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#yes i know those aren't actual words
mysterysoulrider · 1 year
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A bit of cross country with Luna in the beautiful Firgrove woods.
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kelev9 · 4 months
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thank you university of wisconsin for having a spreadsheet of dog commands in different languages including hebrew so i can practice all potential future dog commands <3
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freedomfireflies · 3 months
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Teenage Dirtbag*
Summary: The one where Harry's popular, cool, and everything you aren't. And maybe you want to keep him your dirty, little secret.
Word Count: 5.5k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, gag, exhibitionism if you squint, fratrry, not suitable for Ramadan!
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“Okay, next question. What is the Albedo Effect?”
“27.”
“Harry, come on.”
“What?”
“I need an answer.”
“That is an answer. Maybe not to this question, but it’s an answer to some question.”
Your expression falls flat as you toss a piece of popcorn at him. “H, seriously.”
“What?”
“We’re supposed to be studying.”
“We are.”
“No, actually studying.” You toss another piece at him, which he catches in his mouth. “Harry—"
“The Albedo Effect is the reflectivity of the Earth’s surface,” he finally says before grinning smugly. “There. Happy?” 
“Mm.”
“Since I got it right, do I win a kiss?”
“No. You win another question,” you say before switching to the next notecard. “Okay, what is the average temperature of the Earth’s surface?”
“27.”
“Harry.”
He laughs before he’s reaching across the bed to grab the stack of notebooks, cards, and books all over your lap. Effortlessly discarding of them while leaning toward you to ghost his lips over yours. “59 degrees Fahrenheit.”
Your lashes flutter. You want to argue. Want to fight him and demand your things back. But it’s hard when he’s this close. “Um…right.”
He smiles, mouth dangerously tempting as it dances along the curve of your jaw. “Give me another.”
“I…” You swallow. “I can’t. You stole my cards.”
“Oh, did I? Oops.”
“You’re mean.”
“Yeah. But you like me.”
“Not right now.”
“Yes now. Always.”
You huff. “I’m not…I’m not kissing you until we finish studying—”
“Well, I’m not studying until you kiss me.”
“Harry—”
“What, angel?”
You fist his shirt. You mean to push him away and yet somehow, he ends up even closer. “I didn’t invite you over for this.”
“I know.” He smirks again. “This is just a bonus.”
“We agreed to study.”
“We are.”
“Jessica’s gonna be back soon—”
“So?”
“So, you know you can’t be here when she gets here,” you remind him, finally finding the strength to shove him back. “Come on, a few more questions and then we can take a break.”
“You said that a few questions ago,” he argues.
You grab the cards. “Oops.”
Fifteen minutes go by before you finally reach the end of your notes, earning a loud sigh from your study buddy as he flops onto his back in defeat. 
“That was awful,” he declares. His head rolls until his eyes find yours. A soft green beneath those long lashes. “You take way too many notes.”
“I like to be prepared,” you pout as you stand and put them back on your desk. “You don’t take nearly enough.”
“Because I have you.”
“Yeah, well…that’s cheating.”
“It’s not cheating if I’m helping you use them.”
You turn around and place your hands on your hips. “You’re annoying, you know that?”
“Yeah.” He sits up and reaches for you. Easily tugging you between his legs as you try—futilely—not to fall for that gorgeous grin. “And yet you keep me around.”
“Mm…for now.”
“For now, huh?” His large hands slip beneath the hem of your shirt and you do nothing to stop him. “You just use me for my cock, is that it? Cause I’m a good fuck?”
Your skin grows warm as you look away. “Stop it, don’t say it like that.”
“What? M’I embarrassing you, pretty girl?” he whispers. He squeezes your sides, palms soft against your stomach. “Which part did it? Cock or fuck?”
You close your eyes and groan. “Harry—”
“What? They’re just words, baby.”
“Yeah, but they’re dirty words.”
He’s grinning again. Arrogant and far too smug. “I’ve seen this pretty mouth do far dirtier things—”
You bury your face in your hands to hide. “Please don’t remind me—”
“Why not? Hm? You don’t wanna remember the way you took me down your throat like a good girl?” He lifts your shirt and presses a gentle kiss just below your belly button. “Or what about the way you scratched your nails down my back as you came? Crying my name until your voice went raw?”
“Harry…”
“What about when I fingered you under the table?” he murmurs, then moves his kisses up your torso. One after the other. Slow. “And you had to bite your cute, little lip to keep from moaning?”
You start to squirm. “H…H, please—”
“What about the time I bent you over that desk—” He nods his chin toward the table in the corner of your dorm room. “—and made you cum so hard, you squirted.”
You make another noise and melt into his touch. They’re good memories, you know that. But they do unspeakable things to your anxiety. Just the thought of what someone might say…the idea of what the two of you have done. You weren’t raised to think or feel so freely and Harry is a master at making you nervous.
You’ve done more with him than you ever have anyone else. More than you imagined you’d ever do. And even if you wouldn’t trade it for the world, you can’t say you really welcome the reminder.
His kisses reach your chest. Naked and bare and begging to be touched. “You can be dirty, too, pretty girl.” 
Your hand finds his hair. Fingers sweeping through his soft curls that are normally restrained by some sort of beanie or bandana. “H…”
He hums. He knows he’s embarrassing you. But you suppose that’s why he does it. 
The small room falls silent, save for the gentle sounds of his kisses as they move toward your breast. His tongue is dangerously close and you know if he gets his way, you’ll never get anything else done.
However, just before those pretty pink lips can make contact, you hear the sound of your roommate’s voice down the hall. Loud enough to startle you and pull you out from between his legs.
Quickly, you’re tugging your shirt back down and grabbing his hand to lead him to the window. Nearly shoving him out onto the fire escape before he’s even had a chance to catch his breath.
“Go,” you whisper as you toss his flannel at him. “Hurry.”
“You know, as much as I like being your dirty little secret, you know she’s gonna find out eventually,” he says while dipping beneath the window frame until he’s completely out of the room.
“I know. But today is not that day.”
Once you’re sure she won’t see him, you get ready to close the curtains. But you’re stopped by his large hand slipping around the back of your neck as he yanks your mouths together. Finally getting the kiss he so desperately wanted.
“You’re still coming to the party this Friday, yeah?” he murmurs against your lips.
You kiss him back just once before you’re shoving at him again. “We’ll see,” you call.
He winks.
With that, the window slams shut, and he disappears into the darkness. Right as Jessica slips inside the room and begins to tell you about her incredibly long day.
And every trace of Harry has gone.
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“Ten minutes. Just ten minutes. And if we hate it, we can leave.”
“All right, fine,” you agree, begrudgingly following your friend into the large, familiar house that sits a few miles outside of campus. “Ten. But if I get a single drink spilled on me…I’m out.”
“Deal.”
You laugh as Jess throws her arm around your shoulders to lead you inside, shoving past the group of college students already gathering in the living room.
Every inch of the house is packed full of people. The music is loud, the smell of weed is strong, and a lively game of cup pong is being had down the hall. Truth be told, this scene always tends to catch you off guard. No, this isn’t your first party. But you were raised in a world and in a home where drugs and alcohol were never present. 
You don’t mind being around them or watching people participate, but the concept is still rather foreign to you. Even if Harry’s presence in your life is beginning to change that.
Speaking of, you can’t help but search for him as Jessica drags you from room to room. You imagine he’s around somewhere. After all, this is his frat house, and you’ve never known him to miss a party.
But with the football game happening tomorrow night, you wonder if he’ll be out practicing or if he’ll be here with his teammates, pre-gaming.
You catch a glimpse of his red, backwards baseball cap as you’re leaving the kitchen. He’s across the house, clad in a black, graphic t-shirt and skinny jeans, leaning against the wall as he talks to one of his friends.
He’s nodding along to something they’re saying, taking slow sips of whatever’s in his solo cup while lazily looking around.
And that’s when he finds you.
Even with all these people, you feel like the only two in the room. And you catch the way he smiles. A soft, secret smirk meant just for you. And a gleam in his eye as he takes another sip and returns to his conversation.
He’s glad you’re here and honestly, you think you are, too.
“Oh, Zack, there you are!” Jessica suddenly exclaims before she’s yanking you toward one of the guys on Harry’s team. “Zack, this is the friend I was telling you about.”
A bit confused, you and Zack exchange a nod as your roommate begins the excited introductions.
“This is the guy I wanted to set you up with,” she whispers under her breath before straightening up. “So, uh, Zack! You’re single, right?”
Even more surprised, Zack blinks as his attention drifts to you. He hesitates, and for just a moment, you wonder if he recognizes you.
This isn’t the first time you’ve been in this house. And it’s not the first time you’ve met Zack. However, you and Harry have been rather diligent about keeping your visits a secret, even from the other boys that live here.
Still, Zack almost caught you once when you were forced to hide in the shower as he brushed his teeth. And even though he didn’t seem to notice, Harry mentioned that he did see the earrings you accidentally left behind. The same earrings he proceeded to tease Harry about for the next week.
And the same earrings you’re wearing now.
But, if he’s begun to put two and two together, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he shakes his head. “Nah, not really. I’m kind of seeing Annie. I guess.”
You smirk. “You guess?”
“I mean, we’re fucking,” he argues. “But, like…I wouldn’t say we’re together. But she would. I don’t know. But she’d be fucking pissed if I went out with someone else.”
To your surprise, Zack seems to be covering for you. Because you happen to know Annie is actually seeing Derek. She and Zack never got past the drunk-fuck phase, but it seems Jessica doesn’t realize the lie being told. That, or she’s lost interest.
“Oh, boo,” she pouts before turning to you. “Well, I tried. Sorry, babe.”
You laugh. “More than all right. I’m…I’m gonna go use the bathroom and maybe look for some water. I’ll meet you here in a bit?”
“Yes! Text me! Or call me. Or…just yell my name really loud,” she says, already slipping into the next room. “Whenever you wanna go, we will, okay? Seriously.”
“Got it,” you call. And with that, the two of you split. Leaving you to look for the only man you really care to see.
He’s no longer talking to his friend and doesn’t seem to be in the lower part of the house. So, you make your way to the next floor. Shoving past couples making out on the staircase and groups doing blow in the bathroom.
He might be in his room, although that’s perhaps a little too obvious. You still aren’t ready for people to know that the two of you are…well, whatever you two are. And you can’t imagine he is, either. Not considering his reputation and the other girls he’s been with before. 
Compared to them, you’re just…you.
Swallowing your own disappointment, you continue down the hall in search of him when a large hand suddenly wraps around your upper arm and yanks you into a bedroom.
You aren’t surprised that it’s him. You aren’t even surprised that he’s brought you back to his room. You are, however, rather confused by the giddy grin on his face.
“You came,” he whispers before he’s shoving you against the closed door and kissing you hard. “Been waiting all fucking night to see you.”
You’re breathless. You always are when you’re with him, but this…now. His kiss, his touch, his voice. The sultry way he speaks that goes straight to the place between your thighs.
“Missed you,” he says. He sucks on the spot below your ear. “God, I really fucking missed you, angel. You have no idea.”
“You saw me this morning,” you remind him. “And for lunch in your car.”
“S’too long,” he argues. “You don’t know what you do to me, baby.”
You grin. Even if you know he’s merely being cute, you can’t help but believe him. “Yeah, okay.”
“I mean it. Besides, you think I wanna watch Zack fucking hit on you all goddamn night?”
You lean back. “You saw?”
“Course I fucking saw. Could hear that shit-eating grin from outside,” he huffs before he’s kissing you again, as if to prove a point. Either to you or to himself. “But he wouldn’t if you’d just let me take you on a proper date.”
“H…”
“Yeah, I know.” His kisses get softer. “I know, I’m sorry.”
“No, I…I get it,” you sigh against his cheek. “I just…it’s hard—”
He takes your face between his hands and makes you look at him. “I know, angel. M’not pushing, I promise. I’ll do whatever you want me to.” 
You squeeze his wrists and smile. You sometimes find yourself surprised by how willing he is to be seen with you. You aren’t sure why, but you always assumed he’d be ashamed. That he’d be the one to want to hide. To lock you away and keep your rendezvous a secret. 
And maybe you like it this way because you’re afraid. Because you’re worried that once he sees how odd the two of you look together, he won’t want you anymore. That the relentless teasing and comparisons will drive him to end things.
And you’ll be devastated.
Perhaps sensing where your mind has gone, Harry resumes his work on your throat, efficiently distracting you. You happily relinquish your overthinking to him and his intentions, and it feels good. You used to be scared of being touched, of being loved. But it’s becoming easier with him. A routine you wouldn’t trade for the world.
He begins to pull you toward his bed. It’s made for once, which you have to admit impresses you. Harry doesn’t tend to devote his time to things he doesn’t think matter. Like cleaning his space, taking notes, or worrying about his classes. Somehow, he manages to pass every semester, keeping his spot on the football team, while you struggle to keep up even with all the time in the world.
Half the time you suggest studying together, it’s because you’d actually like his help.
“Wait…wait, Har,” you murmur as he sits onto the mattress and begins to pull you in a straddle over his thighs. “Wait, not…not when you’ve been drinking—”
“Haven’t,” he exhales against your mouth. “S’just Sprite. Coach doesn’t let us drink before a game.”
Almost relieved, you lift a brow. “But he doesn’t mind a wild party?”
He smirks. “Technically, we’re not supposed to do that either. But…I kind of live here, so…”
“Ah.” You dip down and press your lips to his softly. “Then I guess you just don’t have a choice, huh?”
“Nope.” He moves his hands to your waist, subtly grinding your body over his until you both groan. “Besides. I’d much rather be here with you than down there with them.”
“Mm. That’s the right answer,” you tease as he laughs and slips his fingers under your dress. 
You know this dance by now. You even enjoy it when Harry’s at the lead. He knows what he’s doing, even if you don’t. And he knows just how to teach you. Show you. Guide you. 
You take a deep breath and let yourself submit. Let his hands roam, his thighs flex. Let his mouth travel down your neck and to the curve of your shoulder. He slips the strap down until he has more room and then he moves for your chest. Hungry kisses meant to devour you.
“My pretty girl,” he whispers, tongue licking a stripe along the top of your breast. “Wore this just to torture me, didn’t you?”
Your lashes flutter. “Thought…thought it would be easier.”
“Easier?” He glances up, smirk devious. “You wanted me to have easy access to your pretty pussy?”
The vulgar language brings a fervent heat right to your face. You glance away out of habit, but he doesn’t let you this time. Instead, he pinches your chin tight between his fingers and forces your attention back.
“Is that right, angel?” he asks again, firm.
You swallow. “…yes.”
“Mm. Good girl,” he mumbles before moving his hand to your tit. Squeezing it gently while wrapping his lips over your nipple. “Or maybe you’re my naughty girl tonight. Yeah? Wearing something so sinful. Just for me.”
You nod quickly as your nails scratch down his scalp. “Just for you.”
“Mhm. Not Zack.”
“No. No, not Zack.”
He simpers at the sound of your breathless whines. Enjoying the way your hips roll against his. The way your naked thighs feel against his clothed ones. “Gonna let me take care of you, baby? Let me have a little taste?”
Your stomach flips. Harry has introduced you to a world of pleasure you never knew possible, but you still can’t deny that it makes you feel vulnerable. The way your body is put on display for him. Accessible to his tongue, his hands, his…
You close your eyes and force a nod. You just won’t think about it. You’ll let him have his taste and then he’ll start. You understand the science behind it. Your body needs to be properly lubricated before he can begin. And it’s not exactly a step you care to skip, even if it does make you nervous.
He grins at your reaction before he’s leaning back onto the bed and dragging you up toward his face, that bright red hat falling off in the process.
He’s mentioned this position before. Apparently, it’s his favorite, but it certainly isn’t one you’re used to. You don’t understand the mechanics. How you’re meant to surrender control but also keep from crushing his pretty face beneath your weight.
“Angel,” he calls, pulling you back. “What did I say last time, hm?”
“I…I know, I just…” You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you—”
“You won’t,” he promises yet again. “You can’t. I know what I’m doing, yeah? Trust me. Just let me do this, I’ve got you.”
And you know that he does. So, surrendering your inhibitions, you let him place you just where he wants before he nods at you to pull your underwear to the side.
You do. Fingers shaking as you drag the damp fabric away and present yourself to his tongue. You want to look away. Want to hide from the growing look of hunger in his eyes, but he’s already sucking on you before you can.
And once he starts…things don’t seem so bad.
His tongue is magic. His lips are divine. Even his hands are wonderful with the way they hold you still. 
You think you could spend a lifetime against his mouth. Live here, die here. Do anything and be anything he wanted so long as he never stopped.
“Doing so good for me, pretty girl,” he says after a moment, and you almost miss it over the faint thumping of music outside his room. “You okay?”
You nod, fingers back between his curls as you brace yourself. “Yes…yes, I’m…I’m all right. Am I…am I too—”
“No,” he says simply. “No, you’re perfect. Don’t move. M’having so much fun.”
And you don’t doubt that he is. His eyes are closed and he’s feasting on you like he’s been starved his whole life. His entire face is between your folds, licking, sucking, nipping. Wet sounds that are somehow louder than the noise outside. 
You can’t help the way you groan. The way you say his name and shake in his hands. It’s too much and you’re still unsure how to handle so much ecstasy.
But he knows. And he keeps you planted on his tongue until you’ve nearly soaked his entire face. And then…he stops. Seconds before you can find that sweet release and you gasp as he pops off and scoots you back.
“What…what did I do?” you pant.
He laughs while he sits up, cupping your cheek in his palm before pulling you forward for a kiss. “Nothing,” he whispers, and the taste of you on his lips makes your insides twist. “I told you, you’re perfect. I just have something else in mind.”
“Oh.” Your fingers twist together. “Do you…do you want me to…?”
He smiles again then shakes his head. “Not this time, pretty girl. You know I don’t always expect that, right? I don’t eat you out just so you’ll suck me off.”
“I…I know.”
“Good. I eat you out because I fucking love it.” Another kiss. “And not just to get you wet.”
You feel your features scrunch, the urge to hide much stronger. “I know.”
“And I don’t want you to forget. I love watching you take me down your throat, but only when and if you want to. Tonight, I thought we could maybe try something we haven’t yet.”
“Oh…”
His eyes settle on yours. “I want you to ride me.”
Your lips part. “You…oh.”
“We’ve talked about that before, yeah?” He sweeps his thumb across your cheek. “About if you think you’d be comfortable?”
“Yeah, we…yeah. I…I don’t mind. I just…I don’t know…”
“I know,” he murmurs. “But I’ll show you, hm? We can just try it and see how you feel. And if you don’t like it, we can do something else.”
It’s a good plan. A solid plan, and even if you’re unsure, you can’t help but feel excited. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeats happily before scooting back toward the headboard. “All right, can you take me out, angel?”
Eagerly, you agree, crawling after him until your fingers find his jeans. Seeing such a massive dick always tends to surprise you, but you find that you feel more confident now than you did before. He’s beautiful, every inch of him. And he seems to love the way you touch him. The way you look at him, admire him.
And that’s your favorite part.
“Good girl,” he coos as you reach inside his boxers to wrap your palm around him. “Not so shy anymore, hm?”
You shake your head, lip between your teeth as you release him from his pants. 
He laughs. “I can see that. Can you give me your hand, pretty girl?”
You oblige and he pulls your palm to his mouth before he’s spitting directly in the center. A large wad that sits snugly in your hand before he drops it back down to his cock and nods at you to continue.
You drag the wet substance up and down his rather impressive length until he’s glistening. He’s already quite hard, but your delicate strokes seem to get him the rest of the way. Until he’s standing straight up and nearly leaking. 
“Good,” he says again, a tad breathless. “So fucking good at that, you know?”
You smile. “Practice makes perfect.”
“Mhm.” He chuckles. “Then can you show me how good you are at putting me in?”
You nod fervently. The academic overachiever in you is always anxious to prove yourself to him. To show that you’ve learned, you’ve improved. That you’re worthy of his time and his body. 
You use one hand to guide him and the other to keep your panties to the side. He, in turn, makes sure to lift your dress high enough that you can both see and the moment his tip makes contact with your throbbing clit, you whimper.
“Shh,” he murmurs. “You’re all right. Go ahead and tap it a couple times, yeah?”
Forcing your pulse to steady, you do. The heavy appendage seems to taunt you as you pat it against your pussy and the sensitive nerves that make your legs shake. But it feels like heaven and even Harry has to take in a labored breath as he watches.
The two of you rarely use condoms these days. You did when you first started, but after getting tested and being assured that you were the only person he was sleeping with, you decided to try just once without.
And you know the risks. Know it’s rather idiotic to tempt fate the way you do. The pill isn’t a guarantee, and you know neither one of you are ready to be parents.
But after feeling him…feeling all of him…you became addicted. Despite your better judgement, you found yourself eager to feel him again. And again. And again. 
And now, well…now you don’t think you can go without.
“There you go,” he sighs. “Just like that. S’it feel good?”
“Mm…mhm.”
“Good. Go on, baby, put me in now.”
With his help, you lift up and guide his large head toward your hole. Slowly pushing it in while dropping yourself down.
“Fuck,” he exhales through a groan. “Shit, just like that. You okay? S’it hurt?”
You shake your head. You don’t have the strength to speak.
“Okay. Keep going.”
You do. A steady pace that seems to torture you both until the whines and cries slip out before you can stop them. 
“Goddamn, angel,” he grits. “Shit, you feel so fucking good. You still all right? Know what to say if you’re not?”
“Ye—yeah.”
“Attagirl. Okay, baby, I want you to lift up now, yeah? Nice and slow.”
Doing your best not to tremble, you raise back up and feel the way his thick cock seems to stretch you open. The way it travels through your body, making you feel empty without it. 
And once you’re near the tip, he pulls you back down, and you start again. 
The speed is tediously languid. It almost hurts and the noises tumble from your lips one after the other without pause.
Your thighs burn. Your core burns. Every inch of you seems to be screaming, yet Harry doesn’t break a sweat.
“Doing so good,” he praises again. He pulls at your jaw until you kiss him. “Know it’s hard, but you look so good riding my cock right now.”
You only mewl. Loud and incoherent. 
He releases your cheek to reach for something on the nightstand beside him. Something you don’t see through your hazed vision until he begins to unwrap it and bring it to your mouth.
His bandana.
It’s his favorite one, too. The white one, with little back details on it. But you aren’t exactly sure what he expects you to do with it now…until he smirks.
“M’gonna put this in your mouth,” he says before resting it on your lips. “Gotta keep you quiet since I didn’t lock the door. Don’t want anyone to hear you and come lookin’, hm?”
Your eyes widen as you gape at him. “Harry—”
“Sorry. S’just too distracted.” He grins. “Open up, pretty girl.”
Rather excitedly, you obey. Giving him just enough room to slip the fabric between your teeth until you can clamp down and he can fasten it in a knot against the back of your head.
“There you go,” he declares when he’s through. “Now you can be as loud as you want, yeah?”
You nod.
“Mm.” He dips down to start kissing at your chest. “Can you keep going, baby? Or do you need me to take over?”
Your lashes flutter.
“I know,” he coos when he sees the fucked-out expression on your face. “S’hard, isn’t it? My angel’s getting tired, huh?”
Another nod, slower.
“Okay,” he chuckles. He grabs onto your hips and straightens up. “Okay, I’ll fuck you.”
Just like that, he resumes the pace you set. Using every muscle in his thighs and abdomen to fuck his cock up into you and leave you a wilting, blubbering mess.
