#I’ve disappointed myself too before

[everythingseasoning]

/not being a hater/ You ever see somebody mischaracterize a character so bad and just sigh and roll your eyes …Like bro, there’s evidence that goes against everything you think about [character name] being an alpha giga chad or a cutie crybaby or a good dad. And it’s not a big deal cause I can scroll past it + talk to the people I trust in (those who see nuance.) But when I see mischaracterizations happening, I just think, “How can I trust somebody’s judgement if they don’t understand a character they love so much?”

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

being sick as an adult sucks. wdym my mom won’t just automatically make sure I eat food instead of exclusively drinking Gatorade all day. wdym I have to ask my roommates to make me dinner. I have to Venmo a friend money to buy me more Gatorade?? I can’t focus enough to do homework??? I hate this.

[justgoji]

fuck.

[retiredteabag]

Sukuna would be a super challenging project partner in school.

Say what you like but he absolutely would be the type of person to expect you to do all the work. That, or he would pretend he didn’t understand and wait for you to get frustrated and do it yourself.

He would be popular, but not in the “likable” kind of way, but in the same way that kids always love the teacher that (not so secretly) hates them. He despised how people followed him around, trying to hold a conversation. Despite this, it was as if his fellow students were attracted to him like magnets.

Not you though, you didn’t like a man with an ego. You saw him roll his eyes and sleep in class. You saw as he crawled into his desk at the far back of the classroom, spreading his tattooed thighs in an undignified manor.

And when you were paired with him from a dual project? You could cry with frustration.

He would simply raise a brow at you with his arms crossed as you tried to explain what was needed for the assignment.

“Do you… understand?” Sukuna had hardly spoken a word to you, not just in this exchange, but in all your time at the school.

He would simply grunt, smacking his palms on the table, rising from his chair and sliding your page of notes into his hand. “Cool to go?”

How was it he could sound annoyed without you even doing anything to upset him?

“Right…” you sigh.

You would be working together for up to an hour after class twice a week, and as finals approached, you decided you needed to meet once on Fridays as well in the library.

The pink-haired man would hardly spare you so much as a glance as he scrolled on his phone during class and work time.

When you would text, requesting his portion of the project, he would respond hours later with, “I’ll just turn it in myself.”

You would grind your teeth.

No. Way. Absolutely no shot in the world were you going to allow this delinquent to turn in homework correlated with your name inversely bring your grade down.

You would politely insist on seeing (editing) his work, for organizational purposes only, of course. And his response?

“You worry too much”

You near throttled your innocent roommate with anger at his laissez faire attitude after reading his late message one evening.

On one particularly cruel Friday, you were seriously feeling the effects of finals crawling into your brain. You had hardly slept, spilled coffee on your textbook, and experienced car troubles that caused you to be late to class.

Staying to the end of the lecture to apologize to your professor for this lapse, you expected an understanding, “Hey, no worries, life happens, I’ve been there.” And instead received and overtly harsh, “Do you know how much participation counts for in my class? Don’t let it happen again.”

Was it childish? Yes. Was it overly emotional? Also yes. But did ever ounce of your validation come from the adult figures in your life? Of course. So how could you not cry at the knowledge that you had disappointed, let down, upset, one of the professors you had previously admired?

By the time you reached your seats in the library Sukuna was already laid across his own spot, not unlike a jungle cat.

This was the first time he had arrived before you.

Another wave of shame passed your consciousness at the thought of this no-good-trouble-maker showing up to the library with more dependability than you, and huffed a sigh.

Sukuna rolled his neck back down when you sat across from him. As usual, no words passed between you, but he seemed to be observing you closely.

He didn’t pull out his phone, he didn’t grumble responses. No, in fact, be pulled out a notebook and took notes. Finalized an outline for points of contention in his part of the project. And even seemed to consider your own writings (that you had been sending him weekly).

And even as you were starting to rise from your seat, he didn’t race off, groaning as if he had just wasted an hour of his life he regretted to never see again, but rather, stood slowly, and leaned down to try and catch your gaze.

Eventually, you had to meet his eyes, patient beast he was, and as your arms fumbled with your backpack, he just raised an eyebrow and murmured,

“Take care.”

Before he was gone.

Imagine your shock when your professor grades the paper and presentation you had been slaving over, after being horrified with the end result due to Sukuna inability to send his part in and after a panicked email about how unsportsman your teammate was, begging to please please please take into consideration the difference between students, with a glowing review, claiming that it was always a privilege to read “the two of y’all’s work”.

Turns out the delinquent who slept in class, avoided contact with fellow students, never so much as attempted to prove his understanding of the project, and stared blankly at you as your “tutored” him on the subject, was neck and neck with you as top student in class.

Son of a bitch.

[blvdheart]

LIKE A LITTLE PIECE OF HEAVEN

→ Sneaking around with your grandparents’ ranch hand during the summer!

CW: x Fem!reader with she/her pronouns, starts with fluff and turns into smut, switch!Leon, dry humping, cowgirl, butterfly (i think that’s the position name?), fingering, short hold the moan snippet, reader wears a sundress at one point, mention of a palm injury via a cut

WC: 1.8k

NOTE: written just for fun to entertain myself during an excruciatingly long car ride, sorry that it’s fast paced </3 title lyric is from ‘tulsa jesus freak’ also i tried my best at a southern accent for him okay

MASTERLINK

You always complained whenever your parents sent you on your annual trip to your grandparents’ place. Mosquitoes ran rampant and a prayer whilst holding hands was mandatory before every meal. Summer was supposed to be a break so you could be lazy in bed all day, but now you had to go help tend to the animals.

Sure, farm animals are cute and all…but gushing over how adorable they are is much different from actually taking care of them. So much for that ‘Charlotte’s Web’ childhood dream of yours, none of the pigs are like Wilbur!

But you had a change of attitude when you went the summer after your freshman year of college. Upon your arrival, your suitcase was hauled by strong skin-kissed hands, like if your packed belongings weighed a mere pound.

Looking up, your eyes met irises that rivaled the beauty of the ocean.

Oh.

You almost had to physically lift your jaw back up to introduce yourself. Then you ran upstairs to bury your face into your pillow.

Leon Kennedy. Would his last name suit your first name? Or vice versa? Jesus.

That first summer was full of fleeting glances and flirtatious conversation. There was something romantic about being in a space far away from civilization. Like you were in your own little universe with him whenever the two of you snuck around. During dinners, you always nudged at his leg with your boot to mess with him, liking the way he cleared his throat to ward off a smile.

And maybe you relied on silly methods to see if your feelings for him were reciprocated.

Pluck.

He likes me.

Pluck.

He likes me not.

Pluck.

He likes me.

Pluck.

He likes me not.

Pluck. Last one.

He likes me!!!

Childish excitement coursed through you, an instantaneous smile on your face. You thanked Mother Nature for giving you the answer you wanted.

You also thanked the Sun every day for gifting freckles to Leon. One day, you held onto his face and tried to count them all. Squinting your eyes, you counted aloud, missing the way he looked at you with nothing but sweetness in his gaze.

The world around you was muted, as if the cows standing behind the fence had stopped mooing just for the sake of your concentration.

“Sure this is gonna work? Listen, I’ve always been an optimistic fella but—“

“Shh, you’re distracting me.” After a beat, you groaned. “Fuck I lost count. Okay, hold still for real this time.”

“Sure, doll.” She’s real cute, he thought to himself.

Or that one time when the Sun’s beams were too hot and made Leon take his hat off so he could pour a fresh bucket of water on his head. You felt so betrayed at the sight.

“You’re shitting me!”

“What?”

“Your roots…” Not very polite, but you pointed at his hair. “I thought you were blonde. Like, born blonde.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” He hid his amusement with a shrug, lowering his head to give you a better look. “Haven’t had time to dye it.”

And of course, you owed the Moon some gratitude for being an audience member to a memory you cherished. If said memory could be physically stored, you’d keep it on a frame so you could rewatch the moment your relationship blossomed.

The confession came when two heartbeats aligned, two bodies snuggled against each other on top of the roof. Leon gazed at you as if you hung up the stars and moon that were beautifully assorted in the sky, the same ones he had admired all alone prior to you coming here. He never thought he’d have a pretty woman wanting to get to know him.

“This is crazy…I can actually see the constellations out here.” Your words were a murmur, the glimmering dots above reflecting in your pupils.

“And ya couldn’t back at home?”

“Pfft. With all the pollution in the city? Not a chance.”

“Yeah? Mus’ be a special night for ya, then.”

It was. But not because of the view, rather, because of the handsome guy holding you close like you were his girlfriend.

“Yeah, it is.”

A hat was placed onto your head. His hat.

You broke your admiration of the stars, turning to look at him instead. The tip of his nose brushed against yours, suddenly his hand was cupping the side of your face. His skin was scarred and calloused against yours, a physical manifestation of how different his lifestyle was from yours.

Books always made it seem like butterflies would be swarming in your stomach at moments like these. But you felt calm. This was fate, it was supposed to happen. And who were you to deny the universe’s pull and Cupid’s arrow?

Leon was a gentleman first and foremost. “Can I…?”

“Mhm.”

Your first kiss was witnessed by the moon.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

You kept in touch through letters. Leon was old fashioned, and very rarely did he pick up his cheap flip phone when you tried giving him a call. Something about his phone always being stored away, he hardly used the thing anyway. He already had the task of picking up the mail, so it wasn’t like your grandpa or grandma would get it.

You didn’t mind much. There was something endearing about sending letters, running to the mail like you were a dog fetching the weekly newspaper. It was hard to imagine his voice sometimes when reading his letters because he wrote all properly, it didn’t match his accent.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to send another letter. I accidentally cut my hand when fixing up a fence and it took a while to heal, it left a scar. I’m okay though, promise. Just don’t want you to think I forgot about you or anything like that. Your grandpa was real nice about it, he gave me some time off, he’s got a kind heart. And your grandma kept cooking up some soup…said it would help me heal quicker. Not sure if it’s true, but it left my stomach happy and that counts for something.

The entire time I was resting, I found myself thinking of you. Would you have patched my hand up if you were here? Kissed my pain away?

Every time I look at the moon, I wonder if you are too.”

You always traced over his handwriting with an unclicked pen before proceeding to leave a kiss mark on the corner of the page and putting it in your stored pile.

Summer became the highlight of your years. You actually packed cute clothes now, flowy sundresses and some matching undergarments you wouldn’t mind Leon seeing. Of course, you also bought some riding gear, wanting to partake in his hobbies too.

The instant you were back at the farm and the two of you were alone, Leon grabbed you by the hips and pressed you up against the outdoor wall of the house, smiling at you all coyly.

“Missed ya. Shoulda jus’ stayed here with me.”

“Thought you liked me for pursuing a higher education?” Your grin matched his. Maybe after you got your degree you’d join him more often.

“Mhm.” God, that intellect of yours was sexy. He could listen to you ramble about your ambitions for ages. “Wish that college of yers was nearby, though.”

“That makes two of us…I missed you too, by the way.” Your lips inched closer to his. “A lot.”

His cheeks turned roseate, his heart thumping as fast as the hooves of a bronco at a rodeo. “…Yeah?”

“Don’t sound so unsure! Need me to show you?”

“I’d appreciate that, y’know how I am.” Leon wasn’t the most self assured, having been worried you’d find some college guy to get with.

All it took was some more sweet talking and daring touches on your end before he hoisted one of your legs up with your permission, the fabric of your dress lifting and bunching around your hips, the plush of your ass pressed against the weathered down paint of the walls.

He let you set the pace, keeping you steady as you bucked your hips against him, your panties soaking from the friction of his rough denim jeans. Your mouths clashed messily out of pent up desperation.

It didn’t go farther than dry humping, though.

Leon made sure your first time with him was more planned out, not wanting it to be in some confined space or rushed. You rode him until dawn, your knees meeting the soft blanket he laid down against the grass with each roll of your hips.

“Ah ah ah. Slow, sweetheart, slow.” He pleaded in a throaty voice, you were killing him, milking him over and over.

