrance.

“Open your mouth,” you did as he said, shivering when he spit into your mouth before forcing your lips closed with his hand, “Swallow it.” You obeyed, opening your mouth once more to show him you followed his instructions, and he smiled, repeating the action, then dipping his tongue into your mouth to taste himself on you. The head of his cock still nudged your cunt, and you began to feel impatient.

“You want me to fuck you?” He was baiting you, had you exactly where he wanted you, and now all he needed was to hear you beg for it. It worked; rambled pleads and begged gibberish fell from your lips, imploring him to take you, hungry and desperate to feel his cock split you open. He pushed forward, nearly overwhelmed by the wet heat of your cunt as you swallowed the first inch, then the next.

“Fu—ck,” You let out a strangled cry, and he clapped a hand over your mouth.

“Gotta be quiet for me, baby,” though he desperately wanted to hear your moans, he knew it would be best to keep quiet, to not draw any attention to yourselves. Still, it didn’t stop him from pushing the rest of his length into you, watching your face contort in pleasure when he bottomed out. You let out a string of soft, pathetic whimpers, and he pulled you against his chest, letting you muffle your cries into his skin.

“So fucking perfect—fuck!—oh my god…perfect girl, take it just like that.” His voice came out in a growl as he rocked his hips into you roughly, pushing you back with the force of his thrusts until you were lying on the wood of the desk with your legs swung over his shoulders, eyes glazed over with satisfaction, completely cockdumb for him. His hands ventured upwards, squeezing your breasts before reaching back down to massage your clit. You arched into his touch, eyes rolling back and letting out whispered pleas for him to give it to you harder, faster, rougher, please, sir.

He gave you what you wanted; one arm enveloping your legs where they rested against him, guiding your body over his cock and watching the way your cunt hugged him, fluttering around him when he told you how pretty you looked, how his smart girl was taking his cock so well. The fingers on your clit sped up, primed to pull another orgasm from you.

“One more, baby, you can do it—let me feel you squeeze me nice and tight.” He leaned over you, thrusts still harsh and fingers on your clit moving with precision as he brought his lips to yours again. You let your legs drop from his shoulders and wrapped them around his torso, pulling him into you and letting him bury his cock inside of you. He rewarded you with a groan.

“Wanna cum—cum for you,” You stammered, fingers laced through his hair while your other hand gripped his bicep, “make me cum, sir.”

Your words spurred him on, and his thrusts became slow and deep, remaining absolutely carnal, pushing against your most sensitive spot and making your vision blur behind tears that threatened to spill. You pulled him down by his neck for another kiss, climaxing when his mouth connected with yours, legs spasming and thighs squeezing around his waist.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” you watched his head loll forward and his eyes squeeze shut, nearing his own high. His thrusts were sloppy now, frenzied with need. He pulled out, fucking his fist before spilling over you; his cum painted your pussy, dripping over your swollen clit, your lips and inner thighs, before disappearing between the plush skin of your ass. He swore he would remember the image forever.

He got on his knees in front of you, pulling you closer to the edge of the desk before nipping at your thighs, licking his cum off of your skin. You sighed, before letting out a whimper when his tongue licked into your hole. He groaned at the way your taste blended perfectly with his own, sucking softly on your overstimulated clit while you tugged at his hair, mewling when he dipped his tongue into you again. He continued his ministrations for a while longer, returning to your thighs and sucking bruises onto the flesh. He returned to your core again, and the messy, wet sounds of his mouth on your cunt were music to your ears.

He stood again, panting, planting his hands on the desk on either side of you and head falling onto your chest. You combed your fingers through his hair.

“C’mere,” he straightened up and pulled you towards him, letting you wrap yourself around him and feel the warmth of his flushed skin against your own. His hand came to grip your jaw and you opened your mouth, "You learn so fast when you're paying attention." He mused, spitting into your mouth and watching you swallow. There was a moment of drawn out quiet; both of you steadied your breathing, remaining intertwined with each other. Professor Haas broke the silence first.

“Was that ok?” He stroked your hair, making ringlets around his finger before letting them unravel and repeating the movement with another strand.

“Just what I needed.” You spoke, voice still shaky from pleasure.

He cupped your cheek in his hand, analyzing your features with heavy lidded eyes. “Can I kiss you again?”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, “Your cum is dripping down my leg. You can do whatever you want.”

“Can’t blame a guy for asking,” He grinned and pulled you into him, taking his time with the kiss and savoring the way you tasted, his tongue occasionally bumping into your own as you patiently explored each other in your post-coital bliss.

“Think you’ll be able to pay attention during class time now?” He leaned his forehead against yours.

“Absolutely not,” you giggled, and he kissed your forehead, “might need more one-on-one time.”

“Yeah?” He smiled, the hand that was cupping your face moved to trace shapes on your back and shoulders, “think we could work something out.”

#damien haas #damien haas smut #damien haas fanfiction #damien haas x reader #damien haas x you #smosh #smosh pit #smosh games #smosh squad #smoshblr #smosh fanfiction #smosh fic #smosh smut

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cillianmesoftlyyy · 5 months

Text

The Experiment Pt. 1 | Jonathan Crane x Reader

Summary| Jonathan Crane assigns his students a new experimental project: choose a phobia and research methods for coping with or completely overcoming those fears in test subjects. A student approaches Dr. Crane with an interesting project proposition... can he help her overcome her fear?

Warnings| Teacher x student relationship (both are consenting adults), Borderline sexual assault between a bf and gf, Erotophobia, Smutty stuff yk , Masturbation, P in V penetration, Teasing, Semi-public, Unprotected sex, Begging, Experiments. Extensive discussions of sex and intimacy.

"Oh My God"- Ida Maria 🎵

"Lazy Eye"- Silversun Pickups 🎶

"Romantic Lover" Eyedress 🎵

Word count: 3375k

Minors do not interact!!

.............................................................................................................

He leaned back on the desk behind him, his hands flat against the surface and his suit coat spread like grayish wings against his arms. Dr. Crane looked between his students, landing on a female student, squinting against the projector’s harsh glare in his eyes. She looked back from her seat near the back of the lecture hall, a small twist forming between her eyebrows as she read the text on the screen just above his head.

“I expect this won’t be much of a surprise to most of you, considering we’ve been working towards this for the greater part of the semester.” He watched the dozens of eyes in his hall blink rapidly in response and swallowed his distaste.

“Remember that I study phobias- fear- and from the looks on some of your faces, it appears quite a few of you are afraid.” He chuckled darkly and changed the slide, the light flickered against the students’ faces.

“Choose a phobia, research it, and develop methods of coping or even ways to overcome this phobia. You should have a test subject and a complete study, all of which should be straightforward considering the work you’ve done with me in the past weeks. The research paper you turn in will account for 30% of your final grade. Take this seriously. These are your instructions. Other questions can be directed to the syllabus. Only come to me if you have specific concerns regarding the experiment- I’m doing research of my own and don’t have time to meet with all of you.” He swallowed, scanning the class again and landing on the girl from before.

Faye Greyson, why is it that her papers are so well written but she contributes nothing to class discussions? She seemed so pathetic sitting up there on the back row with her big doe eyes caught in the headlights of his lectures…he thought briefly and let it slide from his head as he dismissed the class. The college students around him fled from the room, talking quietly to one another as they scrambled out of the room. The girl came down the steps and brushed past him gently. She smelled like generic soap and rose water. He wrinkled his nose slightly, breathing her in.

“Sorry, professor.” She apologized kindly with a smile that showed too much of her pink gums.

“Watch it.” He muttered beneath his breath, giving the back of her head a dark glare and turning to pack up his briefcase. He took the rail to his lab on the north side of town, a book open across his lap. He fingered page 16, running his index against the straight edge of the paper and turning it quickly as he read. The doors opened at one of the stops and he glanced up briefly, fixing the horn-rimmed glasses on his face. He rolled his eyes when we saw Faye board the train from the yellowed platform, hand in hand with another student from his class. One of the boys that took the class because they were naturally gifted but did nothing besides attend some classes and depend on their smarts to barely pass. He would have some harsh realities to face by the end of the semester when he saw his final grade, Crane would make sure of that.

He hated seeing students outside of class, it prompted them to speak to him when he’d rather both parties pretend they didn’t know each other. To be fair, they really didn’t know each other. Crane didn’t find his students very interesting so he wasn’t concerned with getting to know them. The only aspect he could muster some ounce of thoughtful contemplation for was their phobia projects, where he theorized, they would all most likely choose their own phobias. Knowing their phobias was about as interesting as their lives could get for him. Besides that, he could care less.

The train was full so the girl held onto one of the rubber handles suspended from the ceiling, but because she was so short, she had to stand on her tiptoes to fully grasp the handle, her knuckles turned white in her grip. The boy… maybe Jason White (Crane couldn’t remember exactly) took one of the ceiling bars easily and slipped his arm around the girl’s waist. Their puffy coats slid against one another as they swayed in the fastly moving train car. The boy's hand left her waist and traveled up, somewhat discreetly, to one of her breasts. With her free hand, she swatted him away but he persisted, thinking that it was a game. Faye happened to glance over in Crane’s direction and recognizing him immediately, turned bright red. The boy’s hand slid over her hardened nipple visible through her pink jersey turtleneck. She tried to cover her chest with her arm but as the train shuttered in speed, she had to stabilize herself with her free hand against a plastic partitioner. Crane cleared his throat distastefully and returned to his book.

For some, the absence of fear is a greater disaster than fear itself. To fear nothing is to have no conception of danger, empathy, pain, or love. Do sociopaths fear? Some scientists have sought to answer this question but the evidence is inconclusive on the subject, though it is nearly unanimous among the scientific community that fear is essential to survival and companionship. It is the primal root of our existence and should be a present factor in every major part of our lives. It is how we make connections with others and how we protect ourselves and our own. For sociopaths who may not fear, they lack a basic foundation of complexity that supports an emotionally ‘typical’ person. They lack love, understanding, and hope because they do not feel the fear of potential loss, misunderstanding, and dread in the same situation.

“Stop it, Jason.” The girl whispered harshly to the boy.

“No one’s looking.” He whispered back and kissed her neck, the sound causing a wave of communal discomfort amongst the rail riders.

“Perhaps not but we can still hear.” Crane muttered beneath his breath and raised his eyes to the young couple. The girl looked to be on the verge of tears, her face so pink it nearly matched the hue of her shirt. Crane noticed the small curvature of her breasts still showing through the fabric.

“Damn the cold.” Faye whispered and covered her chest with her arm with embarrassment and Jason laughed condescendingly.

“Don’t go blaming that on the cold….” Jason cornered her against the wall of the rail which Crane assumed would have been attractive to someone who wasn’t standing uncomfortably on a moving public train.

“Can we at least just wait till we get off? I don’t…” She trailed off, making eye contact with the professor who was now thoroughly annoyed. Jason looked over too, finally seeing Crane across the doors.

“Hello Mr. White.” Crane hissed, showing his deepest displeasure at having to step in for the sake of every passenger on the train.

“Professor.” Jason responded nervously.

“Miss Greyson.” He nodded in her direction.

“Professor.” She whispered back in a weak mew of a voice.

Crane stood, slid his book back into his briefcase, and clicked it shut. The doors opened at his stop and he turned around casually saying, ''behave yourselves,” to the two students and stepped down onto the platform. The doors closed behind him. He turned to face the windows cut into the doors, making eye contact with the girl, now visibly crying, overwhelmed and embarrassed. He tipped his head to the side, watching her, and raised an eyebrow as she looked up and met his clear blue eyes. The train shot away from the platform, sailing against the New York City skyline.

“Hmm,” Crane hummed to himself and walked away, pursuing his chapped lips to whistle a low note.

——-——

His class met twice a week on Tuesdays and Thursdays in the evening. He commuted to work, taking a train to the college in the morning and working through the day until he could commute back to his lab and then to his small apartment where he slept most nights when he didn’t fall asleep on his pages of research and diagrams.

Last night was one of those nights, so he wasn’t in a good mood as he boarded a later train than he usually took for his evening lecture. The train’s wheels squealed as they stopped in the station outside NYU. Crane hurried off and squeezed through the mess of people lining the subterranean station. He walked quickly through the station and raced up the stairs to the street level. He was met by the familiar sound of taxis whizzing by and the annoying laughter of students as they passed on their way to classes and dorms.

He went straight to his corner office and put coffee on, relaxing as the smell of the brewing grounds filled his small office. He scanned his lecture notes on a pad of manilla paper and with a red pen, scribbled additional thoughts in the rigid margins. The coffee maker sputtered to a stop, steaming up the window just behind it. Crane pushed away from his desk and filled a small cup with the hot coffee. As he placed it on his desk, a hesitant knock sounded at the door. He checked his Rolex and muttered beneath his breath.

“Shit. What the fuck is it now?” He gritted his teeth, “come in!”

His office door opened slowly and a girl stepped inside the room. Faye Greyson wringing her small hands, took a step toward his desk.

“Good evening, Professor.” She greeted him quietly. Her nose and the tops of her ears were tinged with red.

“Miss Greyson, what is it?” He sat back at his desk and cleared his throat.

“Well, I just…” She trailed off pathetically and wrapped her arms around herself. She was wearing a light blue turtleneck this time with dark blue boot-cut jeans. They were low rise and showed the small pouch of her stomach that surrounded her bellybutton.

He waited for her to finish her sentence but as the seconds dragged on, he sighed.

“Would you like some coffee?” He asked with a hint of unkindness.

“Yes, actually. Thank you.” The girl pulled the chair on the other side of the desk back and sat down, dropping her bookbag on the floor beside her. Crane took a second cup and poured her some coffee. She took it carefully and accidentally brushed her thumb against his. She muttered an apology.

“Why are you here?” Crane asked plainly, removing his glasses and wiping them with a small cloth.

“I just… well I just wanted…” she started again.

“Yes I know, you said that before.” He chuckled darkly and pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, losing his patience.

“Right. I just wanted to apologize for the other night, Dr. Crane.” She said finally, exhaling between her lips sharply.

“Apologize for what?” Crane furrowed his eyebrows and blew on his steaming coffee, trying to remain patient with his student.

“For what you saw on the train.” She cupped her hands around the mug, her eyes held tightly to the adjacent wall, refusing to meet his.

“Ah.” He sat back in his chair. “I’d forgotten about it but I still don’t see why you need to apologize. You’re an adult, Miss Greyson. What you do in your personal life doesn’t interest me in the slightest.” He shuffled through his papers again, searching for the scans he had prepped.

“I’m glad that you see it that way, sir. Why I felt like I needed to apologize for was the whole scene we caused and how you felt responsible to say something when he wouldn’t… stop. So, maybe what I’m trying to do is thank you?” Her voice ended at an odd nasally pitch.

“Thank me? For what? For telling you and your boyfriend to behave yourselves?” He was getting more and more confused as to why she was in his office talking to him about a train ride that he had almost forgotten about. He checked his watch again and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear.

“Yes, because he stopped after that, so thank you.” She crossed and uncrossed her legs and he could smell that familiar scent of rose water permeating the air inside his office.