The poor bandana becomes soaked as he pounds into you. Faster and faster while your body shakes and drool pools at the sides of your mouth. 
Your whimpers sound shuddered now. In tune with his fast thrusts and the wet, lewd cacophony of your bodies connecting. Pornographic in nature yet somehow…euphoric. 
He sucks your tit back into his mouth and you clutch onto his scalp. Nails scratching at his neck, shoulders, and chest until you feel your orgasm coming up on you once more. 
And he feels it, too. Features twisting at the way you clench around him. The way your body draws him in, treats him right. He’s obsessed and he’s told you as much. Even with the level of stamina he possesses, he can never seem to last all that long when it comes to you.
“Fucking hell,” he groans before he’s tightening his hold on your waist. “Shit, s’it feel good? Like being on top, angel?”
You nod and press your forehead to his. Even if it’s rather exhausting, you can feel him in places you couldn’t before. Nudging against your g-spot until you see stars and have to physically fight the urge to cum. 
“No, don’t,” he pants, seeming to sense it. “Want you to cum. Right now, baby. Okay? Let me feel you first.”
Even if you wanted to argue, you can’t. The low, graveled instruction goes straight to your cunt and you cum before you can stop yourself. Drenching his cock, his thighs, your thighs. You sway, go limp in his hold. Until you’re slumping against his chest as he fucks you through every second of it.
“There,” he praises, large hand rubbing up and down your back. “God, you’re fucking good at that. Love the way you cum for me. S’fucking heaven.”
You know he’s close. And you know he won’t finish inside you, instead wasting his offering on his stomach or somewhere else.
So, you get an idea. You pull off him as best you can while he hisses and resists the temptation to release inside you before you slip the bandana back out and crawl down his lap.
Then, you take him in your mouth. It only takes two sucks before he’s grabbing at your neck and finishing down your throat. The warm, sticky substance familiar and far too thrilling. 
He cums and he cums until you’ve nearly sucked him dry and his tired body melts into the bed.
He whispers your name and fights to keep his eyes open so he can gaze at you. Then, he tugs on you. “Come here.”
He kisses you. Tongue and teeth clashing in a messy exchange, but he doesn’t mind. He loves it. Moans into your mouth and pulls you against his heart until you can both catch your breath.
You revel in the post-orgasm glow. Body’s abuzz and slightly sweaty from the workout. But you wouldn’t trade this ache in your joints for anything. 
And you realize you wouldn’t trade him, either. 
“You okay?” he murmurs after a moment.
You hum. “Yeah. M’tired.”
“Yeah,” he echoes with a gentle laugh. “It was fun, though, right?”
“Mhm. Very.”
“Think you’ll wanna do it again?”
“Maybe,” you admit. “As long as you do all the work again.”
His laugh is louder this time. “Deal. Or maybe we’ll just have to work out your muscles until you can do it all on your own.”
“Mm…unlikely.”
“But maybe.”
“Maybe not.”
“Doesn’t hurt to try.”
“Might hurt.”
“Yeah. Okay.” He smiles. “Can you stay tonight?”
“I don’t know. Jess might be looking for me.”
“Tell her you’re staying.”
“I can’t.”
“You don’t have to tell her who you’re with.”
“H,” you sigh. “She thinks I’m a virgin prude. If she knows I’m staying, she won’t let it go until she finds out who I stayed with.”
The room falls silent. You feel him sigh. “Yeah, I know.”
You glance up. “I’ll tell her one of these days, I promise. I just…I wanna keep you to myself. Just a little longer.”
His grin splits his face. “Good. Think I might wanna keep you, too.”
He kisses you again. Soft, slow, sensual. Filled with all the words neither of you are brave enough to say out loud. And long enough to leave you breathless.
Until the door opens.
And Zack walks in.
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God I love fratrry 😭💞
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @myalovesharry
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callsign-datura · 2 months
Text
quit talking.
frustrated simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader warnings: smut, obviously. mentions of putting a muzzle on you, not dealing with feelings, unprotected sex, bro is def a tits man (he sucks on em), oral sex (f recieving), light choking, creampieee a/n: 1k? how the hell?? thank you! :)
If there's one thing you know how to do, it's piss Ghost off. It's not really fun to you, it's more of a competitive thing. He's been in this line of work for much longer than you have, but you've been in it for long enough that you should be treated like a valuable ally than an untrained soldier, or a rookie. But for Ghost, that nickname has stuck. "C'mon, rookie, get your head straight."
"Eyes up here, rookie."
"Are you listenin', rookie?"
Your blood boils every time the word slips from his mouth. Every time he does it, you keep yourself from snapping at him. You put a smile on and follow his directions.
But sometimes it isn't so easy.
He orders you around, and tells you what to do; like a lieutenant should. Yet for some reason, you feel your chest tighten when he gives you an order. You know damn well it's a personal issue. Probably some feelings you haven't dealt with yet that you aren't ready to deal with. But you butt heads. You can tell that your defiance pisses him off and the flicker in his eyes makes something in your heart surge; something you tell yourself is satisfaction. Recently, it's been worse... maybe it was the mission last month where you were stuck in a closet together and he couldn't keep his hands to himself, or the fact he acted like it didn't even happen after. Probably both.
---------------------- "Rookie."
That damn nickname again. You snap quickly, against your better judgment; but he can't blame you. It's been a hard day of biting your tongue. "How long have I been on this team, sir?" "Not long enough to be givin' me so much attitude." He snaps back just as quickly, and usually it'd be enough to extinguish that fire, but today, it's not.
"It's been two years." "Two years of you talking' like you've known us for ten. Sorry to burst your bubble," he barks, turning his body to you as you recognize that look in his eye that you shouldn't be messing with him today. "You haven't. I'll keep callin' you 'rookie' until you get that in your head." His arms hang at his sides, his fists idly clenching and releasing as he steps towards you. "You got a problem with that?" Your eyebrows knit together and you tilted your head back as he gets close, his upper body curling to lean over yours and stare you down. Cold, brown eyes staring into yours; something that would normally give you chills. But not today. "Yes, actually, I do. I'm not a rookie anymore, I've been working with you long enough to the point I should have earned the respect I deserve." The words are slipping out. You realize how stupid it sounds and how you should have just been quiet and stopped fighting, but it feels good to get it off your chest. So you keep talking. "I'm a valuable asset to the team. I'm a good medic, a good ground unit, I'm damn good with a knife and I have good survival skills. I think those are grounds for respect from my lieutenant. Everyone else treats me well, but you." He rolls his eyes so strongly that you think it probably hurts. "You wanna know why they treat you well, rookie?" He retorts, his voice low and husky and raspy. His face is inches from yours and your senses are flooded with him; it's almost enough to get you to forget about why you were fighting in the first place. "It's 'cause everyone else knows that bein' nice to you and lettin' you act like a proper twat is better than tryin' to discipline you. You act like a child and they let you because you're too damn stubborn to get through to." The words piss you off again, and you open your mouth to respond, yet nothing comes out. "Don't." He warns. "This is ridiculous."
"Ridiculous? I just want to be respected." "Nobody gives you shit anymore, rookie, but me. It sounds like you're mad that I'm the only person who gives you shit and doesn't let you get off easy."
"Because it's bullshit-" "I only give you shit when you're actin' like this." The glimmer in his eyes changes, and it becomes something you can't entirely put your finger on. "I only give you shit when you're yowlin' about 'not being respected' when you know damn well you are, you're just angry that I'm mean to you." "'Cause you are!"
"I am because I know that's the only way you listen." He says, his voice returning to something stable. "It's like you hate me."
Oh. His eyes flare again, this time with recognition. "That's what this is about? You think I hate you?"
"Well, sometimes..." Your voice lowers and you avoid eye contact with him, trying to focus on anything but the monster of a man in your proximity. "Sometimes it feels like it."
"Really? And that's why you're constantly puttin' up such a fight with me? 'Cause you think I hate you?" His voice turns... amused. Jesus Christ, he's enjoying this. "Yes, and--" You try to retort, but you can't think of anything. Your mind blanks. "And..." Embarrassment burns hot on your cheeks and you shut your eyes. He chuckles quietly. "That's fucked, sweetheart. You're not gonna believe me, even if I talk till I'm blue,"
"As if I could see." You snap, looking away. "...N' even if I talk, you'll interrupt me." He chuckles again. His voice tenses a little as if he's irritated. He grabs your hand and starts leading you somewhere and you start talking again. "I don't know where you get off on being rude like that." He laughs, in disbelief. "I could ask you the same thing." "You haven't said anything to me about that mission," you begin. Your voice is shaky. These are untrod waters, but you want an answer. "Not a damn thing. Not a text, hell, you barely look me in the eyes." "Mm." He responds, his voice higher-pitched, once again with recognition. "So it's that, too." He glances back at you, and you barely even realize where he's leading you until he pushes open the door to his quarters and pushes you inside, stepping in too, and shutting the door behind him. "You're mad about that? That we haven't talked about that?" You open your mouth, but the surprise doesn't let you say anything. So you nod, looking around the room. It's bland. Very... Ghost. "I haven't said anythin' to you about it 'cause even thinkin' about it makes it difficult for me to see you in a professional light." He pauses. "It shouldn't have happened. If anyone finds out, it'd be me taking advantage of you,"
"That wasn't what happened, though. I was asking you--" "Quit." He snaps, his hand coming up to cup your chin and hold your jaw, urging you to stay quiet. "Quit interruptin' me, fuck. You talk a lot, you know that?" His other hand goes to the zipper of your jacket, pulling at it and unzipping it. Your eyes flicker down to watch his hand, and you stay quiet.
He chuckles again and shakes his head, his eyes wide with disbelief and amusement... some mix of the two. "Now you're quiet. When you're gettin' what you want. Dunno what I expected." He lets go of your jaw and pulls your jacket off, tossing it to the side and turning both of you, backing you up against the door.
"I don't hate you... Quite the opposite." He murmurs, his voice softening. You watch as his thumb hooks into the bottom of his mask, pulling it over his nose as he leans in and puts his other hand on your waist. He goes for your neck, and you tilt your head instinctively. More than happy to obey. "It's jus' the fact that this is entirely unethical. No matter how we put it... it's unethical." He kisses the flesh of your neck, lips dancing along the softness there, testing for any sweet spots. He nips when he feels you tremble. "...Now that isn't to say I didn't enjoy it... 'cause I did. I dream about it, pet," his voice shakes and his grip on you tightens. "Fuckin' dream about it."
The vulnerability at this moment makes your body heat up. Warmth is building in your lower stomach, and a soft noise leaves your lips as you tilt your head back against the door. Your back arches as his breath ghosts your neck.
"Dream about you... n' this body, n' your voice, and your whimpers. I look at you, and I remember." He starts kissing your neck again. They're rough, and his breath is hot. You tremble again as his lips travel down, stopping at your collar as he reaches and slips the strap of your undershirt off your shoulder, and kisses the span of flesh that's been uncovered. Tongue darting out, following the contour of your collarbone, teasingly; leaving tingles in its wake that send heat straight to your cunt. "Makes it so goddamn hard to treat you like you're my teammate and not a person who haunts my dreams."
Another noise leaves your lips, and his hands slide up your sides, bringing the fabric of your undershirt with it. You lift your arms to let him, and you lock eyes for a moment. His are sparkling with lust, and he chuckles before his hands travel up your back to unclasp your bra. He pulls it from your body and drops it to the side, and his lips are on your flesh again. He nips at certain spots, nibbling gently and sucking deep marks into the flesh. His kisses go from your collarbone to your breast, and his lips close around your nipple. Your body tenses and goosebumps prickle over the flesh of your chest, and you tilt your head back again, legs pressing together as his hands rub up and down your sides soothingly. His tongue laves over it, sending tingles of pleasure through you as your eyes flutter shut and he grunts against you. His teeth nip at it gently before he releases it, switching sides. His hands slip down your sides and move to your pants, undoing the button of your jeans and tugging them and your panties down around your legs, detaching from your nipple to do so.
His gaze is immediately dragged to your cunt, and he hums low in his throat before he looks up at you. "C'mon, dove. Give me a taste, mm?" He asks, teasingly; but meaning the question entirely. Your expression twists in embarrassment, but your desire for him overrides any hesitation. And you nod. One of his hands cups the underside of your leg, lifting it up and to the side as he litters kisses along the inside of it. Having him so close to you makes your entire body shudder and a moan leaves your lips, your hand coming down to cup his head as you watch him. It's a lewd sight, but the view makes you tingle. He bites down lightly and a whine leaves your lips as you lightly swat his head. He chuckles in response and looks up at you, pulling away from your thigh to litter kisses over your cunt. You're wet enough to the point he can fucking see it; and your face flushes a bit more in embarrassment and you tilt your head back. You shudder, tilting your hips forward and chasing a bit more friction... and he delivers. His tongue darts out, dragging up between your labia to catch your clit. Your body shudders and you give a sharp whine. The feeling is electric, and you already feel something building in your stomach, yet you try to suppress it in turn for just feeling the sensation. His other hand comes up and his thumb pulls at the flesh, lightly spreading you out for his convenience, his lips closing around your clit as he grunts and the vibration of it turns into straight heat and makes you twitch. He sucks gently and you mewl, your hips shifting away from the unfamiliar sensation, forcing him to detach before he pulls you back in and clicks his tongue.
"Come on now, pet. You wanted this, didn't you? Stay still." You whine in affirmation, looking down once again and gasping as he buries his face into you once more. He dips his tongue into you, and his eyes roll briefly as he grunts at the taste of you; something that he'd get addicted to easily. Hell, he's already addicted to you; why not? He pushes his tongue into you for a moment, groaning again. His grip on the underside of your thigh tightens and he brings it upward a bit more, resting it over his shoulder as his hand slips up your tummy, giving the pudge there a little squeeze before he switches his attention to your clit, lapping his tongue over it slowly and gently. Each swipe sends heat into you, your walls clamping around on nothing, moans leaving your lips as he keeps his head buried into you. The sensations are mounting and he laps his tongue a bit faster to elicit more reactions from you.
Your hips buck into the sensation and a squeal leaves your lips. His hand slips back to cup your hip, pulling you further into him as he laps at your clit again and again. The hand keeping your labia spread shifts downward, and you jolt as he presses his middle and pointer finger against your hole, circling the flesh to gather your slick. The movement of his tongue stalls for a moment until he pushes his fingers into you, and he laps again, but much faster this time, grunting out in satisfaction at the way your walls flutter around his fingers and suck them in more. Moans leave your lips and your body tenses up, a cry leaving the moan before you shift down a little to push into his fingers. He curls them, feeling along your inner walls slowly and gently to find that spot that'll make you quiver, and he does; your hips buck again and you cry once more, the pleasure overloading your senses and rendering you to a whimpering mess. He laps away at your clit again, eating like a man starved; curling those two fingers on your g-spot and rubbing his fingertips against it slowly, gently.
The sensation causes the cord in your tummy to tighten. It doesn't take more of his assault to throw you over the edge; he continues, with an increased fervor upon feeling you tense around his fingers and hearing your noises take on a desperate edge. He pulls you closer, grunting into your pussy as you cry out and ball your hands into fists, grinding a little into the friction as your vision goes white and you sob his name. You continue, riding out your orgasm and whimpering his name quietly. His movements stop after your noises quiet, and he withdraws his fingers and pulls back to look up at you, making sure you're looking at him before he pulls his fingers apart; showing you the string of your fluid that connects them between breaking. He chuckles a bit and stands up as he looks you over. Your eyes flutter shut and you whimper softly, tilting your head back. Your body relaxes, but not for long as you hear a zipper being undone. Your eyes open just as he turns you around and pins you against the wall. One hand against the wall between your waist and your arm, his lips on the back of your shoulder as his other hand comes to your waist, pulling back you back against him. You give a surprised noise and he chuckles. "What? D'you think we were done?" You don't respond, and he hums. "Good. 'Cause we aren't." He pushes against you as you arch your back, your eyes widening as you feel his cock pressing against your cunt; a whine leaving your lips before he pulls his hand from your hip to wrap around the base of him, adjusting himself to rest the tip of his cock against your hole, watching as you flutter around him. He chuckles softly at the sight, and puts his hand on your lower stomach, slowly guiding his hips forward. His cock slips into you with ease, and you feel a faint stinging pain from the stretch, but the full feeling his cock gives you distracts you from the pain. It's familiar, almost; like your body remembers how he fit inside you. Your slick coats his cock, making the fit a bit more easy. He groans softly into your ear, the feeling of you around him more than heavenly. "Fuck. S'fuckin tight. Mm... like you were made for me, hm?"
He grunts quietly as he feels you pulse around him, and he tilts his hips slightly, cupping your lower tummy as he grinds into you testingly. A whine leaves your lips, but you don't stop him. The pleasure is overwhelming, and you feel some sort of sense of relief at finally being filled; by him. His breath fans over your shoulder as he grinds into you slowly, rolling his hips into yours; pulling out a bit before pushing forward and rubbing his hips into yours. He continues like this, one hand sliding up your front and wrapping around your throat, a gentle hold that keeps your head still. Your eyes keep shut, eager moans leaving your lips as you push back into him. For a few moments he continues this movement, just reveling in the feeling of your cunt around him before he begins thrusting. Slowly, at the same pace, raking his cock in and out of you, sending shocks of pleasure through you as you tighten a bit around him, eliciting groans from him. His movements speed up and the hand on your lower stomach slips downward, his middle and ring finger rubbing circles over your clit. You lurch a little and give a little cry, still feeling a bit overstimulated from the previous activities.
That sensation leaves almost immediately as he thrusts into you quickly, the sounds of your bodies together filling the room amongst his groans and your squeals. You lift one of your legs, tilting your head against the wall and his grip on your throat tightens as he starts rutting into you; the feeling of you is getting to him as much as the feeling of him is getting to you. Your moans increase in pitch, and your mind is scrambled by the pleasure. Your walls quiver as he continues, bullying into your cunt. He's chasing his high, and the circles he draws on your clit also increase in pace. The cord in your stomach draws taut, signalling your incoming orgasm; you can tell by his pace that he's close too. "Fuck-- Gonna cum." He warns into your shoulder, yet his pace doesn't falter.
You whimper and your chest tightens at the thought of him pulling out; wasting his cum like that. "Inside," you babble out quickly, hands balling into fists against the wall. "Please, inside." You stutter over your words as he continues thrusting into you, but he understands you immediately.
You don't have to say it twice. After a moment, he bucks into you up to the hilt, and a shaky groan leaves his throat as he cums; hot, thick ropes that flood your cunt with his spend. The sensation, mixed with the feeling of him rolling his fingers over your clit is enough to make you cum as well, and you cry out, walls quivering on his cock before tensing, milking him. Your body trembles and he pulls his hands away, holding you close to him, hums of affection leaving his throat as he thrusts into you a few more times before his movements stall. There's a bit of content silence before his voice breaks it. "Still think I hate you?" You pause, then you murmur in response shakily, "Mnh-mnh. Thank you..." "You're welcome, pet. But next time you need my cock, say it instead of being a brat." "Then the next time you dream about me, tell me." "...deal."
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boiohboii · 3 months
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If she's around.
(Lando norris x leclerc!reader)
When lando decides to make a video along with two of his friends for their YouTube channel his girl of course had to make an appearance
or
In which ethan and ginge are always reminded of the fact that they are single.
Masterlist
N.b: just inspired by the new quadrant video, I loved it, obviously I have no idea if ginge or ethan are single or not, but for the purpose of this fic they don't... WARNINGS: not proof read, some swear words here and there (friends jokingly insulting each other), sexual implicantions?.... and I think that's it? If I missed anything else lmk please.
Ethan and Ginge did not think this through. They obviously got too excited about the idea and did not sit down to actually think about the consequences.
What are the consequences? That damn breakfast that Lando Norris is having them eat.
"This is criminal mate, I can see some good fucking food in there."
Ginge complained as he placed the cup underneath his nose, trying to see if the smell is as bad as the food looks.
"Ah no no, I can't give you that."
"Well, why not? It sure as hell doesn't look like you threw it up."
"That's the missus' breakfast, she'll kill me if I let you eat it."
Now, lando was just messing around. Yn was well aware of the fact that his friends were coming over and she prepared extra food in case they deviate from the video's plan.
"The missus?" Ginge asked as he took the spoon from the f1 driver "who is she? And why have I never seen her before?"
"What are you talking about, you've seen her before."
"I think I'd remember if I've seen a girlfriend of yours mate."
"You have ginge." Ethan answered as he looked at the red head "in one of the streams."
Farrowing his eyebrows ginge tried to remember, he was sure he had never seen lando with a girl before, he would definitely remember if- oh. oh. oh.
"No," ginge gasped as he looked at lando with uncertainty "no way mate. She is not your girlfriend."
"Umm, yes she is."
"No she's not."
"Yes, she is!"
"No, no she's not! She is too pretty for you."
Ethan chocked as he looked at Lando's disbelief of what his friend has said.
"Don't look at me like that! You know that she is too pretty for you"
Blinking, lando shrugged in agreement.
"Simp" ginge scoffed as he took a bite out of his breakfast.
"Well, i don't blame him man, have you seen yn."
"Looks like I will double the weights during training" lando has malice behind his smile, which made the two instantly shut up.
Interview room(ANGRYGINGE has a fear of flying)
" I'll be honest, I still believe that yn leclerc is way too pretty for lando. Like yeah sure he's an f1 driver but like aren't 2 of her brothers drivers as well. It would be so funny if they crashed into lando if he pissed her of or made her sad or something, a whole new meaning to the I will run you over threat."
"What time do you go to bed?"
"Ummm, depends."
"On?"
"If the missus is around, dirty bastard." Ginge answered "now, be honest, what time did you go to bed last night?"
"It was, um, it was early."
"You are lying through your teeth mate, I can see those dark circles."
"Hello boys."
"Dirty bastard." Ginge and ethan laughed harder at the coincidence.
"Hello love." Lando chuckled at her confused face as he pecked her forehead.
"What is going on?" Leaning onto his chest, yn looked at the two guests, wondering about their choice of words being the response to her greetings.
"Oh don't worry about it," wrapping his arm around her waist Lando rests his chin on her head " they were just asking if you being with me makes me go to bed at a later time than usual."
"Oh," yn giggled "i guess they're right? Sometimes we stay up reading a book or watching a movie, it depends on what's near us on the bedside table."
"Alright," lando started before taping yn's stomach and pointing to the firdge " you should have your breakfast and we should go back to what we were doing, yeah?"
Humming in agreement, yn turned around and leaned up to give lando a kiss on the cheek, but upon hearing ginge groan, the formula driver grabbed his girlfriend's neck from the front, redirecting her head so that their lips would meet.
"Oh come on mate, no need to rub it in!"
Being in the small makeshift home gym that lando has, the three brits started discussing what exercises they would be doing.
"First we'll start with a warm up, normally there's a few bands" looking around the room, lando tried to remember where he placed them last "they might be in our bedroom."
"How did the workout band made it into the bedroom?" Ethan asked as he started wiggling his eyebrows at ginge.
"Hey sweetheart," Lando's voice could be heard calling out "do you know where my exercise bands are?"
"They're in the bedroom," yn exclaimed "on your bedside table."
Ethan's eyebrows stopped mid movements while ginge's jaw dropped down "went to bed early lando, ehh, yeah yeah sure!"