“Fuck…okay.” You slowed your pace, your breaths mingling when you rested your forehead against his.

“That’s it. Like that.”

And after that, there were more spontaneous times.

You wanted to get dicked down on your mattress so that’s what Leon gave you, if only your bed wasn’t so fucking squeaky. He had to put pillows behind your headboard.

“Shh…gotta be quiet f’me.” His hand covered your mouth, muting the moans that almost spilled from your mouth.

Leon wouldn’t live to see another day if his boss found his sweet granddaughter’s ankles hugging his neck and her toes all curled.

You ran your nails against his scalp, turning his hair into a mess, taking advantage of the fact he didn’t have a hat indoors. He bit down on his lip harshly to prevent himself from groaning aloud. Yeah, he had to climb out your window after that.

You almost got caught once inside one of the rundown abandoned stalls that was in need of some fixing. You were sitting betweens Leon’s spread legs, his hand down your pants. His palm gently smacked your clit with every push of his fingers inside your cunt. Open-mouthed kisses grazed your neck, making you loll your head to the side.

If only your granddaddy hadn’t interrupted.

“Son, ya in here?” Some incoherent grumbles before he got to the point, thankfully giving you some time to smack Leon’s hand away, snickering at the expression on his face — like he was about to be put six feet under. “Need yer help with the pipe I was tellin’ ya about earlier.”

“‘m on it.” Leon called out after pecking your lips, but there was a crack in his voice that left you silently giggling as he got up and wiped his fingers on his pants. He seemed so embarrassed, sparing you an apologetic glance and then tipping his hat down to hide his flustered expression from his boss.

But who knows, your grandparents adored Leon. One day he’d muster up the courage to tell them he was sweet on you, or maybe they’d catch the two of you holding hands under the dinner table.

Either way, you were no mere summer fling, and he let that be known by adorning your finger with a shiny promise ring.

[adispit]

Mates (Sweet Thing Pt.2)

Hare! Original character x bunny! Male reader

Warnings: hints of possessiveness, your owner getting his poor eyes destroyed, cream pie, a bit of an exhibitionism kink, pwp, dirty talk

Note: if you’re confused about the anatomy, in the eyes of humans they’re animals but to each other they’re like hybrids (human with animal features), just don’t think too much about it lol and enjoy the story

The sun didn’t let you slumber peacefully after the night of merciless fucking. You could hear the faint sounds of water flowing nearby as you awoke blearily, feeling a little disoriented. “Ow!”A sharp stab of pain shot through your lower half, the ache a reminder of the shameless acts you had committed. A rush of shame left your face burning as you recalled what you had said in your haze of pleasure. Looking down, you noticed your lower half was clean, had Mr Hare cleaned you up?

Before you could ponder more about it, a loud grumble from your stomach interrupted your thoughts. “Hungry?” A low, magnetic voice sounded beside your ear. “Oh, Mr Hare! I…” Your throat felt dry, what could you say?! The embarrassment was too much… Mr Hare must have known from the way you avoided his gaze but he chose to ignore it, offering you an apple. Looking sheepish, he continued, “Listen, sorry about yesterday. I wasn’t really myself and I must have scared you a lot… I’ve just been really pent up and you smelled absolutely amazing.” His ears were red. Oh. Cute. Even Mr Hare had an adorable side to him. “I don’t mean to really impose on you bunny but after all that, I mean I have to know your name at least,” He smiled apologetically.

“It’s (name)!” You offered a toothy grin in return. “Thank you so much for cleaning me up and giving me this apple, I’m so sorry for intruding upon your territory as well…but I don’t regret it though! You’re so nice and handsome too..I mean..”You blabbered out a thanks but it seemed you said too much, you didn’t mean to! He was really good-looking!! You really didn’t dare to look at his face now, wishing you would vanish from the face of this earth. “Well, (name), the pleasure is mine as your mate. I am glad you found me satisfactory.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a gentle chuckle.

Mates?! Yours eyes widened as you tried to grasp the revelation, your initial astonishment at what he said melting into sheer happiness. Forgetting about the ache in your lower half, you bounced next to him in a fit of excitement, “Really? You mean it? You mean it?” The questions rushed out as you couldn’t stop yourself from grinning uncontrollably. Looking at your delighted expression, Mr Hare muttered an agreement, his eyes crinkling. “Well, Mister Hare, since we’re mates now, I have to tell my owner!” Your tail puffed out in eagerly as you grabbed his hands and stared at him with stars in your eyes.

It didn’t take much convincing as it seemed Mr Hare was rather smitten with you and didn’t mind for the latter part, if your owner were to reject you both, he would just whisk you away anyways even if you didn’t want to. As you bounded in the direction of your home from the meadow with Mr Hare in tow, it seemed as if the odds were in your favour, you even remembered the way back! As you arrived at the familiar sight of your house, you could see the frantic and panicked look of your owner through the window, a sense of guilt weighed down on your heart for worrying him because of your greed. Glancing at your worried face, Mr Hare offered some words of comfort, “(Name), it’s alright, I’m sure your owner would understand.” He was right! You could do this! Leaping through the window, you landed at your owners’s feet with Mr Hare behind you.

“(Name)!? Wait, I’ll talk to you later, this rascal just came back after a day of disappearing!!” Your owner spoke in a rapid fire manner at the person in the phone before hanging up. Disappointment apparent in his displeased expression, he scooped you up. “(Name)! Where have you been? I’ve been worried to death and you just disappear on me?? Where did your shorts go? And- Wait. Did you bring a girl home.” Before your owner could finish giving you a rough talking to, he noticed Mr Hare on the ground, who was clearly disgruntled by the fact that your owner had just snatched you up. “(Name), god damn it! I didn’t spay you because you were the only bunny I had at home but you bring home some random female hare?!?” Clearly perturbed, your owner bemoaned at you.

It seemed your owner was too exasperated to even listen to you…he had even assumed Mr Hare was a female! Mr Hare shot you a look that expressed his irritation. Desperate to explain yourself, you jumped from your owner’s embrace beside Mr Hare and he immediately mounted you, showing his dominance. “God what if she’s pregnant- (Name), what are you doing?! Oh- l.”Left speechless, your owner immediately understood. “Okay, so you were the one who got pounded?? My bunny got mounted by some random hare??? I give up…this is the price I get for pampering you so much (name)…let’s at least get this guy checked to see if he has an owner…” Your owner was so exasperated with the situation that he finally threw up my hands and gave up, leaving to call the animal shelter.

As your owner conceded defeat, you knew despite his sharp words, he had accepted that Mr Hare was now part of your family. Excitement coursed through you at the thought of having Mr Hare around and it seemed like he shared the same idea as well! Just when you were about to rave about the future you had already imagined with Mr Hare and your owner together as one big family, he interrupted you. “Bunny, I don’t really like how your owner just grabbed you away like that…” He wore a scowl of displeasure, his grip on you tightening as if to ward off any potential threat. Mr Hare being all possessive over you just because your owner touched you should have put you off but it didn’t, instead you felt yourself hardening shamefully, your hole twitching.

He noticed, wearing a smug smirk on his face as if he clearly relishing his victory over the competition. “W-wait, Mr Hare… my owner is still here…” However, your words were the opposite of your actions as you teasingly rubbed your ass against his already rock hard dick. “Bunny…you’re really tempting me…” He grunted as he pulled you close, your thighs flush against his cock. A faint blush crept up your neck and cheeks as a low pitched squeak left you. The blunt head of his dick repeatedly rubbing against your rim of muscle, precum wetting your awaiting hole. Mr Hare cooed at you patronisingly before he thrusted into your heat, the immediate stretch and burn of his impossibly huge cock filling you.

Almost going slack from the penetration, your body trembled from the stimulation as the excitement from your owner catching you both made you shamelessly clench around his cock repeatedly. “You like your owner just behind the door, bunny? Catching me pumping my seed into his precious pet, huh?” Mr Hare snarled as his hands teased your chest, hands rolling your taut nipples. “Please.” You cried out, unsure of what you even wanted as your vision grew hazy. It felt impossibly good. “God. Your hole is so tight, my dick’s gonna break.” He laughed as his hips snapped against yours at a brutal speed. “Unh- ah!” You moaned, tongue now lolling out and eyes rolling back as the pleasure built up and left you reeling in its wake.

The sensation of his cock spearing you open again and again felt so good. The obscene squelch of your hole after every slap of his balls against your skin echoed in the room. It was too much. The tension in your body building up and snapping as you orgasmed. As wave after wave of pleasure crashed into you, your walls pulsed around Mr Hare’s cock rapidly, milking him of what he was worth. Your cock painted your tummy in white as you slurred incoherently, Mr Hare’s grip on you bruisingly tight as his pace stuttered. “Fuck.” Mr Hare moaned. It was not long before hot spurts of cum splashed your insides with his semen. Pulling out his soft cock, a vulgar squelch sounded, followed by his cum dripping out of your swollen hole.

Too exhausted to even feel ashamed about what you did, you lay against Mr Hare as the afterglow left you dazed. Gently cradling in his arms, he kissed your nape in satisfaction. Unfortunately, your sweet moment was interrupted by your owner coming in. “Alright, I’ve confirmed he doesn’t have an owner so we’ll just adopt him and get him vaccinated for some shots… (Name)?! Oh god.”

At least you were both now mates at least…but your owner’s eyes would need some time to recover…

note: I rly need to give this guy a name lol I can’t keep calling him Mr Hare in smut scenes 😭💀 I didn’t beta this so there might be some spelling errors

Reblogs are appreciated! 🙏

[fastandcarlos]

Victim Of A Bad Day : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: after what can only be described as a nightmare of a day, oscar ends up coming home only to take it all out on you

Your smile was soft as Oscar walked through the apartment, putting your phone down and rising to your feet. You went over to him, holding your arms out, but Oscar’s head shook back at you. 

“Please, no,” he told you, walking straight past you through the living room and into the kitchen. 

You turned around as you watched Oscar walk away, debating what to do next. You slowly followed behind as you watched him grab a glass from out of the cupboard and fill it with water. Every movement was done with a sigh, thudding around the place like a toddler running around. 

“I’m guessing your day could’ve been better?” You asked, trying to bring a smile to his face. 

You stood and waited for Oscar to acknowledge you, but instead he carried on walking around. His head was down as he moved, his eyes not even looking across in your direction, as if you weren’t there. 

“Oscar, you know I’m here for you,” you told him, beginning to get concerned with his behaviour. It was unlike Oscar to be so quiet, to close off from you and deal with everything all by himself. 

A shrug came from Oscar as he walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, throwing himself down on the sofa. He grabbed his phone, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table, almost groaning when he noticed that you had followed right behind him. 

“So, we’ll just spend our evening in silence, shall we?” You asked, perching on the end of the sofa. 

“Suits me,” Oscar bluntly responded, still staring down at his phone, ignoring the sigh that came from across the room from you. 

Your head shook in disbelief at how cold Oscar was, never had you seen this side of him before. “I don’t know what’s happened today Oscar, but you could try and at least treat me with even the smallest bit of dignity tonight.” 

“Just leave me alone,” Oscar requested, throwing his arms up into the air. “Just because I’ve not come home and thrown my arms around you and talked your ear off doesn’t mean I need constant questions. Just take the hint and give me a bit of space.” 

Your body tensed up at how loud Oscar’s voice was, not quite sure how to react. “You’re not you Oscar, what would you like me to do? Pretend that everything is fine? I didn’t realise that caring about you was such a crime, next time I won’t bother worrying about you.” 

“I don’t need caring for, I haven’t asked you too,” Oscar replied. 

Your eyes widened in surprise at what Oscar had to say, stunned by how blunt he was. Perhaps you had been a little overbearing, but all you were guilty of was worrying about him.  

“That’s fine then,” you told Oscar, picking up your phone and sitting opposite him. You sat back, stretching out across the sofa, deciding to switch off to the fact that Oscar was even in the room. 