“Alright, you’re welcome.” Crane exhaled tightly and cleared his throat when she didn’t stand or say anything else. “Is there something else?” She nodded and blushed deeper, shifting in her chair. His jaw clenched and his palms were sweaty. Out with it, he wanted to growl. His lecture started in an hour and at this rate, they would both be late.

“I broke up with him.” She said finally as a tear rolled down her face, gliding along the shallow cliff of her cheekbone. He said nothing, restraining himself from saying anything at that point. She sniffled and hiccuped pitifully. He pitched his eyebrows together with his index and thumb, placing his glasses on the desk between them.

“Why?” He asked finally.

“Because I was scared of him.” The girl answered, crying softly and playing with her hands in her lap. She looked up at him with wide eyes, red and faintly smudged. His body subconsciously perked up at the mention of fear and he leaned forward on his elbows, his dress jacket’s elbow patches grinding against the wood surface.

“Well it wasn’t that I was scared of him but rather what I felt like I’d have to do with him.” She wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. Crane took a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it begrudgingly. She took it and blotted her nose where snot was leaking down onto her upper lip. He felt a fixture of disgust and surprise arousal. Her long eyelashes stuck together with sticky tears and she but her lip to keep from crying.

“I’m not sure I follow you.” He pushed his glasses up farther. He lifted his cup of coffee to his lips and drank deeply.

“I was scared of having sex with him.” She hid her face behind her shaky hand, the white handkerchief wavered in the movement. Crane swallowed loudly and set the cup down, clearing his throat.

“Well…” He traced his mouth with the edge of his thumb, reaching for words to respond with.

“It's erotophobia.” She added and hiccuped.

“Fear of intimacy, interesting.” He scanned his bookshelf for a moment. “Why are you telling me this?” He sighed and rearranged himself in his chair.

“I want to do my project on erotophobia,” she took a slow sip from her cup of coffee and took a deep breath, “and I want to be the subject too.” She glanced up, testing the durability of their eye contact. He didn’t look away, he was fascinated.

“I don’t know about that, Miss Greyson.” He answered smoothly and collected his papers into a neat pile, clamping a large binder clip around the papers. He stood and took one last sip of coffee, still looking down at the girl below.

“I’ve been looking for subjects since I saw this on the syllabus a month ago. There aren’t any, Professor.” She said timidly, sounding almost exhausted.

“That’s impossible, we live in New York City. You must have been able to find someone!" He laughed and collected his things into his arms.

“And yet,” she stood and clasped a hand around her opposite arm, “I can’t find anyone. To be fair, this sort of thing isn’t easy to find in the population. Other people in the class will choose their own phobias, why can’t I do mine?” She turned as Crane stepped around his desk and went to his office door.

“This is a very special situation, Miss Greyson. While I find your project topic surprisingly thought provoking, it’s…” He struggled to find an adjective.

“Inappropriate?” She offered, lowering her head.

“Perhaps but I don’t really care. I just worry that by you conducting the experiment and being the subject, you are jeopardizing the entire outcome of your research. It's unorthodox to say the least.” He opened the door and stepped out. The girl grabbed her bookbag and followed, standing off to the side while he locked his office door.

“Yes, I know sir.”

He walked quickly and she followed, matching his stride even with her shorter legs in tow. At the door of the lecture hall, Crane stopped.

“We can talk about this later,” he nodded down at the girl and went straight to his desk on the elevated platform. She smiled shyly and climbed the stairs to the middle section of seats and sat, closer to the front that she had been before. Crane saw the old boyfriend in the same seat as before, chewing on the end of a wooden pencil. Exhaling, Crane dropped his briefcase on his desk and began to unpack the papers he needed for the lecture.

________

After he dismissed class, he repacked his things and snapped his case shut, the sound echoing around him in the large room. The girl waited just behind him, he could feel her presence like an unseen bug hovering out of reach.

“I-” Faye started but Crane spun around, interrupting her.

“Have you tried masturbation?” He crossed his arms across his chest and sat on the desk. His student blushed and laughed nervously.

“See this is why I worry about you jeopardizing your own experiment. I asked you about masturbation, will your subject try masterbating to approach correcting her fear of sex?” He inclined his head in her direction.

“Yes, she’s tried it, Professor.” She responded short of breath.

“And it hasn’t helped?” He furrowed his brow.

“Not exactly.”

He licked his lips quickly and brushed a hand across his mouth. “And uh, what does the subject think about while she masterbates?” He watched her shift uncomfortably between her feet and bit her lip.

“I don’t know.”

“Hmmm.” Crane hummed and stood up from the desk. He stepped down from the platform and stopped right in front of the girl. She looked up at him, her eyes wet and heavy with color. She took a step back prompting a quiet tittering from her teacher who stopped her.

“Ah, ah.” He closed the distance between them, not touching her but getting close enough to smell the residue of generic soap caught on the goosebumps of her skin.

Crane leaned in, his wide lips brushing her earlobe as he spoke, “does your subject watch pornography?” Her skin warmed beneath his lips.

“No.” Her breath hitched and Crane could physically feel her discomfort at his intimate proximity, the rush of blood to her…

“Has she ever had sex?” He whispered, allowing his lips to rest on the ridges of her small ear. She shivered.

“No.”

He pulled away. The girl exhaled and looked up to the ceiling. With strong, angular fingers, Crane pulled her chin down to face slightly so that he could see her eyes. They glistened with inklings of fear- fear.

“Then that’s what it is.” He muttered more to himself than to Faye, smiling.

“What?” She asked, tears forming in the wells of her eyes.

“It’s the physical aspect of it, isn’t it? Having to touch someone, be touched… outside of your imagination?” He crossed his arms across his chest proudly. A few moments of silence passed between them, each watching the other in contemplative stillness, charged with suggestive energy.

“Yes.” She whispered finally and ran one of her hands up the buttons of her professor’s shirt to his neck. She went to kiss him but he stepped away and chuckled roughly.

“No, no Miss Greyson. Think of the experiment.” He chided and turned her chin gently away, trailing his hands down a tendon in her neck.

“Tell your subject to try masturbation and pornography. See where it takes her.” He took his briefcase and pushed past her, leaving a residue of rich cologne in the air around her.

---------

end of part 1 :)

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #dc scarecrow #Dr. Crane #Professor Jonathan Crane #smut #jonathan crane smut #hot scarecrow

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angelyuji · 8 months

Text

professor miguel o'hara headcanons :)

miguel o'hara x gender neutral reader

+ yandere headcanons!!!!

professor miguel o’hara would be so OFUAN:EOAFIDNWFBOWE”NJP sorry im just feral for him

professor o’hara would actually be the worst professor to get tbh like he’s a strict grader, he’s super anal about late turn-ins, all that jazz. like he’s got a shit ratemyprofessor rating… he’s the worst. he’s not the type to insult you or make you feel like shit for getting questions wrong or failing an exam HOWEVER he does say that if you fail an exam, just drop out cuz you’re not passing yeahhh he sucks lol

also he has a p.h.d in genetics and genomic sciences (totally didn’t just search up what the major is called and pasted it on here… definitely not) so he’s a huge stickler on being called doctor o’hara

however, when you mess up and say professor, he doesn’t seem to mind it all that much

professor o’hara who obviously has favorites (based on who participates more/does the best on exams)

Miguel would send students that come to him for help to students that do really well in the class (he does not care to reteach or help with essays) “you should’ve paid attention when i was explaining. im sure one of your classmates like (y/n) can help.”

motorcycle professor, office hours are always open for questions or concerns, he’s honestly chill just super strict and mean-looking

however no matter what, every single bitch has a crush on him… have you SEEEEEN him. yall know that scene in criminal minds when spencer reid is teaching a class and basically the entire class was auditing the class becuz he’s hot… yeah that except miguel o’hara is a lot meaner about chasing those people out.

yandere :0

:IBFP(I)IU*Y&^&TFRTCVGBHIK\

sorry

lemme set the scene, ur one of the smartest of your class, you’re his favorite student like ur pretty, smart, and kind to your classmate and honestly…. he was downright obsessed like mf knows ur entire class schedule, he knows ur address ur number ur email. e v e r y t h i n g

ur kindness to your classmates is gonna be ur downfall, someone (who is known to be a cheater) is gonna go to him asking for help on a project. miguel is gonna be like “lol im not helping u but yk who will? (y/n).” miguel knows that your classmate is gonna cheat, but that’s a part of the plan

they go up to you, ask to see ur project and when ur not looking, take pictures of ur research and everything. you won’t know a thing becuz ur a nice friend :)

you’ll just turn in ur stuff and chill. the next class after the due date, professor o’hara asks you to stay after class.

“(y/n), it looks like you and another classmate have almost exact project.” miguel turns his screen towards you, showing your project and your classmates

“what? dr. o’hara, i don’t know what’s going on, but i promise you, i didn’t cheat off of anyone.” you beg.

“i’m sure that we can get to the bottom of this, (y/n)…” miguel pretends to think for a second. “how about this, come to my office around 6. i think i’ll be done with classes for the day. we’ll have a chat.” he stands, rearranging his papers.

“of course. i’ll be there!” you thank him and rush out to meet your friends, holding back tears.

i mean, of course you’ll go to see your professor. you’ve been accused of plagiarism and that shit can get you expelled.

you knock on the door. “dr. o’hara?”

“come in.” you walk in, anxious to get the situation resolved. you see your professor sitting at his desk, but you don’t see your classmate.

“i thought the other person would here too…” you feel a weird sense of dread fill in your stomach.

“ms. (l/n), i don’t think we need them here for this discussion.” he motions for you to sit down at the chair. “plagiarism is a very serious offence.”

“professor, you can’t seriously believe that i copied off of them!” you’ve got the best grades in the class, you feel flabbergasted.

“ms. (l/n)!” he frowns.

you lower your head, ashamed, “i’m sorry, it’s just. they came up to me, asking for help…”

“i understand, (y/n), but do you have any physical proof of that?” you stay silent. “i can… find a way to help you, but… you’re gonna have to do something for me, (y/n).” miguel leans in and you feel that dread in your stomach worsen, but you have no other choice.

“of course, professor! anything!”

eDTRUTYGYH*(J)(_)_JIHUUGYFR^%&T*Y(UOIJL

he’s gonna take advantage of your situation. at first, it’ll be like secret dates, small (expensive) gifts at your door, then it moves up.

soon, he’s making you come to his home, making you stay overnight….

it was raining when you had went over and the rain was getting worse. his house was in the middle of a neighborhood in the woods, everything about this situation was grossing you out. “dr. o’hara, i don’t-” you, hesitantly, walk through the doors into his home.

“miguel. i’ve told you, (y/n). you should call me miguel when we’re alone.” he smiles at you and locks the door behind you.

“right… miguel, i don’t think that this is appropriate.” you look around his home. it was quaint, clean… almost like it wasn’t even lived in. you would’ve thought it was a random rental if it wasn’t for his diplomas framed on the wall.

“(y/n), do i need to remind you of our deal?” he looks at you, and for the first time since this situation started, you felt afraid. miguel disappears into the kitchen and you decide to step back closer to the front door, itching to run. “(y/n),” he pops his head out and smiles, “take a seat at the dining table.” you see fangs in his mouth and your fear grows.

dinner goes by uneventfully, but you feel uneasy as miguel chats it up with you. he had been too… nonchalant about the arrangement, but this was a new development. he wouldn’t ask you questions about yourself, but he somehow knew everything about you. it creeped you out. “if dinner is over, i should go home.” you stand, pushing back your chair.

he grabs your hand, “there’s no need to rush, (y/n)… unless,” he lets go and leans back in his chair, thinking. you freeze. “if you want to leave, i can always go to the board and tell them about your essay.” miguel shrugs and gets up.

“no! no… i’m sorry, doctor- sorry, miguel, i’m not leaving.” you sit back down.

miguel laughs, straightening, “you’re so cute, sweetheart. i’ll go get dessert.” he steps back into the kitchen. you grab your phone and text your roommate asking for help, but they don’t respond. miguel walks out with two plates of cheesecake. he continues to talk to you, asking about your classes for next semester. you gingerly answer his questions and eat, eager to finish and go home. you look behind miguel’s head and notice that the rain had gotten worse. if you didn’t leave now, you’d get stuck here.

“i should get going then.” you carefully place the fork down. “the rain is getting pretty bad.” miguel turns to look and you check your phone. still no response. miguel hums as the rain pelts the ground. he looks back at you.

“any minute now.” he doesn’t say anything else.

“ha, yeah. it’ll get worse any minute now.” you repeat and stand up. all of a sudden, your head spins. you stumble and grab your chair. immediately miguel is at your side, helping you steady. your head won’t stop spinning and you hear your words slurring, “fuck, i don’t feel good.” miguel picks you up with ease, holding you bridal-style. “put me down, please, miguel. i need to go home.” you feel yourself lose consciousness and lay your head against miguel’s chest, too tired and dizzy to fight.

“everything is okay, (y/n). all you need is me.” the last thing you feel as miguel whispers in your ear, is a kiss against your forehead.

304 notes · View notes

sheeple · 1 year

Text

Unconditional

GIF NOT MINE. THIS IS ALL FICTION. Genre(s): Modern!au / College/Uni!au / Mob!au / Chubby!Aegon Fandom(s): House of the Dragon (TV show) Pairing(s): Aegon Targaryen x fem!reader Summary: When Helaena's 'friend' suddenly comes into the picture, something about her draws Aegon in. Even when signs point to run as far, far away as he can. Warning(s): Ooc Aegon? He's a poor little insucure Meow Meow / Mob-related violence / Name calling (positive?) / Aegon has mommy issues but we already knew that / overprotective Aemond / whiney Aeg / slight Sub!Aeg / Smut? P in V (only brief) / unprotected devil’s tango [Masterlist] [Moodboard] [Teaser] [Playlist] [Instagram profiles]

Aegon is cold, wet, and overall grumpy. He missed breakfast this morning because he slept in, all thanks to his hangover. "When is this friend of yours supposed to come, Hel?"

Both Helaena and Aemond roll their eyes annoyed. They have been standing outside waiting for five minutes while it slowly started to rain. Aemond told him to bring a jacket or umbrella, but Aegon just laughed and said umbrellas are for wimps.

Aemond looks down at his older brother with a smug grin as he angles his black umbrella so that droplets fall on Aegon's head.

At that moment, a flashy sports car comes speeding around the corner and stops in front of their feet. A window rolls down and loud phonk music pours out.

A woman ─ you ─ leans over and smiles widely at Helaena, "hey, sugar tits. You wanna have a good time?"

Both the Targaryen boys' eyes grow wide. How dare someone talk like that to their sister? Aemond is ready to throw some fists but is stopped by Helaena giggling in glee.

She opens the car door and falls on the seat with a smile. "Do you even know what a good time is slut?"

Unsurely, the two brothers also get in the car and before they are buckled in, the car speeds away.

While Helaena grabs your phone and changes the music, Aegon studies you through the mirror. A careless smile adores your face as his sister switches the music to something more to her taste, eyes flicking between the road and the girl next to you.

Aemond is the first of the brothers to speak up. "How do you two... know each other." He raises an eyebrow as he looks sceptically at you.