Monitoring his friends' forms in a workout was not lando thought he would be doing on a day off where yn was with him without one of her brother's breathing down their necks. Speaking of his lovely girlfriend, lando saw her in one of his mclaren shirts and a short in the hallway, on her way to their bedroom he'd assume, with a bowl of what was either watermelons or strawberries.
"Sweetheart," lando spoke, ignoring the task at hand "can I have some please?"
"Of course mon soleil"
Entering the room, yn took a look at both boys before going straight to her boyfriend. Lando's friends were glaring daggers at him as he just placed his hand on the back of yn's hands as she placed a piece of watermelon in his mouth, making him hum pleasantly at the sweetness that filled his mouth.
"This is so unfair." Ginge complained
"I know mate, such bullshit, we should get to eat that as well."
"Yeah sure." lando agreed as yn placed another piece in his awaiting mouth.
"Well, now you're just being a dick. Come on yn, I want some as well."
"Are you asking my girl to feed you?"
"You're not letting me out of this workout anytime soon now, are you?"
"I think you should add weights onto their backs," yn stated as she smiled innocently at ginge and ethan "Charles, Arthur and Enzo always fo that to each other for the hell of it."
"Oh, you are evil miss leclerc, truly evil."
Ethan watched as lando told ginge to not lean with the weights pushing his neck, it was tough and they only had like a third of what lando usually does.
"So, who usually does this with you? Like you have to have someone to like push the weights, right?"
"Yeah yeah, usually it's my trainer, but then when something comes up or I just feel like training on my own it's yn who's helping."
"Oh look at him just rubbing it in that he has a girlfriend."
"Oh god," lando laughed in disbelief "you're the one who asked."
"The important question is," ginge started as he removed the equipment from his forehead "can yn do this? Like the neck training."
Lando stayed quite, thinking if he'd ever seen his girlfriend doing it or if her or her brothers ever mentioned that she does it. "No, I don't think so. Hold on."
Leaving the room, lando headed into the bedroom having a quick discussion away from the camera and the mics.
"So," lando said as he entered the room with yn behind him "yn will be doing the neck training, we'll go with 5 kilos."
"How about 10?" Yn asked as she took a seat on the bench
"What?"
"Well, for a while charles was convinced I'd get into a car crash and he took me training with him for like a year or something, it was insane."
"I'm sorry, what?"
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xanaxspritz · 3 months
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𝙙𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙨 ♡
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚𝙖𝙠𝙖 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙'𝙨 𝙙𝙖𝙙˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
cw: bf!megumi, college AU, cheating, breeding, possible impregnation, cowgirl
an: I put cw here for a reason, so if this work makes you uncomfortable in any sort of way or if you're a minor, please do not interact. this is a work of fiction and what i write here does not reflect my own values or experiences.
ʚ♡ɞ˚
megumi was a sweet boyfriend. he sent good morning texts daily, was always ready to drop everything if you were in need across campus, and even warmed up to pda because you liked it so much. you couldn't ask for anything better.
but his father was a different story. undeniably a dilf, you couldnt help but to stare at the way his arms bulged out of his compression shirt he always wore, hugging his torso just right to show off his abs. you couldnt but to take a peak at his lap when lounged in grey sweats, watching TV with his legs spread wide open, as if he was daring you to take a seat on top.
it didn't help that he would stare at you, every time you visited megumi at home. the heat of his eyes lingering a bit too long on you heated up something dark within you.
the tension between you and toji kept rising and rising, until one day you went to the fushiguro residence to retrieve something you left. you find toji in the kitchen, eating his lunch, his lips curling up into a smirk when he sees you.
"megumi ain't here you know" he says food still in his mouth.
"i know. just forgot something," you say nervously.
"was it this?" he takes out neon pink panties from his pocket. you are mortified.
"oh my god. im so sorry mr. fushiguro. i promise i'll never-"
"always knew you're a little slut. i can always tell with little girls like you"
"what? what do you mean?" you feel your face grow hotter.
"don't pretend like you aren't, " he chuckled. "always teasing me with those super short skirts barely covering your ass. i can even see your pushup bra through your shirt." you cross your arms instinctively. "i didn't think megumi had it in him," he continued. "but it seems like you've got him wrapped around your finger."
you were speechless. was mr. fushiguro actually hitting on you?
"tell me doll, is he good enough for you? is he fucking you right?"
by this point toji rose up from his chair, inching closer to you until youre back up on the kitchen counter. you can something on the side of your thigh.
"y-yes mr. fushiguro, he's a great boyfriend. i-i couldn't ask for any better," the wetness you can feel in your panties betrays your words.
"hm, is that so?" his hands wandering behind you to squeeze your plump ass. he snaps your panty band before feeling up between your legs.
"already wet f'me you dirty slut," leaning down closely to your, lips centimeters apart. "how naughty."
you crash your lips into his desperately, weeks of sexual tension building up to a make out session. his lips are surprisingly soft, and his breath is a comforting smell of tobacco. "call me toji," he nuzzles into your neck.
one thing turns into another and you found yourself in the master bedroom, bouncing on top of toji's huge cock.
"that good baby, keep riding me just like that," he whispers slapping and grabbing your ass. "i bet he doesn't fuck you like i do, ain't that right?"
"n-no mr. fushiguro!"
"i thought I told you to call me toji," he narrowed his eyes, picking up the pace faster.
your moans get louder as his thick, fat cock pounded you. his heavy balls slapped against your ass, you close your eyes in pure bliss, your tits bouncing in his face.
"i wonder what would happened if i filled you up with this daddy dick. think megumi would notice you pregnant with my baby, hm?"
the thought of toji cumming in you was exhilarating, you quickly nod your head yes, holding him tighter as he digs his fingers into your hips.
he laughs at your eagerness. "figured a little whore like you would love it. fuck- are you ready?"
you feel his warm cum filling you up as toji grunts. his load is thick and creamy, the excess dripping down your thighs.
he quickly replaces his cock with his fingers, plugging the cum inside you, keeping you nice and full.
"you're a good fuck," he sighs. "no wonder megumi keeps you around."
right, megumi. how would you even begin explaining to this to him? should you even tell him? the overwhelming guilt consumes your thoughts.
toji notices the visible worry you're sporting on your face. "hey doll, don't worry. I'm not gonna tell him," he reassures. "as long as you don't either. just keep coming back when he's not home so I can cum inside that pretty pussy again."
1K notes · View notes
angelwonie · 1 year
Text
X + Y = YOU AND I || jeon wonwoo
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PAIRING: academic rival!wonwoo x fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 8.6k
GENRE(S): smut, fluff, rivals to lovers, college au
SUMMARY: you wish jeon wonwoo would sometimes act like an insufferable prick instead of the perfect guy, because then you wouldn't have to feel your head spinning each time he looks at you.
WARNINGS: SMUT [unprotected sex, fingering, use of petnames (baby, good girl), praise, some degradation, sex in an empty classroom] wonwoo is so in love
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Class discussions where both Wonwoo and you are involved never end well. 
Partly, it’s because none of you possess the ability of backing down from a fight, but mostly it’s because of Wonwoo’s annoying tendencies of having read all the books in the world, which allows him to criticize every word that comes out of your mouth. 
Which again leaves you with no choice but to get angry and argue even more vividly — though Soonyoung claims that’s just your own stubbornness making matters worse. 
He doesn’t get it, though. The desire to beat Wonwoo at his own game each time he opens his mouth. It’s something you can’t entirely explain, but it keeps you grounded, and so you don’t question it too much. The adrenaline that comes along with it is enough for you. 
And that’s exactly what keeps you going today — Wonwoo’s annoying takes on social anthropology.
“I just don’t think cultural differences are the root of conflicts.”
He says this and shrugs, eyes subconsciously drifting to the side to look at you. As expected, you’re already raising your hand to comment on his statement and he has to fight the urge to smile. Despite coming in tired, eyes drooping, you’re eager to partake in a discussion with him. Always. It’s a little too reassuring to think about, so he stops, and instead focuses on what you’re saying. 
“That’s a baseless claim to make,” you scoff, and again, he feels his lip twitch, almost forming a smile. “Of course they are. No differences means nothing to fight about.”
“Yes, in theory,” he says, and his eyes crinkle with the smile he offers you. A smile you can’t seem to tell if is cocky or genuine. “But cultural differences aren't everything. If we don’t have culture, people will still form opinions. And those opinions will still become the roots of conflicts.”
With those words, he crosses his arms over his chest, his elbow bumping into you. 
You’re not sure who came up with the idea of the two of you sitting together in the classroom, but moments like these make you want to find that person and rip their hair out. Because in what universe should you have to argue with Jeon Wonwoo while his shoulder is literally touching yours? 
It’s stupid, unethical, and every other derogatory term you can come up with, but most of all, it’s making it hard to focus. Obviously, it’s not about him, it’s about the closeness itself. You think. Probably. 
You lean a bit to your left so you can actually think of a response, but end up sighing and asking a question instead. 
“So you’re saying conflicts are inevitable?”
He tongues his cheek – a sign that he’s in deep thought – and bumps his elbow into you again. An accident, probably, but it catches your attention nevertheless. 
“I’m saying disagreements become conflicts because we can’t handle our emotions. It’s not differences that are the problem, it’s our way of handling them.”
And there it is — that twinkle in his eyes that signalizes he knows he’s won. You know it, too, from the way he leans back into his chair and your words die down in your throat and the professor nods his head approvingly. Still, you wish he wouldn’t be so fucking happy about it.
“Asshole,” you mumble only loud enough for him to hear as you sink back into the chair. 
He chuckles and you feel your insides turn. God, he’s annoying. Super annoying. 
Especially when he leans a bit to your side of the desk, face a lot closer to yours than it needs to be when he whispers, “Good job.” 
You glare at his soft expression, your own face heating up in something resembling embarrassment. 
“No need to gloat about your success, dickhead.”
“I’m not gloating,” he frowns, the smile slowly fading from his face.
“Sure you aren’t. You’re just kindly reminding me that you’re better than me.”
“That’s not what– That’s not true.”
His voice falters, and he leans back in his chair and taps his pen against the desk. You scoff at him, but it’s nowhere as threatening as you’d like it to be — thrown off by the quiver in his tone. 
“It is true,” you whisper, more to yourself, and avert your gaze from him. 
The professor picks up where he left off, and you let your thoughts scatter and eyes drift closed. It’s been a long day, you think. Thankfully, the professor’s got you and Wonwoo placed in the back, and so he doesn’t notice it when you manage to fall asleep in your chair, head falling to the side. 
Wonwoo notices, though. Your cheek squished against your shoulder, hair in your face. It’s not the first time you’ve fallen asleep in class, and he should probably start scolding you for it, but seeing your under eye bags and hearing your tired voice makes something turn unpleasantly in his stomach. And so he lets you sleep. 
(It’s all because of his perceptiveness.
You know about this trait of his, and it’s awful. How he hands you a pen when you’ve forgotten your own without you having to ask for it. How he knows when to shut up during an argument, because your face tells him he’s won. How he never feels the need to embarrass you, or anyone, for that matter.
He’s a good person in and out, and you hate him for it.) 
It’s not before the class is nearing its end that Wonwoo decides to wake you. 
“Y/N,” you feel a hand on your shoulder, shaking you awake, and then a deep voice hits your ears. Wonwoo’s voice, you realize instantly, and then criticize your heart for jumping at the thought. “You might wanna wake up for this.”
“Huh?” 
Wonwoo’s smiling at you softly, and you sit up straight, confused. At least until you see your professor clutching his phone against his ear, muttering aggressively.
“His wife called,” Wonwoo explains in a hushed tone, leaning towards you so you hear him better. “I feel kinda bad for the guy. She doesn’t seem to like him very much.”
You rub your eyes and yawn, then realize Wonwoo is sitting right there, and clear your throat. 
“Maybe he’s an asshole.”
“Maybe,” he turns to look at you. “Girls like assholes, though, don’t they? 
Your breath hitches in your throat involuntarily. You’re not sure whether it’s from the question or from the way he’s looking at you – like he’s already got you all figured out – but it’s making you nervous. All of it, him. And now that you’re discussing a topic you’re not certain about, it shows. 
You chuckle nervously, “Where’d you get that from?”
“You, mostly.”
“Excuse me?”
He offers you a smile, one that you subconsciously accept by feeling your insides turn to mush. This has got to be the longest you’ve spoken to him without mutual friends around, and without arguing. Truthfully, you don’t hate it. You’d never have thought that this would be the topic of your first ever civil conversation, though. 
“Minghao? Seungkwan? Your type’s pretty obvious.”
“Do you spy on me or something?” you ask, a little baffled he knows the names of your previous boyfriends. You weren’t hiding it or anything, but Wonwoo’s never shown much interest in you outside of class. “Plus, that was months ago.” 
He fixes his glasses and tilts his head to the side.
“Yeah? And what type of guys do you like now?”
You open your mouth to answer, but the words die down in your throat. Not assholes, you could say. He’s sparked your curiosity, though — what type of guys do you like now? Because you know for a fact that you’re done with assholes, which is why you’ve been trying your hardest to classify Wonwoo as one up until now. 
“I–”
You’re saved from answering his question by your professor, who’s successfully hung up on his wife and is now announcing that class is over. 
A sigh of relief escapes past your lips — another thing that doesn’t go unnoticed by Wonwoo, but he doesn’t push. He simply gathers his stuff, his pen that you borrowed included, and slings his bag over his shoulder. You smile at him, softly, a little hesitantly, because it feels right to do so.
His glasses rest at the tip of his nose as he stands up and says, “See you around, Y/N.”
Then, he walks off and you no longer fight the smile that makes its way to your face. 
“Okay, so I think we all know why this meeting is being held.”
This is the first thing Soonyoung says as he sits down by the round table in the cafeteria, latte almost spilling out of his cup. You and Minjeong perch up in curiosity, and she puts her phone away in favor of commenting Soonyoung’s poor word choices. 
“Meeting? It’s our lunch break, dude.”
“Yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes at Minjeong who snickers. “This lunch break is being held because–”
“–Because we need to eat?” you raise a brow. 
“Y/N, you are literally in no position to act all smart right now. It’s you that we need to talk about.”
“Me?”
You look to Minjeong, but she only shrugs, meaning that this is a Soonyoung thing. You try racking your brain to find what the hell he might want to discuss, but nothing comes to you. Not even when Soonyoung offers you one of his signature smirks that signalize he’s up to no good. 
“You, and hot nerd Jeon Wonwoo.”
Your mouth falls open in genuine shock. “Wonwoo?”
“Did you just call him ‘hot nerd’?” Minjeong slaps her hand over her mouth as she laughs, but stops when she sees you glaring at her. “Damn, okay, someone’s defensive.”
“Yes, Wonwoo,” Soonyoung leans over the table, hands together on the table like some sort of Hollywood detective. “What’s the deal with you and him?”
“What deal?” you look to the side for some help, but all Minjeong offers you is a smirk. She’s enjoying this a little too much for your liking. “Why are you looking at me like that? There’s no deal. We don’t get along, that’s all.”
“You sure looked like you got along yesterday,” Soonyoung giggles like a little schoolgirl, and you feel your face heating up. Of course he noticed, even though you barely talked with Wonwoo for three minutes. “Also, have you seen how he looks at you?”
“Like he wants to kill me?”
“Like he wants to kiss you. You’re mistaking passion for hate, babe. Or maybe you’re just pretending, because there’s no way you’re not seeing how cute you are together.”
“Me and Wonwoo?” you ask again, incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding. There’s no way.”
“You have to admit, he’s pretty hot,” Minjeong cuts in. “Plus, you guys have, like, undeniable chemistry.”
“The only chemistry me and him share is the class. Which already sucks enough.”
“You know what they say, denial is a river in egypt.” 
“Nobody says that, Minjeong,” you glare at her, deciding that it’s better to get out of here before you start doubting yourself. “Anyway, I gotta go to class, so get those Wonwoo delusions out of your heads, okay? Because that’s what this is — delusion.”
“Funny you had to clarify that.”
“Just because you’re insufferable,” you send them a painfully fake smile and grab your things so you can walk away, almost missing the words Soonyoung mutters under his breath. 
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
Usually, you can’t be found in the university’s backyard ripping your hair, but usually, you also don’t fail your chemistry exams. 
You might be acting a tad bit dramatic, running out of class and sitting down on the grass with your back pressed against the stone cold wall to cool off, but that’s something to worry about later. Right now you’re just focused on feeling sorry for yourself. Which you are. To a very high degree. 
“Are you okay?”
You jump at the sudden intrusion to your self-wallowing, turning around only to be met with a familiar face. His glasses are high up on his nose and his hair is neat, smile lines nowhere to be seen.
“Wonwoo?” you ask, a bit embarrassed that he’s seeing you in this state, especially when he looks so put together. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I read here every free period,” he says, frowning. “It’s you that should be in class right now.”
“Do you have my schedule memorized or something?” you look at him accusingly, pulling your legs closer to your chest for comfort. “Anyway, I’m just sitting here.”
Wonwoo’s silent for a moment, pondering on what to do, and then he takes a step in your direction. You don’t run away or protest, so he takes another one and another one until he’s close enough to sink down on the grass next to you. 
“You look more like you’re drowning in sadness.”
“Yeah, well, I failed an exam, so,” you say and hand him the paper your hands gripped just a moment ago — your test with every mistake highlighted in red. The whole sheet might’ve just been red at this point, you think. 
He examines it, brows furrowed, then hands it back. “Chemistry? I thought you were good at that, though.”
Your heart falters in embarrassment.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. That’s why I’m fucking sad.”
You don’t mean for it to sound so angry, but it comes out harsh and bitter. It’s nothing like Wonwoo’s used to hearing you speak. And what comes after shocks him even more — the tears that well up in your eyes and then fall, he can see them even as you turn away from him, perhaps in fear of judgement. 
“Wait,” he says, a little dumbfounded. “Are you crying?”
It’s a stupid question, but his tone isn’t judging. Still, it doesn't ease anything — you feel like you’re about to explode. And what’s worse is that he’s here, Jeon Wonwoo, of all people, watching you cry over something so miniscule that he probably can’t even relate to. You’re not sure why it bothers you so much that he’s seeing you in this state, but it does, it really does bother you, so much you feel like you might die. 
“Yes, I’m crying, Wonwoo,” you say, wiping your cheeks to your best ability. “Jesus christ. I did badly on a test, so I already feel like shit, and then you always have to come up to me with those stupid comments of yours.”
He blinks in surprise from behind his glasses, and even through your bitterness, you think to yourself that he looks cute like that — confused, for the very first time. At least it’s the very first time you are seeing him like this. But, to be fair, this is his very first time seeing you like this, too. 
“I thought you liked it when I'm mean to you, though,” he says finally, and you look at him in disbelief.
“Wonwoo, are you seriously just here to imply I have a degradation kink?” 
He remains silent for a minute, hesitating.
“Great.” 
You laugh through the tears that have now stopped falling, and Wonwoo exhales in something that resembles relief. His gaze is still set on you, unrelenting, like he’s still trying to put together the puzzle. Does he want to leave? 
A part of you hopes he won’t. Because despite that it’s a bit embarrassing, you could use someone to talk to right now. Even if it’s just so you can get your frustration out somehow. 
“What I’m trying to say is,” he starts, choosing his words carefully. “I didn't mean it like that. I never do.”
You meet his gaze – soft eyes that remain otherwise unreadable – and let out a breathy chuckle. 
“Yeah, whatever.”
You kick one of the stones in front of you, and watch it bounce a couple of times before it settles a little further away. Wonwoo doesn’t leave, even though you’re giving no signs of continuing the conversation. He just sits there, shoulder a centimeter or two from yours, and listens to both your breaths. Both uneven — his is nervous, while yours is upset. 
“I’m serious, Y/N,” he says finally, catching you off guard just enough for you to turn in his direction again. “If I ever cross the line, tell me. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He bites his lip awkwardly as you feel your heart dropping to your stomach. It’s silent for a while, the back of your throat burning — threatening that you might start crying again if you say something now. 
He pushes his glasses further up his nose, and that’s when you decide to take the leap. Leap meaning that you lean forward to engulf him in a hug, your head coming to rest on his shoulder. 
It catches him off guard, you can tell. His muscles tense, breath caught up in his throat and your own heart beats so fast you think you might die. But it feels nice, hugging him. And it feels even nicer when he wraps his arms around you, too, albeit hesitantly. 
You stay like that, bathing in his scent – peach and jasmine with a hint of something you can’t quite identify – and somehow, you feel at peace. The test is still at the back of your head, obviously, bugging you, but it’s faint compared to Wonwoo and his hand that begins to slowly stroke your hair. 
“Thank you.”
The words are whispered into the crook of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. 
They’re so quiet he barely hears them, might’ve mistaken them for a hiccup hadn’t he paid complete attention, but he is. He is paying attention. To how your muscles loosen up in his arms and there are no longer tears soaking through his shirt; how his own heart beats a little faster than usual; how he’s so painfully aware of the fact that talking to you only makes him like you more.
More meaning that he’s afraid he might be advancing from the useless crush he���d developed watching you argue with him during class. Advancing into uncharted territory that he’s never even intended exploring. Though he supposes he sabotaged himself by approaching you today. 
“It’s nothing.”
But it’s a lie. It is something — the butterflies in your stomach or the warmth spreading across Wonwoo’s chest. Whatever you want to regard it as, it is something. 
And that something settles in the very depths of your mind and his mind alike. 
When Soonyoung announces that he’s bringing Wonwoo to come study with you and Minjeong in the library, your first instinct is to tell him you’re not coming. 
Obviously, you’re embarrassed. And scared. And a million other things you can’t even begin to describe with words. He saw you crying, after all. Jeon Wonwoo, top of the class, saw you crying over a bad grade. It really doesn’t get much worse than that. 
Still, you go. Mostly because you know staying at the dorm would spark questions from your nosy friends, but also because you don’t want Wonwoo thinking you’re avoiding him. Or else he’s going to think you care — which, essentially, you do. But he doesn’t have to know that. 
“Do you think Wonwoo will laugh at me if I get the questions wrong?” Minjeong asks as you stand outside the door to the library, her hand on the handle.
“No,” you say. “He’s not like that.”
She opens the door, and you walk inside, met with the smell of books. Soonyoung and Wonwoo are sitting by the chess boards, talking, and you feel something turn in your stomach. Is it too late to leave now? Judging by Minjeong’s worried face, she isn’t so keen on being here either. Maybe you could both just go home.
Yet when she bites her lip and asks, “Are you sure?”, you can’t bring yourself to lie just so you won’t have to face him.
“Yeah. You should ask him to teach you if you don’t understand something, you know. Better to feel a little embarrassed than to fail an exam.”
“I guess you’re right.”
Just as she says this, Soonyoung catches your gaze and waves eagerly, urging you and Minjeong to come closer. He whispers something to Wonwoo, and he, too, turns to smile in your direction.
“Guess there’s no backing out now,” Minjeong giggles and you nod your head. There really isn’t. 
The two of you make your way to the table where the boys are sitting and pick your chairs. Minjeong’s quick to sit next to Soonyoung, so you’re left with no other option but to plop down on the chair closest to Wonwoo. Normally, that would’ve only mildly annoyed you, but now, three days after he saw you bawling your eyes out, you can feel your heartbeat speed up vastly.
“Hey,” Wonwoo says and you almost jump. You’re not sure why, but you hadn’t expected him to speak to you first. 
“Hi,” you reply and try smiling at him. Thankfully, he smiles, too. “What are you guys studying?”