His eyes watched you though, shaking his head as you mimicked him. “I don’t ever remember asking for someone to worry about me, you know I’ve survived long enough all by myself.” 

Your heart ached as Oscar spoke, the hurt clear on your face as your eyes flickered across to Oscar. As he met your eyes, Oscar’s frustration disappeared, replaced by concern that he was the reason for your disappointment.  

“I don’t even know what to say,” you shrugged, shaking your head disapprovingly, full of despair. Rising to your feet, Oscar kept an eye on you as you left the room and went into your bedroom. 

Time apart was exactly what the two of you needed as you let the events sink in. You were both full of anger and upset, unable to believe that the two of you could ever have such an argument. It was unlike any other disagreement that you’d had with Oscar, leaving you rather shellshocked as you laid down on your bed. 

You found yourself staring up at the ceiling as you replayed the argument again and again in your head. A shiver ran down your spine each time you heard Oscar’s voice in your head, the resentment and annoyance so clear, somehow you being the reason for it too. 

After a while, you could hear Oscar moving through the apartment, knowing exactly where he was heading. You picked up your phone to make yourself look busy as the bedroom door opened, with Oscar quietly walking in, sitting on the end of the bed. 

You didn’t respond as Oscar turned to face you, laying himself down beside you. His hand rested against your stomach as he tried to get your attention, knowing that he had plenty of making up to do. 

“I’m sorry,” Oscar murmured, “the way I behaved then was completely unreasonable and out of order.” 

You placed your phone down, brows knitting together as you glanced across at Oscar. His heart sunk as he saw how upset you still were, guilt eating away at him knowing it was all his fault. 

“I don’t want to hear it.” 

“Please,” Oscar sighed, expecting you to dismiss him. “I shouldn’t have said what I said, I know that you care so much, and that’s one of my favourite things about you. Having you take care of me is the best feeling in the world, I don’t know what I’d do without you around to support me.” 

As your body turned slightly to face Oscar, you could see a faint smile on his face. Knowing that you were at least listening to him was a start for Oscar, hardly expecting you to fall into his arms and forgive him as quick as a flash, but at least it was a sign. 

“I don’t care how bad your day is Oscar; I don’t expect to be spoken to like that. I was only caring, and maybe I was a little too much, but if you’d have just told me that you needed space then I would’ve known what you needed from me, rather than just being shouted at.” 

“I was stupid,” Oscar told you, “there’s no explanation for it, bad day or not.” 

You could see the effects of the day in Oscar’s eyes, there was barely any colour there, letting you know just how bad of a day he must’ve had. 

“Everyone has good days and bad days,” you whispered, “including me, but yours are not my fault. I don’t want you to shut me out Oscar, I want to be able to help you, even if there’s very little I can do, at least it’s something.” 

His head nodded, pressing a kiss against the top of your shoulder. You were spot on, you were the last person to blame for how Oscar’s day went, you just so happened to be in the wrong place in the wrong time. 

“I’m always here for you,” you reminded Oscar, “it doesn’t matter what’s happened, you know I’m always going to be with you, right?” 

He continued nodding as you spoke. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I don’t appreciate you being with me today, because I do appreciate it, more than anything.” 

“Will you remind yourself of that next time you come home after a bad day?” 

“I promise that I’ll never forget it.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[lovefield-s]

I always forget about the cold water trick.

[rottenfyre]

Who do you think would cry/throw up/MURDER first if Pervert!Spider Reader tried rizzing up Thalia or Rhas Al Ghul?

1. Damian: Murder Mode Activated

Damian would 100% be the first to lose it. Seeing you even remotely flirt with his mother or grandfather would flip his already short fuse.

If it’s Talia, he’d go full-on angry bird mode, glaring daggers at you while sputtering, “YOU INSOLENT WOMAN! HAVE YOU NO SHAME?!” before likely drawing his katana.

If it’s Ra’s, he’d genuinely threaten you, saying something like, “You’ve gone too far. I’ll end this madness myself,” while trying to intimidate you with his deadliest glare (which you’d probably find adorable).

No amount of kisses or teasing would calm him down immediately. He’d probably need Jason to hold him back.

2. Jason: Punches a Wall (and Maybe You)

Jason would go straight into rage and denial mode, particularly if you started sweet-talking Ra’s. You jokingly tell Ra's, "You've got a whole 'silver fox with a kingdom' vibe going on. Very attractive," and Jason snaps.

"Oh, hell no. This wrinkly bastard doesn't get to breathe the same air as you!"

He'd unload an entire clip at Ra's while dragging you behind him protectively.

“You’re flirting with the Demon’s Head?! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!”

If it’s Talia, he’d be equally furious but also extra petty. “Oh, so you’re into hot assassins now? Great. Guess I’m not enough for you,” he’d grumble while trying not to visibly sulk.

Despite his anger, there’s a 50% chance Jason might step in to challenge Ra’s directly, because he refuses to be shown up.

3. Dick: Throws Up in the Corner

Dick would probably cry and throw up first, especially if you flirted with Talia.

He’d be heartbroken, looking at you with those big, sad puppy-dog eyes. “Why would you do this? I thought we had something special,” he’d say dramatically, clutching his chest like he’s in a soap opera.

If it’s Ra’s, he’d look physically ill. “You’re flirting with a literal centuries-old warlord?! What’s wrong with you?” he’d exclaim, pacing in disbelief while the others try to calm him down.

4. Tim: Overthinks Himself into Oblivion

Tim wouldn’t react physically but would go into full mental meltdown mode. Poor boy is so emotionally fragile when it comes to you. Seeing you openly flirt with either Talia or Ra's would break him completely.

He’d probably mutter something like, “Wait, are you doing this as a joke? Or do you actually like them? Is this part of some elaborate plan I missed?” while spiraling into paranoia.

You casually compliment Ra's on his tailored robes, and Tim, who's watching from the Batcomputer, starts hyperventilating. "She... she doesn't mean it. Right? She's just messing around. RIGHT?!" Then he bolts to the nearest bathroom. If it was Talia? He'd straight-up faint from the stress.

Tim would definitely research ways to counteract the Lazarus Pit just in case you’re actually serious.

He’d also probably cry a little, but only in private.

5. Bruce: Quietly Contemplates Murder

Bruce wouldn’t react immediately. Instead, he’d sit there in silence, arms crossed, radiating pure disappointment.

“Ra’s Al Ghul? Really?” he’d say in that deep, gravelly voice, making you laugh even harder.

If it’s Talia, he’d rub his temples and mutter, “I’ve dealt with a lot from you, but this… this is a new low.”

He wouldn’t say anything outright, but the tension in the Batcave afterward would be suffocating.

The Aftermath:

Damian would sulk for days and try to “punish” you during training by going extra hard.

Jason would get over it by pretending it never happened, but he’d glare at Ra’s every chance he got.

Dick would be clingier than ever, needing constant reassurance that he’s still your favorite.

Tim would probably never trust you around the League of Assassins again.

Bruce? He’d just pray to whatever deity he believes in for patience.

[merakiui]

there is a knock at your door.

yandere!jade leech x (gender neutral) reader x yandere!floyd leech cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, stalking, fear/paranoia, kidnapping note - will you open it? // a birthday gift for the lovely and amazing @fish-brain-go-brrrr!!!!!!! may your special day be filled with eels, tako, and boundless happiness. (´▽`ʃƪ)♡ thank you for being a wonderful friend!! have the best birthday and enjoy this little gift hehe!!!! 🎉

Knock, knock. 

The door opens to reveal your friend since forever: Azul Ashengrotto.

And, more importantly, his Alaskan Malamute, who bounds over in quick clicks to greet you. You laugh as she all but pushes past Azul’s legs in an effort to reach your outstretched arms.

“Well, excuse you!” Azul laughs. She slobbers all over your face in her form of affectionate greeting before pulling away to sniff curiously at your suitcase. “Someone’s excited to see you.”

“I haven’t even gotten through the door,” you remark in between giggles.

“Okay, Pepper, that’s enough.” Azul clicks his tongue and she parts from you (not before delivering one final lick to your cheek. He smiles and pats her affectionately. “Good girl.”

Despite Pepper’s impressive size, she’s nothing but a softie. A gentle giant, some would describe her. You remember when she was just a puppy, small enough to be cradled in Azul’s arms like a human baby. How she’s grown!

“If you’d come this way, you can put your stuff down.” Azul shuffles aside to allow you to step fully into the foyer of his smartly-furnished home. “I’m sure you’re already familiar with everything, but it won’t hurt to reiterate.”

“Please do. It’s been a while since I’ve been at your place. Doesn’t seem like anything’s changed, though.”

He hums and shuts the door behind you. It locks smoothly. You trail after Azul, wheeling your suitcase down the hall and into the sitting room. Pepper bounds after the both of you and makes herself comfortable on a fluffy dog bed.

“Pepper’s feeding schedule hasn’t changed. Although I did switch to a different brand of dry food. This one is much better. Vet’s orders and all that. And every month I have a chef come in to prepare her a special, nutritionally balanced meal with only the freshest ingredients.”

“Wow! Isn’t she spoiled?” you tease in an exaggerated baby voice.

“I take care of my things,” he replies simply, shrugging your playful remark off, “and Pepper deserves only the finest.”

“I’m sure she appreciates it.”

As if having realized she’s the subject of conversation, Pepper barks.

Azul leads you through the house into the kitchen. It looks different from the last time you saw it and you realize he must have had it redone. Every appliance is brand-new, winking back at you when you peek into each gleaming surface.

Sleek, you think, admiring the wall oven. 

“Pepper gets one cup of dry food twice every day. Once in the morning and once at night. On Fridays, I give her a can of wet food as a treat. She can have that whenever you think is best. I usually do it around late morning, early afternoon.”

“Dry food twice each day. Wet food Friday. Got it.”

He opens a small door to a cupboard packed neatly with cans and containers. “This is where I keep her food. This bigger door is for human food. The wonderful pantry.” He knocks on it playfully.

Knock, knock.

You attempt a poor joke. “So it’s not just all dog food?”

“I have to feed myself,” he says, dramatically aghast. “I’m not a dog.”

“You sure about that?”

Azul barks out a chuckle. His mouth quirks up in an amused half-grin. “I’m sorry to disappoint. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve stocked this one full of everything indicated in the preferences you sent me.”

“So that’s why you asked me for that list! I just thought you wanted food recs.”

“That, too. You have unique tastes.”

“Microwave and canned meals are always there for me in my darkest hours.”

He hums. “Well, I’ve made sure to get each of your human favorites, so you needn’t feen for those too much.”

There’s a razored edge to his remark that makes you shrivel inside. As if your appetite is cheap in some way, more like a dog’s than a person’s.

But this is his house and it’s his money. You wouldn’t put it past him to factor in the pay cut for unnecessary sass. So you simply bare your teeth in a smile and take the punch, whether it was intended for you or not. Sometimes you forget he’s supposed to be your friend. 

“You’re welcome to use the kitchen. The whole house is your oyster, really,” he continues, guiding you towards the back door. It’s then when you notice the little black camera positioned in the corner of the room, its red eye peering soundlessly back at you. You wonder if that’s a new addition—the dog cameras. You can’t remember if they were there the last summer you were here. “Pepper has a tendency to stay out longer than she needs to after she’s done her business. She’ll come to the door once she’s had her fill, so there’s no need to fret. Although I’m sure she’ll listen to you. She’s quite obvious in her favoritism…”

You laugh but not because it’s funny. Because it’ll hopefully land you within his good graces, which is patently absurd if he’s meant to be your friend. You’re not even sure you can call these favors friendship when they’re transactional. If anything, you’re friendlier with Pepper than you are with Azul.

Am I really closer with a dog than a human? you think as he opens the door for you to view the fenced-in yard. You watch Azul gesture, his lips moving with his words. Actually, maybe Azul’s the dog.

Doubtful, but that doesn’t make the imagery any less comedic.

“I’ll be back next Monday. If you need anything or have any questions, you have my number. Oh, but just in case I’ve written the schedule for you and pasted it on the fridge should you forget.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s nothing I haven’t done before.”