You make eye contact with Aemond's single eye. "We took the same class in our first year before I─"

The loud grumbling of Aegon's stomach interrupts your sentence, making you look at him through the rearview mirror.

"Sorry", mumbles Aegon in embarrassment. His cheeks colour bright red as he lays a hand on his belly.

"Are you okay, Darling?"

The concern surprises the white-haired man. He has never met a person who ─ immediately after meeting someone ─ shows so much concern. Not even his mother does it, and she's been 'caring' for him for almost twenty-six years.

Aegon shakes his head. "N-no... I just haven't eaten yet."

A frown grows on your face. "You have to eat well, Darling. Do you need me to stop somewhere? There is a Taco Bell not far from here."

The three Targaryen siblings are baffled. Helaena is used to you wanting to take care of everybody around you, but this is new. Never in the years she knows you has she seen you immediately being so... you to anyone so quickly.

While Aegon sputters and stumbles over his words, claiming that he's okay, he has a pizza in the fridge waiting for him, Aemond's eye darkens. Something's off about you. He knows that. And it's not for the fact that you're kind to his brother.

It's for the fact that your knuckles have bandages messily taped over them, blood seeping through the gauze on the inside. Is that why you were late?

Your eyes meet Aemond's single on accident through the rearview mirror and you cock your head to the side. What's his problem? Ever since he set foot in your car, you have felt his glare on the back of your head.

You turn your attention back to Helaena, who's telling a story about that one asshole professor the both of you had in the first year. And how he hasn't changed in all those years.

"He then turns to this girl who sits in the front row and says: 'that means that one of your ancestors was a bastard from Dorne, seeing as your last name is Sand'. I swear this girl would burst out in tears the way he said." Helaena angrily folds her arms over each other with a huff.

You shake your head. "Prof Rys never had chill. I bet he is a bastard himself or something, the way he acts about them."

Before Helaena can retort back, Aemond buts in.

"What do you do, exactly?", he snarks, "if you're not going to uni, what do you do?"

"Aemond!", scolds Helaena, turning around and whacking him on his head.

You laugh, "it's okay, Len. I own multiple clubs, bars, and pubs all around the country."

"And for that, you need bruised knuckles?" Aemond challenges you. You know that. He is searching for more, for something behind the curtain.

The cat gets filled with awkward tention while Helaena throws daggars at her brother.

"Oh would you look at that", you say in faux surprise, stopping in front of their building. "Look's like you're home." Your smile drops and you glower coldly at the youngest Targaryen sibling.

Aemond practically kicks the door open and scowls inside the building, his hands in his pockets. Helaena apologises to you embarrassed.

"It's okay, love. He clearly hasn't had his day. We text?"

"We text." She squeezes your hand before getting out.

You roll down the passenger's window and smile at Aegon, who stands behind his sister. "Remember to eat, yeah darling?" He nods meekly, wetting his lips.

Winking at the siblings, you close the window and speed off. You've got a text from Harwin saying the scumbag talked. You wonder if it was before or after breaking his kneecaps.

That night, Aegon lays on his back, staring at the ceiling while his mind is on you. There is something so... mesmerizing about you. If it is the way your hair falls, how your eyes shined when you talked to him, or how you carelessly smiled with Helaena, he doesn't know.

A smile grows on his face as he turns around, fist gripping one of the many extra pillows on his bed. Oh, how he wishes he can see you again soon.

A couple days later Aegon sees his sister standing in the doorway of her room, checking out her outfit from afar. "How do I look?", she asks as she spots Aegon through the mirror.

"Like a pigeon."

Helaena rolls her eyes. As usual, very helpful.

"Where are you going?" Aegon follows her around the room with his eyes while she searches for a pair of high heels and a bag.

"Y/n has invited me to hang around the VIP section of The Graveyard."

A sudden flutter goes through his body and stops in Aegon's stomach, buzzing around like a kid on a sugar high. "Y/n?"

"I rather have the two of you not go out tonight", grumbles Aemond from the hallway and turns his phone around for them to read.

THE STRANGER STRIKES AGAIN. DIRTY POLITICIAN FOUND DEAD.

Helaena dry heaves as Aegon stares in disgust at the photo the article has provided of the politician. All his fingers are cut off and stuffed in his mouth. The word RAT is carved in his forehead in big, bold letters while his mouth is sewn shut. The article states that The Stranger has published multiple documents online exposing the politician, who has stolen millions from the sick and poor.

Many, many years ago, during medieval times The Seven were worshipped as Gods. Through the years, they turned into mob and mafia bosses but all fall under The Father. He is the most powerful, from money to influence. People have suspicions that it is a politician or judge.

The Mother has the pharmaceutical industry in her pockets, as well as almost all the hospitals and clinics in the country. The Warrior owns the totality of the armies and all the cops.

Most, if not all, real estate is from The Smith. Most of the projects in development get money from him. The Maiden, for not that long, has ownership over the sex work. It's said since she has taken hold of the industry it has gotten a lot safer for those who work in brothels and clubs.

The Crone keeps the cultural aspect of society alive. She makes sure that libraries, concert halls, and theatres keep their doors open and that people can learn and grow.

At last, is The Stranger. They have no 'official' business, but rather they are the executioner of The Seven. They make people disappear, get information out of someone with rather... interesting methods, or silence them.

To everybody in Westeros, this is common knowledge. Everyone also knows that they shouldn't mess with The Seven. The politician is a perfect example. What isn't known, is who those people are. Speculations are that for hundreds of years, the same families carry those titles, passed from parent to child.

Helaena ignores Aemond and continues to get dressed. "Nothing's gonna happen, Aem. It's least likely that The Stranger is going to strike again. And besides, I'm with Y/n."

Aemond pinches his nose bridge, sighing extravagantly. "That is exactly what I'm worried about. I don't trust her."

Aegon turns angrily to his brother. How dare he say that? He has only met you once and he already is so sure about his opinion of you.

"I don't care", she dares him, "I'm still going. And Aegon is going with me, aren't you?" His sister turns to him and looks with big eyes, motioning him to do as she says.

Aegon, all too glad to see you again, tries to contain his excitement with a short nod. "Yeah, since I have nothing better to do, I thought I would come with."

The tallest Targaryen sibling angrily huffs and turns around, stomping off.

"Are you ready to go? the Uber is almost here... You're not wearing that, are you?" Helaena fixes the last of her makeup in the mirror before looking at him with raised eyebrows.

Aegon looks down at his clothes ─ a pair of sweatpants and an old shirt with holes. He hurries to his room and has a small crisis about what to wear. He knows what looks good on him. He knows what will get him girls to hook up with. But with you, he's not sure. For one, he does not want to just hook up with you.

Even though you're his sister's age, you are a woman. One who has lived in the real world for a while now. You're probably not interested in boys. Because that is what Aegon is; a college-aged boy.

He's reminded of the fact when he walks into the Graveyard and sees you perched on a barstool in a black dress with a leg slit and your red-painted lips drawn into a teasing smile. You're entertaining a man with shoulder-length hair. Aegon can't see who it is since his back is turned towards him. But the man is broad and he for sure could break bones with ease.

Helaena wildly waves with her hands above her head and it gets your attention. The smile grows to that one of glee as you hop off the stool, making your way over to them.

Hugging Helaena, you close your eyes. "It's so good to see you! You look absolutely stunning!" You make Helaena do a twirl.

"You too! I am obsessed with this dress, oh my Gods! I hope you don't mind that Aegon came with? I texted you before we left."

Pulling your phone out of your bra, you check the messages that you missed. With a nod, you put the device back. "Oh yeah, I see... I had a meeting, so I put it on silent. Do you guys want anything to drink?"

You lead them up a pair of stairs that are closed off by a velvet rope and security opens it for you and them to pass through.

As you all settle in the booth, you turn to the sibling pair. "It's 2000's night, so expect a lot of Timberland, Sean Paul, and Christina Aguilera."

You feel a hand on your shoulder and turn your head. Harwin. He looks at you in earnest before motioning for you to follow him with a nod.

"If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll be right back." You meet Aegon's eyes and smile at him. You stand up and squeeze his underarm.

Harwin leads you to your office and you close the door behind you. He stands in the middle of the room, his fists balled and his lips tight. "How do you know them?"

You raise your eyebrows. "Who? Helaena and Aegon? What is it to you?" Walking towards your desk, you lean against it.

"They... they're-" Harwin sighs, running a hand over his face. "They are no good. Helaena is the best of the lot, but Aegon and Aemond... You need to stay away from them."

Pushing off the desk, you go stand in front of him, tilting your head up so you can look him in the eyes. "How do you know that?"

Harwin hesitates for a moment, searching for the right words. "My wife's their half-sister. Her father re-married and out came them. There is also another one, but he's in Oldtown. They're all spoiled brats!"

With a deep inhale, you try to put all the information in the right order. So... Harwin's in-laws are the age of his own children? But they're all biologically connected? What in the world...

"And what is so wrong about Aegon? He seems quite lovely."

The man grabs both of your hands in a fatherly matter, a sorry look on his face. "Don't do this to yourself. I know that look, it was the same one your father had in his eyes after meeting our mother."

Before you can protest, he hushes you. "He's a boy, Y/n. He parties until he almost has alcohol poisoning, sleeps around with no regard for their feelings, and loves getting in trouble."

Pulling your hands back, your face hardens. "I get that you and your family have their judgements about them, but Helaena's been nothing but a good friend to me so I won't let you talk about her brother like that. You are not my father, Harwin. He's dead and I've been taking care of myself for all these years, so I don't need you to start doing that now."

You turn around and walk briskly out of the office, leaving your second-hand man in the middle of the room.

How dares he? You get that he wants to look out for you, but he's out of line. You can judge for your own if Aegon is truly what Harwin says he is. You don't need his prejudice to swarm your judgement.

Besides, you know that you can't take this too far. Aegon is an innocent civillian. You can't pull him into your world without being sure he's one hundred per cent okay and ready to face it. It's all innocent fun, right?

You take a deep breath before you go sit back in the booth where you left Helaena and Aegon. Only Helaena is gone and has left Aegon on his own. He looks up from his phone with big eyes, but a smile grows on his face once he sees it's you.

"Where's Hel?", your question, looking around to maybe spot her.

Aegon puts his phone in his pocket, focusing on your face. "She went to grab something to drink but she got distracted and is dancing. Look, right there." He points towards the crowd, but when he notices you're looking to the wrong side, Aegon grabs your hand and guides your pointer finger to where his sister is twirling around.

You laugh out loud at the sight of Helaena totally minding her own business, oblivious to the many stares she's getting.

"Do you also want to dance?" You turn to face Aegon. What you didn't realise is while Aegon helped you to point to Helaena, your faces are practically next to each other. Now that you turned your head, your noses almost touched.

Aegon's cheeks turn a violent prink as he doesn't know what to do. Normally he would have taken the chance to kiss the girl, but he doesn't dare to do that to you. You're far too beautiful to just kiss so carelessly.

You don't wait for his reply and just pull Aegon to the dance floor. At first, he's awkward and doesn't know what to do. You grab his hands and place them on your middle.

"I love this part", you say as the music slows down. Your lips are touching his ear shell. Was it a seducing technique? Who knows.

Aegon feels that the time, like the song, slows down as he watches you dance with your eyes closed and smile. The multiple coloured lights dance over your face and give you an ethereal glow.

His hands on your waist tighten their grip and pull you flush against his body. Your eyes open and watch how he smiles much more confidently than all the times before. It widens your own and you two sway from side to side together, feeling the music.

Aegon twirls you around, and it earns a giggle from you. "Where is this sudden confidence comming from?", you ask as you lay both of your hands on his chest. You feel his heart beat rapidly under your right hand and it tells you that he's maybe not as confident as he looks. "It's cute."

"Is it good cute or bad cute?" He cocks his head to the side, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip.

You pretend to think for a moment. "It's cute."

Aegon smiles amused, you're flirting with him. He's at a loss for words, so he's saying the first thing that comes across his brain. "Ha- have I already told you how beautiful you look?"

There is something so endearing about Aegon, you decide then and there. He gets a spurt of confidence but then he just forgets it. So suddenly. He eyes you shyly through his lashes all while putting on the most blinding and radiating smile you've ever seen.

You spend hours dancing together, him twirling you around and jumping up and down. You don't even notice your heels are killing you until you take a moment to sit back down and drink something.

Groaning, you slip out of your shoes and pull your feet up on the seat, so they're not touching the nasty ground. Aegon comes back with two glasses of something and slides next to you. He grabs your feet and pulls you close to him.

And you two just talk. About everything and nothing. Especially life.

"Excuse me, how many times did you say?", you ask baffled.

Aegon grins sheepishly. "Yeah... I'm on my tenth major right now. The uni allows it because dad's a huge benefactor of the school."

You lean back. "So... y'all rich?"

"I-I wouldn't call us ri-rich. We're comfortable..." His cheeks colour a bright red as he stammers out.

A soft smile grows on his face. "It's okay, Aegon. There is nothing wrong with having more money than the average citizen. And also not with not knowing what to do once you hit uni age. Way too early we have to choose what we will do for the rest of our lives, in my opinion at least."

Aegon looks in wonder at the woman who sits next to him. They are almost the same age but she's so much wiser beyond her age.

"Why did you drop out?"

The sudden question surprises you. It also seems to surprise and embarrass Aegon as he shrinks in himself.

"I... dropped out because my father died", you begin, looking at the half-empty glass on the table and how the condensation slowly drips down, "I am- was his only child, so everything came down on me. I knew that I couldn't keep my father's legacy afloat while attending university, so I choose what was the best."

"Was it the best for you?", asks Aegon quietly, reaching for your hand.

You swallow the lump in your throat. "I don't know." It comes out in nearly a whisper, but he has heard it.

Aegon doesn't hesitate for a moment and pulls you in a hug, laying his head on your shoulder.

The hug goes as quickly as it comes, and you push him away. You don't know what to do, so you fake a jawn. "Oh gosh, I'm actually really tired. Do you want me to drop you off at your place?"

Aegon nods, defeated. He knows he has taken it a step too far. What was he thinking?!

You tell him to wait outside as you go seek Helaena. You return alone, telling him that Helaena said she would get back home on her own because she found a couple friends from uni.

The ride back to the Targaryen sibling's apartment is very quiet, apart from the radio playing some pop songs.

"Can I tell you a secret?", you say after a while. "I'm actually quite scared of driving in the dark."

Aegon turns to you with raised eyes. "If you want, I could take over?"

You shake your head. "Thank you, but it's okay. It has quite the irony, believe me. Most of my business is conducted in the dark, with all the clubs and bars and such. I have really bad astigmatism, but wearing glasses in this profession is pretty impractical."

The eldest Targaryen sibling nods, drumming along with the music. He watches the cars pass by, before turning his gaze towards you. He studies your face again, finding new exciting details. And they are the most mundane things. Like how you scan the road, looking ever so often in the rearview mirror.

It's every freckle and mole that adorns your face. Every dimple and scar. The way your nose is shaped. The little peach fuzz that he spots when your profile is lighted from behind.

"I sing."

"Excuse me?"

"I sing and hum when I am scared. When I drive alone, I put on Disney songs to keep my mind at ease." You admit, glancing at Aegon to gauge his reaction.