“Chemistry,” he says, and upon seeing you wince, he’s quick to add, “‘Cause Soonyoung’s struggling with it. He asked me to teach him.”
You have to bite back a smile at his worried tone. “Ah, I see.”
He fixes his glasses, and clears his throat.
“It’s a really tricky subject, though, so I understand why you– uh, he, finds it troublesome.”
“Right,” you nod your head with a giggle, and you can almost feel Soonyoung’s stare burning into your side. It’s fine, though, because now, Wonwoo looks the slightest bit more relaxed. 
You pull out your notebooks and textbook along with a coffee you’d made earlier, and when Wonwoo says your notes look pretty, you can’t help but grin. You kind of wish he weren’t so nice to you, but it doesn’t make you feel awkward, so you suppose you don’t have much room to complain. 
It’s probably just reality catching up to you that’s making you nervous — the fact that he’s not so argumentative outside of class, and that you definitely felt something pull at the very bottom of your heart that day you failed the exam. That, and how the feeling isn’t giving any signs of leaving soon.
You let those thoughts wander as you start making notes, and soon enough, even Soonyoung goes quiet, occupied by his own stuff. It stays like that for a while, and at some point, Wonwoo’s knee bumps into yours. Warmth spreads all across you and you look at him. 
“Sorry,” he whispers apologetically, retracting his leg, and the warmth subsides. In return you send him a smile in which you hope he can’t glimpse your slight – and unsettling – disappointment. 
“It’s okay.”
And then it’s silent again, your body painfully aware of the fact that if you lean your leg a bit to the right you’ll touch Wonwoo. It’s not like you want to touch him, at least you don’t think you do, but the awareness is slightly nerve-wracking for some unknown reason. Everything about him is.  
“Wonwoo,” Minjeong says, breaking the silence, making both his and your heads shoot up to look at her. “Y/N told me you could help me if I asked, so… I was wondering if you could explain biomolecules to me.”
“Of course.”
A quick smile flashes in your direction and then he’s leaning over the table to help Minjeong. His fingers follow the illustrations in her textbook and he starts talking — something about structure, you think. You listen intently, and it makes sense even though you’ve barely started the chapter, but you can’t bring yourself to take notes of what he’s saying. Can’t bring yourself to take your eyes off of him.
You wonder silently if he always was this handsome. You try to think of the times you spoke to him in class before, but it’s hard to recall his face in any other form than what your eyes meet now — focused gaze, lips moving to the rhythm of his voice. His glasses are slowly sliding down his nose, and you feel an immeasurable urge to push them up, but he beats you to it. 
“Basically, they’re essential for cell division to happen,” he says, and you lean forward to look at the picture he’s pointing to.
Your shoulder bumps into his and he turns to the side. You notice, but don’t react in fear that you’ll just end up giggling like a schoolgirl. Instead, you pretend to read some of the text in the book. 
Wonwoo picks up where he left off, voice a little hoarser than before, but you don’t move. Neither does he.
“Can you say that again?” you ask after he says something you don’t understand. 
He repeats with his head turned in your direction, and your eyes drift down to his lips. You don’t want them to, it just happens, your stomach tying into a tight knot. You’re almost entirely sure nobody is supposed to look this hot while talking about biomolecules. Or was it morphogenesis? You honestly don’t know. 
You don’t know why you feel like this with him of all people. Truly, there could be a lot of factors playing into it. The fact that he’s a smooth talker; the fact that he’s both intelligent and knowledgeable; the fact that you’ve grown to know him — what makes his blood boil and what makes him chuckle; the fact that he’s a constant in a sea of variables. 
Maybe that last point especially. That even when everything else goes to hell, the moment you step into social anthropology class, he’s always there. Always willing to entertain you with, albeit sometimes pointless, banter. 
You don’t even know what this is, though. Feeling your head spin when you look at him, having mini heart attacks when he says your name — are these the signs of you going insane? It could very well be that, you think. Insanity feels like the right word to explain your state right now. 
“Y/N,” he says, breaking you out of your thoughts. “You listening?”
Your eyes drift back to his own, and you swear you see a glimpse of amusement playing in his gaze when you mumble a quiet “Yeah.”
Suddenly very aware of Soonyoung and Minjeong’s presence, as well as Wonwoo’s burning stare, you stand up, dusting off your clothes.
“I just need some fresh air,” you offer as an explanation. 
“Mind if I join?”
You look at Wonwoo in disbelief as he asks the question. What the fuck? You don’t mind – at least in the sense that implies you don’t like his company – but it’s the same issue again; he makes you nervous. Goodbye to going for a relaxing walk, you suppose. And goodbye to whatever left there is of your sanity. 
After what seems like hours of overthinking, you decide to get your shit together and send him a smile paired with a nod. Minjeong raises a brow in your direction, but doesn’t inquire further and internally you thank her for that. You’re not sure what you would’ve told her if she asked. 
You and Wonwoo leave the library together, shoulders close together just like when you were sitting, and you swallow the lump in your throat. 
“Everything okay?” he asks as you leave the building. “You seem a little dazed.”
The air is still cold, though winter is nearing its end and spring is slipping through the cracks. You pull your jacket closer to your body in hopes of both warming yourself up and slowing down your heartbeat, but it only fulfills one of those wishes, leaving you to deal with the latter yourself. 
“I’m alright,” you respond with a soft smile. “Thank you for helping Minjeong, by the way. You’re a great teacher.”
Wonwoo’s smile lines shyly make an appearance. “Thanks. I’ve been thinking about becoming a real one, actually.”
You stop walking and turn your head in disbelief. Somehow, you didn’t expect that answer. Wonwoo was always a diligent student, but now that you come to think of it, he never really talked about his plans for the future, or what he wanted to do with his degree in chemical engineering. 
“Seriously?” 
“Yeah,” his cheeks redden ever so slightly. “Teaching chemistry honestly doesn’t sound that bad.”
You take a moment to think it through — him, in a suit and those glasses that fall down his nose, teaching kids about biomolecules. The idea is foreign, and yet, it fits just right. 
You nudge him with your shoulder. “Professor Jeon, huh? It would suit you.”
He lets out a snort of laughter that sounds nothing like the small chuckles you’d hear from him during class. But it sounds nice, this loud laughter and you bathe in it for as long as it lasts. You’re starting to enjoy this whole ‘being kind to each other’ thing. Suits you better than yelling about something stupid in class. It suits him better, too. 
Content with everything, you begin walking again and he follows suit. The grass is a little wet from yesterday’s rain and outgrown as it is, it tickles your ankles. It might’ve been mildly annoying if you weren’t so stupidly happy for whatever reason.  
Whatever reason being Wonwoo, of course. You might be bad at chemistry, but you like to think you’re not dumb — at least not in an oblivious way. It’s become quite obvious, you think, that you like him. 
The thought partly makes you want to kick your feet in the air and partly, it makes you want to rip your hair out. You like Wonwoo. It’s something so unexpected it makes you feel very bare as you stand there on the grass outside of your university, with your cold hands buried in the pockets of your jacket and Wonwoo’s eyes glimmering in the faint sunlight. 
You like him. God, it feels weird to admit. 
“About that day…” Wonwoo’s voice brings you back to reality, and you take a second to register what he’s saying.
“I freaked you out, didn’t I?” you ask. 
“No, no, it’s not that,” he looks away and sighs softly, only to look directly at you the next second. “I just wanted to make sure you remember that one mistake doesn’t make you a failure. I should’ve said it earlier, but that day I was a bit… taken aback, I suppose. Not by the crying, obviously, but by the whole situation. And you.” 
“Me,” you repeat, tasting the word on your tongue. Your heart starts beating a little faster, despite your best efforts at staying calm. He’s just talking after all; it’s not like this is some sort of love confession.
“Not in a bad way. Just in a new way,” he’s quick to assure you and you feel your heart swell in your chest. 
“New. You make it sound so pretty.”
You laugh a bit, looking down on your hands. It. Does he even know what you mean? Does he know you’re talking about the fact that you’re slowly but surely starting to fall in love with him? Or is he just talking about seeing you vulnerable the other day? 
“What would you call it?” he asks and you can’t stop your gaze from drifting back to him.
“I don’t know, confusing? And kind of insane.”
You swear his eyes drop to your lips for a mere second at that. He doesn’t say anything, just walks by you in silence, and it drives you crazy. You wish he’d say something – anything – just so you’d know if you’re even on the same page, but you don’t rush him. 
Finally, he smiles at you. 
“If insanity is losing control, then yes, I suppose I’m going insane. But it doesn’t feel all that insane to me.”
His eyes crinkle, soft streaks of sun painted across his face and you almost sigh. In delight, relief, or maybe fear, you’re not sure, but it’s those words, you think, that will linger. Those are the types of words to never abandon your mind, you’re sure of it. 
“Did you rehearse this in front of the mirror or something?” you scoff at him, heart heavy in your chest. 
He only laughs, and the sound stays in the air for a long time after you’ve left. 
To say you were shocked to see Jeon Wonwoo sitting outside of his dorm with his head in his hands would be a major understatement. 
You had grown closer to him in the past weeks — walking shoulder to shoulder around campus; him helping you with your homework — it all would’ve seemed unlikely had someone proposed the idea to you a month prior, but now, you had grown to truly enjoy his company. And he enjoyed yours, too. 
In some ways, it stayed normal. 
Comments and half-mean, half-endearing remarks remained untouched; what didn’t was your heart. It seems to be working against you at all times, beating too quickly when Wonwoo unexpectedly smiled in your direction, and dropping down to your stomach in fear whenever you saw him tippling over in emotion, only for the feeling to fade to the sound of his laugh.
This time, though, it doesn’t fade, only intensifies as you hear him curse under his breath. 
“Wonwoo?” you try, and his shoulders tense ever so slightly. 
You watch as he sighs, rubbing his eyes, then sits up straight, back against the wall. He doesn’t respond, even as his eyes, frail as ever, look into yours. They’re a bit darker than usual, and his lashes flutter as he blinks up at you. 
There’s no one in the hallway, as if this part of the school emptied just to grant you a moment of privacy; a deciding moment, something in your stomach tells you. 
“What’s happened?” you ask softly, quietly, unsure of what else to do with this obviously unhappy Jeon Wonwoo that’s sitting on the ground in front of you. 
“It’s nothing,” he mumbles in response, leaning on his arms to stand up. “Just some school stuff.”
The corners of his mouth lift in a small smile, but you call his bullshit. You don’t necessarily doubt the genuinity of his smile, but the way he said it makes you think there is something that happened. 
Taking a step in his direction, you nudge him with your elbow. 
“What, the golden boy failed a test for the first time in his life?”
His eyes change at that — soft crinkles appearing at the very edges of them. His shoulders relax, too, and though it’s barely visible, you see it clearly. The air feels a lot lighter when he tongues his cheek and nudges you back. 
“You sure run your mouth a lot, Y/N,” he grins and you feel butterflies flapping around in the very pits of your stomach. Then the smile fades to be replaced with a faux scolding look as he says, “I suggest you stop.” 
You move to stand right in front of him, arms crossed over your chest. He’s taller, and you have to tilt your chin to look him right in the eyes as you giggle with a hint of playfulness in your gaze. 
“Or what?”
He sees the smile playing on your face, the giddiness in your tone, and his heart bangs loudly against his chest. You look gorgeous today — well, that’s nothing new but it never ceases to amaze him how you can look prettier for each day that goes by.
Is this it? Is this when he’s supposed to make a move, like Soonyoung told him to? What does even ‘make a move’ mean, exactly? 
He supposes it varies — just like the value of variables in the equations he solves so often. 
Then how come he can’t solve this one?
You’re still standing there, looking at him without a care in the world, and he thinks that he’d never forgive himself if he screwed this up. At the same time, it doesn’t seem like you’re ready to run away from him, and so perhaps making a move doesn’t sound so stupid right now. 
“Or,” he starts, and lets his eyes glide down to your lips for a moment to test the waters. You don’t scream in fear, and he takes it as a good sign. “I’m gonna have to make you.”
You giggle. “Yeah? And how exactly are you gonna do that, big boy?” 
He feels his stomach turning upside down, squeezed by some invisible force and he has to remind himself to breathe. Is he really going through with this? Don’t start something you can’t end, Soonyoung would probably tell him. For once listening to his advice seems reasonable. 
“Like this.”
And before he can even think of backing out, he brings the palms of his hands to cup your face and leans down, placing his lips against yours. 
Taken aback, you let out a startled noise, eyes growing wide. He hesitates upon seeing your reaction, about to pull away when you finally kiss him back, tongue swiping over his lower lip ever so slightly. 
A groan. Then, he’s bringing his hand to the back of your head and pulling you towards him, kissing you until your head starts to spin, and kissing you through that, too. 
Your arms hold onto his shoulders for support, cheek leaning into his touch. Your noses touch clumsily; teeth clash when you open your mouth to let him explore it. Still, it feels like heaven and you can’t bring yourself to pull away for a breath. 
Wonwoo, though, the more sensible one of you two, pulls back after a while, a smile on his lips and breath ragged.  
You look at him — waiting for him to pick up where he left off, but he doesn’t move.
“That’s it?” you ask, and for a brief moment, all color drains from Wonwoo’s face. Did you not like it? Did he do something wrong?
“What do you mean?”
“You’re just going to leave me hanging like that?”
Your lip pulled between your teeth, you look at home expectantly, heart still hammering against your ribs. Truly, it’s not just about wanting more – though that plays a part in it, too – it’s also about whether this was a one-time-thing.
“Was it not enough for you?” he asks, tilting his head to the side after he’s calmed his racing heart. 
“Considering I’ve been waiting for this, like, a month,” you say. “not really, no.”
He smiles down on you — that same smile that makes you weak in the knees, and you know there’s no turning back now. Not that there ever was. 
“I think you’re a bit greedy,” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and you shiver in anticipation. “I’ve been waiting for half a year, and yet, I still have some self control left.”
“I never had any in the first place.”
And with that, you pull him close for another kiss. 
He doesn’t protest, opening his mouth and sucking on your tongue. His hands move down to your waist this time, pulling your body flush against his. You’ve never experienced being in such close proximity with him, and yet, you don’t feel all that nervous. It all slips away with his soft touches. 
Your hands in his hair — it feels foreign, but he likes that feeling, gets drunk on it. But it’s some kind of reversed intoxication; he doesn’t feel faint; if anything, he’s feeling more sober than ever before as he bathes in your taste, your scent, you. This must be what love feels like, he thinks. This must be it, or else he’s certain he’ll never know love. If this isn’t it, he doesn’t want to know love. 
He hopes you’re at least feeling a fraction of what he’s feeling as he pushes you gently against the wall, hands roaming your body. You do the same, holding onto him like he’s your lifeline, tugging at the strands of hair available to you. 
So caught up in this feeling of bliss, you don’t even notice how you’re not alone with Wonwoo anymore until you hear laughter from a group of bypassing students. 
“Get a room,” someone says and you pull away from Wonwoo immediately, face hot with embarrassment.
He doesn’t appear shaken, though — rather, you glimpse the shadow of a smile playing on his lips as he urges the students to leave. Just as you’re about to ask what he’s smiling about, his fingers close around your wrist and he pulls you along the hallway. He’s all rushed steps until you reach the nearest classroom that turns out to be empty, and he walks inside, dragging you with him. 
Upon closing the door behind him, Wonwoo drags you into his chest. You look up at him, his inquiring gaze that asks for permission, and smile.
“Are you sure?” he asks and your grin turns teasing. 
“Sure about what, Woo?” 
He tongues his cheek, unsure of what to say. You’re just plain teasing him – that much is obvious – so he supposes he can give the same energy back. 
“Sure that you want me to fuck you.”
You’re taken aback, though perhaps you shouldn’t be, considering how you set yourself up for this with your question. Still, your breath catches in your throat and your hand holds onto one of the nearby desks for stability as you face him. Wonwoo looks different now, to some extent; maybe it’s the lighting that gives his eyes a different glow, or maybe it’s how the air has suddenly become swollen with tension. 
Whatever the cause, it excites you to no end, the way he’s looking at you when you take his hand in yours. Like you’re the only thing that matters. 
“Yeah,” you say finally. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
At that, he pulls you impossibly closer. He takes off his glasses in a manner that you in a drunken state would’ve most likely called seductive, and throws them away somewhere you can’t see, too busy kissing him back when his lips crash into yours for the nth time today. He kisses you so hard it knocks the breath out of your lungs, and all thoughts out of your brain. 
Mouth open, you let his tongue explore it and simultaneously, you allow him to walk you further into the classroom, until the back of your thighs hit one of the desks. Standing between your legs, he pushes your shirt up so his fingers can graze the bare skin underneath, and you sigh in content. 
Before you know it, he’s pulling away to peel off your shirt and bra, leaving you bare in front of him.
“You’re beautiful, you know,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to yours again.
You smile into the kiss, goosebumps spreading over your skin with the touches of his fingers that glide further up your thigh, until they slip under your skirt. Knuckles running over your soaked panties, he bites your lip and you let out a delighted moan. 
“You’re so wet,” he comments as he slips a finger under your panties, running it through your folds. You can already feel another flood of arousal approaching just because of his words. “Won’t even need to prep you, huh?”
You desperately shake your head no, and he chuckles.
He lays his palm flat against your clit and you squirm until he retracts it. Playfulness in his gaze, he smears your arousal all over your cunt, ignoring your whines. This takes him at least half a minute before he finally – upon hearing you whimper his name in a way that makes his pants a whole lot tighter all of a sudden – gives in and slides one of his fingers into your pussy. 
You throw your head back with a whimper, holding onto his shoulder as he starts pumping it in and out of you, noises caused by the movement filling the air. 
“Oh my god,” you breathe as he adds another one, your cunt tightening around his digits endlessly. 
He smiles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder which is an immense contrast to how he curls his fingers inside of you, hitting that one spot that makes your toes curl. He plunges his digits in and out of your hole as his thumb circles your clit, until you’re moaning loudly — despite how little time has really passed. 
It’s in utter shock that you watch him retract his hand completely, sucking the arousal from his fingers with a smile. 
“Wha–” is all you manage to say before he flips you over, bending you over the desk. 
You’re painfully aware of how bare you are in front of him — your naked cunt on display, because your skirt doesn’t do much to cover anything at all, and your tits pressed against the wood of the desk. Plus the fact that the locked door won’t do much good if someone is to have class in this room next period. Which would be in about thirty minutes. 
Not that you care. Or, essentially, you do care, but now it doesn’t really matter — besides, you’re certain that Wonwoo would’ve managed to come up with some sort of excuse had you been forced to open the door for some frustrated professor. 
Amidst your thoughts, you almost fail to hear the sound of Wonwoo unclasping his belt. Almost. But when you do hear it, something turns pleasantly in your stomach. 
“You gonna be good for me and stay quiet?” Wonwoo asks and you feel his hands move to hold your hips, cock positioned at your entrance. 
You mumble something in affirmation, something you’re not even sure you can hear yourself, and spread your legs to urge him on. You feel his cock prod at your soaked cunt, run through your folds languidly; again and again, until you’re whining his name in protest. 
He only chuckles at your behavior, and asks, albeit teasingly, “What did you say?”
Gathering your thoughts, you try your best to ignore the way he’s dragging his dick over your pussy, occasionally rubbing over your clit. 
“Yes, I’ll be good for you, Wonwoo.”
Pleased with this response, he finally enters you — cock stretching you open and making you cry out, holding onto the desk for support. He’s big, you realize, tears prodding at your eyes as he bottoms out. 
“Yeah? Gonna be my good girl?” 
You nod and nod, fingers turning white from how you’re gripping the wooden desk once he starts moving — in languid strokes, he manages to turn your moans louder and louder. 
His hands hold onto your hips, pushing them against him so you’re further impaled on his cock with each thrust, and you swear you feel him all the way in your stomach. It’s a good feeling, one you can barely register fully with the way your mind’s gone hazy. 
You hardly notice it when one of his hands lets go of your hips and comes up to your lips, fingers tapping at your chin as a signal to open your mouth. When you do, he slips two digits inside and you suck on them obediently, tightening around his cock. 
Wonwoo smiles.
“Thought I told you to be quiet, baby.”
In all honesty, he loves the nosies you’re making, but he can’t risk someone starting to bang on the door before he’s got you falling apart completely. Besides, the sight of you sucking on his fingers is just as pleasing; just as effective in making his cock twitch in your cunt. 
Your walls suck him in perfectly, the sound of him gliding in and out of your pussy loud in the empty classroom. His thrusts grow gradually harder; the desk starts moving in rhythm with them, and you can’t help letting out moans and whimpers that his digits in your mouth do a poor job of concealing. 
He realizes this, and decides on removing his fingers so they can grab at your hair instead, pulling your back closer to his chest. Your tits bounce with his movements, and he plays with them briefly, groaning as your pussy clamps down on him especially hard at that, but then his hand moves between your legs to tend to your clit. 
He rubs it in circles, granting you an occasional pinch or slap that makes you cry out, and you feel the knot in your stomach grow tighter and tighter. 
“Feels so good, Wonwoo,” you sob, tears streaming down your cheeks as his fingers abuse your swollen clit. 
“I know, baby.”
Barely coherent, you beg him not to stop, and he wonders whatever even prompted you to think that he might want to stop. He only fucks into you harder, hand on your hips to steady the thrusts that bring you closer and closer to coming. 
“Wonwoo,” you say. “So close.”
“Yeah? Gonna come for me, baby? Gonna come all over my cock like a slut?”
You nod, though he probably doesn't see, and he pulls you even closer, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sight in front of him. And to think he could’ve had this earlier had he taken the chance. You in the shortest skirt he’s ever seen, moaning his name like you don’t care if anyone hears — he honestly thinks he might be in heaven. 
“Good girl,” he groans, and that’s what sends you over the edge, your pussy clamping down on his cock as you reach your orgasm. “Good fucking girl.”
He comes less than five seconds later, buried deep inside of you as his cum coats your walls. You whimper at the overstimulation of his last thrusts, collapsing on top of the desk when he pulls out. 
He’s careful not to hurt you, but you still wince slightly, which prompts him to ask you if you’re okay.
“Never better,” you reply, and as soon as you say it, you realize it’s true. 
Wonwoo smiles. He helps you clean up – repeatedly apologizing that he’s wiping you clean with the paper by the classroom sink, even though you tell him it’s fine – and puts his glasses on again. It kind of makes you wish he’d never taken them off, but there’s no way you’re telling him that. Your opinion about his beauty is something you’ll keep to yourself for now. 
You get ready to leave just as someone knocks on the door, and Wonwoo opens it for a very flustered professor that tells you he’s sorry for interrupting. Wonwoo tries telling him it’s not like that – though it definitely is like that, and the blush coating his cheeks does nothing to hide it – and finally, you’re in the hallway, free. 
“Poor guy,” you comment, a smile playing on your lips.
Wonwoo sighs. “Tell me about it. And here I was, thinking we’d gotten lucky.”
“I think we did get lucky, though.”
You say this without thinking it through, but from the way Wonwoo’s eyes light up, you’re glad you didn’t. 
Suddenly, the doors to all classrooms in the hallway open and out come tired students, marking the start of the next period. Which you’re supposed to spend in biology.
You sigh, and Wonwoo seems to get it, because he tells you to leave for class. 