At that, he smiles sincerely. “Thank you. I really do appreciate this, considering everything was such short notice.”

“Nah, don’t worry. We’re friends. Plus, Pepper loves me.”

He chuckles. “I suppose that’s more than enough of a bonus. Speaking of which, how much would you like to be paid?”

“However much you’d like to give me,” you blurt and immediately regret it.

“I researched the average pay for dog-sitters, but there were just so many conflicting opinions and variables. So what do you think would be best? Please don’t sell yourself short on account of my asking. I’m always willing to give you more for your services.”

Taking a pause, you contemplate his words. If you factor in the grocery trip he made on your behalf and his letting you stay for the week alongside the tasks you’ll be completing for Pepper…

You open your mouth to suggest four-hundred madol, but he beats you to it—and with a completely different amount.

“Does three-hundred suffice?”

“Sure. No, yes. Yeah, that works.” You smile, but you aren’t very pleased.

“Wonderful! If you ever find yourself thinking you might need more, please do tell me. I want to make sure you’re paid accordingly. Good work deserves equally good acknowledgement, wouldn’t you agree?”

You nod. If you know anything about Azul, it’s that he’s always willing to work with you when it comes to finances. He’s a businessman, so of course he’d know how to flawlessly navigate these types of situations. And having built himself a career and life on hard work, he has the confidence to throw numbers around and see which one sticks.

Briefly, as you follow him to the front door, you try to imagine yourself in his shoes—a businessperson who dresses smart every day, who never has to worry about money, who doesn’t have to be silently amazed by shiny appliances and refurbished kitchens.

And then you wonder if Azul is in the market for a spouse, but that idea is swiftly stamped out when you realize how silly it sounds.

He props his suitcase against the wall and bends down to welcome Pepper, who can easily match his height, into his arms. She licks at his face, sniffing the cologne spritzed on his suit, and he doesn’t seem to fuss over the hair.

“I’ll see you in a week. Be good to (Name) while I’m gone.”

Upon hearing your name, she whips her head up to look at you.

“She’s always good no matter what,” you vouch, reaching to scratch behind her ears. Her tail wags wildly. “The best girl.”

“I’m glad.” Azul pulls away. He plucks a lint roller from the side pouch in his backpack and casually brushes down his front. “I trust you’ll be fine in my absence? Do feel free to sleep wherever—whether on the sofa or in the guest bedroom upstairs. The sheets were just washed and the room is clean. Mine is as well, but I suppose it may be awkward to offer it.” He coughs into his fist. “Regardless, whichever space you find most comfortable, consider it yours for the duration of your stay.”

“Thank you for everything, Azul.” You hold the door for him as he drags his suitcase over the threshold, his backpack hanging from one shoulder. “Have a safe flight.”

Pepper joins you at the door to watch. You wave to him while he lifts his belongings into the trunk of his car, and then within mere minutes he’s pulling away and driving out of sight.

“And that’s that,” you announce, ducking back inside with Pepper. You shut the door and lock it. Surveying the sitting room, your hands situated on your hips, you wonder what you should do now. She peers up at you, just as expectant. 

The first thing you decide to do is peruse the pantry and the fridge. All of your favorites are arranged within. It’s actually too much, you realize, now unable to settle on a single option for dinner.

So instead you swipe the money Azul’s left for you on the counter—in case of emergencies, the note reads—and decide that this predicament is dire enough for pizza.

Knock, knock.

You pop up from the sofa and trot over to open the front door. Pepper gets there before you, barking loudly at the person on the other side. Gently, you shush her and peek out through the small crack to greet the driver. They smile and hand over your food. Rushing through the process, you give them the amount owed.

The door shuts and locks with a click.

“You’re babysitting for the same rich guy? You’d think he’d give you a raise or something since you do it so often,” Ace mutters into the phone.

“Yeah, well, it’s only a week.”

“Still a week’s worth of work. Why do you even feel bad? Ask for more. He said he’d give it to you, didn’t he?”

“I dunno… I mean, we already agreed on an amount and I don’t wanna seem like a greedy asshole—”

“(Name), he’s rich. They’re all greedy assholes. If he has the money to spoil his dog with monthly fancy feasts,” he says, putting on a posh accent, “then he has the money to pay you what you deserve. If you want, I could always say something. J-Just because you’re too chicken and all, I mean! Sometimes you need superstar Ace to step in. No need to thank me. I know I’m great.”

Propping your feet on the armrest at the end of the loveseat, you roll your eyes at the ceiling. “Whatever would I do without you?”

“Case in point! So you should totally ask him for more. Wring him out like a money rag.”

“We’ll see… He did buy a bunch of food for me and he’s letting me stay. He even left money for emergencies.”

“You used it, right?”

“Of course I did! I’m not stupid.”

Ace laughs. “So you’re alone then?”

“The dog’s here, too. You wanna say hi?” You tap your phone. “Okay, you’re on speaker. Pepper, you wanna meet my friend?”

“What’s up, Pepper!”

She lifts her head from where she’s resting on her cushion, her ears raised curiously. Her only response is a soft huff.

“She says hi.”

“You sure you’re not putting words in her mouth?”

“Surprised you couldn’t understand her, you dog.”

“Hey!”

Grinning, you pick at a loose string on your sweater. Azul’s house is always so cold. “But, yes, it’s just the dog and me. Why?”

Ace is quiet for an uncharacteristic beat. Eventually, he clears his throat. “Dunno. Just figured you might want some company. I could come over.”

You understand the implication coyly woven into his words. “I’d say yeah—”

“Really?!”

“But he’s got cameras. For the dog, I think.”

“So just cover them up?”

“Wow, great suggestion. How long did it take you to think of that one, brainiac?”

“I’m just saying… He’s away on a business thing, right? How much time is he gonna have to watch the cameras?”

“If he’s neurotic enough, he’ll find time.”

“He shouldn’t be if he trusts you to look after the house.”

“He also trusts how easy it’ll be to connect the dots if something goes missing from his house.”

“It’s not criminal to have a guest over! Geez. You make it sound so illegal…”

“Tough luck. If you really wanna hang out, we can just get lunch next time I’m—”

Knock, knock.

You sit up slightly on the sofa, brows furrowed. Is someone at the door? At this hour? You’re certain Azul isn’t expecting anyone, and the mail isn’t due to come until tomorrow morning. You glance at Pepper. Her eyes are closed, but her ears are raised, listening.

“Hey, Ace?”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“Hold that thought. I think someone’s at the door.”

You manage to catch the very end of Ace’s don’t-get-murdered warning just before you set your phone down. Azul’s door has a panel of frosted glass, so even if you wanted to discern the person’s features on the other end you’d have to open it for confirmation. All you can go off of are shadows.

Unlocking the door, you pull it open and poke your head outside. The crisp air hits you like a slap.

No one’s there.

You check around in case someone dropped something off, but there’s nothing in sight. Nothing on the stoop. No mail to collect.

Did someone have the wrong house? you think, trying to picture the scenario in your mind. Or maybe some dumb kids are pranking me. 

Now irritated, you shut the door in a huff.

It’s summer. Don’t they have anything better to do?

Maybe it’s precisely because it’s summer that they don’t.

You choose to brush this annoyance aside in favor of picking up your phone to return to the conversation.

“Sorry about that. I’m back.”

“Everything good?”

“Yeah. No, yeah. All good here. Just some kids thinking they’re funny.”

“Yeaaah, no surprises there.”

“You’d think they’d stay away. Azul’s probably got enough money to sue them for disturbing the peace or some other stuffy nonsense and win.”

“They’re kids. They’re not gonna know any better.”

“Says the public menace.”

“I’m not that bad! Cut me some slack. I’ll have you know, I’ve matured significantly since my school days and I am very much a changed man.”

“Yeah, oookay.”

“I’m serious!”

“Sure, Mr. Mature. Anyway, it’s late. I should let Pepper out and get to bed.”

“You sure you don’t want me to sing you to sleep?” he teases.

“I actually value my sense of hearing, so no. Thanks, though.”

Before he can retort, you bid him sweet dreams and hang up. Gazing at the camera positioned in the corner, you rise to your feet.

The cameras are definitely new.

“Pepper, sweetheart, you wanna go outside?”

She seems to have understood that last part, for she scrambles out of her bed and pads over to the back door with a swaying tail. You open the door for her, and she rushes past you in a blur of fur.

Good. She’ll get one last run and bathroom break in before bed and hopefully we’ll be fine until morning.

Like a wine stain on a white shirt, your eyes are drawn to the camera once more. You can understand having cameras outside the property, but inside the house feels…unusual. But then you’ve never had a dog of your own and you’ve always lived in apartments on the highest floor, so maybe this is what most dog owners do when they need to monitor an overactive animal.

Maybe they’re those cameras that you can speak through! If that’s the case, then I can totally see him talking to Pepper or scolding her if she’s up to no good. Okay, that makes a little more sense now.

Another reason hits you, and you feel foolish for not realizing it first: For safety and security’s sake, too. Of course.

Your phone buzzes then and you pull it from your pocket to read the message. Ace has sent you something stupid on Magicam, no doubt. You’re about to open it and confirm when—

Knock, knock.

An admonishment on the tip of your tongue, you storm through the hall towards the front door. You throw it open this time, and like before you find empty space.

“Not funny,” you seethe, stepping out into the cold night to peer through the neat hedges and flower bushes. Surely those kids are hiding somewhere… “It’s late. Go home already!”

You don’t receive a reply. For a moment, you wait in anticipation. Wherever they’re hiding, they’ll have to get up and retreat eventually. It’s oddly quiet. You strain to listen for any giggles or whispers.

Nothing but suffocating silence.

And then Pepper barks, and you nearly jump out of your skin. You shut the door slowly, watching the outside slim down until eventually all you see is your warped reflection in the frosted glass.

Weird…

Again, Pepper barks.

“I’m coming! Wait just a moment, Pepper!”

You lock the door and scurry to let her in. 

Come tomorrow, those kids won’t be able to hide in the daylight, you tell yourself as you brush your teeth. And when I catch them, I’ll make sure to give them a talk on why it’s not nice to bother other people, especially at night when it’s dark out. It’s just unsafe for kids to be out late anyway!

When you settle into bed, you realize the house is perfectly still and silent. Pepper is snoozing comfortably on Azul’s bed. You never realized it, but Azul’s house seems bigger at night. More rooms. More space. Lots of shadows. A creak every now and then as everything settles. It’s in between sleep that you begin to wonder if you locked the door.

It’s fine. I’ve got Pepper to keep me safe.

Comforted with this knowledge, you fall asleep.

Knock, knock.

There is a knock at your door.

You jerk awake and, rather clumsily, feel around in the bed for your phone. It flashes the time back at you. The rest of the world comes trickling in through dull, still-sleepy senses. You finally register Pepper’s bark, which is beginning to sound more like an alarm with how relentless it is.

“Shit. It’s already afternoon?” And then you sit up. “Shit! It’s already afternoon!”

You rush down the stairs, apologizing profusely to Pepper with each step. She’s waiting for you at the very bottom, pacing in circles and barking at you.

“I know, I know! I’m sorry. I completely slept in. You must have to go really bad.”

She races you to the door and you yank it open in your haste, heaving a relieved breath when she bursts outside. You lean against the doorframe for support and bask in the sunshine that spills in.

The weather’s beautiful today. I can’t believe they were saying it might rain.

While Pepper runs laps outside, you busy yourself with filling Pepper’s bowls with the recommended amount of dry food and then fresh water. Her shadow appears against the door a few minutes later and so you let her in.

“Just in time,” you praise, watching as she trots eagerly over to her bowl.

With that out of the way, you begin preparing a very late breakfast for yourself. You can’t remember when the dishes from before were cleaned. Did you do them last night before bed?

“Doesn’t really matter,” you murmur, slicing fruit for a salad. “One less thing I have to do. Thank you, (Name) from the past.”