If there is one flaw you had to name about yourself, it would be your fear to drive in the dark. It's stupid, for a member of The Seven to be scared of driving when the sun is down, but too much bad shit happens at night.

A smile grows on his face. Aegon feels really special that you tell him this. Nobody ever tells him something personal. And he doesn't blame them. Normally he doesn't give a shit about other people.

But you aren't other people. At least not to him.

Nothing else is said for the remainder of the car ride to the Targaryen siblings' residential. And neither Aegon nor you feel the need to say something. A comfortable silence hangs between you two.

You pull up to the building, and Aegon undoes his seatbelt. "Thank you", he says, smiling shyly.

You reach over and kiss him on his cheek. "Have a good night, Darling."

His cheeks grow hot and he stumbles out of the car, waving at you as he fumbles his way inside the building. Once he is in the elevator, he leans against the wall and exhales loudly. He is so fucking in love with you.

Later that night, when Aegon lays in his bed, he stares up at his phone. He feels really bad that he's doing this. But after tonight, he can't stay away from you. So, he decides, he's going to find your Instagram account. He wants to start with searching your name, but there are way too many Y/n's to just do that. Plus, he doesn't know your last name.

Having a eureka moment, Aegon goes to his sister's account. You're sure to come by at some point.

Helaena follows over a million people, so there's no way he could find you in the pile. He does search your name but to no avail. He next tackles his sister's story highlights with her friends. You are sure to come by at one point.

He taps at rapid speed through the photos of his sister with her friends, their cousins and nephews.

He once taps wrong and ends up on Aemond's Insta. Pretentious fucker, only posting 'aesthetic' pictures of himself, himself shirtless, or his stupid piano. Ugh.

Just as he wants to give up, there are you. You and Helaena hang off of each other, big smiles on your faces and a cig in between Hel's fingers. Your account is tagged as stragner. He never could have guessed that.

The content also does not say a lot. Only 9 posts. Travelling photos, dropped coffee, a cute snowman, and embroidery. Huh, thinks Aegon, he would never have considered it. But at the same time isn't so strange to imagine you with an embroidery hoop.

His thumb hovers over the follow button. At the last second, he decides not to. Except he has a big ass thumb and accidentally taps on the button.

Aegon jumps a metre in the air, throwing his phone across his room and hiding under his covers. Stupid stupid STUPID. He and his stupid fat fingers.

From across town, you lay curled up on the couch watching a series you meant to catch up on a while ago when your phone dings next to you.

You pick up your phone and when you see the notification, you're giggling like a little schoolgirl.

[INSTAGRAM] aegs started to follow you

How in the seven hells did he find you? You scroll through his account. The previous smile you had now grows even wider. He posts a lot of pictures of himself ─ not all even pretty but still endearing. A couple of memes pass by and also funny pictures of animals. It's charming.

Without hesitation, you press the Follow back button and throw your phone on the couch next to you, not daring to look if he sends you a dm or something.

Oh, how grateful you are Helaena convinced you to make an Insta account.

That night the both of you go sleeping with big ass smiles on your faces. Your cheeks still hurt the morning you wake up.

[aegs] Hey, idk if this is too forwards, but do you want to hang out some time? [aegs] Totally no pressure if you're too busy or anything

Aegon feels like an idiot. More than he normally is. He has debated the whole night about sending you a dm. You're a busy person who has probably better things to do than text with some guy.

He nearly chokes in his serial when he sees the notification flash by. You replied. You even liked his first message.

[stragner] Of course! Sounds fun [stragner] I am really busy tomorrow and the day after that, tho... But Thursday I'm free!

Thursday... Thursday... Is he free? Aegon checks his calendar to make sure he's one hundred per cent sure he has nothing else. He has classes, but he could ditch that. Wait... you wouldn't like him to do that. So he can't do that.

[aegs] I do have classes, but after I'm fully yours!

Aegon cringes at his own desperation. Even though he feels anxious about your reply.

Meanwhile, you type away, deleting some before deciding to not change anything and just send it.

[stragner] That sounds like a plan. Should I pick you up? I know this very pretty coffee place we could grab a cuppa

Putting your phone in your back pocket, you turn around and put on your game face. Harwin is holding a man up by his hair, his face swollen with bruises and a mix of blood, snot, and tears running down his face.

It was easy to lure the man. Putting your tits in his face while grinning down at him and he didn't see you putting drugs in his morning coffee.

Grabbing a pair of pliers, you approach the man. "I'll ask you one last time, nicely. Where did the shipment go?"

Snorting snot back, the man's bottom lip quivers. "I-I don't know! I did-didn't work that ni-night!"

"WRONG!" You motion for Harwin to hold down his hand and you yank out a nail. The man wails in pain while you study the nail. "You have nine more nails and I have all the time in the world. I will get the truth, even if it means I have to pull out all your toenails."

After the third nail, the man repents. "It was R'hllor! R'hllor stole the shipment!"

Pulling back, you look at the man. "R'hllor?"

He nods desperately. "Y-yes! R'hllor wants to make his way to Westeros! He has multiple politicians and police officers in his pocket!"

"It's such a shame...", you tut, grabbing his chin to lift his gaze to meet your eyes. "Such a shame that the only thing you can spew is old news, honey."

The man thrashes wildly against Harwin's iron grip as you move back to the station with all your tools, only to grab the jerrycan with gasoline.

"Did you know", you begin as you pour the liquid onto the man, "in the olden days, ceremonies held for R'hllor involved fire. It was believed that, when staring into a flame, his followers would receive prophecies. Shall we check if it's true?"

Striking a match, you let it dance in front of your face before you flick it towards the man, the gasoline catching on fire and burning the man in mere seconds.

Harwin hands you a rag so that you can clean your hands, "so R'hllor's trying to expand out of Essos? Bossman won't be happy with this news."

You shrug. "When is he ever happy? Should we tell him before or after he had his breakfast coffee?"

Both of you check your watches. 9:36 AM. "After", you both agree, making your way up the stairs of the basement, letting the man behind ─ still screaming and thrashing as the flames burn away at his skin.

Thursday morning stands Aegon in front of his closet in his underpants, hands on his hips while staring at his clothes. What is date appropriate but doesn't scream desperate? That doesn't scream 'please fuck me'. He's not that desperate... he thinks...

Aemond's head peeks through the crack of Aegon's door, his nose upturned. "Don't forget that Cole is picking us up after school to bring us to mum."

The eldest brother turns his eyes towards his brother. "What? Why?"

"Dinner before the gala, remember dinkwad?" Aemond rolls his singular eye annoyed and slams the door after him.

Fuck... there goes Aegon's plans to woo you. He grabs his phone and quickly sends you a text.

[aegs] I am so sorry but I have to take a rain check on our date. Mum's suddenly expecting us this afternoon🙄

[stragner] Oh... [stragner] No worries tho. Another time?

[aegs] Yes! [aegs] Definitely! [aegs] I promise, scout's honour🤞

Aegon is annoyed. He could have spent his afternoon with you, enjoying time together. But instead, he's at home picking at his food while his mother gushes about Aemond and how great he is doing at school. Barf.

Picking at his food, his attention is pulled towards his mother. "I've had your suit sent to the dry cleaners. I expect you to be on your best behaviour tonight. So no flirting with guests, or eyeing the waiters."

Aegon lifts up one eyebrow annoyed while nodding, his eyes still focussed on his asperges. "I'll be on my best behaviour, mother."

The night has not yet begun and he's already annoyed. And it doesn't help that once he tries on his suit, it barely fits him.

Yes, Aegon knows that he let himself go the past years, but he always used to bounce back. But now, his stomach isn't as flat as it used to be and his sides are softer, rounder.

Helaena passes by his room and hears him huff. She peeks her head inside and sees him mentally struggling with his suit. She quickly goes to her own room and returns with a plastic bag.

Aegon hears a knock and is surprised to see Helaena with a soft smile on her face. "I wanted to give you this on your birthday, but it seems like you need this now."

He hesitantly grabs the bag and pulls out a three-piece suit. It's a nice dark green colour. It looks and feels really expensive. "Thanks, Hel", he says, giving her a genuine smile.

A while later, all dressed and ready, Aegon follows after his family as they walk in fashionably late into the gala event. His father walks next to his mother, heavily relying on his cane. Aemond guides Helaena into the venue and that leaves Aegon to fend for himself.

He miserably stares into his wine glass, looking around the room with a curled-up lip. All these rich people pretend to care about whatever charity is hosting this gala while they just want to flaunt their wealth. It makes him sick. It makes him long for a simpler life, one without

Aegon's eyes scan the room but halt on a figure standing with their back towards him talking with his half-sister and her husband. They are dressed in a simple, floor-length black dress with a slit and sheer red gloves that end just above their elbows.

They throw their hair over their shoulder and Aegon swears his heart stops. It's you. And you have never been more beautiful.

You throw your head back in a laugh and hit Rhaenyra's husband on his shoulder. No... it can't be... Aegon swore he vaguely recognised that man from the club. Since when does Rhaenyra's husband work for you?

Rhaenyra says something and he sees you turn around. As you spot him, a large and genuine smile grows on your face and you excuse yourself.

Aegon nervously straightens out his three-piece suit and does a quick breath check.

"Don't you look like a handsome young man", you muse, reaching out and brush a stray hair out of his face. "The colour suits you well. Why don't you do a spin?"

He awkwardly turns on his heels, and you clasp your hands together. Aegon feels his cheeks heat up. "You look very pretty, Darling. Have they left you behind?

You motion with your head to his sister ─ who sits with their father, happily munching on a piece of cake ─ and his brother and mother ─ who look at you with their lips curled up.

Aegon groans softly, knowing what that means. And yup, as he suspected, his mother hightails over to him and you. Aemond's gaze trained on them like a hawk, a scowl on his face.

"Aegon who... is this?" Allicent does a once over, her eyes travelling up your figure, obviously judging. "Wait... I know you. Don't you work for Harwin Strong?

You hold out your hand for her to shake with a confident smile and introduce yourself. "Actually, Harwin works for me, Mrs Targaryen."

This makes the woman's eyebrows raise in surprise, an unreadable look on her face. "My. Aren't you a bit young to be- what exactly are you?"

A soft 'mom!' comes from Aegon, embarrassed. You grab his hand to let him know it's alright. "I own a security company, ma'am. I had to, unfortunately, take over the family business after my father's untimely passing. But I'm sure you must've already known this, being in-laws and everything." The smile you give Alicent is big and tooth-rottenly kind, in a fake way.

"Well, it was nice talking to you." And with that, his mother turns away to go back to the table to sit next to her son. They angrily whisper to each other. Their glances and glares are quite obvious.

"I'm sorry-", begins Aegon, but you take his face in both of your hands, a worried look in your eyes.

"Are you okay, Honey?"

He nods sheepishly. You haven't called him Honey before, and it sends the butterflies in his stomach bustling.

You sigh, fixing your gloves, and cock your head to the side. "To be honest, I'm pretty much done with all this peacocking. I do have to speak to a handful of people. What do you say? Want to join me before ditching this whole affair?"

You hold out your hand and Aegon takes it excitedly with a nod. You pull him around the room. And while you talk with people — which Aegon does not even have the care for to listen to the topics — you don't let go of him. Every time you have to shake someone's hand, you are sure to grab his arm with your other. Never losing contact.

And as you promised, in no time the two of you are in your car and speeding away from the event.

The way to your house is closer to his own apartment than Aegon thought. You drive the car into the underground parking and park the car in a marked spot with your apartment number.

You lead him to the elevator and scan a card before pressing a button. The doors close and Aegon feels the elevator move up.

The two of you stand next to each other, shoulders touching. Suddenly, you sign frustrated and whisper a ‘fuck it’.

As Aegon wants to turn to you and ask what is wrong, you grab him by his tie and smash your lips against his. The kiss is hungry, full of desperation and want.

Aegon does not know what to do with his hands, holding them up in the air surprised.

You pull away from him, lipstick smutched. Your eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips. With a sigh, you release the tie and take a step back. "I'm sorry. I should have asked." You hang your head down in shame. Damn you for assuming.

Aegon reaches out and pushes your chin up before connecting your lips again. This time in a softer manner. His hand goes from your chin to your cheek, before it ends up on your neck and pulls you flushed against him.

You hum satisfied, gripping his shoulders and lean in even more than you would have thought possible. You bite his bottom lip softly, releasing it with a pop.

A soft whimper leaves Aegon's lips as your own trail down the corner of his lips, to his yaw and sucking on his neck. He rolls his head to the side, giving you more access while his hand laces into your hair.

The elevator doors roll open and you pull away. Your lips are puffy and red, your chest rising rapidly as you watch Aegon come back from cloud seven.

"Come on", you say and take his hand, leading him into your penthouse.

On the way to your bedroom, you've lost both your gloves and your high heels, while Aegon is on his bare feet and his tie hangs loosely around his neck. The jacket he wore is thrown somewhere your gloves also have ended up.

Reaching your bedroom, you push him down to your bed. Aegon leans back on his elbows. You push the straps of your dress down, and it lands on the ground. Aegon's eyes are transfixed on your boobs. They have to be the most perfect pair he has ever seen. And he has seen a lot.

"What is that?", he whispers with a smile, eyes fixated on the black strips holding up your boobs.

You roll your eyes, pulling the tape off your body. "You don't think my tits stay up by themselves, do you? Darling, gravity isn't the biggest fan of breasts."

Aegon sits up, pulling you closer to him by your hips. "I don't care, I like 'em." He presses a kiss above your belly button and smiles up at you.

You feel the heat creep up onto your face, and you look away smiling. "Shut up and get undressed."

"Yes ma'am", he smiles, and reaches for his blouse, but he hesitates.

You notice the quiver in his hands, and you reach out. "We don't have to be doing anything you don't like, Aegon. Just say the word and we can just chill on the couch."

But Aegon shakes his head, "no, I want this. I want you. But I'm... I'm scared you aren't going to like what you see."

Aegon knows his confidence is mostly an act to hide the fact that most days, he feels too fat and too lumpy.

With a shake of your head, you take his hands. "You could never disappoint me, Darling. May I..?" You refer to his shirt and Aegon nods.

Unbuttoning his blouse, you push the fabric off his shoulders. You take him in. Yes, his curves are round and his belly has faint stretch marks. But that makes him all more desirable to you.

In a world that is harsh and rough, you need something soft.

"You're perfect", you whisper before kissing him again with much vigour. And this time, Aegon knows what to do. He wraps his hands around your sides and pulls you on top of him, a thick thigh between your legs.

You hold his face as you grind against his thigh, creating friction on your core. Breaking the kiss, you moan out. Aegon lifts you off so he can shimmy out of his pants and underwear. You pull down your panties and fling them across the room.

Now that the two of you are finally naked — in Aegon's opinion — you crawl on his lap and reach for his penis. You squeeze him, swiping your thumb over his tip. Aegon moans loudly.

"Please", he whimpers.

"Please what?" You raise an eyebrow and pump him slowly

Aegon lifts his hips into your hand, "please- I- I- I can't! I have to feel you."

Taking pity, you let go of his cock and throw one leg over him, straddling him. You line up his dick and slowly lower yourself.