“By the way, Y/N,” Wonwoo says just as you’re about to leave. Something in his gaze tells you this isn’t just a ‘by the way’ thing. “In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m really in love with you. And I’d like you to be my girlfriend.”
“Well, you’re in luck, mister,” you kiss his jaw with a grin. “Because it so happens that I’m in love with you, too. And I’d love to be your girlfriend.”
TAGLIST: @just-here-to-read-01 @syn-hhj @nikkell @dollyji
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sleepingpillscosmos · 11 months
Note
I saw your jjk with golden retriever s/o, but what about a significant that has black cat energy? Feel free to ignore this, I hope you have a good day, night, or whatever :)
JJK WITH A LOVE INTEREST WITH BLACK CAT PERSONALITY
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characters: megumi fushiguro, toge inumaki, yūta okkotsu, yūji itadori.
wc: about 150 each.
requested: yes, by anon.
a/n: kind of got carried away with megumi lol. hope you all will enjoy!
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➪ MEGUMI FUSHIGURO
Since you both have the same personality, you didn't really interacted with each other out of classes and mission. This lasted until Yūji and Nobara arrived at Jujutsu Tech. They practically forced you two to hang out with them, and it always finished with those two bickering with each other and you and Megumi pretending not to know them. You two talked outside school for the first time when Nobara dragged Yūji into a shop with her and you remained alone with Megumi outside. They were taking ages and, since both of your phones were practically dead, you started to talk to pass the time. It was really awkward at first, as the both of you aren't exactly the talkative type. But as the time passed it became more and more easier, and you both were surprised to find out that you two had a lot in common. You two started to hang out alone in either his or your dorm, not really doing something together, just enjoying the presence of the other. It was like this since then. You use your dates as a pause from all the noise of your classmates and your teacher. He likes that you really understand each other because he isn't really good with words, as are you, and this allows him to be himself without worrying about being misunderstood.
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➪ TOGE INUMAKI
You're the one who understands him better than anyone. Since you're an observer it took you a little time to comprehend him when he talked. You helped Maki and Panda to notice his micro expressions when he talked so that they could learn his vocabulary, which isn't really large. You helped Yūta too when he arrived at Jujutsu tech, and this allowed Toge to find one of his best friends. Toge really likes your quietness because he feels like he is not the only one who's silent most of the time, even if you have two totally different reasons and even if he's actually more of a talker than you. He loves when you two hang out alone, because when he talks he knows that you understand everything he's saying, and he can feel like a normal person and have a conversation with you without someone asking the others what he meant.
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➪ YŪTA OKKOTSU
At first he thought you hated him because you were really silent and hardly talked to him. He caught you observing him more than once, and it really scared him. He was probably more scared of you than of Maki, because at least he knew what Maki thought of him, while you never expressed your own opinions on him. Then he understood, with the help of Panda, that you actually didn't plan to kill him or anything, it was just how you are. He loves hanging out with you because, as you both are really silent and calm, he doesn't feel the pressure of making conversation.
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➪ YŪJI ITADORI
He tried so hard to be your friend since the moment he met you due to his friendly and extroverted personality. For the first few weeks your conversations were mainly started and led by him, with you nodding or responding with single words or very short sentences. It didn't change much since then, but neither of you mind it. Even if you seem disinterested, he knows that you're listening carefully to what he's saying, because you remember even the stupidest things about him. He really likes the dynamic between you two because you're never annoyed when he starts to ramble and talk about nonsense topics, and you never stop him too, so he feels really appreciated because he knows too that he can be a bit too much sometimes.
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nothorses · 3 months
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I think one of the ways that tranandrophobia seems to distinguish itself from the other forms of oppression it is connected to is in the way it attempts to convince you it is indistinguishable and that transmascs are always just collateral damage to everyone else's "real" problems.
One example is the very blatent tirf claim that transphobia on its own isn't real, that it is all misdirected transmisogyny, and that transmascs only experience oppression due to our association with transfemmes.
But there is also the insistence that anti abortion laws and similar things are targeted at cis women and therefore are "women's issues" - transmascs shouldn't complain about being excluded because it "isn't about us". Same with homophobia and butchphobia. Even the terf talking point that they are just protecting "little cis girls" from making irreversible mistakes pretends that actual the transmascs being harmed is just an accident and not the goal.
Trying to talk about transandrophobia is a constant stream of "It's just transphobia. It's just misogyny. No, you can't call your experiences misogyny because that isn't about you. You can't call yourself a lesbian or a butch or compare your oppression to lesbophobia. It isn't about you. Yes, terfs hurt you, but you aren't their main target. This isn't about you. Yes, you need abortions and experience medical misogyny, but you can't talk about it because this isn't about you. You were sexually assaulted because of misdirecred misogyny. Don't make it about you. You've never contributed to the history of gay men, or lesbians, or the trans community. It isn't about you. Those cross dressers weren't trans. Stop trying to make women's history about you. You can't reclaim cunt or faggot or dyke because those words aren't about you. I don't care how many times you've been called a tranny. That word isn't about you. Why must you make everything about you?"
Because sure, transmascs exist, and we might be impacted by everyone else's oppression, but it is always thought of as a theoretical consequence of what is really going on, if it is thought of at all. Transmascs are not considered to be oppressed in our own right.
This idea gives the lawmakers plausible deniability, allies an excuse to ignore us, and feeds into transmasc erasure. If we are never the actual target to begin with, then clearly, we can't be uniquely targeted. The law makers don't need to be held accountable for their transandrophobia because it isn't like they are trying to hurt transmascs, right? We need to let the real victims speak, the ones being targeted on purpose.
Nobody ever sees the way it all piles up, and even if they do, they think "well it's just an accident, right? If we fix the main problem, then this fringe issue will go away on its own" without ever considering that transandrophobia isn't as rare, fringe, or accidental as society wants it to appear and that actual effort needs to be put into dismantling it.
It isn't that they actually believe that transandrophobia isn't real. It's that they just don't believe it is about transmascs. Because even if we are the common denominator, we are still just collateral damage and could not possibly have anything of value to say. Because as collateral damage, our issues are never our own and thus never need to be discussed on our own terms.
100%. And I think this is exactly what this sort of cycle of erasure depends on.
We are erased, our problems are erased, and our oppression is erased, which means it's easy for people to ignore us, our problems, and our oppression. There's so little evidence, so few people talking about it, and they never really see or hear anyone name us in this violence, so surely, it isn't about us at all! It must be about the people they know about already, the problems they know about, and the ones who are always readily named in these conversations.
If we're speaking up, there's no reason to believe us; if anything, we come under scrutiny for trying to talk about these issues nobody else can see. We must be crazy, hysterical, whiny and overdramatic, or perhaps malicious. We're stealing attention, stealing space, and stealing help. We might be victims, but we are incidental and unworthy victims.
And ignoring us, our problems, and our oppression means we continue to be erased. Which makes it easier to ignore us, and erase us, and easier to perpetuate violence against us. And so on.
It's understandable, in a way, for people to ignore us; most people don't know about any of this in the first place, and when they do, they're not inclined to take any of it seriously. Even if they do see convincing evidence that our problems are real and worth talking about, it's easy for that to be a one-off that they eventually forget about. Everyone else is talking about everything else, so we sort of fade away.
It's not their fault; they're not trying to ignore us. They just haven't learned to recognize violence against us, and they just don't seek us out, and can they really be blamed for that? Can they really be blamed for the violence that continues because they and others don't see or try to stop it? We're so hard to find in the first place. You know, because we've been so thoroughly erased.
There are a lot of people who've been fighting this for a long time, and even more we don't-- and probably won't-- ever know about, who've been fighting for even longer. I think it's getting better; the organized backlash against us is, imo, a sign that our reach is getting stronger and wider. But it's a hard cycle to break.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 month
Text
the same tv
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words: 1.8k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, parent death, funerals, robbery, redemption/forgiveness, addiction, drinking (wine, not like hard drinking), tickling, cockwarming, they call themselves kids at one point but at no point are reader or rafe under 18, like itll make sense once you read it in context
the first thing you do when you enter your house is kick off your shoes. the next is to stop holding back your tears as they stream down your face. you can't even sob anymore, just silent, steady tears.
you sigh as you look around the entryway. there's been some changes since you moved away, despite only being out of your parents house for a little over a year. they replaced the grand portrait that was of your mom's parents with one of you, now taking the place of honor.
you look away before you get to the rest of the family photos. you've seen enough at the funeral. you walk further in to the house, bare feet against the shiny wood floor.
you pause when you hear something further in. you haven't forgotten how the old house seemed to speak, groaning and settling during strong winds or when too many people were crammed between it's walls.
this sound seems different, but you're also occasionally sniffling, your ears are shot from blasting music in an attempt to distract yourself, so you shrug it off and walk further into the living room.
the sound suddenly makes sense as you see someone stood in your living room, arms holding up your parents flat screen television, awkwardly trying to carry it.
you aren't even mad. you honestly don't care about the tv. or the fact that someone is trying to rob you.
you let out a bitter laugh before you sink to the floor. “of fucking course this happens.” you are glad you still have your purse slung from your shoulder as you pull your wallet out, quite aggressively throwing it at the robber who has now frozen.
“what?” he questions, lowering the tv to the ground and pushing his hood of his head, a dumb move for someone currently committing a crime.
“this has been the worst week of my life and now you're robbing me. just my fucking luck…” you let out a broken sob. “just take whatever you want and leave.”
the only things that matter to you still in the house aren't actually worth anything anyways. the photos of your parents, your dad's cologne that's half empty, the oak tree that your childhood dog is buried next to.
“i thought the people who lived here died.”
you pick your head up, a look of fury overtaking your face.
“they did. they're my fucking parents! and now they're gone and you're fucking robbing me! get the fuck out!” you stand up, pushing at the robbers chest.
he looks familiar, like you should know who he is but can't place him.
“im-shit. im sorry.” he says, allowing you to shove him away and out the door. 
“im really fucking sorry!” he yells again before you slam the door shut.
-- years later --
you park your car in the driveway instead of pulling it all the way into the garage like you know you should, but you need to know if you're correct about the man sitting on your front step.
“you're the kid that tried to rob me.” you say as you walk the sidewalk to the porch.
“yes.” he says, looking ashamed and a whole lot more grown up. “i was an addict and i owed a debt. my dad had just kicked me out of the house and i was on my own for the first time. it was stupid of me, but when i heard the people living here died, i thought it'd be a victimless crime.”
he sighs deeply, like even just thinking back to that time physically hurts. “i didn't even think that someone could have inherited the house. im so, so sorry.” 
he swallows thickly. “my mom died when i was young. my dad- my dad just died recently. he faked his death and i got him back, but he's actually gone this time. you know what you said about the worst week in your life?”
you think back those years. it's mostly a blur, especially the days surrounding your parents car crash and funeral, but you do remember breaking down in front of the robber. you nod gently, waiting to hear the end of his speal.
“i know what you mean now. and im sorry i hurt you. im sorry about your parents dying.” he pulls something out of his pocket, extending his hand.
you look into his open palm, realizing it's a ornate gold necklace.
“no.” you shake your head. “you keep it. you don't need to bribe me to forgive you.”
“i want you to have it.” he says. “it's… it's not a lot, but it's something. something to help make up for what ive done.”
you reach forward, carefully taking the necklace out of his outstretched hand, carefully not to accidentally bump his skin. 
“thank you.” you say, admiring the way the sun gleams off the metal. 
“im rafe, by the way. rafe cameron.”
“y/n.” you respond, undoing the clasp of the necklace.
“here, let me.” he takes it out of your hands, moving quicker than you can think as he steps around you. your hair is already up in a bun, so rafe is able to reach around and easily place the chain around your neck.
“thank you.” the weight of the necklace feels comfortable against your skin, like it's the last finishing touch you need. you are wearing your mother's earrings, your father's bracelet, and now you have the other piece of what made that time in your life so miserable, your robbers necklace.
“i… i guess ill be going now.” rafe says.
you turn and watch him walk away. you recognize so much of your former self in him, the clear grieving he's going through.
“are you sober now?” you call out before he reaches the end of your driveway.
“sober enough.” he shouts back. rafe doubts he'll ever truly be clean, but he can at least manage now, doesn't need the drugs like he used to.
“then come back for dinner tomorrow. we can talk.”
you can see the smile stretch over his features. “ill be there.”
-- three months later --
“shit.” rafe says, head snapping over to you. “this is the same tv.”
you giggle and nod, surprised it took him so long to realize. “i never really watch tv on the actual tv, so no need to replace it.” you shrug, the gold necklace still draped over your neck. you haven't taken it off except to shower and sleep.
“god, thats crazy.” rafe looks over to you. “imagine if we just talked back then.” 
you shake your head. “you just think you want that because we get along now. we were both in bad places.”
“you don't think we would have been hooking up back then?” rafe asks, raising an eyebrow at you, watching the way your thighs press together at the mere mention of hooking up, already feeling the urge to sleep with rafe even after having sex only a couple of hours ago.
“we were two scared kids. if we were hooking up we definitely shouldn't have been.” you giggle, reaching your wine glass out for rafe to refill, which he is glad to pour a more than healthy amount in.
“and now?” rafe looks down at his lap.
“and now we are two slighty less scared slightly older kids.” you giggle again, taking a deep sip before leaning across the couch cushion to press a kiss to rafes cheek, the movie you had put on long forgotten.
“rafe.” you wait until he looks you in the eye. “im here for you.”
“god, what have i done to deserve you?” rafe wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you on top of him as he flops back onto the couch. 
you let out a laugh before it's cut off with his lips. he kisses you heavily, hand against the back of your head, not allowing you to pull away, not that you want to.
you let himself get lost in your kiss. you wish you had someone to support you in the time you needed most, and you're determined to be that person for rafe now.
rafe easily dominates your mouth even though he's underneath you as you quickly work your shorts off, wiggling against him until your bottom half is nude.
you press against rafes crotch, still covered by his sweatpants. you feel his cock straining against the fabric as you rub your pussy against it, wetting the gray material.
“baby, please.” rafe groans. he would pull his cock out himself, but his hands are preoccupied holding you close to him as if his life depends on it.
“oh, now you don't like teasing?” you smile.
“alright, i deserve this.” rafe also manages a chuckle despite his straining erection. “but please. need to feel your pussy ‘round me.”
“alright.” you roll your eyes dramatically. you'll have to get revenge on rafe at a different time for edging you the other night.
you push his pants down his thighs until you're able to reach into his underwear and pull out his cock. you give him a few quick strokes before lining up your entrance and sinking down.
rafe let's out a moan, barely pulling his face away from yours. “you're so wet.”
“it's almost like i like you or something.” you roll your eyes.
rafe laughs before kissing you again, hand moving up to your hair, tangling his fingers between the strands.
you sit on his cock for a moment, adjusting, before beginning to move, up then down, up then down, subtle movements of your hips, not needing anything fast, wanting drawn out, wanting it to last.
the movie is long over by the time rafe finally cums, a hand finally moving down to rub your clit to make sure you get off at the same time as his.
by the time you're both satisfied, you're sweaty and exhausted. you don't even bother to pull off his cock as you rest your head against his chest.
“thank you.” rafe says softly, rubbing his hand over your back. you don't need to ask what for. you know. for being there. you'll always be there.
you look up at him, a small smile on your face. “how are we gonna tell people we met?”
things are quickly getting serious, and while he hasn't breached the subject with you yet, neither of you have been hiding how quickly you're falling.
“what, you think it's a problem that we met when i was robbing you?” rafe says, making you giggle, only intensified by his hand pressing into your side, fingers tickling you as you howl with laughter.
rafe flips you over onto your back so you're underneath him, keeping his cock pushed inside of you.
“maybe we should just tell people we met on tinder.” rafe shrugs.
you roll your eyes. “somehow that's more embarrassing.”
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a-hazbin-reader · 3 months
Note
I know I already said this in the comments but I would like to officially request a spinoff oneshot (hc works too) of that pregnant reader post where Lucifer is just trying to talk to his unborn Godchild and then Alastor comes in and is like "fuck off"
If you got other stuffs going on feel free to ignore this, just shooting my shot
Welp-
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: None I think??
Description: ☝️⬆️
Your pregnancy wouldn't be possible without Lucifer. Sure, you and Alastor had to do a lot of the work, but Lucifer... made it happen
So you were grateful to him and tried your best to show it, though Alastor was much less kind
Lucifer was also an experienced parent so you would come to him for advice sometimes
Which Alastor always hated, but he never stopped you
When he wasn't fighting with Alastor, then he was genuinely nice to be around, though you know Alastor did start it
When Lucifer names himself the godfather of your child, you don't see any reason to deny him that title
Alastor does though-
"All I'm saying is, we could pick someone better to be the godfather-"
"Alastor! We wouldn't have this chance without him!"
"Uh, you two know I can hear you, right?"
Regardless, you like the guy and don't mind when he starts talking to your baby bump
"Hewwo, widdle baby! Aren't you gonna be a big one~ Yes, you are~"
It is rather big for how far along you are...
You can't help but laugh and be amused at Lucifer's childish antics as he talks to your unborn child
You do gasp in surprise when your baby suddenly kicks at the sound of his voice, apparently taking a liking to the king of hell
Which of course makes Lucifer want to feel the baby kick and who are you to tell him no? Especially when he's giving you those puppy eyes
"Aren't you a strong one~? You gotta be gentle or you'll hurt your mama~"
His words DO NOT help and the kicks only get stronger, almost in warning of something-
Of course, that's when Alastor walks in, and you can practically see the vicious thoughts swirling in his head
He tuts as he comes around to rest by your side, giving your forehead a quick kiss before glaring down at Lucifer
"And just what is going on in here, my dear?"
You've got to calm your husband before he does anything crazy-
"Lucifer was talking to the baby when they suddenly started kicking, so he's trying to calm them down.."
Lucifer is still just cooing and feeling the bump, completely oblivious to the conversation around him
"Ah, I see..."
Lucifer doesn't see the piano that drops on him, Alastor suddenly standing in his place and rubbing your baby bump
"There there~ Papa is here to save you from that little nuisance~"
He starts singing a little song to the baby too, gazing at you with warm eyes as he rests his cheek on you
You'd be upset with him if him rubbing your stomach wasn't so damn soothing...actually managing to calm the baby..
You could almost fall asleep like this...
What were you so worried about again?
"YOU TACKY PIECE OF SHIT!"
...and this is where you take your leave, waddling out of the room to go find some snacks
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For you 🤌
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starry-nights-garden · 5 months
Text
Ateez and their wordless "I love you"s
✧ Ateez all members x gn!reader ✧ genre: fluff, comfort ✧ warnings: none
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Hongjoong:
makes time for you
of course, everyone saw it coming - he's living a busy life and no matter how tight his schedule gets, he'll make time to meet you or to at least talk to you on the phone in between
but that's not everything
he'll also take care of you (or try his best to)
we all know he's clumsy, but he still wants to do things for you, you know?
whether that's talking you through a rough period in your life or just offering an open ear and a shoulder for you to lean on
or if it's him actually trying to make something for you!!
without realizing he'll be picking up a new skill as he's making you some accessory he thinks you'll like or maybe he'll even be brave enough to try baking you a cake
even if he doesn't succeed, he knows he can always try again together with you, but even then he won't be able to focus on the task at hand because of how lost he gets in the image of you
Seonghwa:
takes care of you
in every way - but especially in an acts of service kinda way
will definitely nag you a bit if you're the type to be unorganized and chaotic, because he knows neat surroundings simply make you feel better than clutter everywhere!
reminds you to eat three meals a day, to get enough sleep, etcetc, and yes it gets annoying at times
but he also understands that maybe it's hard for you to stay organized, or maybe you're going through a stressful time in your life where you're too busy to prepare yourself proper meals every day
then he will simply do those tasks for you, and never ask for anything in return
your health and wellbeing are the most important things to him, so he will support you in upkeeping them in whatever way he can!
Yunho:
cheers for you, no matter what
we all know he's the one who does the most to keep a positive energy and to cheer the people around him up
and he'll do the same for you
no matter if you have an important exam coming up, and important interview, or if it's just another day - he'll always be there to have your back and to wish you good luck
you know that no matter how seemingly small or insignificant, you can always tell him about even the tiniest worries you have and he'll take you seriously, calming you down and motivating you at the same time
he's also very social, but another thing that will both make him feel loved and be a way to convey to you how comfortable he is with you is to just sit together in silence
each doing their own thing while still being together so you won't ever feel lonely is another way for him to silently tell you he loves you
Yeosang:
learns about you
and I mean not just a few obvious details
I'm talking everything - he picks up on even the smalles of your habits or preferences that even your close friends don't know about
he's very observant and even more so when he loves someone
gives you small gifts that really aren't a big deal for him, but it might just bring you to tears from how thoughtful they are
it takes him a while to warm up to people and to develop trust, so it will also take him a long time to come to properly love you
but in those moments where he realizes just how safe you make him feel, it's like his emotions overwhelm him
might manage to hold back just until after he asks you whether he can kiss you
but as soon as his arms are wrapped around you and his lips brush against yours, he'll sweep you off your feet from how many feelings he pours into just that one kiss
blushes a lot afterwards, and needs you to not let go of his hands to feel reassured that what he's doing is just right
San:
tells you synonyms of "I love you"
tells you that he appreciates you, that he's thankful to you, tells you you have a beautiful heart
of course he's also one who's big on physical affection, but in moments where he realizes once again just how much he loves you, he knows no words and no gesture in the world would be enough to convey his feelings to you
so he makes it a habit to tell you what he feels frequently
tells you you have a pretty smile when he catches you grinning by yourself, or that he admires how diligent you are when you're working on something late at night
it always comes as a surprise when he does this, but this makes it feel just that much more sincere
Mingi:
gives you a space to be sad
no matter how many good times you two have, nothing screams "I love you" quite as much to him as sitting together in silence and giving you a place to go through a hard time safely
will offer you advice or his perspective on things if you want him to, and he will certainly remind you to slow down a bit time and time again
he's actually very good at sensing when you're having a hard time, even when you do everything in your might to hide it
will be the anchor that grounds you at times like those
but even when times aren't as dire, he's like an open book when it comes to showing that he loves you
the way he looks at you alone gives it away, the way he plays with your fingers when he holds your hand or the way he melts against your touch with every single embrace you share
Wooyoung:
gets protective
he just can't help it okay?
he knows you're an adult and you don't need him to guard you 24/7, but even just not having his arm around you at all times feels off to him
he wants to be there for you at all times - the type to pick up his phone if you call him at 3 in the morning because you have trouble sleeping and you feel like it'd help you to hear his voice
might go a bit overboard at times, it does happen that his urge to protect you and to motivate you to become a better version of yourself ends in a fight
but even then he'll realize rather quickly that he went too far and ought to apologize
your nr 1 hype man, but at the end of the day you know you have a safe place to rest in his arms, and that he'll always accept you exactly as you are
Jongho:
listens
even if you've been complaining about the same thing for weeks, he won't get tired of lending you an open ear and he won't tell you off for it
he knows that sometimes you need to think about the same thing a hundred times until you find a solution for it, and if voicing your thoughts helps he'll be more than happy to listen
sits with you even through the most uncomfortable of feelings and will make sure you know he's not leaving your side even when things get difficult
but he'll also show you his playful side
him joking around with you just really shows how comfortable he is being around you, and you can be sure that your bickering will always end with bright smiles on your faces and sweet kisses as he realizes just how grateful he is to have you in his life
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darkbluekies · 8 months
Text
Like magic —Part 1
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part 2 Male!yandere x female!reader x female!yandere
Hogwarts AU
Summary: your parents have denied you access to going to hogwarts, but finally in your 3d year, you manage to sneak off. But is life really that good at hogwarts when two students take a concerningly big interest in you?