You skim through the notes Azul’s pasted to the bulletin board. Instructions for Pepper’s feeding schedule, reminders, times and dates. But then there are also things he’s left for himself. A calendar with important events marked. Various notes for miscellaneous things: Bring suit in for cleaning. Meet with dietician at the end of the month. Celebrate colleague’s birthday. These tiny slivers of his life remind you that Azul is a busy person like you. When you look at the stars he’s doodled around dates of particular importance, you feel yourself smiling. He’s not such an intimidating figure when you look at him through his calendar.

A text from Ace coaxes you out of your thoughts: u still on for tonight?

Tonight? But then you remember. Oh, fuck! Deuce’s birthday! I forgot we planned the surprise for today.

hell yeah!!! is your enthusiastic reply.

Later, while you’re getting ready for the evening, you think you hear someone knocking. But the running water drowns out all sounds from downstairs. If Pepper isn’t barking, it’s likely nothing.

You leave the house somewhat frazzled, hoping to shake off the strange suspicion that something isn’t right.

The biggest surprise, aside from jumping out to shock Deuce when he walked into the restaurant on account of thinking it a date—yes, you and Ace catfished him for this very cruel, irreverent birthday joke—is perhaps the text you receive from Azul.

Is it raining? Did Pepper track mud in the house?

You read it three more times and then you peek outside the window. It’s been raining ever since you arrived. So much for perfect weather… But Pepper couldn’t have gotten into any mud because the ground was dry earlier today.

No?? you write back, confusion bubbling in your chest. I haven’t sent her out since this morning when it was sunny. It’s raining now, but she hasn’t been out at all.

Horrified, you begin to wonder if you somehow spilled something during breakfast. Or did Pepper have an accident in the house? Did she get into something? A million questions headline your thoughts, overwhelming in their intensity. Thankfully, it’s Ace and Deuce who bring you back to the present.

“Ace told me you’re doing that house-sitting gig for that guy again.”

“Oh, yeah! I am. Dog-sitting, too.” You stuff your phone away.

Best not to think about it.

“Didja catch those kids?”

Deuce looks between you and Ace, a brow raised. “What kids?”

“You totally missed it! I guess some kids were knocking on (Name)’s door all night long.”

“They’re still doing it. I think…”

“No way!”

“Sooner or later, it becomes less annoying and more like harassment.” Deuce cringes. “And you haven’t caught them yet?”

“No. Or… Well, I thought I heard some knocking this morning. But I was still asleep and the dog was barking.”

“This guy has cameras, doesn’t he?” Ace looks to you for confirmation.

“Yeah, but it’s not like I have access to them.”

“Maybe that’ll drive whoever’s bothering you away. If they see the cameras, they’ll realize they’re being recorded and hopefully leave you alone.”

“Hopefully.”

“I offered to come over.”

“It’s not that serious.”

Ace and Deuce share a look of doubt.

“Really! It’s not, guys. All they’re doing is knocking on the door. Irritating as hell? Yes. But it’s all harmless. They’re outside. I’m inside. Plus, I’ve got Azul’s dog. She’s huge.”

“Just…keep yourself safe. Call one of us if you need to. We’ll come over,” Deuce says, poking around at the food on his plate.

“I will. Thank you. But let’s not worry about any of that. It’s your birthday! It’s supposed to be all about you.”

Somehow the unsettling atmosphere ebbs away, replaced with the joyous delusions of short-lived celebration.

You return to Azul’s house to find muddy pawprints on the floor. It takes you thirty minutes to scrub the floors clean, and for the entire time you’re racking your brain trying to understand how this happened. Was there mud in the backyard that you just weren’t aware of? Or did Pepper truly go outside when it was raining? Did you leave the door unlocked?

Surely Azul must have seen what happened on the cameras.

Something isn’t adding up. You spend your entire shower constructing the scene and its many possibilities, but none of them make a lick of sense.

It’s just you and Pepper, right?

As you toss and turn in bed, struggling to relax under a duvet that feels too itchy and hot, you think you hear someone knocking on the door.

Or maybe it’s the window. Maybe it’s right below you, tapping at the ceiling, pacing around in the kitchen, reaching to pet Pepper.

Maybe you’re just dreaming.

Azul calls you on the seventh day to check in. You consider telling him about the knocking, the dishes, that rainy day when Pepper tracked in mud, but you can’t seem to form the words without sounding utterly insane. So you smile and lie.

“No issues here. Pepper’s been wonderful.”

Azul hums, pleased. “Aah, I miss her something fierce. Oh, can you tell her I said that?”

You repeat his words to Pepper. “I dunno… I think she’s starting to like me more than you.”

“Well, isn’t that a problem? How else will she get her fix of you once you’re gone?”

“I’ll be back next time you need me.” And then you hesitate. “You…will need me again, right?”

“Of course. I always need you, (Name).”

There’s an awkward pause on his end. He clears his throat, but you don’t add anything to break the tension.

“Um, right. Yeah… Enjoy the rest of your business trip. I hope all is well with…that.”

“It is, yes. Thank you.”

“Then I won’t keep you.”

You end the call before he can say anything else. Pepper, who had been resting beside you on the sofa, tilts her head at you.

“Don’t tell him I said this,” you whisper, “but your owner is really bad at words sometimes.”

She leans in and licks your cheek.

Someone knocks on the door and lies in wait. You watch with bated breath, repeating the same phrase over and over: “Don’t open the door. Don’t open the door. Don’t open the door.”

Knock, knock.

She reaches for the knob.

“No… Come on. Don’t do it. It’s so clearly a trap!” You almost don’t want to watch. You know she’s as good as dead as soon as she opens the door, for the killer will descend and drag her back inside her own house.

Knock, knock.

She’s already opened the door. As expected, the killer pounces like the Grim Reaper and she shrieks like a banshee.

Knock, knock.

Knock, knock.

Knock, knock, knock.

Remote in hand, you lower the volume and focus on the silence that creeps in shortly after. You wait for a creak or another knock—a disturbance of some sort.

Slowly, you turn to glance at the door and then at the windows nearby with the curtains drawn. As quietly as you can manage, you set the remote down and slither off of the sofa. Pepper doesn’t seem bothered by the sounds, but you can tell she’s listening, her body tense.

No one’s out there. It’s nothing. 

You peel the curtains back ever so slightly and peek out at the darkness. There’s no one on the stoop. No one at the window. No one.

So then where was the knocking coming from? Was it really just the movie?

Or… No, certainly not. You refuse to entertain that thought.

But, if not the movie and not from outside, where else could the sound be coming from? Where else if not from within these very walls?

You shut the curtains and return to the sofa. Horror is swapped for a cheesy rom-com. You need the laughter and the cringe and every fluffy thing in between to calm the electricity in your nerves.

And it works. You fall asleep by the third rom-com, listening to cheesy one-liners and bad jokes with terribly written punchlines.

Knock, knock.

And then a noisy clatter.

You’re shaken from your slumber in a daze. You’re not sure what time it is or where you even are, and it takes a moment for clarity to filter in through the grogginess. You’re wrapped up in blankets on the bed in the guest room in Azul’s house and there’s someone standing at the foot of the bed, watching you in the gloom, and—

Wait.

How did you get to bed? Most importantly, what’s that blinking back at you? It can’t be Pepper. Pepper doesn’t have two-toned eyes. Pepper can’t stand on two legs. You squint through the shadows to pick out the shape of them, and your blood freezes when you realize it’s a person.  

A person. A person.

Someone’s inside the house and they’re looking right at you.

Do they know I’m awake? you think, your thoughts racing wildly. You lie there, rigid as a board and stiff as a corpse, and hope that they can’t tell. Calm down. Relax. Pepper will scare them off.

But then you notice she hasn’t barked a single time since you opened your eyes. Is she sleeping?

Terror pierces your heart. Did this person hurt her? Is she—

Don’t think about that.

Your eyes slide over towards the doorway, and you just about scream when you see another figure. The breath sticks in your throat. You know it’s another person because the way they lean so casually against the doorframe suggests a certain nonchalance with this situation. A nonchalance that can only belong to a person.

“Knock, knock. Aww. Did we wake you up?” It’s a man’s whispery drawl that combs through the room, raking through your scalp with sharp fingers, prodding at your ears like a hornet. “You looked so peaceful, too. Sorry about that.”

You’re not sure what you should do. Should you even try to run or escape when you’re already so cornered? Is there enough time to call for help? Will Pepper hear you if you shout? Should you play dead or feign sleep? What should you do?

What can you do?

You glance at the other figure. Unlike the other one, who sways and fidgets like he’s caught in a perpetual, invisible breeze, this person is perfectly, eerily still. Almost like a doll.

But then the man in the doorway laughs. “Layin’ it on thick there, ain’tcha? They’re already shakin’ like a leaf. No need to overdo it.”

A razored smile cuts through the gloom. Your eyesight adjusts enough to catch sight of a J-shaped strand of hair and the glint of an earring.

“No need to look so scared,” he continues, but you can’t pry your eyes from the other’s smile. It’s a smile of grotesque pleasure—one that feasts on fear so palpable it might as well be a three-course meal for him. “We’re not gonna hurt you.”

Then will you do something much worse? you want to ask, but all you can do is blink.

“Just gonna take you somewhere nice and cozy. Nothin’ scary about that. Ain’t that right, Jade?”

“Indeed, Floyd.” A voice as smooth and soft as melted caramel. Maybe it would’ve been soothing in a different situation. 

Before you can scream or lunge out of bed, arms are reaching out to restrain you. A hand slaps over your mouth. Fingers curl into your arms. A sickly sweet rag is stuffed against your nose.

Your feet kick against the wall, a steady knock-knock-knocking like a heartbeat, until your muscles still and the fight is drained from you. Unconsciousness blankets your body and mind within minutes.

There is nothing more unnerving than returning to an empty house, especially when it was once filled with human presence. No one knows anything, but they could’ve if there was evidence. Incriminating footage is no good.

Azul certainly thinks so while he dons his finest suit and practices a few expressions in the mirror. Pepper watches him from where she lays curled on his bed.

“A hero must look exceptional when he rescues his dearest one. Most of all, he must be innocent and trustworthy. Wouldn’t you say so, Pepper?”

At that, she can only offer a halfhearted whimper. He smiles.

“Let’s go visit my (Name).”

[skeleton-monarch]

.

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Wrong Person (College AU!)

Hockey player!Cregan Stark x Reader, Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Aemond's girlfriend has a group project with the man he hates the most, Cregan Stark.

Warning: abuse, domestic violence, alcohol consumption, implied smut, implied fighting, smoking, angst; characters generations/ages don't quite make sense but basically everyone is 20 in this

Word Count: 4.7k

Masterlist

A/N Hey guys, I know its been a while. Some of you may have figured out I stop posting as much when school picks up but here’s something I’ve been slowly piecing together

Taking a deep breath, I knocked on Aemond’s door. Softly, but not so soft he would miss it. Immediately the door swung open and I was met with Aemond’s eternally neutral expression. I felt my own heart sink as he yet again didn’t greet me with a smile. “Hey,” I greeted shyly, feeling my lips quirk up into a smile despite how disappointed I repeatedly found myself.

“Hey,” he greeted in return, stepping aside to let me through. I walked past him, finding his dorm just as I always did. It was surprisingly clean for a guy’s college dorm but Aemond was pretty tidy. Coming up behind me, he gently lifted my bag off my shoulder, placing it on the desk chair before moving me towards his bed.

I suddenly found myself wishing Criston, his roommate, was here. “Oh I actually need my-”

“What?” Aemond snapped, cutting me off.

I stared up at him for a second, trying to register just how angry he was. Finding no real, threatening anger I decided to answer him. “It’s just, I, uh I have to wrap up something quick for that project. Cregan just-”

Aemond scoffed, rolling his eyes. He walked around me, flopping onto his bed with an annoyed expression. “All I fucking hear is about Cregan fucking Stark and your project. You’ve been doing this project for like two months.”

I found my arms wrapping around myself but stopped. Aemond hated when I did that. “Stop acting like I’m gonna hurt you!” he’d say. “I’m sorry but it’s a semester long project,” I explained for the hundredth time.