As you sink down on Aegon's cock, one hand gripping your hip and his other on a tit, with his head thrown back into the pillow in ecstasy, you don't notice a text flashing by on your phone screen.

[BOSSMAN] Enjoy your toy while it lasts

Taglist: @howyouloveyourdragon @linn-a-a @cogumoss @babyvulcan @ilovedesert-20089 @prettyblondguys @asiandongbongsoo

164 notes · View notes

smittenbyvillains · 1 year

Text

Fighting for you NSFW

Warnings: Threesome, fighting, BDSM, blowjob, P in V

You didn't understand this mess. You looked between the two as you were tied to a bed. You blinked. "What the is going on here?!" You exclaimed. Valtor grinned at you. Palladium was just staring at you thinking deeply. He then smiled realizing you were awake.

"Hello dear," Palladium said. "I am sorry for this but this ass wanted to try and prove something." He sighed. Valtor huffed at this and rolled his eyes.

"I am the one in control Professor Palladium so shut it be glad you are here." Valtor sneered. Vatlor smirked turning his attention to you. "So pet, we both got in a little argument when I was about to mark him under my control..." He said. "About you and who was better for you," Valtor added last and sat on the bed and took your chin in his hand turning it so you were facing him.

Palladium looked annoyed at this before going to the other side. He rubbed your arm trying to calm you down. It relaxed you enough and you nodded. Maybe this could have worked to your advantage. You had a crush on both of them. Each night one of them was in your dreams.

You had met Palladium when he started teaching at Alfea and you were to show him around. You became close friends. Nothing happened before now. You were excited without realizing it.

Meeting Valtor was during your fight with me during your time with the Company of Light. For a bit, he had you on his side but that was broken by your best friend and mom figure Faragonda. She had accepted you back and you were the key to defeating Valtor the first time.

You still wonder how he got free. You had to admit something was still about him that you loved. Most likely the bad boy vibes. You were snapped out of your thoughts when both men had stripped down. You just stared between the two. You just blushed.

"Is this okay dear?" Palladium asked you concerned about how you felt. You nodded that it was fine. You didn't trust your voice. Valtor grinned and removed the visible chains before using magic ones. Both of them went to either side of you. Palladium rubbed your inner thigh before kissing your neck gently. Valtor was not as gentle and completely opened your legs before starting to finger you with two fingers. He only watched your reaction.

Your reaction was to just gasp. He continued to do this getting rougher. Each time he hit your sweet spot. You mewled. Palladium just kissed your neck and moved down as he gave your breasts love as well. Both of them were doing something amazing. You moaned and arched your back. Valtor pushed you down.

"Stay down." He commanded. You nodded. He decided to pull out of your pussy causing you to whine. Valtor smirked at Palladium. "I'll take her mouth. I already took her virginity in the past so that doesn't need to be proven. Palladium nodded. He smiled at you. He melted at this. Both pulled away and admired you.

Valtor helped you move to hang your head off the side of the bed while splatting out for Palladium. Palladium gently got lined up and Valtor stuffed your mouth. Palladium entered you gently and groaned.

Valtor started to move out and in going deeper into your throat and moaned. He had missed this. Palladium wasn't rough and was gently thrusting in and out of you. You started to shake after a few minutes. Valtor and Palladium just moaned and groaned. You just mewled all the noises from feeling rough and gentle from the both of them. Soon all three of you came. Palladium then pampered you with kisses. Valtor helped you get your jaw back to normal. No one said a thing.

"So which one pet?" Valtor said. You couldn't choose and looked between the two.

"Both?" You said. Palladium and Valtor looked at each other and smirked.

"That works dear," Palladium said. All three of you ended up falling asleep on the bed after they gave you some aftercare.

#winx palladium #winxclub #winx club #winx valtor #valtor x reader #valtor

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blankwashed · 2 months

Text

Sleepless Shadows (Part 1)

Chapter: I II III IV V VI VII

"Y/n?" Satoru croaked, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. He rubbed his sapphire eyes, blinking in bewilderment. Bathed in the moonlight, his tall stature leaned against the doorway, muscular arms folded across his chest.

"It's two in the morning, kiddo," he rumbled, tilting his head and furrowing his eyebrow further.

"What are you even doing awake, let alone still in campus?"

"S-sato- Sir...."

"That's me." He says calmly, as he looks over you. His tone is soft but stern, his face unreadable as he studies you for a moment.

"It's a school night, Y/n. What are you doing up at this hour?" asks Satoru.

"Sorry sir I-I don't have classes tomorrow..." You tried to give excuses for why you're at school at THIS hour.

"Hm?" he says, his tone shifts into a slight questioning sound. He narrows his eyes in thought, as if he was trying to recall if she did have classes tomorrow or not.

Satoru stays silent for a moment, before suddenly letting out a soft sigh.

"Well," he begins. "Even if you don't have classes, you still shouldn't be out here in the middle of the night, you know? It's dangerous, go get some sleep."

You furrowed your brows, "How about you?"

Satoru stares at you and fixes his tie, "Me?" he asks with a brow raised as he glances away from her, seeming to consider his next words for a moment.

"Well I just finished handling some work and decided to check and make sure the campus is safe before heading home to sleep."

Check whether the campus is safe? Satoru isn't one of the security guards, why should he care about the campus' safety?

"So," he asks with a brow raised as he glances away from you, seeming to consider his next words for a moment.

"Go back home."

Satoru seems to be waiting for you to leave but still keeps his eyes on you patiently, like he's waiting for you to protest for some reason.

"Actually, I-I'm waiting for someone..." you fiddled your feet and replied softly to your lecturer.

The man's eyebrows shoot upward in shock, his expression immediately shifts to one of concern for you.

"You're waiting for someone?" he asks, sounding slightly agitated.

"Y-yes sir, I actually am..."

His tone remains calm as he tries to keep his voice even. "And who exactly are you waiting for in the middle of the night? If you don't mind me asking."

"Well sir, it's a guy. One of your students. Toji..." Toji is one of your university's heart throbs, a rebellious rascal if you would call him.

"Y/n honey, why are you wanting to meet up with him? Let alone being in the out alone so late at night." Satoru starts to get worried for you as he doesn't usually see you mixing with people such as Toji.

"R-Recently, we have been getting along quite well and he asks me to come here at this time so that he could take me to visit a place he called special." You bit your lip while talking to your handsome professor. Hold up, handsome?

You stared at Satoru for a second. His face glistening under the moonlight, his ruffled white hair from working over-time. Shirt barely tucked in to his pants. Why have you never noticed this before?

"Y/n dear, he's only trouble for you. I know you have been a straight A student ever since you've joined our academy. And it would go to waste if you were to goof off with someone like Toji." Satoru looks at you with genuine care in his eyes.

Satoru, Satoru Gojo is quite young to be a professor. At his age, 28, he has already achieved much more than others at his age. He was intelligent, good at sports and quite the ladies man if you remembered. Rumour has it that he was single for quite some time and how women have been lining up throwing themselves at him.

All these thoughts make you blush hard. It's only two of you in the big university campus at night. The only sound heard are a bunch of crickets...probably mating.

You lecturer was decked in a white Oxford shirt that has its sleeves rolled up to his elbow and a pair of dark blue jeans. Satoru always had the best fashion-sense amongst your lecturers, being him achieving a job at such a young age.

He continued his worry for you with, "Darling, I'd rather you to focus on your studies before dating someone whom I can practically see have a stable future with."

You were flustered. Thoughts that came from everywhere started bombarding your mind.

Is he saying that he can give me a better future?

Is he showing how he cares for me?

Satoru goes closer to you and tucks a hair behind your ear.

"Are you afraid of the dark, y/n? You're suddenly looking a tad pale.." he comes so close to you and puts his palms on your head, measuring your temperature.

His hands. His big, muscular, hands. The things you would want him to do to you if you- what? He's your lecturer. Snap out of it!

Not being able to speak a word, you just stared at him with your big doe eyes. Just trying to register this moment in your mind so that you can replay it any time you're feeling....aroused.

"I-I just need to sit down...I think it's because I haven't been sleeping so late in a long time.." you finally managed to squeak out.

Satoru looks at you in worry. Afraid that you might actually pass out on him. You did look pale and with your skinny chicken legs, he's worried that you might be trying out one of those fad diets that claims are "good for slimming down".

"Come with me. y/n. We'll get some supper and I'll fetch you to your dormitory. I'm worried for you, y'know?" Sato says as he brushes his fingers on your cheek in a concerning tone.

Your mind instantly shifts from spending a night out doing whatever with Toji to spending the night with Satoru. Be it just getting supper. Besides, Toji probably is just going to ditch you, just like he always does to vulnerable females he coerces with.

"Sure sir, I'd be happy to," you gleamed at him and stood up.

Lost in a fog, Satoru's mind floats as to how fast you agreed to his suggestion. He leads the way to his car, a black Jeep Wrangler, opens the door for you as the gentleman he is and joins in on the other side.

Once the doors are closed you feel extra chaste. Being in a car with your good looking lecturer at this time of night? Who would've ever thought?

Just before Satoru starts driving he makes sure you have worn the seatbelt. He reaches to the seatbelt on your side and tugs it a few times, making sure it was intact and had you kept in place.

"Just checking, you never know when you need to be extra careful, y/n. " This time he had a sly smile on his face. Your face immediately blushed hard red. All you could do was nod and pray to every deity there was that this wasn't a dream.

OK SO LIKE I just wanted to write something for Sato okay really.

Please be kind to me I haven't had the time to write, (its been years) (im trying to improve as well).

I think they're going to end up having sex some way or another (probably because I just want to write a sex scene lmao anything for Satoru tbh).

#satoru gojo #satoru #gojou satoru x reader #romance with student #student lecturer #fics

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honestlywtfisgoingon · 2 years

Text

When You Weren’t Looking — pt. 3/?

PROFESSOR!OBI-WAN x READER

PART 2

an au where you and you literature professor realize you both have things to learn about love, and yourselves, outside of class. (as we all know, this can only be done through a big scoop of angst and a smutty cherry on top)

summary: sober-wan is gone

warnings: language, alcohol, anakin being the best and the worst at the same time (he’s gonna be v present in the series so idk if that’s a warning to u or not lol) satine

a/n: if y/n didn’t have a crush on obi then she would def have one on padme. im also entertaining the idea of dragging out the time before the smut and then throwing that shit in every chapter lmao. btw this is mostly dialogue and idk how to feel abt that yet

word count: 2,479

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin put his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder and shook it to gain his attention.

“hmm?” he stopped scanning for places to sit and turned his head towards Anakin instead. Anakin grabbed both of his shoulders this time, turning him around fully so that Obi-Wan could see what he was already looking at.

“Isn’t she in your fourth-period class? Yeah, she is! The one you’re giving extra credit to,”

Anakin pointed at you standing behind the bar. You were serving drinks to an annoyed-looking woman and the rowdy group a couple of chairs over. Your head leaned back as you laughed at something they did. They weren’t disrespectful or anything, just having a bit of fun. They had come to celebrate the end of the work week by getting drinks at the bar, just as Obi-Wan and Anakin had come to do, except they were not aware of the small detail that was you being the bartender.

Obi-Wan clicked his tongue as he slapped Anakin's hand down. He was too late though, as you saw them standing in the doorway from across the room.

“Shit, sorry,” Anakin said sheepishly.

You didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered, a little surprised maybe, but the same could not be said of Obi-Wan. You waved, too far away for him to notice the blush on your cheeks. He returned it awkwardly as Anakin shouted your name, just loud enough to make it over the music.

He took a step forward, but paused when he noticed Obi-Wan still rigid next to him. He gave him a quizzical look.

“It’s just that it’s weird to see her in this environment I suppose,” Obi-Wan answered to his expression.

“You see her outside of class all the time,” Anakin was becoming both increasingly concerned and intrigued by his mentor’s behavior.

“True, but this is different. She’s not a student out here, she’s just…”

“a person?” Anakin raised an eyebrow.

“well…”

“Glad you figured that one out,” Anakin clapped a hand on his shoulder. Obi-Wan glared at Anakin. knowing him for years through Qui-Gonn had made becoming his TA more like becoming a brother. The two of them looked back at you, now focused on serving drinks to a new couple that had just sat down at the bar. Anakin looked back and forth between you and Obi-Wan.

“You like her, don’t you?” Anakin looked at Obi-Wan with a suspicious eye.

“Don’t be ridiculous Anakin,” Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.

“You do!” he exclaimed. Anakin knew Obi-Wan well enough to where he could spot the cracks in his serious facade. He had known that Obi-Wan was romantically capable, but that was only by accident. They were having a conversation one day and somehow he made a comment that alluded to the fact that he had once been in a relationship a very long time ago, and that it had deeply affected him. Anakin was able to get her name but not much else out of him, as Obi-Wan insisted it was in the past. He had been hoping for some time now that his mentor would find someone again, and he’d be damned before he wasn’t his wingman.

“Oh admit it. You have a thing for her!”

“This conversation ends now,” Obi-Wan said firmly.

“I know that Satine—“

“Ends. Now.” Obi-Wan glared severely.

Anakin raised his hands in surrender and started towards the bar again. They took the seats that opened up now that the annoyed lady had gotten up, presumably because she had had her fill of those next to her.

“Hi! I have to say it’s a bit weird to see both of you here. I guess I forget sometimes that teachers are still people and do…people things,” you had worded your thoughts rather awkwardly but chose to laugh at the fact rather than get hung up on it.

Obi-Wan relaxed at your statement. So you felt like it was a bit odd too, you just weren’t nearly as dramatic about it. Anakin subtly elbowed him, and he inwardly chastised himself while at the same time appreciating your own brand of confidence, laughing off an introduction that you could have otherwise been embarrassed about.

“Yeah we feel the same about you and the other students too,” Anakin chuckled.

“I’ve got to say it was a bit of a shock,” Obi-Wan chimed in, your eyes flicking to him immediately.

“I hope that's not a bad thing,” you smirked.

“No no, more like a pleasant surprise,” he was quick to reassure you, his nerves now smoothed considerably.

“I’m more than happy to pleasantly surprise, which is why” you turned behind you and then spun back around facing them, this time with two drinks in your hand, “I made these for you guys,”

“oh?” your professor lifted his brow.

“I uh, it’s just fun when a customer lets me surprise them with a drink based on their preferences. I took the liberty of guessing those too,”

you’re adorable— no sweet— nice?

Obi-Wan searched for an adjective that he felt less alarmed when using to describe someone in his professional world.

You pushed Obi-Wan’s drink towards him with a wink, saying, “don’t worry it’s on me.” You didn’t have to do the same with Anakin as he plucked his drink straight from your hand when you had offered. It was a dark drink in a martini glass, a blackberry with a toothpick running through it at the bottom of the glass. He stirred the stick a bit before he lifted the glass and took a sip.

“What is this? I like it a lot. What made you pick this one out for me?”

“It’s a black martini, pretty straightforward name, but it’s got gin, lime, pineapple juice, and charcoal but you can't taste it. It’s a little…moody,” you dropped your voice and leaned in for a feigned whisper “but it’s secretly fruity,” Anakin’s eyes went wide.