Warnings: bullying, indications of unstable home life, kissing (dubcon?), forcing reader to throw up,
Word count: 6.8k
A/N: I have loosely followed the AU, but have made up my own things for the plot to work, so don't take my work literally :)
It has to be a joke, right? There’s no way that you can run straight through a wall! You gulp and look around, seeing if anyone else is doing the same, or if anyone is noticing how much you’re staring at the pillar separating the two platforms. Finally, you see two others make it through and you decide to make a run for it. You close your eyes and when you dare to open them again, you’re there. The train, the students, it’s finally time. After three, long years. 
You were supposed to start when you were eleven, but you weren’t allowed to. They didn’t believe you. If you hadn't picked the lock to your bedroom, you'd not be here this year either. You don't have anything — no books, no animals, no broom. You only have a wand and a packed suitcase. You watch the other students already wearing their Hogwarts uniforms. They hug their parents and catch up with their friends. You sneak onto the train and sit down in your own little coupe. Your heart is hammering against your chest. Your parents will figure it out soon enough and you're terrified that they'll stand on the platform and demand you to get off. 
Just start the train, make it leave.
"Oh, excuse me", a voice says.
You turn your head to the door, seeing a blonde girl standing there with a black, Grey and yellow uniform on.
"Can I sit with you?" she asks and quickly adds: "I saw you out on the platform. You looked rather lost so i just wanted to see if I could help you."
"Yeah, sure", you answer, startled. "Thank you."
The girl sits down on the couch in front of you with a smile.
"I'm Hedwig", she smiles. "Third year student. What's your name?"
"Y/N", you answer hesitantly. "I'm … new."
"I see. You're a first year student?"
"Not exactly, no … I'm supposed to be in third year too-"
"Oh, really?" Hedwig shines up. "I don't think I've ever seen you before. Which house are you in?"
"I don't know." You shrug embarrassedly. "This is technically my first year."
"Oh … I see." She smiles brightly. "That's totally fine. I can help you if you want. We have some hours to kill, so I can fill you up on most things so you're not as lost when you reach Hogwarts as you were out on the platform."
"Yes, please, that would be great. Thank you."
Hedwig fills you in on basic information. Four houses, different characteristics, a talking hat gives you your house. The school is a gigantic castle that has moving stairs, every house has passwords to their common rooms, some teachers are asses, some are okay, some are nice. Don't wander into the forest, especially at night, stay out of certain corridors. The janitor's cat is an asshole.
"I suppose you're a muggleborn then", Hedwig smiles and adds when you frown confusedly: "born and raised by normal people. Otherwise you'd know most things already."
"Are you?" you wonder, wanting to find something in common with this extraordinary girl.
"Halfblood, actually. My dad is a businessman and my mother is a witch. But don't worry, I don't care about what type of families people come from. It doesn't interest me in the slightest."
"Do some care?"
Hedwig squirms uncomfortably. "Some do. Some people think that being from a wizard family makes them superior to halfbloods and muggleborns, but don't you worry, those people aren't worth socializing with."
"Which house are you in?"
Hedwig smiles and shows you the yellow logo on her cape. You can see a badger in the middle.
"I'm a Hufflepuff!" she smiles and giggles. "The best house according to me, but I'm supposedly a bit biased."
"Which do you think I'll get into?" you ask.
"I'm not sure. It's hard for me to say after only talking with you for thirty minutes … but I think you could be a Hufflepuff like me … or a Gryffindor."
"Why a Gryffindor?"
"I don't know, but you seem to have a steady heart."
"Which is the worst house?"
"There's no such thing as a 'worst house', Y/N. Every house has both good and bad people — even Hufflepuff. Although some houses may have a bigger percentage of 'bad' people." She sighs. "Slytherin. Although I do have some friends from Slytherin, some of the students in that house can be quite … scary. Their pride can be extremely big and they let that go out over other people. Don't worry about it though, not everyone is mean."
You nod and gulp.
Hedwig catches you up on some easy spells and knowledge on the rest of the way. You avoid every type of question that can lead her to know about your … situation.
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You get sorted into a house in private, after Hedwig asks the principal about not pulling so much attention to you. You're embarrassed as if already. You're a Ravenclaw.
"The uniform is so pretty on you, Y/N!" she gasps as you come out of Dumbledore's office. "The blue looks really good on you."
"Thank you", you say and feel the material. "What do I do now?"
"We'll go back to the welcome ceremony and then you'll have to talk to your prefects. They'll fill you in with everything you need to know." She takes your hands in hers. "If you ever need any books, let me know and I'll lend you one, okay?"
"Thank you, Hedwig."
She doesn't let your hands go. You have to pull them back to be able to walk to the hall. You sit down with the other third years and glance over to Hedwig’s table.
"You know Hedwig?" a Ravenclaw boy with black eyes asks. 
"I met her on the train", you say.
"She's the most popular girl in our year", a girl says. "Everyone wants to be her friend."
"Really?" you wonder and glance at Hedwig who's sitting and smiling with her fellow Hufflepuffs. "She never came across as someone popular."
Maybe you're too used to how the people back home act.
When all the first years have gotten their houses and the food has been devoured, you follow your prefect through mighty corridors that have ghosts flowing past. You enter a rower with a long, spiral staircase. Your legs hurt after four steps.
"Y/N", the prefect says. "Before I show you to the dormitory, I need to talk to you a bit. Do you know any magic at all?"
"Hedwig taught me a bit on the train", you reply, concluding that only saying her first name should work if she's as popular as that boy had insisted.
"You'll have to take extra classes unless you want to start all over with the first graders."
You shake your head quickly. Rather hard work now than be known as 'the third grader among first years' for your entire school time.
You're led into the dormitory and granted your own bed. Your things are already in your drawers. After this long, eventful day, you fall asleep quickly, finally where you should be. When waking up, you’re first confused about where you are, sure that everything that happened yesterday was just a nightmare … but no, it was all real. 
"Now, don't be alarmed, my dear", Hedwig says when you meet her. "You will do just fine, okay?"
"I have never been around the castle", you mumble and take a bite out of your toast. 
"Your first lesson is Transfiguration. You'll have that class with the Slytherin students."
"Will we have any classes together?"
Hedwig smiles widely. "Sure, we will. But I think you better go now, you start in ten minutes." 
Hedwig shoots her book over the table.
"Here you go" she smiles. "Good luck now, I'll meet you for lunch, okay? You can sit with me."
"Okay, thank you", you say quietly and walk out of the great hall. Your heart is beating loudly in your chest and you start to wonder if the feeling of needing to throw up is real or only imaginary.
You find yourself lost in the large corridors before finally finding your way.
"I'm so sorry", you say quietly as you enter. "I lost my way."
"I will have mercy on you this time", the professor says. "But don't think that this will be a habit of yours, young lady. I expect you to be on time from now on."
"Of course, Professor McGonagall. I'll never be late again."
"Very well." She looks around. "Sit down beside Edmund, all the Ravenclaw seats are filled."
"Yes, professor."
You glance over the class and see an empty seat with a boy wearing the Slytherin uniform sitting beside it. He looks bored out of his mind. Carefully, you make your way over and sit down. Edmund glances at you.
"Who are you?" he mutters. "Are you a transfer student or something?"
"Something like that", you answer. 
The class starts and you immediately feel your head spin. You can't keep up.
"What's the matter, new girl?" Edmund chuckles while he leans his cheek in his hand. 
"I-I've never done anything like this!" you hiss to avoid anyone else hearing. 
Edmund’s face drops. He seems to … crawl together without having to move.
"You're a … a-", he starts.
"Edmund and Y/N, if you're going to continue talking, I'll use the both of you as guinea pigs — literally!" the professor says sternly.
Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment when the rest of the class turns to look at the both of You. Edmund rolls his eyes and grabs his book. When they turn around, you breathe out.
As break time starts, Edmund joins his friends.
"New girl", he says, catching your attention. "Next time, come earlier so I don't have to sit with you again."
"Of course", you mutter and leave.
You smile when you see Hedwig wait for you by the entrance to the big hall. She holds out her hand.
"I've missed you!" she smiles and hugs you tightly. "I was worrying for you all through Herbology!" She holds your hand while pulling you with her. "Tell me everything!"
You sit down by the Ravenclaw table to eat. Hedwig’s hazel eyes never leave yours. 
"I came late, so I sat down beside a Slytherin student."
Hedwig's smile thins out slightly. "Oh? Who? Do I know them?"
"His name is Edmund."
Hedwig chokes on her pumpkin soup and starts to cough. 
"What's wrong?" you ask quickly and pat her back.
"Did he say anything to you?" Hedwig asks worriedly. 
"He just told me to be quicker to class next time so he didn't have to sit with me. A bit rude, if you ask me."
"A bit rude? Y/N, that boy is a bully!"
You feel a shiver run down your back. 
"Edmund is one of those bad Slytherins I told you about", Hedwig says quietly. "He's a pureblood and … thinks he's better than anyone else. It's said that his parents helped … well, you know who, before he disappeared two years ago." 
Hedwig had talked about that man on the train. You gulp.
"Whatever you do, Y/N — and promise me this — don't go close to Edmund", Hedwig says and holds your hands in hers. "Please?"
You nod. Hedwig smiles and caresses your cheek.
"Let's go to the library and study on the lunch break", she says. "There's so much you need to learn!"
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You study with Hedwig every day. But she doesn't seem to mind, she neglects her friends to be with you. 
"What a cute sight, isn't it?" you hear a voice say.
You're sitting in the courtyard, studying magical history. You look up, seeing Edmund and his two friends come over.
"One half and one mudblood, how sweet", he says with a wide smile. "They really do be letting anyone in these days."
“What is wrong with you?” Hedwig gasps. “Have you no shame?!”
“What? Did I say anything wrong? Aren’t you halfblood, Hedwig?” He turns to you. “New girl, aren’t you muggleborn? What did I say that is wrong, Hedwig?”
“You do not call Y/N that. You are a disgrace to the wizarding world, Edmund.”
“I find it funny how someone that isn’t fully pure is calling me a disgrace.”
Hedwig grabs your hand and helps you up on your feet. 
“Come, Y/N”, she says. “Let’s leave. We can’t study here.”
You nod. While Hedwig drags you away from the courtyard, you glance over your shoulders, seeing Edmund’s icy eyes follow you. 
“I can’t believe that he called you that”, Hedwig says quietly and pulls you with her. “I’m furious.”
“What did that mean?” you ask carefully. “Why did that matter so much?”
“Mudblood, Y/N, is one of the foulest things anyone can ever call a person. It basically means that your blood is disgusting for not being born into a wizard family. He … he called you something less than human. It’s disgusting.” Hedwig hugs you tightly and hides her face into your shoulder. “You don’t deserve that. You’re such a sweet soul, I’m so sorry.”
“Hedwig, it’s okay”, you promise with a smile. “I didn’t take any offense — I barely knew what it meant.”
“I get sad for you. You don’t deserve that.” She thinks for a moment and then lights up. "Would you like to have a sleepover?"
"How would that work out?" 
"Sneak into Hufflepuff, I'll give you the password. I'll take all the blame if we get caught. Please, Y/N? It'll be so much fun."
"The girls you share a dormitory with will be tell on us-"
"No, they won't! Trust me. The girls like me, they wouldn't tattletail."
It must be beneficial to be popular. You frown. Aren't you quite famous now too? After being glued to Hedwig’s hip for over a month must have caused rumors. You have been so busy with your extra classes and studying that you haven't been able to catch up with it all. You barely know what your fellow Ravenclaws are named.
"Please, Y/N?" Hedwig pleads. "It will be so much fun. I will get us some snacks and we can read together and tell stories."
"Where should I sleep?"
"In my bed, of course! We're friends, it's not weird. What do you say?"
"Alright, if you promise that we won't get in trouble."
"No one will tell, I promise!" She takes your hand. "Let's go to the library and study now."
You do sneak into the Hufflepuff common room that evening together with Hedwig. You can't help but feel terribly wrong and every motion you make feels watched. At any time someone will pop out and you'll be caught. Hedwig pulls you through the common room and you can't help but gawk. Why weren't you placed in Hufflepuff?
Wearing your pajamas, you climb down into Hedwig’s bed. She smiles, cuddling up beside you. Her arm hugs yours, her head leaning onto your shoulder. The other girls in the dormitory glances at you, but none of them say anything to you. 
“Y/N, what do you want to do?” she asks. “Would you like to read anything? Or just sleep? Or anything else?”
“I think I’d just like to sleep”, you say quickly. “My nerves are still telling me that this is a bad idea.”
You don’t admit it out loud, but you want it to be over as quickly as possible before someone finds you out. Hedwig nods and turns off the lights. You lay down in the light of the moon and feel how Hedwig crawls down beside you. She pets your hair in a loving manner, feeling it gently.
“You have such pretty hair”, she whispers, making sure no one else hears. “I always stare at it. Have you caught me looking?”
“Actually, no”, you smile. “I know you look at me a lot, but I didn’t know you looked at my hair specifically.”
“I’m not only looking at your hair, silly. I think you’re pretty.”
“I think you’re pretty too, Hedwig.”
“Really? Do you really think so?”
You nod. She seems to burst with happiness.
“But you already know that”, you say. “Everyone loves you. Everyone tells you that.”
“Yes, but there’s a difference when someone you don’t care about says it and when someone you hold dear tells you.”
You smile. Hedwig’s hazel eyes glisten in the moonlight as she smiles widely and curls up in your arms, like a cat. She holds you tightly, hiding her own face into your neck. You’re not sure how, but you do fall asleep easily that night — snug and secure in her warm embrace.
The next morning, Hedwig doesn't want to let you go. She begs you to skip breakfast and lay in bed, buy you insist on eating.
“Before we go, could you please try my uniform?” Hedwig pleads and holds up the yellow and black uniform. “I want to see how you’d look like if you were a Hufflepuff. Please, Y/N? Just for fun?”
“We’ll be late for breakfast”, you mumble. 
“Nonsense.”
She has already start to tug at your pajamas. You give in and put on the Hufflepuff uniform. Hedwig watches you with excited eyes. 
“Oh, why weren't you placed in Hufflepuff?” she sighs. “Why weren’t you placed with me?”
“I don’t know, Hedwig.”
“It’s so unfair.” She pouts. “We belong together. We’re destined to be side by side. Why did the sorting hat have to put us in two different houses?”
“The sorting hat has its reasons. Now, give me back my own uniform so that I can go to breakfast.”
“Yeah, yeah …”
You change into your own uniform before sneaking out to the corridor with no one in sight. A small smile plays on your lips. You managed to to do it!
Together, you walk to the great hall but before you reach it, Professor Snape has caught the both of you. 
“You two better follow with me”, he says coldly. “You’re both in deep trouble.”
Shit. He knows. 
Hedwig takes your hand, squeezing it. You only have time to look at her terrified eyes before you’re pulled into Snape’s office. He’s not alone. It seems like the entire faculty staff is there. Hedwig’s squeeze becomes tighter. 
“Y/N, you went into the Hufflepuff house this night”, Dumbledore says, not sparing any sweet talk. “That is strictly forbidden.”
“I made her do it”, Hedwig says firmly. “Y/N hesitated, I told her into it, I convinced her. Please don't punish her, I was the one giving out the password from the beginning."
"These are serious things, miss."
"I know. I just … I really want to be with Y/N." She takes your hand. "More than anything. I’m so sorry for causing all of this, professor. I will never do it again. Punish me only, please.”
“Snape, this is a clear sign of innocent love”, Dumbledore tells the other man. 
You flinch. Love?
“I don’t care”, Snape mutters. “They broke the rules.”
“I don’t see any malice in their intentions. They only wanted to be with each other. I will not punish them — this time — but if they do this again, I will give them a week’s long detention in different classes. I can’t punish miss Hedwig all too much, after all, she is Y/N’s tutor. But if you break the rules again, Hedwig, we will find someone else to tutor her, is that clear?”
“Yes, professor”, Hedwig replies. “Thank you for not punishing us. We will make sure to behave.”
“You can go.”
Hedwig tugs on your hand before you leave. Your head is spinning with confusion. Who snitched you out? Did one of the girls do that? They could risk house points and to get in conflict with Hedwig … no they wouldn’t risk any of that. Then who?
“Breaking rules is so not Hufflepuff behavior”, a voice snickers. 
You turn to the side, seeing Edmund lean against the wall. 
“You spied on us?” you ask. 
“Spy?” Edmund wonders and stands up. “I couldn’t care less about the two of you, don’t flatter yourselves. You two are like annoying, loud flies, I can’t ignore you because you’re always in my face.”
“Don’t listen to him”, Hedwig says and pulls on your arm. “Let’s go get some breakfast, Y/N.”
“Careful, Hedwig”, Edmund smirks. “You heard what they said: break one more rule and you lose tutor privileges over Y/N.”
You roll your eyes as the two of you walk alongside each other. Edmund’s words don’t feel good in your stomach and you have an eerie suspicion that he’s going to do something. 
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You sit out in the grass, reading. While Hedwig is having her defense against dark arts-class you have a free period. Deciding to take your alone time to your benefit, you decide to read up on some things beforehand.
"Where's your little halfblood?" you hear that voice ask.
You look up from your book, seeing Edmund and his two minions grin at you.
"In class", you answer shortly and start to change pages, hoping he gets the hint that you're busy and leaves you alone. 
Edmund snatches the book from you. You cut your finger on the paper. With a hiss, you stand up. Edmund laughs as he looks in the book.
"I learned this last year", he chuckles. "You really are a transfer student. Cute."
"Give it to me", you sigh. "I'm not in the mood, I have to learn that."
"You won't learn from the book. We barely used it for this topic."
"Great. I'm doomed."
"I could offer you some tutoring. I got full marks after all."
You frown. "Why would you do that?"
"What can I say? I'm a generous spirit. Besides, I'm bored. Teaching a little mudblood magic could entertain me for a week or two."
"Don't you have class?"
"Not until twelve thirty." Edmund points at the castle wall with the book. "Sit down, mudblood, let's learn."
That 'nickname' makes your stomach turn. After knowing the full definition, you'd rather have Edmund call you something along the lines of a whore — that way you could actually have some clever comebacks. Mudblood, on the other hand, is nothing you can answer to. You sit down slowly. Edmund sits down on your left side and his two minions on your right side. Edmund opens the book and puts his finger to a paragraph.
"See this?" he asks. "This is something you have to learn in case you want to pass. The checklist doesn't contain this, but it will come anyway. So learn it."
You nod. 
"Take up your wand", he says. "You have to learn this spell."
You pick up your wand from your pocket. Edmund orders one of his friends to stand in front of you as he holds his hand over yours, showing you how you're supposed to move. His hand is cold. The spell causes his friend's wand to be sent flying. You lay the word Expelliarmus onto your mind.
"This is actually great for dueling", he says. "We had some dueling classes last year, but I guess we'll have this year too. In that case, you'll have to have mastered these spells or you can kiss your ass goodbye."
"You'll end up in the hospital wing", one of Edmund’s friends grins.
"H-Hospital wing?" you say and damn yourself for stuttering. 
The three of them chuckles.
"Yes, little girl, hospital wing", Edmund smirks darkly. "Ending up there is never fun. People often scream in pain there. If you end up there you'll never be the same again."
Your wide eyes make Edmund laugh. He presses the book in your arms and stands up.
"Let's make a deal", Edmund says. "Do you know what quidditch is?"
"Hedwig told me on the train", you reply.
"I play. If Slytherin wins the next match, you're going to be my little maid for a full week. You'll do everything I tell you to. And if those ridiculous Gryffindors win, you're free from polishing my shoes."
"I don't get anything either way."
"Don't be greedy, transfer student."
He takes your hand and shakes it before you have time to register. 
"Now you can't back out", he smiles proudly.
"Did you enchant-?"
"Yes."
You rip your hand back, snatch your book and start to walk away. You meet up with Hedwig who's walking out of the classroom.
"What's wrong?" she asks quickly, rubbing your shoulder. "You look disturbed."
"Edmund and his friends cornered me outside. He forced me to make a deal with him."
Hedwig goes white. "What type of deal?"
"He plays quidditch and if he wins the next match, I have to be his maid for a week."
"Oh, my God, I hate him." She cups your cheeks. "We'll come up with a way to stop him or break the deal. Worst case scenario, we'll have to ruin for the entire Slytherin team and then we'll be dead, but if we have to then …"
You nod.
"Let's get you something to eat", Hedwig smiles and takes your hand.
She stays with you until your class starts. The second the classroom door closes, her smile drops. She makes her way over to the Slytherin entrance and waits for one to come out.
"What are you doing here?" the Slytherin girl asks.
"I need to speak to Edmund, do you know where he is?" Hedwig asks shortly.
"I'd suppose the quidditch court. He came in laughing and said that he had to train hard this time."
"That son of a- … thank you, for your help."
"No problem."
The Slytherin girl passes her and Hedwig scoffs. The audacity of Edmund …
She makes her way over to the quidditch court, finding him training all alone. He doesn't notice her at first, but when he does  a smirk plays on his lips. He flies down to the ground and steps off his broom, holding it close to his body.
"Well, well", he says. "I start to believe that you're obsessed with me the way you're always hanging around. By the way, did you know that there's a rumor going around about you and Y/N? You're not slick, you know. Everyone knows that you're head over heels for her."
"Cut the talk, Edmund. Break the deal with Y/N. She has enough on her plate. I'm not going to let you hurt her."
"You came here to threaten me? Careful now, Hedwig, think about what you're doing." 
"I'm not going to let you take her from me."
Edmund takes a step closer. His icy cold blue eyes seem to darken without having to change their light color. "Listen closely, you filthy, little halfblood", he hisses. "If you try to interfere — if you even try as much as to stick your pointy little nose into my business — I'll put you into the hospital wing until I'm done with Y/N. Is that clear?"
Hedwig can't answer. Edmund walks past her, intentionally hitting her shoulder with his. 
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The day for the match arrives. 
"I think that I'm going to throw up", you mutter, taking a hold of the wood railing in front of you.
The two teams are flying above you, tension growing.
"I'm sure he won't win", Hedwig says, but she sounds hesitant. 
“Slytherin has the lead!"
"Let's hope that the Gryffindor seeker gets the snitch."
"Did you manage to destroy for Edmund?"
Hedwig shakes her head carefully. You groan and rest your forehead down on the wooden railing. Another score has been made and you don't want to look. Finally, someone has caught the snitch. Slytherin wins. You look up in horror, eyes darting to Edmund. He's looking right at you with a smirk. You're dead.
Already the next morning, Edmund waits for you outside the Ravenclaw entrance. He dumps his heavy books in your hands.
"We're having a class together", he says. "And you are going to carry my books."
You groan and take a better grip on his — and your — books, unsure how you're going to carry them all to the other side of the school.
"Where's your friends?" you ask.
"They're still at breakfast", Edmund replies as you start to walk. "I don't need them now, not when you're carrying my things. Speaking of friends, I don't want you to be with that annoying Hufflepuff during the entire week."
"I'm not going to be your dog."
"Oh, yes, you are — and you're going to bark if I tell you to."
"What am I going to do when you're in class and I'm not, then? Be all alone?"
"Yes, because if I find out that you've been talking to her, I'm going to make you wish you never transferred here, got that?"