“I don’t see why you had to partner with him,” Aemond grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest petulantly.

“I know, but there were no other seats.” We repeated the same conversation we’ve had dozens of times throughout this semester.

Walking into Tyrell Hall, I checked my phone. One minute until class started. Cursing, I rushed up to the second floor, quickly locating classroom 221B. Entering the room, I let out a huff seeing that every seat was filled. Scanning the room for a glimpse of an open seat, I observed my classmates. I waved to the few I knew, girls from my freshman year residence hall, some people who ran in Aemond’s circle, a few I didn’t know, and then the hockey team. They all sat in the rear corner of the room, with the only seat left being right next to their captain, Cregan Stark. Glancing at the professor, I found her looking at me expectantly so I reluctantly headed to the back of the room, trying to disappear into my hair as I walked past the hockey team.

“Now that we’re all here,” the professor started, “make sure to get to know your desk partner. You’ll be working with them all semester.” Shit.

I looked to my left, finding Cregan already giving me a shit eating grin. “Oh this is gonna be fun,” he smiled, knowing how much Aemond hated the athletes.

Aemond just got quiet, biting his lip as he looked down at his crossed arms. “C’mon, don’t be mad,” I begged, getting up on the bed. I no longer thought about it. We had been through this routine so many times I just acted. I laid on his bed, practically on top of him as I wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my head on his chest. “I hate it too but it’s only for one semester.”

Aemond huffed, uncrossing his arms so he could lay one across my shoulder, nestling me further into his chest. He didn’t say a word, rather he just looked at me. His expression wasn’t expectant but I knew what he wanted. Pushing my body up, I connected my lips to his. He immediately escalated it, turning so he could place one hand on my jaw, the other on my waist as he moved to be on top of me.

Managing to pull away slightly, I looked up at him, his lips still so close I could feel his labored breath. “Aemond, I want to, I really do,” I tried to keep him from getting mad, “but I have-”

“Is this about your project?” he interrupted me, still so close I could feel the sharpness of his breath as he got angrier.

“No,” I assured quickly. “I have a history assignment. Besides, doesn’t Criston get back from class soon?”

“I don’t care,” he said, brushing his nose against mine. “Here,” he said, leaning over me to his bedside table to grab his phone. He typed out a quick message, only briefly showing it to me before tossing it back onto his bedside table. “You can do your work tomorrow morning before class.” His words phrased as a suggestion but holding the weight of a command. He connected his lips to mine again, wasting no time slipping his hand up my shirt.

~

Sitting in class, I tried my best to ignore Cregan. The first half of class was always dedicated to lecture, with the second half going to working on our project. I was keenly aware of Cregan’s eyes flickering toward me every few moments as well as Aemond’s friends a few rows ahead. I just kept my gaze firmly on my notes and the professor’s slides.

Finally, the professor reached the end of her slides. “Okay, that wraps up today’s lecture. Turn to your partner and continue working on your projects. Remember: you should be submitting an outline to me by Monday.”

As I turned towards Cregan, making sure to keep my hair covering my neck, I caught a glimpse of Aegon’s watchful eye. Remembering Aemond, I turned to Cregan’s wolfish grin, refusing to return it. Undeterred, he leaned closer to me. “Hey, I saw you were working on the doc at five a.m. What were you doing up at that hour?” he asked good-naturedly.

“Oh, I couldn’t get to it last night so I woke up early to work on it,” I shrugged. I tried my best not to dwell on the fact that he had noticed that. And judging by his furrowed brows, I tried to ignore the fact that he was concerned about me. “Why were you up at that hour?” I returned, immediately feeling guilty for engaging him.

Cregan’s smile widened. “I was up for hockey practice and got the notifications. Speaking of which, are you coming to the game tonight?”

I sent him a look. “I think you know the answer to that.”

Cregan’s lips fell into a pout. He actually pouted at me like a dog. “C’mon, I want the girl who’s carrying me through this project there.” I just let out a breathy laugh, trying to dismiss his insistence, but thoughtlessly moved my hair, exposing the hickies Aemond had made a point to leave. Beside me, Cregan’s eyes widened. “Woah,” he exclaimed. I felt embarrassment consume me and I wanted the ground to swallow me whole in that moment as I quickly replaced my hair back where it was. “Wow, someone wants everyone to know you have a boyfriend,” Cregan chuckled.

“Cregan,” I began, ready to tell him off. The mortification must have been written all over my face because his expression morphed into silent sympathy as I looked at him.

He cleared his throat, looking down at his notes for a second before turning his attention to my laptop screen. “So where are we on the outline?” he asked. He looked back up, meeting my gaze and I gave him a soft smile of thanks before returning to the project.

~~

Cregan looked up at the stands full of students. Peering in the student section, he was disappointed but unsurprised to find the stands void of his health sciences partner.

“C’mon man, you had to know she wasn’t coming,” Benjicot Blackwood, Cregan’s best friend, interrupted his thoughts. “You know Aemond would never let her come.”

Cregan shrugged. “He’s not in charge of her. She could come.”

“Cregan,” Benji stopped his best friend, becoming very serious for once. “You know he basically controls her every move right? You had to have noticed. She basically hasn’t talked to anyone except Aemond and his friends since like October last year.”

Cregan stopped to think. Now that he thought about it, he realized that she had used to be one of the most well liked people at the university. But now, she really only had a reputation for being Aemond fucking Targaryen's girlfriend. He couldn’t believe that she of all people even looked at that silver haired prick twice.

Seeing his best friend’s dismay, Benji felt bad knowing that Cregan had had a crush on the girl since he first saw her freshman year. “Hey,” he caught his friend’s attention. “Larys told me Aemond and his little cult are going to Phi Gamma Delta tonight. Even if she isn’t there you could ‘accidentally’ spill some beer on Aemond.”

Cregan sent a mischievous look to his friend, a small smile quirking on his lips.

~

“So where are we going?” I asked Alicent as she curls my hair.

“Phi Gamma Delta,” she explained, putting down the hot wand and spraying hair spray all over me.

“Are the guys coming with us?” I asked, turning to her as she took the curling wand to her own hair.

“Yeah, Harwin is going to let the guys in,” Alicent explained, flawlessly curling her brown locks.

I stood up from her bed, going to my bag to grab my outfit. But as soon as I pulled it out, Alicent turned toward me with wide eyes. “Oh no, I already have something for you to wear so we can match,” she came up with on the spot.

“Thanks but I haven’t gotten to wear this since like first semester sophomore year,” I said, holding up the backless top. I didn’t say the quiet part out loud, I hadn’t worn it since Aemond and I got together.

“Yeah but I’m wearing a long sleeve,” Alicent said, standing up from her desk and holding up her sheer top.

“Another time,” I promised her. Grabbing my clothes, I headed for her bathroom, quickly changing into the top and my black jeans that I had cleaned beer off of so many times.

Entering the room again, Alicent had a slightly sour attitude as she finished off her hair. But I just ignored it, determined to have a good night as I got started on my makeup. Once the both of us were ready, we headed to Aemond’s room where all the guys were waiting for us.

I knocked, being louder this time so as to overcome the music that was already blasting. The door swung open, revealing Criston. “Hey!” he greeted the two of us excitedly. “The girls are here,” he announced to the very crowded dorm room.

Aemond pushed his way to the front of the room, a beer fueled smile on his face. But it dropped as soon as he saw me. My heart immediately sunk seeing his expression but he just grabbed my arm, dragging me into the dorm somewhat harshly. Before I could even speak, he was already barking orders at me. “Go grab a drink, I’ll talk to you in a second,” he spat. Disheartened and slightly scared, I went over to Criston’s desk which was lined with booze.

Aemond turned his attention to Alicent, seething. “I thought she was wearing that one long sleeve top,” he growled.

“I’m sorry, I tried to make her take it but she wouldn’t,” she defended. “I could’ve told her it was you insisting she wear it,” she threw back with a quirked brow.

Aemond just sent her a glare before going back to his girlfriend. “Hey,” he greeted, an arm slipping around my waist to bring me to face him. “Look, I’m sorry I got mad earlier its just… this top,” he said, tugging at the fabric, “is… well its basically a rectangle of fabric held together by one string,” he explained. His fingers now finding the back of my top, tugging at the string to where it almost came untied to make his point.

I averted my eyes, gaze flickered down, shame coursing through me. “I’m sorry, it’s just, I loved this top.”

“I know, baby. And I’m not trying to control what you wear just, keep close to me tonight. Not all the guys there will respect you,” he said, giving another tug to the string of my top before stepping away towards his friends.

Feeling slightly disoriented and embarrassed, I headed to the bathroom in order to fix the top before returning to the pregame, trying to forget the earlier conversation with cheap booze.

After a few more moments, Aemond had declared that it was time for us to all go to the frat. As we all headed over, Aemond had his arm slung across my shoulder. By the time we reached the house, I was shivering thanks to all my exposed skin, and slightly wishing I had listened to Alicent.

As soon as we entered, Alicent grabbed my hand, dragging me to the dance floor as the DJ started to play Super Bass. It wasn’t long after we had been jumping around on the dance floor that Aemond found me again, moving to stand behind me with one hand around my waist and the other holding a beer.

After a couple songs, I felt Aemond’s fingers tap on my hip before his lips came up behind my ear. “I’m gonna go out back for a smoke. Be safe,” he advised before taking his leave, a few of the guys following him upstairs out of the basement.

I just turned back to Alicent who seemed to relieved to not have anyone hovering around her so she could let loose. I laughed as her dancing became more wild and sloppy. That was until her eyes went wide and she was looking at the staircase leading out of the basement. Confused, I turned to find the entire hockey team filling the stairway, with Cregan Stark standing at the top of the staircase.

He looked around for a moment as he descended the stairs, before his eyes settled on me and a smile broke across his face. It was as if Aemond’s training kicked in or something because I had the sudden urge to go find him but something in me kept me firmly rooted to the ground. Maybe it was the beer and god knows what other sticky substances keeping my shoes on the floor of this frat basement.

Either way, it was too late to leave because Cregan was pushing his way through the crowd towards me until he towered over me. The dancing bodies of other students being no match for his hulking frame. He stooped down, bringing his lips closer to my ear. “Hi,” he greeted, pulling away with a bright smile.

“Hi,” I returned, not even bothering to try to reach up to reach his ear.

“Where’s your owner?” he asked sarcastically.

I sent him a look when he pulled away. He just laughed, bringing his lips to my ear again. “I kid. But seriously, I’m surprised he’s not attached to your hip making sure someone like me isn’t talking to you,” he teased.

This time he didn’t immediately stand up, allowing me to talk in his ear to answer. “He’s in the backyard. He’ll be out soon,” I answered.

“Well then I guess I have to make due with the time I have,” Cregan smiled. Before I could protest, his hand found mine, tugging me towards him. His grip was tight enough to move me, but not so tight that I couldn’t slip out if I wanted to.

I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help but move with Cregan, finding laughs building in my chest as I watched him dance. We were having a good time until all of a sudden Cregan got a serious expression on his face, standing straight up and looking toward the staircase. I didn’t even have time to follow his gaze before he grabbed my arm tugging me behind him.

“Hey! Wha-” I began to protest as I was whirled around but the words died in my throat as I realized why Cregan had gotten serious.

Currently pushing through the crowd was a murderous looking Aemond. Rather than rush to calm him like I probably should, I found myself cowering behind the hockey captain, clinging to his arm. “Stark!” Aemond barked across the crowded room, so loud everyone managed to hear it. “What the hell are you doing with my girlfriend?” he spat, getting in Cregan’s face.

“Nothing, we were just dancing,” he answered coolly. “Then you came down here looking like you wanted to murder someone.”

Aemond rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, maybe don’t dance with another guy’s girlfriend next time.” He turned his gaze to me, holding out his hand expectantly. “Come on, we’re leaving.”