“No,” you laughed “Not in that way, but it doesn’t taste as dark as it looks,”

Anakin chuckled, “I’ll take it.”

You had turned to Obi-Wan now. “Sorry Anakin, but I’m more concerned about the Professors reaction,”

“Oh? Why’s that?” Obi-Wan leaned in with curiosity

“Well, one of you has to be the harsher critic,”

“Hey, I do grade you pretty well,”

“Did I not mention that last essay a while ago?”

“Ah, you have indeed, little one,” he conceded as he lifted his glass to his lips, a yellow drink with a lemon peel curled around the rim. His eyes widened in happy surprise. “mmm, it’s delicious” his tongue darted out to savor the taste.

“but…” he started, your forming smile put on pause, “The final score is pending until you tell me what it means”

“Well it’s called,” blushed and looked down a little in embarrassment. you didn’t think this through. “it’s called between the sheets” Anakin huffed air out of his nose in amusement as Obi-Wan choked on his second sip, which was unfortunately much larger than the last, “Well it’s a classic,” you quickly continued, “with a story behind it, something I feel like you’d appreciate in a drink, but most Importantly it’s got a little sass,” You all laughed.

“Oh dear,” Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair

“She’s not wrong,” Anakin said.

“Yeah, Professor. You’ve got more spice than you think” well thank the maker you didn’t see him as old and boring.

Anakin had his mouth open to make another comment when he suddenly stopped and broke into a smile. You and Obi-Wan waited for him to explain but when he didn’t, you both leaned next to him to follow his line of sight, landing on Ms. Amidala walking in.

“Really now, is this a school meeting I didn’t know about?” Obi-Wan cried. He didn’t have anything against Ms. Amidala, but if things kept going in this direction, he was not going to be able to enjoy his drink…or you… if Professor Windu and the rest of the staff somehow got the same idea to show up.

“Actually, I invited her,” Anakin said in a rather confident tone, no doubt prepping for when she walked over.

“What?” Obi-Wan said sharply.

“Well we were just talking today and she said she’d like to talk again some other time so I convinced her to come here tonight,”

“Now who has a thing??”

It was your turn to say, “What?” Obi-Wan made a small incoherent stuttering sort of noise.

“Just be mindful Anakin—“

“Hello!” Ms. Amidala greeted all of you as she pulled up a chair. You’d seen your school counselor many times in the halls and she was always immaculately dressed, but you’d never realized how beautiful she was until now.

“I don't think I've met you before” she turned towards you with such a pure and genuine smile that you couldn’t help but return it. She really was something, Anakin.

“I’m y/n. It’s nice to meet you Ms. Amidala. I usually see you walking around the campus. I'm a student at the university actually,”

“We’re not on campus right now, so please, call me Padmé,”

“Padmé then,”

“Padmé,” Anakin said next to her, a tinge of awe in his voice.

“Ani” she greeted him, “Thanks for asking me to come,”

“Of course,” Anakin said. Maker, could he drool any more?

Obi-Wan started to cough abruptly, and somehow that cough came out sounding an awful lot like the word “mindfulness”.

“Are you ok Obi-Wan?” Padme looked at him with concern.

“Oh, quite,” he dabbed the corners of his lips with one of the coaster napkins. Your eyes met as you smiled in amusement over his attempt at warning Anakin, which went completely over his head of course. Anakin was going to make a fool of himself regardless, but you, being the kind soul that you were, figured you could at least try to make it so he could blame the alcohol for anything too stupid.

This led to your sudden suggestion of shots, whipping out a handle of tequila in one hand, vodka in the other.

“It’s not a school night.” you said.

“On yes let’s!” Padmé said excitedly. She looked the picture of elegance with her swept-up hair and delicate blouse, and yet she was the one eagerly motioning for a little glass.

“Yeah!” Anakin agreed.

“Shit,” Obi-Wan whispered under his breath.

little one what have you done.

Anakin just laughed at Obi-Wan’s disdain.

“This is where the fun begins.”

—

Obi-Wan was stubborn, but as soon as you said the word, he was downing the alcohol, impressively smoothly one might add.

“Yeah! Let’s go gramps,” Anakin patted Obi-Wan on the back.

You never seen Obi-Wan as old, and the thought of it felt a little off to you.

“Just because Professor Kenobi’s the only one of you who can manage to grow a beard doesn’t mean he’s old,” you quipped.

“You make a fair point,” Padmé said and Anakin frowned.

“Thank you y/n,”

“Of course, Professor,”

You didn’t realize how much time had passed as you alternated between serving other customers and conversing with… friends? They were supposed to be your superiors but in this environment, you suddenly felt so close to them. Admittedly, it did help that Anakin was a little bit of a child at times, making you feel like you were on equal terms with him especially, you two being the youngest of the four.

It was now midnight and Padmé had sobered up from her buzz. She had only taken one shot and you realized she encouraged the shots mostly just for the boys and sat back to enjoy her own innocent amusement. She was funny.

At the same time, Anakin was revealing that he was very much a passionate drunk. He was telling stories of how he wanted to be a pilot at one point, and Padmé was thoroughly entertained. It was sweet how he made her laugh and she never had to doubt that she had his full attention.

You’d never seen Obi-Wan like this before, his eyes were a little droopy but his smile was huge. He had made himself comfortable by laying his arm on the bar, slightly propping himself up with his hand as he leaned lowly over the countertop. He was witty as ever, but as Anakin and Padmé shifted into their own little world, you noticed your Professor had been watching you walk back and forth behind the bar, wiping down the counter and getting ready to close down the bar.

“How are you feeling?” you asked him.

“Quite lovely,”

“I’d hope so, Professor. Tequila will do that to you.”

“Obi-Wan, please. Ms. Amidala had a point, and we’re both adults out here are we not?”

“Alright then, Obi-Wan,”

“I like how it sounds better when you say it,”

Was he…flirting? outright?

As much as you enjoyed it, he was drunk and you didn’t want to say anything foolish that he would remember you saying when he sobered up, but you’d be lying if you weren’t gonna take the compliment.

“Thank you. Although I think you should get some sleep now,”

“No,” he sat up and looked very adamant with a slight frown. He looked like a little boy who had been denied candy.

“Alright alright,” you turned to Padmé to whisper “I think he’s ready to go home now,”

“We are of one mind then,” she smiled. “I’m going to take Anakin home as well, I don't trust him to do it alone. it was wonderful to meet you,”

“I never expected to have this much fun—

“with teachers?”

“well, yeah I guess,”

She smiled then told both of them to stand up and they followed her out the door, but Obi-Wan only made it halfway there before he turned around, jogging back to you.

“I’d just like to say, I’m very glad I gave you a shitty grade,”

“what?” you said in surprise at his confession. You liked drunk Obi-Wan.

“No, it’s just that, if I hadn't, I wouldn't get to see you after my classes, and I wouldn't have realized how wonderful you are,” his voice was sincere and smooth. He had meant it.

“You’re right, I am wonderful,” you shrugged jokingly.

“Oh thank the maker you’re aware,” he said relieved and in all seriousness.

“I was joking, but I just want to say that I would've taken that grade any day if it meant spending time with you”

“I’ll see you next week darling,” he said as he kissed your hand. His eyes were low and your heart rate was high. You felt a dizziness that was becoming all too common around him.

He turned away too soon for your liking, and you watched him leave with Padmé and Anakin. You hadn’t even had a single drink and yet you felt so warm. After you closed up, you were definitely going to have one if you were going to digest what had just happened.

PART 4

#obi wan and anakin #obi wan kenobi #star wars #anakin skywalker #obi wan #obi wan kenobi x y/n #obi wan smut #obi wan x reader #obi wan au #professor!obi-wan #star wars au #padme #padme amidala #anakin #obi wan kenobi smut #obi wan fluff #obi wan kenobi x reader

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sweethartlullaby · 4 months

Text

you, among the art v

word count: 1440 genre/theme: fluff and angst later, sculpting series, graduate student and her professor/supervisor, female and male pairing as always, imagine whoever you would like... find part vi here sweethartlullaby ꕤ masterlist

“You’re in deep.”

“No.”

“You almost kissed him.”

“We were just trying to stay warm!”

“By joining lips?” Her friend raises an eyebrow. After telling her, she knew there was no way to face it besides for what it was. She stands from her seat, pacing behind the chair as she pushes her hair back in distress.

“I can’t like him.” She whispers to herself. “No, no, he’s cold and he’s my supervisor, oh my God he’s my supervisor. The ethics!” She exclaims as her arms flail above her head.

“The ethics…” Her friend repeats but she looks as if she couldn’t care less. She returns to her seat, biting on the pad of her thumb as she tries to sort herself out. She can’t avoid him forever. She will just have to convince herself that there is nothing to like about him.

Yes, that will simply have to work.

“Why don’t you go out with one of my desperate friends?” She stops chewing and raises an eyebrow.

“There’s tons of people that like you. You can easily forget about him if you’re sleeping with someone else.” She sighs and looks down at her bruised finger.

She thinks about it for a moment. These desperate friends of hers don’t usually have a good reputation. But surely, there’s no harm in trying…right?

“Fine,” She looks up and crosses her arms. “I’ll try one date.”

She wishes she could fake an emergency. Maybe a fall on the way to the bathroom, or something to do with her project. Anything that gives her escape from this horrid date.

He’s a handsome man but the words that come out of his mouth immediately spoil all that is good. In the thirty minutes they have been sitting at this table, he has questioned her more than she has ever done to herself.

“Why art?”

“So, you must be really confident in your skills.”

“I’m sure a doll like you could do other things.”

The fake smile has gone by now and all she wants to do is look uninterested enough for him to leave on his own. But he hasn’t stopped speaking about his own interests and each time she thinks it’s the end, he somehow returns back to how he feels about it.

It’s funny. She agreed to go on this date so she would stop thinking about him but as she drowns her date’s voice away, all she finds herself dreaming about is him. Fact, she wishes he would walk through the door and save her from this.

“...bill?”

“Sorry?” She turns back to him.

“Could we split the bill?” She scoffs and throws the napkin at him before she stands to walk away.

As she pushes through the doors, greeted by the icy winds of December, she reminds herself that sometimes, there is harm in trying.

She takes a deep breath and knocks on his door twice. He missed class today, which meant she had to improvise her way through the one hour she was stuck in that room. It also meant she might give him an earful for the lack of warning.

As she waits, her mind wanders back to the gala. As much as she doesn’t want to, she can’t help but reimagine that moment. He smelled like fall and she swore she could make out the hint of clay when she took a breath so close to him. He was such a great dancer too and…

His father and the mention of a fiance.

It tugs at her heart a little when she thinks of the fact that he has someone waiting for him at home. The kiss they almost shared must have been a mistake then. She slides her free palm down her skirt, only pretending to smooth it down. In the other hand, she holds a bowl of soup. As much as she wants to appear irritated, her concern for him is greater. She figured it must have been something serious for him to leave her on her own.

Anyone would have done the same for their supervisor. It’s just being nice.

She sighs and raises her knuckles to knock again, when it swings open, revealing a very revealed supervisor standing at the doorframe. His large shirt is buttoned wrongly and it starts with the last three buttons, leaving his torso peeking at her as it drapes against his back.

She doesn’t realize her mouth has been hanging open until she speaks.

“Uh,” She tears her eyes away from his body and looks at him. Yet, her heart doesn’t stop rapidly beating in her chest. “You didn’t show up today.”

He straightens his back and buttons the rest of his shirt.

“R-Right, I’m so sorry about that.” The both of them stand there in silence for a moment.

“I thought you were sick so I brought some soup.” She raises it, hoping her smile breaks this tension.

“Oh,” His eyes soften and he returns a small smile before he steps to the side and invites her in.

“Let me just get dressed.” He calls out as she places the bowl on his counter, unwrapping it so that it’s ready for him. When she pulls her hands away from the bowl, she finally feels the warmth in her cheeks. Even with her primed fingers, she still feels the heat on her face.

With a shake of her head, she grabs a cup of water and chugs it, hoping it provides some relief to her embarrassed soul. Her eyes dart around the room, hoping something will take her mind off of the image of his body, his lips, his face, his voice.

A twinkle catches her from the corner of her eye and she turns to see a pile of medals hanging by the window. She scoffs a little as she sifts through them. Shouldn’t such precious things be kept in a safer place?

They date even farther back the more she goes through; ranging from awards for the Best Stability in a project to the Best Design. His certificates only add to his longstanding reputation. His walls are adorned with the plaques that make up his prestige. She stares at each, her inspiration increasing with each one.

“Where’d you get this soup?” She turns and he has poured it into two bowls.

“Just a corner store near where I live.” She says as she takes a seat next to him. He takes a sip and nods slowly and although it’s nothing, her heart swells as he approves.

“So, you are sick?” She asks as she holds the bowl in her hands. He pauses before he chuckles a little and leans back on the couch, throwing a hand over his eyes.

“No, I drank a little too much last night.” He says but with the smile on his face, she feels no remorse.

“I had to teach alone because of you.” He lifts his hand to peek at her before he sits up and looks at her.

“It’s great practice if you ever want to be a professor.”

“Well I don’t, I’m going to make great work so museums pay to have my work displayed.” She scoffs but he just laughs. “You don’t think that’s going to happen?” He shakes his head and sighs, eyes finally settling on hers; the way they did that night.

“I’m sure museums would pay fortunes to have your work.” He says it with such delicacy and faith that she feels it in her bones. She smiles but he doesn’t look away and for some reason, she can’t either.

Is he going to…

She tries to tear herself away but before she has the chance to do so, he reaches and tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear. A sharp breath makes its way into her lungs when his fingers slightly brush against her cheek.

“W-Why’d you get drunk last night?” She clears her throat, finally able to look down. It’s mostly to hide her blushing cheeks.

“I felt a bit hopeless.” At this, she looks up at him again. He must be able to sense the concern just from her face because he shrugs.

“Relax, I’m alright. I just needed a drink to get my mind off of things.” When she hears him grab the bowl, she looks up at him again.

“Guess we both had a rough night.” She chuckles and leans back with him, staring at the ceiling above them.

“What happened with you?” He murmurs.

“Just a stupid date I should have never gone on.” She says and turns to look at him.

To her surprise, he’s smiling.

a/n: yay, she updated! okay so i know i said i would try to get it all out before the end of the year but i got really depressed about my finals so it's a little late (oops, sorry). to make it up to you, i have finished writing it and i will be uploading all of it tonight! thank you so much for your support and i will be getting to your requests soon!

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latent-sense-of-loyalty · 3 months

Text

Ch. V

Word Count: 4826

Masterlist ¤ AO3 ¤ Ko-Fi

AN: If you want to be updated for new chapters, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! Enjoy!

October 7th 1893

He did not expect what would actually happen, agreeing to accompany her on this… excursion? He had known about her extracurriculars for some time, nearly impossible to hide broken bones and cuts from his gaze. Plus explaining anything like that to the nurse would have her permanently grounded here. Lenore trusted Aesop enough to keep the secret, and she knew the only way it would break is if it went too far.

They were very close to that line.