You nod. Edmund doesn't say anything more until you reach the classroom. He catches up with his friends who laugh loudly when they see you. Oh, how you wish that you knew any transfiguration spell that could turn you into a mouse.
"Look, she's embarrassed!" one of his friends mock.
Others start to turn to look at you with chuckles. Their stares burn right through you. You want to hide your face in the pile of books in your hands. 
"Sit with me", Edmund says and grabs your tie to pull you with him. "You're going to take notes for me."
You sit down in the middle of the classroom. Edmund pushes you to the chair by the wall while he takes the aisle seat, trapping you. You take notes for him while simultaneously trying to ignore that he exists. Surprisingly, you're great at multitasking. 
You give him the notes as soon as the class is dismissed. Edmund reads it with a smirk on his face.
"Good job, little girl", he says. "I can actually read them." He folds it and puts it in his pocket. "Now, let's go get some air."
Together with his two friends, you walk out to the courtyard. You can see Hedwig with some of her friends walking from the Herbology classroom. She hugs books close to her body, one being the Herbology book, the other a book about potions. You meet her eyes. She suddenly looks incredibly sad, but tries to give you a small, reassuring smile. You're close to jumping out of your skin when you feel a hand on your shoulder. Turning, you see that Edmund has noticed Hedwig as well. He squeezes your shoulder while keeping eye contact with the girl. Hedwig turns her eyes away and speeds her steps.
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Not seeing Hedwig feels like a punishment in itself. Edmund and his friends aren't pleasant, at all — or at least not his friends, Edmund’s not been as bad as you thought. He's toned down on the vulgar nicknames and started small talking when you're walking.
"Stop fucking yawning", Edmund mutters and hits you in the back of your head.
"Why are we up before the sun?" you whine and rub your eyes.
"You're going to watch my quidditch practice."
He drags you out into the cold, autumn air, over to the high wooden pillars of the quidditch court. You're sat down in the Slytherin section and told to sit there until he's done. Edmund disappears to the changing room and comes out in his quidditch uniform. You sit still, watching. You can't quite understand the rules, even if you've already watched a match. You're unsure of what Edmund’s position is or what the flying balls are used for. Every minute grows colder. When the sun has risen, you're as cold as ice. You can no longer feel your fingers or toes.
Edmund flies over to you, now holding his Slytherin scarf and gloves in his hand.
"You're so stupid, why didn't you bring your own scarf?" he mutters while tying his around your cold neck. 
"I barely knew who I was when I walked out of the common room", you mumble. "I was so tired. And now I'm cold and hungry."
"You do nothing but complain, do you? Breakfast is in an hour. Think you can hold out until then?"
You nod tiredly. 
"Good girl" he says and puts the gloves on your cold hands. "Keep your hands in the gloves and put them in your pockets. You're like a child, unbelievable."
Ironic, coming from a brat like Edmund. You take a deep breath and sink into the seat. When Edmund’s done, he changes into his normal uniform and comes to meet you. You start to take off the scarf, but his hands stop you.
"Leave it on", he says shortly. "Come now."
The second you enter the castle, you feel warmer. You're about to remove the scarf for a second time.
"God, woman, just keep it on, will you?" Edmund mutters and ties it to the point where you choke. 
"We're inside now, I don't need it anymore."
"Oh, trust me, you do."
"Why?"
Edmund smirks. "To give your girlfriend a sweet little memory."
"We're not together though."
Edmund furrows his brows and nods, clearly thinking hard.
"Very well", he says. "Winners keeper, I say."
"What?" 
"Nothing."
His icy blue eyes sparkle in a new, competitive way, like he's now gotten a new challenge. His hands tie a double knot in the scarf before sending you off to the Ravenclaw table. The others give you weird glances. By now, it's not a secret that you're Edmund’s pet. Although it's only two days left of your week, you're sure that your reputation as his dog will stay with you throughout your entire schooling. 
You look around, noticing Hedwig sitting by the Hufflepuff table. She looks at you with something you can't describe in her eyes, something dark. She holds something in her hand. You can just make out the outline of a small, pink bottle. She gives you a small, sad smile. All you want is to go over and hug her, but you remember Edmund’s warning. You have a class together after breakfast however, he can’t forbid you from going to it. 
Your plate is already set out with a glass full of pumpkin juice. Devouring it would be an understatement — especially after the morning you’ve had. You're happy no one is taking a picture.
The day continues normally after Edmund’s rude awakening. You can meet up with Hedwig in Herbology class, and oh, how happy you're to see her. You hug her tightly, earning a mirroring squeeze back. She buries her head into your hair. 
"I've missed you so much", she coos, hugging you tightly. “So, so much.”
You breathe her in, mind getting fogged up with her scent. Oh, how you want nothing more than to ditch Edmund and be with her. Hedwig doesn't seem to mind how you cling onto her and you’re surprised yourself with how much you want to hold onto her. She strokes your hair with a smile. Being back with Hedwig — despite Edmund's warnings — feels like absolute paradise. The few days spent apart has made you see her in a completely new light. You’ve forgotten how pretty she is. 
"I can't watch that anymore", she sighs and starts to remove the Slytherin scarf from your neck. "Where is your scarf, dearest?"
"In my dormitory", you answer sheepishly. 
Hedwig gives you a motherly stern gaze before taking off her Hufflepuff scarf and tying it around your neck. It smells just like her.
"That's better", Hedwig smiles. "Don't you think so?"
You nod. Much, much better. The teacher interrupts your talk with demands of the two of you working. You don't mind, because you work with Hedwig who knows exactly what to do. 
"Would you like to read on the break?" Hedwig asks you.
You nod, not even thinking about Edmund’s threats. You follow her out to the yard, sitting on one of the brick walls with her. You lay down with her head in her lap while she reads aloud for you. You can't focus on the words, only how they're formed through Hedwig's pink lips. You want to feel them on yours. Before you have time to think, you reach up to kiss her. Her lips melt into yours instantly.Hedwig lets go of her book and cups her cheeks to kiss back. Fuck Edmund, you think. You pull Hedwig closer, wanting to be filled with her and her only. Everything about her is soft, even her kisses. They're filled with love and taste like strawberry.
"What the fuck are you doing?" the voice you've just damned says angrily. "I warned you, mudblood, didn't I?"
He rips you from Hedwig, up on your feet. Edmund glances from Hedwig to you, and back. He halts and grabs a hold of your face, opening your eyes with his thumbs. 
"You sneaky bitch!" he gasps. "You've given her a love potion!"
"I have not", Hedwig replies defensively. 
"Really? Then why are her pupils heart shaped?"
Hedwig doesn't answer. Edmund grabs a hold of your arms.
"If you excuse me, I'm going to go shove my fingers down her throat to get it out of her", he says coldly.
"You are not!" Hedwig screeches and rips you back.
"Then you'll get it out of her. I don’t care how, but Y/N is going to puke that love potion out before the break is over. Y/N is still mine, remember? I have two more days to do whatever I want with her."
Hedwig groans. Edmund, you, Hedwig and Edmund’s two friends make your way to the girls bathroom. The boys wait outside while Hedwig takes you into the bathroom stalls. She helps you throw up the love potion, holding your hair in her hands. 
“And there goes my well earned breakfast …”, you sigh groggily and get up from your knees. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N”, Hedwig whispers guiltily with tears in her eyes. “I didn’t want to trick you or anything, please don’t believe that. I-I just … I was scared that Edmund had manipulated you. I had to make sure that you knew that … he wasn’t good.”
You sigh and nod heavily. “I understand, but I had wished that you hadn’t given to me without my knowledge.”
“I’m really, really sorry. Can you please forgive me?”
The tears fall down her cheeks. You can’t be mad at her, not after every nice thing she’s done to you. You can see how bad she feels. You’re sure that she won’t do it again. 
“Of course”, you say. “I’m just grateful that you didn’t make a potion that did something bad. It wasn’t the potion itself that was bad, it was the way you did it.”
“I understand. I’ll never do it again, I promise! I will never, ever do anything like that again!” She takes your hands and sniffles. “I don’t want to lose you as a friend. I-I do like you more than a friend … but I will not let that come between our friendship. Please don’t leave me. I can lose every single friend I have … but not you. Oh, God, not you.”
You can hear Edmund bang on the door to the girls bathroom impatiently and you sigh.
“I can’t spend time with you right now”, you say. “Edmund’s right — unfortunately — I have two more days in his captivity. If not, he’s promised to ruin my life. I don’t want to take that risk, I’ve had enough problems.” You squeeze her hands. “It’s just two more days.”
Hedwig sniffles and nods. “Okay.”
You give her a small smile before going back to Edmund. He tells his friends to take you further down in the corridor while he talks with Hedwig. She wipes her tears and glares at him. 
“Silly girl”, Edmund scoffs. “You’re not that bright, are you?”
“I don’t know what you want Y/N, but at least I didn’t do anything to cause her harm, like you do”, Hedwig answers sharply. “I did something that would benefit her.”
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that. Y/N belongs to me now and if you don’t want to get hurt, Hedwig, stay out of my way, got it? I’m warning you. If I were you, I’d listen.”
Hedwig takes a step closer. “I’m not going to let anybody take her from me.”
Edmund’s eyebrow twitches. “Alright then. Suit yourself.”
With that said, he walks towards his friends and you, leaving Hedwig behind. He rips of the Hufflepuff scarf. 
“Get that ugly thing off of your neck”, he mutters and drags you with him. “Can’t even leave you alone for five minutes! Can’t fucking believe that little filth. If Hedwig gets to play dirty, then I do too.” He stops to wipe of your lips. “If you ever kiss her again, I’ll kill her.”
You try push his arm off of you, but instead, it tightens and he gives you a stern look. 
“I should just do it …”, he mutters. 
“Do what?”
He gives your lips a quick peck. You stand as frozen, looking up at him in shock. Edmund rests his hand on your cheek. 
“Never kiss her again.”
2K notes · View notes
artaxlivs · 9 months
Text
Were they kidding with this bullshit? Like, seriously? So many gates opening up to different dimensions now that there were too many for Supergirl to close and this? This is what they got? Fuck this. Seriously.
"Are you a virgin?" Mike asked like the total little dickhead he is.
"So what if I am? Aren't you? And the rest of your little friends?" Eddie sniped back at the rude little bastard but then, he blanched, "actually, don't answer that. I don't want to know."
Why did this have to be happening when Eddie was on a perimeter check?
Mike rolled his eyes like he couldn't believe how ridiculous Eddie was being, "Dumbass, we're children. Unicorns never go to innocent children in fairy tales. Because we're all innocent. They go to innocent adults. Virgins." He put far too much emphasis on the word because he is, as mentioned, a little dickhead.
"Listen, fuck you and the unicorn you rode in on. I'm not fucking innocent. I've done...things. Things I'm not gonna tell you about!" Eddie sputtered, crossing his arms and almost losing his precarious balance on the tree branch.
He needed to be careful because there was a unicorn circling underneath him. And not the beautiful, ethereal kind. It was beautiful, sure, but it had blood all over his muzzle and splattered across it's chest and on it's front hooves. Probably from the last virgin it had tracked down in god knows what dimension and trampled slash eaten to death. It's eyes were blazing red fire and it had fangs. Fangs. Fuck. That.
Eddie heard Steve sighing and then he flailed an arm from Eddie's tree branch to Robin and said, "It can't be trying to get you because you're a virgin, it's not going anywhere near Robin!"
The girl in question squeaked. Her ears and cheeks went bright red. All three of them turned to look at her.
"Wait, what? Was it you know who? From the...? You didn't tell me? When did you...?" Steve asked cryptically, shedding absolutely no light on who Buckley was knocking boots with.
"Yes after we met at the...place." Robin supplied lamely and then bared her teeth and said through them, "After. But before we went back in to fight Henry slash Vecna slash One." She shrugged and let out a hysterical sounding giggle. "It was...End of the World Sex. Just in case, you know?"
"Ohhhh I'm so proud of you!" And oddly, Steve really did sound proud. Which was weird. Eddie was pretty sure Robin was gay which meant the caginess was in reference to a girl but the fact that Steve was so supportive was a little suprising.
Without actively thinking about the repercussions, Eddie's mouth decided to test that theory, "Well damn, wish I'd have thought of that. Steve - want to deflower me so this unicorn leaves me alone?" The hysterical giggle Eddie let out rivaled Robin's.
Slowly Steve turned back to him but before he could reply, Mike scoffed, "You are his type. Skinny, big bushy hair, big eyes, you and Nancy both talk like everyone is just waiting to listen to you to speak." He rolled his eyes, "Annoying."
"Rude!" Eddie tilted his head thoughtfully, "You know what though? I'm fine with it. Nancy Wheeler is a badass and I want to be her when I grow up. Or when I get down from this tree." Eddie cringed, staring down as the unicorn stopped and looked up, one of it's flaming eyes bore into him. It neighed, shaking it's gorgeous mane but also splattering little droplets of blood everywhere.
Gross. So gross.
"Huh. Now that you mention it..." Robin stared up at Eddie thoughtfully, "I totally see it."
Steve just dragged his hand down his face and glared at the angry unicorn, "Okay, we need a real plan because Eddie isn't coordinated enough to have sex in a tree." He put his hands on his hips like a baseball mom wondering if she brought enough orange slices and Shastas for the whole team. "Do we know any other adult virgins to lure this one away?"
Mike snorted, "Those are probably more rare than the unicorn.'
Eddie flipped him off, "You're rolling at disadvantage on all charisma and persuasion checks for the rest of time."
"We'll have to find a new DM when the unicorn gores you anyway," Mike shrugged. "Whatever."
Then he wandered off. Just walked away, like Eddie wasn't two feet away from being mauled by a feral beast who's name was probably Glitter Sparkle or some shit. What a dickhead.
Looking away from the unicorn, Eddie watched Robin wave Steve over and whisper to him. They had a hushed conversation for several minutes while Eddie yelled things like, "Wanna share with the class?" and "Good friends don't make shitty plans in secret!" But they ignored him. Bastards.
Until Steve turned to the tree and asked, "By 'things' what do you mean?"
What?
"Harrington, what the hell are you talking about?"
"You said you've done 'things' but not had sex. What things?" Steve brushed a hand through his miraculously still perfect hair, and sighed, obviously frustrated, "We're trying to figure out what the unicorn considers virginity. Robin's never..." He petered off and glanced back at her and then over at Mike who was half way down the block with his radio out, sitting on a bench with his back to them, probably telling everyone that Eddie still had his V card. Traitor.
He was too far away for them to hear his conversation so he was probably too far for theirs.
Robin cleared her throat. "I've never had, you know, penetrative sex. Just...um...uh...third base!" She squeaked again and then covered her face with her hands.
"You're being extremely weird about sex talk while a blood covered unicorn is stalking me like a jungle cat!" Eddie informed her. "Oral. Just say oral sex, you weirdo!"
"Ok fine!" She shouted, "I've given and reciprocated oral sex! Jesus." Then she crossed her arms and grumbled under her breath, tapping one foot on the grass.
Eddie couldn't help it. He laughed with glee. "Was she cute?"
Robin sputtered, mouth dropping in shock.
What? Did she think she was a subtle lesbian? Because she wasn't. Not at all. Her high tops had boobs drawn on them like some twelve year old boy just hitting puberty. He rolled his eyes.
Steve looked up at Eddie then. His eyebrows were arched in that way they get when he's thinking up a plan. They're not always good plans but he carries them out and everyone usually lives so, Eddie could do worse. "Well - Big Boy?" Steve's lips twitched in a smile at using Eddie's nickname for him. "I'm guessing when you said you've done 'things,' you were lying?"
"Yeah, duh." Eddie retorted, snapping in his irritation and mounting fear. Mounting, ha. Like a horse and like sex. Mounting. He bit his lip to contain the very poorly timed giggle.
Robin rolled her eyes, grabbed Steve's arm and gave him a severe 'be careful' look and then hustled over to where Mike was sitting. When Steve tucked his bat into his backpack and started to creep around the tree, he realized she was giving them privacy. Holy shit.
The unicorn didn't even acknowledge Steve's presence as he skirted around it and climbed the tree, grunting and complaining under his breath how nobody better call him the Virginsitter because he swears to God. Then the rest of his grumbling got lost, buried under the sound of Eddie's heart pounding in his ears.
Holy shit.
And that's how Eddie lost his mythically constructed virginity in a tree to Steve Harrington who was apparently bisexual and very, very good at blowjobs.
Neither of them even noticed which way the unicorn went.
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once-upon-an-imagine · 2 months
Note
I’d love a request where the reader is Bobbys daughter and dating Buck. It’s a hot day and the reader has gone to the firehouse to see everyone but she ends up feeling unwell because of the heat and Buck looks after her.
hello, love! ahh thank you so much for this request! and thanks to everyone who voted! it's my first time writing for Buck so I hope you like it! also, I'm not sure why, I swear I read somewhere that Bobby didn't know they were dating so that's kind of the course this took, so I hope that's okay! Warnings: reader faints because of the heat; I think that’s it, but always let me know if I missed anything Disclaimer: I don’t own 9-1-1 😊 gif isn’t mine 😁
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Heatwave
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"Okay, how does this look?" you asked, placing the lasagna in the middle of the table. Buck had texted you that the team was on their way back so you needed to hurry up.
"For the third time, honey, yes. It looks good" Athena said as she brought the bread with her and you went over to finish the salad you were making. You had learned a thing or two from your father and you started to actually enjoy cooking. It brought the two of you together after you lost the rest of your family, and it usually helped calm you down, but not today. "Look, I know you're nervous about telling your dad about you and Buck, but you need to breathe and relax" she said, walking closer to you.
You had been seeing Buck for a long time now. At first, you didn't want to tell your dad, mostly because you weren't even sure if the two of you were serious. Then, it got serious quickly and the two of you agreed to tell your dad when you were both ready. So now, because the two of you wanted to move in together, you knew you had to tell him. So, here you were, cooking your father's favorite meal for lunch, and hoping to have your dad in a good mood for later tonight when you were going to finally tell him.
"I know, I know" you said to Athena, who had kindly volunteered to help you since it was her day off. "It's just... my dad has hated every single boyfriend I've had" you told her.
"Oh, I know. He's told me about all the insipid, idiot, good-for-nothings you've dated before" she said, making you widen your eyes at her. "His words not mine" she said, making you roll your eyes. "But he adores Buck, like his own son. I mean, they even went to a Bruce Springsteen concert together" she reminded you.
"Ugh, I know, nobody loves Springsteen as much as those two" you said, making Athena let out a chuckle. "Look, I know he loves Buck... as part of his team. I'm not sure if he's gonna love Buck as my boyfriend" you said, nervously.
"Of course he will. Because as much as he loves Buck, he loves you more than anything and anyone" she reminded you. "And he's going to see how happy he makes you" she smiled.
"You really think so?" you asked, smiling back.
"I really do" she nodded. It actually meant a lot to you what Athena thought too. You knew she didn't particularly like Buck at first, but she had mentioned to you how he's changed and how she sees that the two of you brought out the best in each other. "Looks like they're here" she said, when you saw the truck pulling into the station.
"Okay" you said, placing the salad on the table. "I think the bear claws are done" you said, wiping your hands on your apron, and went over to the oven.
"Really? You had to make his favorite dessert?" Athena said, rolling her eyes. "Aren't you trying a bit too hard?"
"Better safe than sorry" you smiled nervously.
"Hey, what's all this?" Hen asked, being the first one to get upstairs.
"Do I smell your dad's famous lasagna?" Chim was the next one to appear. "Please tell me I'm right" he smiled, seeing at the setup table.
"You are correct" you smiled.
"Oh, this is why you're my favorite Nash" he smiled.
"Hey! I heard that" you heard your father coming up. "This is a nice surprise" he smiled, looking at the two of you before he went over to his wife and gave her a kiss.
"Yeah-" Athena started before you interrupted her.
"It was Athena's idea" you quickly said. "I uh, just... tagged along to help with the cooking" you smiled as Buck and Eddie finally made it upstairs.
"Hey, little Nash" Eddie said, walking over to greet you. Aside from Athena, he was the only one who knew about the two of you. And Christopher.
"Well, I'm happy to see you" Bobby said, before walking over to you and kissing your head. "Both of you" he added. "This looks good, duck" he smiled as you rolled your eyes a little.
"Why is it that he calls you duck?" you heard Chimney ask when he was taking his seat.
"Why does he call you Chimney?" you smirked and he glared at you.
Your dad laughed and walked over to the table with Athena as he started telling Hen and Chim that he called you duck because you used to be a really grumpy kid and when you were a toddler, you sounded like Donald Duck whenever you argued with him about something.
"Hey" Buck said, walking closer to you as you walked to the oven. "How are you feeling?" he smiled.
"I'm... fine" you smiled wearily.
"You're a terrible liar" he chuckled.
"I know" you said, opening the oven and feeling the heat struck you. It was already extremely hot outside. This just made it ten times worse. "I'm just a little nervous" you said, getting back up, suddenly feeling dizzy, and making you drop the tray with bear claws a bit faster and louder than you intended on the counter, getting the attention of the four people on the table.
"Whoa" Buck said, worriedly, getting closer to you.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Eddie asked. "You're sweating a lot"
"Yeah, no I just... felt a bit light-headed" you said, placing your wrist on your forehead.
"Did you eat something today? Maybe you need to sit down" Buck said pulling you closer to him. "Look at me" he instructed.
"I'm fine, sweetheart-" you tried smiling before Buck saw your eyes roll over to the back of your head and you collapsed in front of him. He quickly wrapped his arms around your waist, preventing you from falling all the way to the ground.
"Bobby!" Buck yelled, even if Bobby was already rushing to you as Buck and Eddie carried you to the sofa.
"Chim! Hen! Get your bag!" Bobby ordered. "What happened?"
"I think it's the heat" Eddie said as Chimney came running back up with his bag, handing Hen what she needed.
"Did she eat anything at all today?" she questioned.
"Not while she was with me" Athena replied.
"She didn't have breakfast either" Buck said, feeling guilty. He was the main reason why you were late and didn't have breakfast.
"What? She didn't?" Bobby asked, confused. "Wait, how do you know that?"
"Um... she texted me?" Buck smiled, nervously as Eddie and Athena shared a look, thinking it was probably best to give everyone some space.
"You two... text each other?" Bobby asked as Chimney and Hen shared a different, confused look.
"Oh, I did not see this coming" Chim muttered to Hen.
"Seriously? You didn't?" she asked before going back to examining you.
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You slowly opened your eyes and realized you were at the 118 station and you had a cold cloth pressed against your forehead. You tried to sit up but Buck quickly ran over to you.
"Whoa, easy there, love" he said, sitting on the coffee table in front of you. "Hi" he smiled sweetly at you, offering you a bottle of water. "How are you feeling?"
"A bit dumb, to be honest" you chuckled, accepting the water and taking a sip. "W-what happened?"
"You fainted" he reminded you. "Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me you hadn't eaten today?"
"I'm sorry" you frowned. "I didn't think it would be a big deal. I didn't have time to eat this morning and, then I went to work, and then I started cooking and I lost track of time and, I guess the heat didn't help" you said shyly.
"No, it didn't" your dad said, walking over and sitting on the edge of the sofa. "How are you feeling duck?"
"A bit better" you said.
"Well, it's a good thing your boyfriend is always alert and quick on his feet" he said, casually.