The fear coursing through me was screaming at me to take his hand but something wouldn’t let my body move. Cregan sent a glance back towards me before turning to Aemond. “She doesn’t wanna go with you.”

“Stay out of this,” Aemond seethed. “This is none of your business.” He then looked at me expectantly again. “We’re going,” he spat.

By now the music had died down and everyone was looking at us. Glancing around, I saw both the hockey team and Aemond’s friends coming towards us, prepared to back up their guys. “Nah, I’m not letting her go with you,” Cregan declared. “Not until you calm down.”

That just seemed to ignite a fury in Aemond. “She’s my girlfriend, Stark,” he spat through gritted teeth. “She’s perfectly fine with me and I sure as hell am not leaving my girlfriend with any of you,” he nodded to the hockey team.

“Then why does she look terrified of you right now?” Benji interjected.

“Shut up, Blackwood,” Criston spat.

All of the guys started arguing, yelling at the others to shut up. Still behind Cregan, I snapped my head behind me as I felt a gentle hand brush against mine. Turning, I found Rhaenyra looking at me with a concerned, gentle look. I just stared at her for a moment before Alicent’s voice brought me back to the conflict.

“Enough!” she got in between Cregan and Aemond. “I’m taking her back to her dorm unless all of you,” she pointed at the guys on both sides, “want to leave.”

There were some grumbles but no one protested. “I’ll go with her too,” Rhaenyra offered.

Not letting the boys fight it out even more, I spoke up. “Yeah, we’re going home,” I agreed. Stepping away from Cregan, I shakily approached Aemond. He was looking at me like I had committed some serious sin against him. “I’m sorry,” I whispered softly. I tried to move past him but he grabbed my waist, pulling me into an aggressive kiss. I could taste the beer and smoke on his lips as he forced his lips into mine. And I had a sneaking suspicion his eyes were locked onto Cregan’s.

When he released me, I let out a shuddered breath as his hand rested on my hip. “We’ll discuss this tomorrow,” his voice was grave. But his hand came off my waist, as if giving me permission to walk away.

Nothing was really said as I left the frat with Alicent and Rhaenyra on my heels. They both tried to ask me multiple times if I was okay, to which I just nodded in agreement. My mind was too consumed playing out what had just happened. But as soon as we were within ten minutes of my dorm, I stopped walking and turned to the two girls behind me. “I’m good here if you guys wanna head home or back to the party. I appreciate you coming with me but I think I just need to be alone right now.”

They both sent each other a glance. “We’re not letting you walk alone at night,” Rhaenyra protested.

“I’ll be fine,” I insisted.

They both looked at each other reluctantly before looking toward me. “Okay but, call someone if you start to feel freaked out,” Alicent said.

“I will,” I agreed, before turning on my heel and walking away.

Immediately, I pulled out my phone, afraid to see what was on there. Opening it, I was first confronted with a text from Cregan.

Hey sorry about tn If he tries anything with you let me know and I’ll handle it

My heart melted reading his messages. I wanted to cry at how sweet he had been lately, mostly because Aemond had been anything but.

Going to our messages, I found nothing. I didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing. I’m sure my refusal to move would come up some way or another.

I swiped out of my messages with Aemond, going back to Cregan. Reluctantly, I held down on the message until the option to delete it popped up. My finger hesitated over the delete button before I hit it. Just like I had deleted all his flirty texts. Leaving nothing but the texts about our project.

~

The next morning, I was woken up by incessant banging on my door. Glancing quickly at the clock, I saw that it read eight a.m. Rushing to the door, I opened it without checking who it was because deep down, I already knew.

As the door flew open I immediately took a step back, finding Aemond practically glowing with fury. “What the hell was that last night?” he spat, storming into my room.

I backed up as he entered, the door slamming shut behind him. For the first time, I cursed the fact that my roommate went home every weekend. “Aemond, I’m-”

My words were cut off as he lunged forward, his hand coming to close around my throat. “You’re what?” he spat. “Sorry? Sorry for humiliating me? Making me look like an awful person?” But I hardly heard a word, too busy trying to process the fact that he had actually grabbed me by the throat and was choking me. But it seemed my silence angered him more as his fist became tighter and he pressed me up against the wall. My vision was beginning to fade as he crushed my windpipe even tighter. “You cowered away from your boyfriend behind Cregan fucking Stark! Do you know how that makes me look? This,” he said, referring to his hand around my throat, “is because of you. You make me out to be some abuser, fine. It can be that way,” he spat before dragging me to the floor.

I coughed and sputtered as I hit the ground. Hard. “I’m sorry,” I managed to gasp out through tears and desperate gulps of air. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”

Aemond stood over me, bending down to get in my face. “You’re damn right you weren’t thinking straight. I’ll see you Monday and you better have fixed this attitude by then,” he said before marching out of my room.

~

That entire weekend I just flipped between numbly trying to wrap my head around what happened and sobbing violently. Every time I caught a glimpse of my bruised neck in the mirror—Aemond’s fingers clearly marked in my skin—or thought about the feeling of his hand around my throat.

I stood in the bathroom, my skin blotchy from the tears and black and blue covering my neck. I had only just managed to start being able to look at myself without immediately dissolving into sobs when my phone rang. Hesitantly, I picked it up, finding Cregan’s name scrawled across my screen. After another moment of hesitation, I answered the call. “Hello?” I answered, immediately cringing at the hoarseness of my voice.

“Hey,” Cregan’s voice came over the phone, his concern apparent. “Are you okay?” His heart was racing as he heard the scratchiness in her voice.

I hesitated for a moment, trying to clear my throat but it was no use. Between the choking and nearly two days worth of sobbing, my voice was fried. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“No you’re not, I’m coming over,” Cregan informed, already getting up from his bed.

“Cregan,” I began to protest.

“You’re still in Benjen Hall 514, right?” Cregan asked.

I opened my mouth to protest but the words wouldn’t fall. So instead, I gave a reluctant confirmation.

“I’ll be over in five.”

I hung up the phone, going over to my bed and slinking onto it. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I should try to clean myself up and hide the hand print on my neck. But if I hod it, what life was I resigning myself to?

I didn’t have much time to act because there was a knock at my door. I found myself rushing to open the door, despite my resistance to being seen by anyone. But either way, I opened the door, quickly ushering Cregan inside before letting it shut again, once again hiding Aemond’s act from the world.

After observing my room for a moment, Cregan turned to me. “So what’s wrong?” he asked.

I realized I was looking at the ground, effectively hiding my face and neck. After a second of hesitation, I looked up, letting him see the bruises and tear stains. His eyes widened, his jaw even dropping as he saw my state. He just stared at me for a moment before he spoke hesitantly. “Did- did Aemond do that?” he asked, horror lacing his voice. I only nodded reluctantly.

I watched the shock turn to sympathy, to hurt, to finally anger. His jaw locked and his fists curled as he took a step away from me. “That little-” he couldn’t even finish his insult he was so angry. “Did you get my text? Why didn’t you call?”

“I-” I began but I was cut off my my cringe at the sound of my own voice. “I don’t know. The past few days have just been a blur.”

Cregan stepped towards me. I flinched as he came towards me to which he immediately stopped. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he swore. He took another hesitant step forward until he was gently grasping my shoulders. “I am however, gonna beat the shit out of that deadbeat boyfriend of yours. Or should I say, ex-boyfriend.”

“Cregan,” I began, my hands finding his chest. “I-” I didn’t even know what I wanted to say. I just broke down into sobs as I fell into his chest. In response, he just hugged me tightly, running his fingers through my hair.

“Hey, it’ll be okay,” he hushed me. “I swear I’ll be right back.”

~~

Cregan cringed as he knocked on room 514. His knuckles were bloody but he didn’t care. Immediately the door swung open, revealing his health sciences partner. She immediately threw herself into his arms, much to the hockey player’s joy. He hugged her tighter as her legs came to wrap around his hips. Entering the threshold of the room, he let the door fall shut behind him as her feet fell back down onto the ground. “No one’s ever gonna hurt you again,” Cregan swore, his forehead resting against hers. “I promise you.”

Masterlist

[sunny44]

Never the first choice

Pairing: Lando Norris x bf!reader

Warnings: angst, crying, fighting

Summary: Y/n is never Lando’s first choice.

I sat at the restaurant table, trying to focus on the conversation. The guy in front of me was kind, funny, and interesting—everything someone could want on a date. But my mind was elsewhere. Every time he smiled, I imagined someone else's smile. When he spoke, it was as if I was waiting for someone else's voice to fill the silence.

"Are you okay?" he asked, noticing my distraction.

I forced a smile. "Yes, I'm fine. Sorry, I'm just a little tired."

He nodded, accepting my excuse without question. But the truth was much more complicated. Lando was always somewhere in the back of my mind, whether he was at a McLaren practice, at a Grand Prix, or even when I was on dates like this. I hated myself for it. I hated myself for not being able to move on, for still being stuck on someone who didn’t have the courage to choose me.

I was about to ask for the check, determined to end the date before my heart got even more tangled, when I saw him. Lando walked into the restaurant, his eyes immediately finding mine, as if he had some kind of radar that always guided him to me.

"Y/n?" my date called my attention, realizing that I was staring at something—or someone—behind him.

"Sorry, I just need a minute," I murmured, already standing up. I didn’t know what he was doing here, but I knew nothing good could come of it.

I walked over to Lando, meeting him near the entrance, with an expression I knew all too well—determination mixed with possessiveness.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered, trying to stay calm.

"I... I needed to talk to you," he replied, his voice tense.

"Now? In the middle of my date?" I could already feel my patience running thin. Lando always showed up at the most inconvenient times, as if he knew exactly when I was about to move on.

"Yes, now," he insisted, stepping closer to me. "This guy isn’t right for you."

That was the last straw. "You cannot be serious. You crash my date to tell me this guy isn’t right for me? And who are you to decide that, Lando?"

Before he could respond, my date approached, a look of confusion on his face. "Is everything okay here?"

I wanted to scream, to apologize to him, but all I could do was shake my head.

"I... I’m leaving." Lando stepped closer to me, but I raised my hand, signaling him to stop. "No. Don’t touch me."

The other guy—who didn’t matter much to me anymore, since my heart was focused on Lando—shook his head in resignation. "I guess I’ll leave you two to talk."

I watched him walk away, a mix of anger and disappointment washing over me. Lando just stood there, and I didn’t know if I wanted to hug him or push him away. In the end, I chose the latter.

"You’re unbelievable," I began, my voice trembling with anger. "If you really wanted to be with me, you wouldn’t have gone on a date two weeks ago. Remember that date, Lando? The one you thought I didn’t know about?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but I wasn’t willing to listen.

"So you have no right to ruin my date, just because you’re not man enough to ask me out."

I could see the surprise in his eyes, as if he didn’t expect me to know. But the truth is, ever since I met Lando, I’ve always known when he was getting close to other people. He was unpredictable, and that was one of his charms—and one of his biggest flaws.

"Y/n, it’s not like that..." he started, but I raised my hands, refusing to hear.

"No, Lando, it’s exactly like that. It always has been. And it always will be, right? I’m only your first choice when no one better comes along." I felt the tears start to fall, but I continued, the pain turning into an unexpected strength. "I won’t be your second choice, Lando. I won’t be the person you always turn to when you need to get your dick wet.”

He tried to grab my arm, but I pulled away.

"Don’t touch me. That’s enough, im not gonna deal with this forever."

I turned, grabbed my bag, and walked away from him. The sound of my heels echoed in the restaurant, and the feeling of relief mixed with a deep sadness. The sound of laughter and conversations around us seemed so distant, as if I was in a completely different universe, where all that mattered was the pain in my chest.

When I reached the door, I stopped for a second, hoping he would come after me, say something that would change everything. But all I heard was silence.

I stepped out into the street, the cool night air hitting my face. Finally, the tears I had been holding back fell, and I allowed myself to cry. Cry for me, cry for Lando, cry for the love I never managed to have.

But as the tears fell, a firm decision began to form within me. I was tired of waiting, tired of being the second choice. Lando might not know what he wanted, but I did. I knew I deserved more, deserved someone who would choose me without hesitation, without doubts.