He saw her emerge from the bridge, fixing her black gloves. He deduced that her school uniform was not exactly the best attire for such a task, instead opting for a simple black shirt, vest, and trousers. Her overcoat bellowed in the fall twilight breeze, Aesop for a moment unable to form a thought. She looked like an Auror, she reminded him of his prior co-workers, strong and down to business. She looked powerful, beautiful. For the moment, Aesop forgot she was his student.

Immediately Aesop banished the thought, shaking his head and collecting himself as Lenore approached. She looked him up and down, a small smile appearing in her face. "Just… going to wear the same thing you usually do?" He was taken aback, looking down at his usual attire.

"I'll have you know that I wore almost this exact attire while I was an Auror." Aesop did his best to sound stern, but even he could not hide his growing amusement. "I think it works quite well. You can never go wrong with perfection"

Lenore couldn't argue, he did wear the robes and suit well. Very well. Well enough that she found herself admiring how well he wore them recently. For someone out of the Auror career for some time, he found a way to keep himself fit. It made her indulge in a dangerous curiosity.

"Well, anyways," She cleared her throat, approaching him more as they both stared out into the night sky. "I'd say we best get a move on. I received an owl that they plan to move the cargo tonight from the Clagmar Coast." As she began to walk, something came to her head, a very large something that filled her with concern.

"Professor Sharp… pardon me for asking, because I don't mean to question your abilities whatsoever," Judging by the expression in his eyes, Lenore was already treading on dangerous ground. "But…. Your leg… I dont want you getting hurt."

Aesop chuckled at her concern. "You do not need to worry about me." He reached inside his jacket, visiting out a flask.

Lenore almost choked. "Drinking?"

"No! Merlin’s beard, do you think I'm a drunk Miss Arkanos?" He was half offended by the statement, but something about her shock made him try his best to hide the smile fighting its way through. “Something I have made myself to help with the pain. It will not heal it per say, just give me some relief for a short while.”

“You still haven't found anything.” He could hear the concern in Lenore’s tone, her eyes deeply sympathetic. “I’m sorry professor.”

“No need,” He waved his hand dismissively. He recalled a few times she had stayed behind to see if she could be of some help finding a cure with him, both of their efforts still in vain. But it was one of the few things he could keep some kind of false hope for. “All you need to know is that I can still be just as agile as you.”

Something about the smile appearing on Lenore’s lips made his stomach flutter.

“We shall see.'' Before he could get in a rebuttal, she made a loud whistle into the night air, the sound echoing through the valley beneath them. For a moment, Aesop just stood there, confused in the silence.

“Why would you whistle for the broom-” before he could finish a large gust of wind nearly pushed him over, the visage of a large white hippogriff, flying directly above of the pair, softly landing beside Lenore before nuzzling into her neck. Only then did he notice the carcase of a weasel in her coat pocket, Lenore feeding the Hippogriff before scratching its neck. When she looked back to Aesop, she could not help herself, giggling at his shocked expression.

“What, I'm sure back in your days at Hogwarts they also had Hippogriffs.” She could almost hear the sound of his eyes rolling as he walked towards the creature, dipping into a low bow. Lenore stepped away, giving the chance for Highwing to inspect the man before giving him a bow. Seeing Aesop bow like that, she could not help but have a blush grace her cheeks. Quickly she turned away, doing her best to regain some composure before she heard the man clear his throat. She could see the shit eating smirk on his face.

“For your information, miss,” he leaned in, giving her a nudge as his hand ran over the snow white feathers, “I was actually quite good in Care of Magical Creatures.”

“Oh really! Based on your charm and general demeanor, I would think you were the post popular among all the Jobberknolls.” Aesop was shocked to see Highwing let out a huff, stomping its talons into the dirt. For a moment, he let her words sink in before letting out a laugh.

Not only had this been the first time she had ever heard any kind of laugh like this from the man, it was the first Lenore had seen a look of pure joy on his face. His laugh was strong, nearly like a bark, yet contagious. She could not help but join in herself. As he calmed, Lenore could suddenly feel herself be lifted from the ground, Aesop helping her onto Highwing. When she looked down, she could see another look in his eyes she had never seen, and this time she could not tell exactly what it was. But it made her body light up like a candle.

“Be good, girl.” his voice rumbled with a low timbre, one that shook Lenore to her core. Aesop hoisted himself onto the creature, Lenore feeling his chest now flush against her back. Her brain was falling apart, barely able to form a coherent thought other than ‘him’.

“Shall we go?” his breath fell against her neck, Lenore thanking the stars that she was mostly covered, her skin now covered in goosebumps.

With a simple command and direction, Highwing had taken flight, soaring high above the loch as they made their way towards the coast.

For most of the flight, the two remained in a blissful silence. It had been years since Aesop had seen anything like this, the countryside and hamlets all around him. It all took his breath away, his eyes wide with wonderment. A part of him could not help but let out a breathless laugh at the spectacle of it all. Only when the ocean started getting closer in their sights, did Aesop realize how he was holding himself around Lenore.

For the entire flight, Lenore had been in some kind of delirious haze, thankful Highwing knew where she was going. Aesop’s scent, even with the wind against them, completely surrounded her. Lenore could barely be able to remind herself not to grip onto Highwing’s feathers too tightly. Never had the professor been this close to her, the closest being him looking over her shoulder in the potions classroom. Lenore knew it was wrong, but the whole situation felt so strangely intimate to her. That thought alone is what she assumed compelled her to say one of the stupidest things to ever grace her brain.

“U-Uh…. You know… It was my eighteenth birthday on the third of September.”

Aesop swore he nearly fell off of the Hippogriff, the jerking motion of his body jumping making the creature squawk in protest, the professor steadying himself. Her comment had come completely out of nowhere, and he then realized exactly what their proximity was, his body lighting like fire on gasoline. His response started with a choked cough, trying to regain some control in this situation.

“Well… um… a good belated birthday to you, Miss Arkanos.” he cursed himself on such a weak response. He sounded like an utter fool.

Thankfully for the both of them they were nearly at their destination, Highwing lowering herself towards the beach ahead, sharp rocks poking out form the sides of the mountain, giving them some kind of cover. As they galloped along the beach, Lenore could feel herself starting to tense, her mind now settling into her fighting headspace. Aesop could feel it too, a feeling he had not felt since helping the woman and Professor Fig. the potion had done its work, his leg feeling like it had before the injury, just a little lamer.

Soon enough, they could see an orange glow ahead, the distant sound of muffled voices making the hippogriff slow. They could hear the sound of crates being moved, animal whimpers, and waves breaking against something on the shore. Lenore could see a way into the ocean, a large galleon bobbing on the water. Slowly the two dismounted, sneaking up to the outcropping of rocks. With hushed voices, both cloaked themselves in Disillusionment, climbing the outcrop and peering over into the camp.

Quickly, Lenore noticed it seemed to be a camp of about fifteen, tents just finished being packed as they loaded their supplies onto the boats waiting at shore. Cages seemed to be on the far side of the camp, loaded with what seemed to be an infant thestral and six Kneazle. From how they were organized, it seemed they were to be the last loaded onto the boats. Silently, Lenore pointed to the cages, then to a few barrels still hanging around the dismembered camp. Grabbing his sleeve gently, they both slipped behind the stone.

“I can take the way around to unlock them. On my signal, draw them to those barrels in the back. We can blast once they are close enough and provide cover for them to escape.” Aesop immediately wanted to debate the plan, thinking the risk would be far too great. She would be out in the open while he stayed in cover.

“I'm not about to be tucked away and hidden with this. Besides, I can apparate. Let me take the riskier job. I'm not about to put you in any line of fire.” She knew from his tone he was not about to back down, Lenore just letting out a sigh as she nodded in agreement to his plan. Before she could climb over, Aesop grabbed her hand firmly, pulling her towards him until their faces were merely an inch apart.

“If anything goes the wrong way, you will get out. Even if it means leaving me behind. Don't take any unnecessary risks, understand?” Lenore could hardly breath, only nodding in response. He squeezed her hand, finally letting her go as they made their move.

Aesop made his way on the outskirts of the camp, thankful his leg was not in pain as he kept to his crouch. He inspected the faces of the poachers, trying his best to memorize them all in case he had the opportunity to take them in. He could just make out the blurred form of Lenore climbing over some of the rocks, sliding down to hide behind some crates. The tumbling pebbles had made a few turn their heads towards the noise, Aesop taking the opportunity to move himself faster towards the cages. Two guards were in front, more interested in their own conversation than the animals themselves. He was thankful, as he inspected the cage and animals, that the locks were simple enough to break open. The only problem was, the sound of the metal rubbing together as they unlocked would definitely alert the two younger men before him. Looking around, Aesop saw a pile of rocks to his left by the water, slowly moving to pick one up, throwing it into the water gently.

Immediately their attention was grabbed, one of the men making his way to the water's edge. Taking the advantage, first making sure the coast was clear, Aesop grabbed the other in a choke hold, quickly incapacitating him silently. He moved the body behind the cages, taking the advantage to unlock the first cage, the baby thestral quickly taking flight.

Just as he was about to get to the second lock, he had heard one of the witches in the distance yell out, a red barrel flying through the air and the night being erupted into an explosive flame. ‘Shit!’ was the only thought crossing Aesop’s mind as the night erupted into spells flying. As fast as he possibly could he unlocked the other cage, Kneazles scattering into the frenzy. Frantically he looked for Lenore, spotting her as she rolled out of the way of a bombarda, sending a poacher flying into the ocean. Without thinking, muscle memory took over for Aesop, joining in the fray. A few wizards he quickly incapacitated, his wand quickly freezing them. Lenore noticed straight away where Aesop was located, taking the chance to flipendo, the wizards flying into the cages behind, Aesop locking them in.

He knew they were completely outnumbered, even if the fight was turning in their favour. They both could see the other wizards trying their best to flank the two, boxing them in as best as they could to bombard them with attacks. Taking the chance, Lenore let burst a ring of fire around her, buying them the chance to try and run, the whistle coming from Lenore breaking through the screams of the ignited poachers. Aesop did his best to keep stunning the others, needing to buy them as much time as it took for Highwing to appear. His fear only kept growing as he saw Lenore get knocked back into a boulder, head colliding and breaking the skin. Aesop could feel something take over him, sending a flurry of confringo spells to knock the man out. He rushed over to Lenore, moving her to the other side of the boulder as more spells were thrown their way.

“Are you alright?” his voice was desperate, peering over to send more attacks. Lenore just nodded, shaking her head as she grabbed Aesop’s shoulder.

“I have an idea! I need you to lure them to that large outcrop we came over!” Aesop wanted to shake her, tell her they weren't going to win this if they stayed, that this was far too dangerous for the both of them. But the look in her eyes, the sheer determination, was enough to sway him. With a squeeze of her shoulders, she saw Aesop apparate towards the outcropping, most of the wizards going after him. Lenore came out to try her best to corral them towards the wall, flames erupting around her as they were driven back enough. Before they could realise her plan, Lenore began to fling the last of the red barrels towards them, the explosion making the wall break away and collapse. Some were caught in the stone, others trying to apparate towards the ship, sustaining enough damage from the two.

As if by luck Highwing had made it, landing by the cages as she cried out. The two made eye contact as they began to run towards the hippogriff, knowing this was their chance. But something caught Lenore’s peripheral. One of the wizards stepped out from behind the boat, locking his sights on Aesop. His limp had gotten worse, the potion clearly wearing down as he nearly made it to the cages.

It only took a split second after seeing the glow of red from his wand to steer Lenore away from Highwing, heading directly to Aesop himself. She could hear him yell out in pained confusion, but as he saw her sprinting, she could see the glow now across her face. Before he had any time to react, Lenore barreled into the professor, taking his coat by the lapels and using all of her strength to throw him behind her, her eyes locking with the wizard just as the crutiatus curse hit her.

Lenore could only take the second to remember the attacker, quickly apperating away before her body erupted into unimaginable torture. Aesop heard the scream shatter the night around them. Without hesitating, he grabbed the woman, carrying and hoisting her onto Highwing as she writhed and screamed out in terrible pain. He was barely on the creature when it broke into flight, trying to get away from the chaos as soon as possible. Lenore writhed against him, tears soaking through his jacket as he cradled her to his chest. It killed him seeing her like this, all he wanted was to take the pain and make it his own. Her beauty was painfully distorted, body now seizing as the red aura of the curse surrounded her.

Aesop just held her, whispering soothing words in her ear as he rocked her, Highwing trying her best to fly as fast as possible back to the castle. It was not much of a relief, but at a point halfway through their flight, he could feel Lenore go limp in his arms, most likely blacking out from the pain. It was the only relief he could give for now, his heart pounding in his chest. For the second time, he felt as if it was his fault someone he truly cared for got hurt by something that was meant for him. The only reprieve was that, by sheer luck, it had not been the killing curse. Now, Aesop could only wait.

Lenore did not know if she was lucky or not, to have felt the effects of the curse before. This time however, it felt far worse. She wasn't sure if Sebastian had cast it wrong before, but this time, she had thought she was going to die. When she went unconscious, Lenore thought for a very brief moment that there would be relief. She was very wrong. But at one point, she felt it disappear, the ice cold fingers of slumber dragging her down.

The first thing she noticed as she began to come to again, was that Aesop’s scent surrounded her, the warmth of bedsheets weighing on her body blissfully. For a moment, Lenore thought she had died. If this was her afterlife, she would take it. But slowly she started to feel the aching bones in her body, especially the pulsing pain on her head. She wanted to move, to get up and see what happened, but her body felt as if it had been replaced with lead. For now, she opened her eyes.

The first thing she noticed was the firelight dancing off the wooden ceiling. The room was warm, the smell of earl grey mixing now with Professor Sharp. Professor Sharp….

“Shit!” she gasped out, bolting upwards until a pain caused her to double over in pain, moaning out. It was then she saw the Professor himself, sitting in a large armchair in front of the fire. At the sound of her getting up, she could see his concerned expression landing on her, quickly standing. He commanded her to lay back down, limping over to a desk with a potion kit, grabbing a vial before limping to sit on the end of the bed. He reached to the side table, Lenore only now noticing the porcelain cup. He poured the vial inside, swirling it around before lifting the cup to her lips.

“Drink.”

Lenore did as she was told, the sound of his voice filled with his own pain and concern. As she felt the earl grey tea run down her throat, she felt her whole body go into a blissful numbness, all aching dissipating the more she drank. It only took a minute before the contents of the cup were gone. After he placed it beside her again, she wished for it to be brought back, the tension now piqued as they sat together. Lenore did not know what to say, and she knew the Professor was just as lost for words. But she had to try.

“Professor… I`”

“Do you know what could have happened? What… What kind of extremely dangerous risk you took doing this? You’re lucky it was merely a cruciatus curse that hit you.” He was not about to mention how it was meant for him, how he was supposed to be the one defending her. “Miss Arkanos…. If you had died…” Aesop felt himself getting choked up, the thought nearly making him sick. He did everything to try and keep some composure, but without thinking, he looked to Lenore, his hand reaching to trace the cut on her head.