"Yeah, he- wait, what did you say?" you froze, realizing what he'd just say. "Did I hit my head?" you asked Buck. "Did my dad just call you my boyfriend?"
"Yeah, I'm sorry, sweetheart" Buck smiled apologetically. "I know you had a whole thing planned tonight, but I let it slip that you didn't have breakfast today, and well... I kind of told him" he explained.
"Y-you did?" you asked, feeling a bit nauseous again. "Does he know we're moving in together?"
"What?!"
"He does now" Buck said with a tight-lipped smile.
"You're moving in together?" your dad asked.
"I uh-" you stuttered. "Y-yeah" you admitted. "W-we were going to tell you tonight at dinner" you insisted.
"Is that why you came to make my favorite lunch? So I'd be in a good mood?" he asked, knowing you too well.
"M-maybe?" you smiled. "A-are you mad?"
"No, honey. I'm not mad" he chuckled, pulling you closer and kissing your temple. "I don't love the fact that you hid it from me for so long" he added. "But I'm glad you're with someone who I know cares about you as much as I know Buck does" he smiled. "And, if I'm being honest, I kind of suspected it for a while" he said, surprising you.
"You did not" you glared at him.
"You both are terrible liars and I mean, you only make bear claws when you're giving me bad news" he smirked, making you roll your eyes.
"Wait, does that mean, I'm bad news?" Buck asked.
"What? N-no" you said unconvincingly. "I make them when I'm not sure how he will react" you insisted.
"Yeah" Bobby said. "To bad news" he repeated with a chuckle. I'm glad you're happy, duck" he told you.
"Thanks, dad" you smiled. "I really am" you told him.
"I'm gonna go get you something to eat, okay?" he said, getting up and kissing your head again. "Don't ever scare me like that again" he muttered before walking away.
"So, your dad knows about us" Buck smiled at you.
"Yeah, and it didn't go bad at all" you said, excitedly.
"Not bad at all? Sweetheart, do I need to remind you that you just fainted?"
"Well, yeah but... I mean aside from that" you pouted, making him smile at you before giving you a peck on the lips.
"You really scared me" he said, worriedly.
"I'm sorry, love" you insisted.
"You don't have to apologize" he said. "Especially since it was kind of my fault you didn't have breakfast" he said, blushing a little. "But now that we are going to live together, I will make sure you don't leave the house without eating first" he instructed, making you roll your eyes a little.
"Fine" you smiled before he leaned in for another kiss. "I love you" you told him.
"I love you too" he smiled.
The End
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A/N: aahhh! I hope you loves liked it!
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weirdworldofwinnie · 7 months
Text
Happy Halloween!🎃Here's a treat for all you Jonathan Crane lovers out there:
Face Me...
Dr. Jonathan Crane aka Scarecrow x Female Reader (NSFW 18+ only smut)
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Summary: You work at Arkham Asylum in Gotham and Dr. Crane has been stalking you for a while, but you are leery of him and have been avoiding him outside of professionalism at all costs. One night though as you are leaving work, he tracks you down at your car to see just what you're so afraid of.
Word Count: ~4,426
Warnings: Semi-rough car sex, non-con elements, forced oral (male receiving), dirty talk/language, slight degradation, hair pulling, slapping, stalker behavior, talk of virginity loss, birth control, Dr. Crane being kind of a creep in general
Note: Reader does not know he is actually Scarecrow! And images above are sourced from Pinterest. This story is based only on Cillian Murphy's version in the Batman films and is my interpretation of the character; I don't own him or any part of the franchise, this is just for fun.
Tonight was swathed in misty sheets of rain in the gritty darkness lightly tainted by the glow of streetlights as your car, parked a few blocks from Arkham Asylum, beeped to unlock and you slung your purse over your shoulder, sighing after a long day and wanting to get home to a hot bath and a drink or two. But a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach at a shadow from your peripheral vision made you hesitate and you squinted through the hazy shower that was tapering off to a light drizzle, dampening your hair.
A suited man, height on the shorter side, was stopped no more than twenty feet away and a jarring jolt rushed to your bones when you saw the street light glint off his narrow framed glasses and you paused, hand on the car door. He was utterly silent and you were unnerved by his stiff posture and oddly clenched fists, half thinking to jump in your four-door-sedan and peel out of his presence, but he then walked forward causally, those hands relaxing and slipping into the pockets of his black slacks.
"Good evening," he called out, stepping into view under a streetlight with a smirk and you clenched your jaw, crossing your arms defensively as he slowly approached, that sick smile never sliding off his features that were - you'd have to admit - frankly handsome... No, beautiful was a better term.
"Why are you stalking me, Dr. Crane?" you asked with edginess to your tired voice. It was late and you didn't even live in Gotham City, you just commuted here for work.
"Stalking? Oh no, I am simply observing," he replied smoothy, but it came off as more snappy and insincere.
"Right... Don't you have somewhere to go?"
"Do you?"
"Yeah, home to my apartment miles away. It's been an exhausting day and too late to be out on the town, so if you're proposing anything, I can't take it tonight."
"It's always a long, late night in Gotham."
He moved within a few feet of you and you swallowed nervously, but remembered a man like him could smell fear, so you put up a brave front.
"So when do you finally fuck off and leave me alone? It's unprofessional to follow someone without their permission, you know. Keep this up and I'll need a restraining order."
"But you always avoid me during work and now you reject my offer for simple company?"
"Company late at night at my car in the rain? And aren't you technically my boss? We aren't friends and I don't know why you're so interested in me, but I don't think you should be. I'm not looking for a man like you. Right now I'm just looking for a nice glass of red wine honestly."
"Really...?" he drew the word out to almost a parodying tone and you pursed your lips.
"Yes, really. Now I bid you goodnight, Dr. Crane." You opened the car door fully, ducking and stepping a foot in when the door caught and you looked up to see him holding it in a firm grip. He was stronger than you expected.
"Stop denying it, I see the way you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention. Stop hiding and face me once and for all," he insisted darkly.
You took a breath, desperately trying to calm your beating heart and yet the horrible feeling that this evening wasn't going to end on a dull note persisted.
"Don't hurt me, I'll-" you started to warn and his eyebrows shot up with a shake of his head.
"Call the police?" It sounded like mockery from his mouth and you scowled as he continued, his pale hand sprinkled with rainwater sliding up and down the car door frame.
"Hurt you, hm? Well, only if you want me to." He chuckled and you stared at his slightly floppy dewey dark hair and raised eyebrows.
"Why the hell would I want you to hurt me?"
"You tell me. I do know you secretly want something else, don't you? Something more... erotic?"
You scoffed angrily, hating how he was worming his way past your exterior and into attraction, but you couldn't let it happen.
"Take a raincheck. I'm going home." You tried to shut the door but he was still holding it in a death grip, knuckles white and veins bursting out the back of his hand.
"Stop fucking around, I don't have time for this sh-" you cut off your sentence with a yelp as Dr. Crane shoved you inside the backseat of your own car and you landed flat on your back as he came inside to hover over your vulnerable body, wetting his pink lips.
"Please! Don't do this!" you cried out of panic and he leaned back, breathing heavily.
"Don't go anywhere," he warned and you struggled to sit up, throwing your purse up front and he slammed the side door shut, getting more comfortable in the backseat, which you were not pleased about.
"This is MY car, get out," you commanded, but he was as cool as a cucumber as he cleaned his glasses with a cloth from his suit jacket.
"I just want to talk one on one, which we never do outside of the usual board meetings and it can be so boring, always about psychiatry and stats and police reports and this patient and these crazies and-"
"Oh sure you just want to talk. I'm not some kind of naive idiot to the desires of the opposite sex," you rolled your eyes and he scoffed, settling back on the seat with a cross of his legs and looking up to the car ceiling.
"It's so cold and wet tonight, shame we aren't someplace more cozy," he muttered and you awkwardly crawled into the driver's seat with your keys and fumbled to insert them in, starting the ignition.
"What are you doing there?" he asked mildly and even that sounded passive aggressive. God, he sure was insufferable.
"Turning the heat on because you're whining about it. I just wish you'd get out of here, completely violating my privacy."
"This is a public street you're parked on, isn't it? And is this how you treat all passengers?"
"I never have any passengers," you remarked bitterly and Crane leaned forward, putting his hands on the back of the seat and peering around to you as you glanced at him in the rearview mirror.
"Indeed. I know you're mostly a loner with almost no friends and orphaned from family or maybe you've lied and they aren't dead and are only estranged... Either way, no one cares and no one understands how you spend office hours in a facility full of the most criminally insane but you do it for the money and to quench your curiosity because deep down, you know - you know you're a freak too who sees no normal in what you have deemed a, oh say... corrupt kind of world."
You swallowed at his assertions and unfortunately fairly accurate reading.
"I don't need sympathy from you of all people," you snapped, putting the heat to full blast. It was freezing tonight and the defrost was battling the condensation filling up the windshield.
"I'm only trying to understand you myself, it's my job to psychoanalyze."
"I'm not one of your patients or experiments," you told him in disgust.
"Every human being is an experiment in the eyes of their creator, which is me for you because I happen to be the one who hired you in the first place. Without me, you would not have a job and therefore I created you in that respect," he replied in absurd smugness.
"Then what am I? Frankenstein's monster?"
His eyes flashed and he adjusted his glasses reflexively.
"I wish. No, you're my first prototype I have yet to diagnose."
You shut the heat off once the internal temperature was fairly toasty and cracked a window down a fraction for circulation. A beat of silence befell until he suddenly climbed into the front, dropping into the passenger seat confidently, and you realized how lithe he was, how easily he fit into spaces not designed for someone with such an overshadowing, all-encompassing ego.
"Now what are you doing?" you asked exasperatedly. He didn't answer and you hated the way looking at him was making your heart flutter despite your anger and the alarm bells ringing in your brain. Something about him was always... very off and you never could quite place your finger on it, he was a blind spot, but it was undeniable. Which was telling considering the people you were exposed to every day.
Crane reached up and removed his glasses entirely with a swipe to set them on the dash and your breath caught with that simple action. You admitted how he was very visually pleasing without those lens obstructing his intense blue colored orbs were. You glanced down and fiddled with the keys when he suddenly snatched them up out of your lap and pocketed them into his own pants with a manic expression.
"Hey, give those back!" you yelled and began to wrestle with him, arms flailing as he held his own above his head, palms up and empty.
"You want those? You have to do something for me first."
"I-Okay, what is it?" You dropped your arms and glared at him suspiciously. He smirked once, speaking with a tremor of excitement.
"If I was civilized, which I'm admittedly not, I'd ask you out on an old fashioned dinner date and then walk you to your door, give you a nice polite kiss and send flowers to your desk on Monday. But I can't wait anymore for that saccharine romantic scenario, so we'll get straight down to business. I want to fuck your brains out, right here in the car."
You blinked, rather stunned.
"I... I-I no, I can't, I mean that's-"
And here was where your confidence utterly failed as he suddenly lunged and grabbed you to pin you down inbetween the passenger and driver seats, head flung upside down almost to the backseat floor and legs helplessly kicking towards the windshield.
"Please, don't do this!" you yelped anxiously.
"Don't tell me you're a virgin who has never had a dick in you before," he whispered, misreading your fearful hesitant expression. Actually, you'd had sex once with a lame boyfriend back in college and since then, avoided the dating and hookup scene, content just to masturbate when you could.
"Oh, fuck, I should've guessed. What a shocking discovery," he wrongly concluded rather sarcastically and you cringed, twisting your head away from his warm breath and ridiculously good looks.
"This makes it all the more interesting, then," he murmured with a feathery caress to your cheek and you flinched, giving him a kick and successfully wriggling out of his grasp to curl up against the door in the backseat.
"I've been waiting a long time for our encounter," he mused, utterly unfazed at the negative reaction.
You immediately went to open the door, ready to run for your life if he became overly threatening, but he hit the button that locked all the doors. You manually unlocked your one door - thank God for that safety feature - but his deadly voice made you freeze.
"Are you quite sure you want to do that?"
"T-This is my ensured vehicle and y-you are violating every right of mine by t-taking over like this," you stated, but your voice was shaking like a leaf through the words.
"That's it, you are afraid of me..." he whispered slowly and the pure delight with pride in his voice was unmistakable. You turned to look at him directly, unable to hide and deny anything any longer.
"I think you are being very inappropriate right now," you admitted nervously.
Crane moved to join you in the backseat, but you felt stuck even though you could technically open the door and make an escape. There was no way he could really stop you, was there? He didn't have a weapon on him, did he?
"If you were really frightened, you would have bolted by now," he said as though reading your thoughts and you gulped, realizing he was right.
"Dr. Crane, I-" you were broken off by him abruptly grabbing your face and kissing you, his tongue sloppily forcing its way into your mouth and you naturally reciprocated while inhaling his sharp stinging scent of expensive cologne. He pulled back with a gasp and a mischievous spark in his eyes that made something awaken deep inside.
"You kissed me," you said in a stunned voice.
"That's precisely what I did, Y/N," he answered with another touch of smugness and you closed your eyes, knowing you were in too deep now. He was going to take this all the way and you felt helpless to stop it. Did you even want to stop him?
"I knew if I exposed myself enough to you, you'd finally stop being immune," Crane told you with a sort of self-righteousness as he ran his hands down your back and shrugged your coat off before moving to your front to remove your blouse carefully, button by button.
"I hate to see such pretty tits contained and so oppressed... Let's free them, shall we?"
He unclasped your bra and removed it, tossing it to the floor and you shivered, goosebumps peppering your bare arms and neck.
"Aww, is it too cold?" He made a pout and privately you wanted to smack those stupid lips right off his condescending face but it was if you were under a spell of a sudden, entranced by his actions and his hypnotic eyes. He trailed his fingers down from your throat to your nipples and you hardened at the stimulation, closing your eyes in regret. Dr. Crane was turning you on, dammit.
"Better than I could imagine..." he breathed, taking in your appearance for a minute while groping your breasts, squeezing, and you gritted your teeth as he teasingly tickled you under your arms, making your breath hitch and a stupid giggle slipped out.
"Sensitive, are we? I promise I won't hurt you."
You leaned back, casting a fretful look out the windows in case of onlookers, but the street was empty and the glass was streaky with rain, creating a thickly translucent rippled covering not unlike a shower curtain.
"No one knows," Crane stated flatly in response to your paranoia while untying his dress shoes and pushing them under the seats. You just nodded, taking off your own and then unzipping your pants the same time he undid his own. His tight dark grey briefs were bulging with his cock and you hesitated, absolutely unsure of what to do when he completely stripped and out popped out his erect glistening-at-the-tip penis in full view.
"Take it in your mouth," Crane ordered abruptly, pushing you down beneath him.
"Um, no I think that's disgus-" Your voice was cut off as you nearly choked; he roughly shoved his cock so fast into your parted mouth. The silky end of his tie tickled your nose as he inched closer, and clearly this was much more enjoyable for him than it was for you as he groaned in building ecstasy and you kept your mouth closed around it, afraid that if you moved, you'd gag or get hurt. He forced your head up a little and bobbed, but you could feel a dribble of precum seeping down your throat and now you reflexed, yanking yourself from him with a loud noise and banging the car door open to cough and spit violently out onto the pavement below.
"Get back in, do you want someone to see us?!" Crane hissed and you felt a sharp tug on your hair as he pulled you back. You shrieked and self defensively twisted to slap him straight in the face. He gasped from the unexpected blow, falling back and banging his head on the opposite window as you spat, wiping your lips of his mess.
"Can't take it like a common whore, can you? Feel like being a goddamn difficult bitch, don't you? Think you're better than me, do you?" he seethed, rubbing his cranium and you huffed.
"I thought you'd just put your dick in me, not that bullshit."
"It's called oral and many women in fact enjoy it."
"How do you know, you've done that before?"
He had a strange expression when he replied briskly.
"I've read up on the concept, you know."
"You've studied about women and sex. Amazing. Is that what you do on your lunch break or...?" you almost laughed, but the way he was staring at you wasn't in a joking manner. He had the look of an inmate one straw away from a full psychotic behavior break down. Basing from your training, you decided to distract his frustrating anger and talk nonchalantly to calm him down.
"Okay, I'm kidding around, I get it, and I don't mean to hate or spite you. Remember when I was initially employed at Arkham, fresh out of college, and I met you for the first time? I personally thought you were extremely cocky and looked waaay too young to be a top psychiatrist in such a grand high security institution. Now I can say with certainty that while you are, um, creative in your methods with the inmates and I do admit I find you very terribly attractive, I have to say Dr. Crane... I still think you're an arrogant son of a bitch."
"Call me Jonathan," he replied, unimpressed by the insult and wrestling off his tie.
"Well, Dr. Jonathan, you sure are a pretty piece of work," you replied with ample attitude and he was fed up, dumping his jacket and shirt from his body and twisting the tie in his fingers. He held it up and a muscle spasmed in face, jaw clenching and enunciating his cheekbones.
"You want me to choke you with this?"
"I'd really prefer you didn't and it would be very nice if you weren't such a dick forcing your sex on me," you answered matter-of-factly.
"Lie down or I'll fucking fire you from your position, understand?" he snapped loudly and was extremely serious as you glared, but then reluctantly laid back obediently on the seats just to avoid complications and he came down swiftly, carefully aligning to position his penis at your entrance. He cautiously touched the moist head to your vaginal lips when you held up a hand onto his chest, stopping him.
"Now hang on doctor, don't you want to warm up first?"
"I'm obviously already warmed up, Miss Y/LN."
"But I don't have lubricant on me, so you're going to have to get me naturally very wet for penetration because right now I'm dry as a bone," you warned for your own protection, but hardly expected him to listen.
"Don't tell me how to do it," he replied, snippy.
"I'm serious, you can't just stick it in there; it will be just as hard for you as it'll be for me and I don't want to end up seeing a gynecologist."
"So you aren't a virgin after all?"
"I had my hymen broken with a loser in the past," you told him and he raised one brown eyebrow, creasing his forehead with a few fine lines.
"Then how should I start, Miss doctor?"
You wordlessly took a hold of his index finger and guided it to your opening and he pressed lightly, feeling pooling liquid.
"You little liar, you're already discharging," he whispered disapprovingly and he massaged your clit in slow jerky rhythm. You nodded in approval, losing your control as he slipped a finger in and moved around enough to make you clench a bit, trapping his digit.
"How does that feel?" he asked almost clinically and you closed your eyes, urging him to put in another finger. He did and you almost orgasmed when he extracted much too soon, sighing.
"This isn't much fun for me," he whined and you made a face, shifting position to spread your legs wider, putting your arms up and accidentally smearing the fogged window with your fingertips. You looked utterly submissive, practically begging to be fucked, to get it over with (so you convinced yourself).
But for all his aggression to trap you in your own car for penetrative sex, Jonathan was now becoming oddly timid as he hesitantly closed the gap between you, realigning his bare body to yours.
"Wait, have you done this before?" you asked suspiciously and he was sheepish in answering.
"I told you, you are my first prototype."
"Shit, you're the virgin here?!" You laughed as though this made this experience any less stressful or partially contrived.
"Do you masturbate?" you then asked and he rolled his eyes.
"What kind of man of do you think I am?"
"Is that yes or no?"
"Doesn't matter, Y/N. Now, let me ask you a more important question: are you on birth control of any type?"
"I..." you hesitated to answer because if you told him 'no' would he go any further? You had pills at home as a precaution, but neglected to ever take them, assuming you'd be remaining single. But you had no intention of getting into a full relationship and certainly not being impregnated by this man.
"I left them at home," you finally answered truthfully.
"I have something for that then," he assured and you stared as he leaned back and rummaged in the pockets of his clothes on the floor. He produced a tiny pill container and dropped a pill into your open palm. You didn't ask why he was carrying around birth control pills, but assumed he had indeed been planning this for a while.
"Don't want any unnecessary side effects of something that I'll have to end up terminating anyway," he muttered bitterly as you popped it in and climbed into the driver's seat to swig some water from your plastic bottle in the cupholder, feeling grateful that at least he didn't administer that Fear Toxin he was always messing around with in the asylum.
"Now can we get started?" Jonathan asked impatiently and you took a breath, easing the front seat down so you were lying parallel to him. Jonathan clamored on top of your naked flesh and straddled you, his cock rubbing up against your thighs, then vaginal area and you squirmed, clutching onto his back. He pushed in gradually, but densely, and you whimpered at the stinging pain and then the growing pleasure bubbling around his cock within your walls and you clenched hard, much harder than you had with his fingers.
"Oh... Fuck, Jonathan..." you groaned and he bounced up and down lightly, thrusting with slaps of skin and you felt your bottom sticking with sweat to the leather seat as he kept at it for several minutes, gripping your hips and nearly plowing you apart. It hurt, no getting around it, and he wasn't privy to what you were feeling as he seemed entirely in his own zone, racing for his pleasure until you moaned loud enough to cause him glance down, realizing you were getting close to free falling off the edge.
"C'mon, you're so close with that pretty little pussy of yours, almost..." Jonathan breathed in your ear and as he hit the spot, finally the climaxing orgasm came with a bang and it was so intense, probably fueled by adrenaline and stress more than actual love, that you emitted a high pitched shrieking whine which trailed into a low moan of relief while it tapered off and he grunted, somehow thrusting even further. Yes, you had minimal experience, but had never ever been penetrated this far before and you dreaded how much longer he could rail you, but thankfully his own orgasm came with a grunting groan as he spilled into you and you held on, digging nails into his shoulder blades and nearly biting his neck. He panted heavily in your ear and his tickle of breath made your stomach flip.
He laid still on top of you for awhile, cock twitching and warming your insides. The windows were fogged up completely and the cold was now non-existent with the heat you and him were creating out of friction alone.
"You enjoy yourself?" you whispered hoarsely to Jonathan as his breathing slowed sluggishly and he looked like he was falling asleep, so you shoved him off your aching body and he blinked, rubbing his forehead.
"Yeah, that was satisfactory. Maybe I should bump up your paycheck."
"I'm not a prostitute, but thank you."
He smiled lazily, eyes rather unfocused, and you pulled your seat up with the lever, reaching for his glasses on the dash and handing them back to him. He, in turn, retrieved the car keys from his pants and tossed them back to you with a clanging jingle.
Casting a look around your car, there were streaky handprints on the fogged glass, thin swipes of fingers and imprinted palms decorating the back windows and you reached over to one and drew a heart outline in a patch of blank space. Jonathan's own finger speared through it, making a arrow.
"Very romantic," you commented sarcastically and moved to join him in the backseat as he started to draw a creepy face reminiscent of a familiar spooky icon (a clown? Maybe a scarecrow?) when he stopped and checked his watch.
"I need to go," Jonathan coldly stated out of the blue and began to hastily gather up his clothing, awkwardly dressing before he stepped outside and zipped up his pants, and inhaled the late October city air, somewhat out of breath. The rain had stopped and the skies were clearing, the full pearly white moon slicing through the curtain of storm clouds, and you drew your blouse around yourself with a shiver before sliding into underwear, realizing you'd never look at Dr. Crane the same since this intimately raw experience.
"So I'll be seeing you around tomorrow...?" you wondered aloud and although you meant for that to be purely work related, he clearly took it the other direction.
"Oh, I'll be seeing you." He smirked knowingly and then slammed the car door closed in your face, leaving you sore and to reel from whatever the hell this twisted specimen of a man just put you through. Did you like it?
Maybe.
Thanks for reading 🖤 First time writing for Jonathan Crane, so I hope this was halfway decent!
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