Lenore felt her heart tear seeing the pain in his eyes, hating that she caused this. But she would not change the outcome. Lenore knew, if the situation happened again, she would take the curse for him a thousand times. Her hand slowly reached up to touch his. His hand was rough, calloused from years of work. The hairs were a peppered grey, matching his beard. She could feel him tense from her touch, but he didn't make any kind of move to retract it, both of them just looking at each other. When he spoke again, she could hear the fear laced in his words, the desperation as he pleaded with her.

“Please…. Lenore. Do not ever put yourself at risk like this again.” her chest tightened with guilt, her hand squeezing his own.

“I won't sir…”

Aesop took that as enough of an answer for now, his hand falling away. He could feel his chest fluttering again, heart racing. He created some distance to regain his thoughts, pouring the both of them another cup of tea. Helping her sit up, he placed the warm porcelain in her hand, moving a char to sit beside her.

“You know, I will say, your fighting skills are amazing. You can hold your own better than some Aurors I worked with in my day.” Lenore felt her chest swell with pride, his praise almost euphoric to her ears.

“But…”

“But?” Lenore’s head snapped towards the man, brows knit in confusion.

“Your skill in stealth is horrid. Like I said, you were lucky things panned out mostly in our favour, but you need to work on trying to be as silent and hidden as possible. Not every situation can take such a bombastic approach. You will put not just your life, but others at risk.” His voice was hard and stern, just like how he would reprimand and scold anyone in class. It made Lenore shrink down into his bed more. Only then realizing where she was.

“Professor is this your… room?”

Aesop nodded, sipping more of his tea. “I could not just bring you to the Hospital Wing after everything. Both of us would have had hell to pay. I'm lucky nobody saw me carrying you here.” Lenore felt her cheeks warm, the thought of her being carried by him making her feel lighter.

“Thank you sir… for everything.” Her eyes met his again, her hand reaching to squeeze his own. This time, he tensed at her touch, her skin leaving a beautiful patch of warmth. For a moment, they stared into each other's eyes in silence, Aesop not noticing that they had gotten closer together, their faces again just inches apart.

What broke them from their trance was a knock at the door.

—

Aesop had not realized he had fallen asleep in his chair until he heard the knocking across the room. Trying to rub the sleep from his eyes, he took notice that the fire was now reduced to burning embers, the private room mostly dark save for the lamp beside him. Papers scattered everywhere on the table before him, haphazard notes taken from the recent development in the case from Ominis. He was lucky Sirona had let him use the room for the past while.

Speaking of which.

“Sir? Just checking in to see if you needed anything.” Sirona’s voice was heard on the other side, a slight bit of concern tinging her words. She also must have come to realize how much time Aesop had spent here. A sudden clap of thunder outside shook the rest of the dreariness from his mind, Aesop clearing his throat.

“No, I am fine, Sirona, thank you.” He tried his best to sound as awake as possible, but even he couldn't hide all of his exhaustion .

“Alright, I am just serving the last few stragglers before closing up, will you be staying the night?” Shit, Aesop did not realize exactly how late it was. Staring through the window, he could see the night had indeed descended, Aesop letting out a sigh in frustration. He had not meant to fall asleep, but he knew he would be too tired now to go anywhere.

“Yes sorry, just give me a moment, I'll be right downstairs to pay!” he called through the door, scrambling to find his coin purse. He heard Sirona call and say to take his time as her footsteps retreated back down into the tavern, The Auror now letting a groan out in frustration. He had been pouring over these notes for two days, sending owls to Ominis to see if he would have any other clue to where Lenore could have gone. Ominis could only assume she would want to be as far away from any loved one as possible, hence making sure her tracks were covered. The only tip off was that they both knew that Lenore had a hard time keeping away from comfort places, which to the two of them, gave the hope she was somewhere in the Hogwarts vicinity. He and Ominis both remembered how much she stated that she adored the area, how it was a second home to her. On an investigative side, it did make some sense to him about her hiding in plain sight. But since Ranrok and Rookwood, Auror presence had gone up exponentially.

And that was the problem he faced with this whole scenario now. Anything that would have made some kind of sense, made little sense at all once it had some holes poked through.

Just as he was picking up the coin purse, his body was thrown to the floor, the building shaking beneath him as he heard Sirona yelling out, mixed with furniture breaking. It took him a moment to understand the situation, quickly making his way to the door. He could see a confringo blast outside through the doors, a figure racing out into the downpour, a few wizards running after them. Aesop didn't waste any time, taking his flask out for a swig as he raced down the stairs, veering to the side door that let him out into the alley. The pounding rain muffled most sounds but he could hear the shouting of the attackers run right past, Aesop on their heels. Quickly, he incapacitated one, the others now realizing they were being flanked. Aesop was lucky enough for a couple Auror’s who were stationed in Hogsmeade to be coming from their sides, most scattering. He called out orders to them as he continued to run forward, more concerned about the figure those wizards were chasing. It had taken a moment to catch up, just seeing the first figure turn around to wave their wand, a piece of stone from a wall flying through the hair to collide with the wizard's face. Aesop could hear the skull crushing on impact, knowing the wizard was probably killed instantly.

“Shit!” the other wizard cried out, turning back to the figure. “I'll get you for that bitch!” As the wizard raised his wand, Aesop felt time go still for a moment, his heart dropping.

He had seen magic like that before, seen someone wield their wand like that, and as the thunder clapped above them, he saw the figure, now on the hill, raise their wand to the sky. Aesop tried to run towards her as fast as he could, but just as he was about to pass the attacker, the figure's wand shone a brilliant blue, illuminating their face as a lightning bolt was brought down from the sky, almost incinerating the attacker. The force of the blast throwing Aesop back, his body colliding with a wooden cart. In his blurred vision, he could see the figure hesitate for a moment before they aparated, Aurors now descending on the scene. As they tended to Aesop, others checking the bodies to confirm death, he felt his chest light up again, and hope flooded through him.

The figure, as their magic illuminated their face, had been one of an old woman. Yet their eyes. Eyes of blue with vibrant green flecks.

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#hogwarts legacy #aesop sharp #aesop sharp x oc #harry potter #hogwarts legacy fic #harry potter fic #professor sharp #professor aesop sharp #professor sharp x oc #professor aesop sharp x oc

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sexguru69 · 2 years

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melpomeneese · 3 years

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there comes a point in every college english class I have ever taken where I have to inform the professor that I'm seeking therapy and yes, I know this is a problem

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fandomout · 3 years

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heya! can i request lots of lip gallagher angst please? i love what you write and need him in my life </3

Thank you so much! I'm not sure when I'll be able to make more Lip angst or Lip fic's, but I'll be sure to try when I get an idea. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this one. 💜

Lip Gallagher X Reader-Imagine trying to convince Lip that Helene, his professor, isn't the best thing for him, but he can't see the truth

Warning! Mentions of virginity and sex, but there is no actual smut. Slight fluff. Lots of Angst. Not sure if this has been done before. If it has, credit to them, and this is my version of it.

Smiles and laughs grace your best friend, Lip, and you can't help grin just because he seems happy. He tells you about his recent endeavors at college, specifically how he’s having the greatest adventures with his professor, Helene. When you 1st heard about this mysterious woman, you were initially livid, on the inside, of course. You wanted to know everything and nothing about her all at once. However, just like always you had to find a way within yourself to support Lip’s happiness. You always hold onto the friendship that’s graced the both of you with each other. Also, you couldn’t help internalizing Lip’s trauma's and emotions throughout the years. He deserved to go to school and become even greater than he already is, and although you couldn't always stomach the thought of him with someone else, you’d support that too to see him be loved. You were as it goes hopelessly devoted to Lip, so you hadn't really dated too much. Nothing could ever get serious when you’d hold him in your heart.

🖇

One day, you were at Lip’s dorm helping him clean up a bit when Lip seemed to really catch the fact that you'd apparently been single for “too long”. You scoffed at Lip and asked, “What’s that your business for?” He laughed at the comment and added, “I just want you to be happy. I mean we don’t get as much time these days. Me in college and with…” He smiled and looked off to space. You mouth her name as he says, “Helene.” You roll your eyes at it and shake your head and bitterly say, “I don’t need to be with someone to be happy.”

“I get that, but maybe you’d seem a little...a little...better?”

“Better?”

“You just seem a little down lately. Seeing as you won’t tell me what it’s about, I’m just trying to find an all around solution because I care.” His hand finding your shoulder.

”I’m doing fine, really. You're just so up in the clouds-”

“I want you up here too.” You sigh as the words are a rubber band to the heart as you wished he meant together...

“Lip, I don’t need someone.”

“It doesn't have to be serious. Just get laid.“ His insistent nature angers you to shout, “I can't! I’ve never-” You stop yourself too late. Your virginity has never been a topic of concern. You both just glossed over it. To you, it never seemed like Lip knew you hadn’t gotten that far, regardless, you never wanted it to be made so clear. Silence passed between you two before he started to laugh and said, “You’re fucking joking.” You looked down to your feet, which was when he actually believed your words. “No shit. No fucking way! You haven’t gotten laid yet!”

“Want to scream it out any louder! Shut the fuck up!” He laughed before he held his hands up in surrender.

“That’s crazy to me.”

“Of course it is. You bang anything that walks. Lip-”

“Even with any of your s/o’s, you never-”

“No! I'm a virgin. No big deal!”

“Yes. I just find it hard to believe nobody would try. Did they?”

“Maybe once or twice, and I shut them down.”

“Not good enough for you.”

“Something like that.”

“People are fucking stupid. You are hot, and it surprises me there aren't any more.”

“It's the story of my life.”

“What?”

“Getting overlooked.” You said simply before continuing to stack a book on a high shelf.

“Come on, that can’t be true.” He turns you toward him. “I see you unless I see dead people.”

“Haha.” You grin.

“I’m serious though. When you walk into the room, it’s brighter. Maybe you catch the attention of shy people. Maybe pay more attention?”

“Can we stop talking about it?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

🖇

You were on your way home late at night when you got a call from Lip. You answered and immediately thought it was a bit late.

“Hey!” He said a little off.

“Lip, what’s up?”

“Just need a drinking buddy.” You hear a bottle crash on his side of the phone.

“You doing okay there?”

“Yup! Having the bez time.”

“You already started drinking without me. Where are you?”

“I think I’m on campus on like a lawn-can’t remember which one.”

“I’ll be right there. Stay on the li-” He hung up. You jumped a fence and ran all over campus with no sign of him, and he wouldn't take you calls. You finally found him toward the back exit of the campus. He was swinging his body silly with heavy footsteps. You rushed over to support him. Immediately, he detached himself. A pout on his face with slumped shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” He laughs dryly.

“Come on, sit down.” You have him sit on the curb and wish you brought him a bottle of water or something. “What’s this about?”

“Helene...She’s married. She has a kid.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. This must be shocking to hear-”

“I already knew.”

“What do you mean you knew?”

“These past few...weeks? Weeks, I think, I knew. Hell, her husband watched us-Well, watched us fornicate.”

“Gross.” You couldn’t help but say. He shrugged at your reaction, not really being able to defend that truth. “You agreed to it?”

“I did, but I feel her pulling away now. I haven’t changed anything though.” He turns quickly toward me like he’d get whiplash. He points his finger to his chest and hits his chest aggressively as he says, “I’m me! I’m still giving her everything I have!...It leaves me in a funk.”

“You want to be with her that badly?”

“Yeah.”

“But, it doesn't feel so good.”

“Right.”

“You know why?”

“Yeah. I just said she has-”

“I didn’t mean the family thing.”

“Then, why?”

“You should try a relationship that’s more meaningful.”

“This is meaningful to me.”

“I meant a healthy meaningful.”

“Who are you to tell me?” He said it harshly.

“You’re right. I have no right to tell you what’s meaningful to you. You have to admit you're not in the best situation.”

“You’re one to talk. You’d rather have nothing than search for something. I think your standards are too high.”

“Trust me, they're not that high… Top 3 are honesty, communication, and trust.”

“Hmm ...You want to tell me something?” He smirked.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m all three of those for you. I must be your dream guy.”

”You could be, except it wouldn’t happen obviously.”

“Are you sure about that?'' He found himself saying.

“Here we are talking about your women, I’m sure...” You bite at your lip. Your thoughts stop when you see a few tears branching out of his eyes. You comb your hand through his hair. As he looked for more comfort, he wanted to lay down. You convinced him to let you get him to his dorm. He allowed you that, and he cried himself to sleep on your lap. He snuggled into your leg while you rubbed his back. You’d already had a distaste for Helene, but now you really couldn't stand her. She’d been fooling Lip, and she still had the power to keep going along with it.

🖇

After the incident, Lip wanted to act like it didn’t happen. He had told you that they were working on it. He even said it might be the closest thing to a relationship he’s had. You wanted to be there for him, but you had to admit you couldn't support this harm. There is a difference in this case to supporting him. You didn’t want to be a part of any longer. You kept quiet about it initially since she’d only done “one” wrong by him, according to Lip. He talked to you less and less it seemed after it. You tried your best, but something always seemed to come up. You’d get calls from Ian or Fiona that he’s drinking a lot which worries you and hasn't attempted AA when they think it's becoming a big issue. Finally, you confronted Lip on the street.

“I can't talk now.” He said. You didn’t let him push past you and stated, “No. You are not ditching me once again. You have stuff going on. It probably has to do with that woman-”

“Helene. That's none of your business.”

“None of my business?” You look at the bag under his eyes. He reeked of alcohol on his disheveled clothes. “She’s ruining you, but that’s none of my business? What happened this time?” He took out a cigarette and lit it before he sniffed and gave you a side smirk.

“I just maybe happened to beat up her son after I thought she cheated on me with him. Isn't that funny?” He giggled and hiccupped.

“Why were you upset? You were fine when she had a husband to cheat on you with.”

“That was different. Anyway, I see you’re upset about the lack of time I’ve been spending with you, but I can fix it. Let go for a drink.'' He put his arm around your shoulder and was probably leading you to Kev and V’s. You removed the arm and snapped, “What you need is some water. You’ve had enough.”

“What do you mean I haven’t drunk today?”

“Tell that to your breath and clothes. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“I think this conversation is stupid and remember why I was trying not to talk to you.”

“You did it on purpose?”

“I just knew you’d get all worried for nothing.”

“For nothing? She’s not good for you to begin with. Lip” You hold his hand and softly say, “Lip, She was your professor and married.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.”

“Lip-”

“I love her! She sure is a hell of a lot better than the ones telling me otherwise. You have no right to judge me. Take a look at yourself!”

“What are you talking about?”

“You go around pining for me in hope someday you’ll be the one. You’re pathetic! You can’t be the one because Helene was! She is! You’re single because no one wants you! You try to act so high and mighty! If you're so great and talented, leave! You’re useless around here! You fucking suffocating me with your supposed love and care! Thanks so much for it! You-”

”Stop!...I get it. You don’t want me around. Get some help from a sponsor and go to the AA meetings.” Tears began to pour, and you sniffled. “You wouldn’t want to lose and hurt someone you actually care about.” As he saw your tears and hurt, he sobered up slightly and said, “Wait-” You quickened your steps to get away as fast as possible. He tried to follow after, but his drunken body wouldn't allow it as he reached forward and fell right on his ass. "Fuck!"

Hope your day got better

Part 2 Lip realizes his mistake

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