And above all, I knew that no matter how much I loved him, it wasn’t worth it if I always ended up feeling like this—alone, broken, and in second place. I deserved more. And in that moment, I decided I was going to find it, even if it meant leaving Lando behind.

Bonus scene!

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“Getting used to be sad and alone all the time”

[teliphone]

Love like a Fool

Summary: I shouldn’t known from the moment my heart felt more for Caitlyn, that it was a mistake. I thought love was supposed to be about taking risks and loving like a fool. I don’t want to regret anything, but I have to limit myself because she feels uneasy. Is it because of me? I must be lacking in many ways. I promised myself to get better. I need to prove to others that I can.  

Warning: Slight fluff then pure angst 

Pairing: Caitlyn Kiramman X Fem Reader

Word Count: 6.2k

-

The target moves back and forth in quick and uneven motion as a way to stimulate the movement of humans. I place the sniper rifle closer to my body. The cold metal pressed against my chest. I narrow my eyes at the target watching it jerk back and forth. I place my finger against the trigger as I start to steady my breathing. My heart rate begins to slow. The breeze in the air seems to be silent for a moment. My eyes quickly shift to focus on one target as it starts rolling toward the center of the scope. A loud bang comes from my gun as I press the trigger. The smell of gun smoke reaches my nose as the smoke rises from the nozzle. I lower the gun and tilt my body to examine the shot. A hole is evident on the target, but not where I was trying to aim. The bullet was several inches below the head of the target. I frown and feel disappointment arising from within. 

I want to be better and prove to others that I can take on tougher tasks. I’ve been assigned as an enforcer, stuck with the simple role of Piltover's council gatekeeper. I want to be part of the bigger action, specifically, to be part of Caitlyn’s team. 

I know I am capable, or at least… I hope I am. 

News spread that Caitlyn Kiramman has become a Sheriff and I couldn’t agree more. She is amazing at her job. I’ve secretly studied her in admiration. I saw her in action. She is stern and confident, but at the same time so graceful. She balances fear and love so well. Her facade never falls to others, but I sense there’s a softness in her gaze when she notices me. It’s a quick and small look, so I can’t put a finger on it. All I can do in response is smile back while feeling my cheeks heat up. 

“Practicing again?” A voice snaps me out of daydreaming. A recognizable British accent. Refined and poised. I turn my head to see Caitlyn standing with her arms crossed. I widen my eyes before saluting her. She has a soft grinning smirk on her lips. Her beautiful long blue hair falls over her shoulders. She’s in her work uniform, seemingly that she just finished a task. 

“Yes,” I quickly respond to her question. She chuckles shortly and walks over, eyeing the target. She stops next to me, a little closer than I expected and I feel my heart rate increase. My eyes quickly flicker at the curves of her body then back down the ground in respect. 

“You practice quite a lot,” She notes. This isn’t the first time I’ve bumped into her at the practice shooting area. It’s actually quite often. Caitlyn is strict with her studies and skills. She needs to do things perfectly right. It is not strange to find her at the shooting range after work hours. She has gotten used to seeing me there as well. She never said it, but I believe she likes how I’m willing to get better. She notices how other enforcers don’t practice as much.

I shyly run my hand on the back of my neck. Her eyes glance down to watch my reaction. I peek between my eyelashes and make eye contact with her. The closeness and eye contact make me unconsciously grip the gun. I quickly look back down to the ground. Examining the distance between our shoes. 

“I want to prove to others I can be good,” I finally admit. I didn’t want to reveal the part where I dream of being in her team. 

That would be too silly of a confession. 

She raises her eyebrows and pauses, deep in thought. The wind gently blows against my bare skin as silence coats the air. I feel anxiety increasing while she continues to stare at me, motionless and speechless. There’s a shift in her eyes, a shift that I don’t understand. 

Does she think I can’t be good? Is she too afraid to tell me the truth? 

Thoughts swirl in my head naturally. It’s a negative trait that I endure every day. My mind runs thousands of thoughts that can be entirely false. But I also believe certain voices are true, but I have yet to distinguish the two. I furrow my eyebrows and force myself to look away from her. I couldn’t bear to continue to theorize what her expression meant. I hear her shift her body to lean her body weight against the bullet-loading table. 

“I can help you,” She offers. I feel my heart stop pounding to make sure I didn’t hear her wrong. I jerk my head up with wide eyes. Caitlyn, the best sniper shooter, is going to help me. 

“Are you serious?” I hesitate. What did I do to deserve this special treatment from her? She simply nods and a few hair strands fall over her face. She smiles while brushing her bangs behind her ear. I am still speechless, not knowing what to do next. She figures and gently reaches for my gun. Her fingers curl around the handle, a few centimeters from my hand. She brings it up to my chest. I look at her in confusion yet again. 

“Show me how you aim,” She orders. I lick my lips and move quickly to action. I do not want to waste a single second of getting trained by her. I turn my body to the targets and lift the gun up. I lean my head down to look through the scope. Suddenly I feel Caitlyn move her body to locate behind me. Her fingers gently tilt the tip of the gun at a specific angle. Her other hand moves to my hip. Like a young girl in love, my heart pounds hard. I would also blame the fact that I am touched starved. Working as an enforcer limits the time I can spend romanticizing with others. People also avoid me. I am no one special, I like to believe. 

This is far from romantic. I know she doesn’t like me, but with her body heat pressing against me. I can’t help it. It’s quite embarrassing. 

“You should stand more straight,” She corrects. I shiver at the realization of how close her lips are to my ears. The distance sends chills down my body. No amount of daydreaming can make up for this moment. I shallow away my emotions and straighten my back. I feel myself press against her chest. 

“Slow down your heartbeat and breathing,” She chuckles. My cheeks start warming. 

“Sorry,” I squeak. She doesn’t respond, but instead continues to coach. She removes her hand from my hip and grips my shoulders. She reminds me to tighten my muscles and grip. Once she is satisfied with my position, she removes herself and stands back. I secretly let out a breath of relief. If she continued pressing her body against me, I wouldn't be able to perform accurately. That was the last thing I wanted to do in front of her. 

“Now focus and calculate the timing,” She orders. I close my eyes to calm my breathing. When I feel my heartbeat going at a steady pace, I open my eyes. My sight completely focuses on the target. 

I need to get this right. I have to impress Caitlyn. 

My attention zooms into a specific target and I press into the trigger. Another loud bang echoes into the sky. I let out a shaky breath of anticipation. I immediately lower my gun to look at the target. I guess my hope was too high. The bullet hole was a few centimeters from the head. Better than before, but not perfect. 

Not perfect enough for Caitlyn. 

My shoulders slowly drop and I feel anxious thoughts creeping up again. I frown and look at her nervously. I don’t know what to expect. To my surprise, she seems sort of proud. 

“Good job,” She compliments. 

-

A couple of months of training have passed faster than I realize. I am surprised at how long she agreed to train me. No one else has gotten this special treatment. Even though there are times when she’s tired from a mission, she would still show up. As time went on it wasn't just training anymore. We would go out to eat dinner or a picnic on a sunny day. Not only have my skills increased, but my crush on her did as well. I spent too much time with her to not develop deeper feelings. I didn’t want to. I wanted things professional, just in case I ruined things. 

The more time we spent together, the more people talked about us. Baseless rumors begin to spread. I didn’t want to hear it, but people spoke loudly- as if I wasn’t there. They all picture me as someone who manipulated her way to Caitlyn. That I am nothing special. I have no rich or authoritative name for myself. No one knew who I was until I started involving myself with her. 

I thought these accusations would cause Caitlyn to stay away from me. She’s everything I’m not. After all, she has an image to keep. I do not want to stain it. 

But, she never stopped. 

Caitlyn started to teach me about combat. She wanted to enhance not only my shooting skills but my fighting as well.  

So here we are, standing on the mat with our fists up. I suck in a deep breath as sweat begins collecting on my neck. I feel a slight painful sore developing on my stomach from her punch that I failed to block. She gestures a finger at me to make the first move. I launch myself to her and she swiftly dodges and elbows my back. I grunt and stumble on my footing. I gather myself, not wanting to give up and turn to face her. Her eyes hint with glee when she notices a shift in my face. I clench my jaw and focus on her moves. Then I saw it. A small opening where I can tackle her. I rush forward, grabbing her arm. She lets out a gasp in surprise before I hurl her onto the ground. I quickly pin her onto the ground by locking my thighs around her wrist. 

I smiled brightly, my eyes sparkling. I finally did it. Her chest moves up and down quickly as she gets lost in my joy. She places her elbow onto the ground to support half her body up. I continued smiling, unaware of the plan she had in mind. 

She leans her head closer, testing the waters. Her lips linger over mine before she pulls back a little. Her heavy-lidded eyes gaze up. My smile begins to slowly drop in realization. I gulp and a blush appears on my cheeks. Her eyes flicker from my lips and back to my eyes. I hesitate, not knowing what to do, but I lean forward. Eager to capture her lips, but afraid to make the first move. She gently smiles, understanding my actions before closing the distance.

Her soft lips pressed against mine. I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my fist.  She brings her hands up to touch my cheeks. Her thumbs draw a circle while her soft lips continue to move. I lean deeper into the kiss, wanting to permanently remember this moment forever. All my anxious thoughts seem to be silent just for a short moment. She is the first to pull away from the kiss. Leaning her forehead against mine. I place my hand over hers and smile. 

Caitlyn’s eyes suddenly become stern and she pulls her body away. My mind races in worry. I furrow my eyebrows while looking at her in confusion. 

“I’m sorry,” She apologizes. I shake my head slowly, trying to understand. 

Was the kiss a mistake? Did I do something wrong? 

“I…” I hesitate. I worry about my next words. I worried that she would push herself away if I said the wrong things. I wanted to confess my feelings, but I was afraid I would embarrass myself if she said it was a mistake. I wanted to tell her it was okay, but I feared she would think I didn’t feel anything. A part of me was so terrified that she did feel something for me, but the kiss awakened a realization in her. 

I never got the chance to gather my thoughts before she got up. I try to reach out and grab her wrist, but she hurries away. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll… see you sometime again,” She says before disappearing. I feel my eyes begin to water. My anxious thoughts may be right this time. As much as I try to think of a different conclusion, my negativity chokes up any other possible reasoning. 

-

Caitlyn avoided me. Every time she sees me walking by, she turns in the other direction. I try to force a smile. Understanding that she may be struggling with her thoughts. All I can do for her is to wait. I need to understand that I’m not enough for her. After several more days, I thought she had forgotten me. I went to my regular shooting range hoping to bump into her, but she never showed up. 

As I walk with my head down, I see a pair of shoes stop in front of me. I can immediately recognize her shoes. Caitlyn had blocked my walking pathway. I jerk back in surprise before examining her in confusion. Her eye circles are dark and her hair is messy. It seems like she has been lacking sleep. She licks her lips and plays with her fingers. I stand silent with a pounding heart, waiting for her to speak. She lets out a breath and I brace myself for the worst. 

“I’m sorry I avoided you,” She begins. I pause for a moment as her words sink. I summon my confidence by clenching my fist. My lips waver as I try to smile at her. I wasn’t actually happy, but I wanted to show her I appreciated her stepping up. I understand why she would want to avoid me. 

“It’s okay,” I answer, a little shaky for my liking. She glances around the hall as I assume she’s making sure no one else is around. A few people walk by, giving me an unexplainable stare. I tilt my head to the side to avoid people’s eyes. She then grabs my hand and tugs me along with her. I stumble on my footsteps to catch up with her. She pulls us into a dark room and slams the door. She breathes heavily, her chest moving up and down before turning to face me again. I stand awkwardly in the middle of the room. I can still see her figure with the small lamp in the corner. 

“I… I think I like you,” She confesses like the truth has been choking her to death. It's as if it’s a surprise that someone like her could be interested in someone like me. She stared at me with a scared expression like she didn’t fully understand herself. I feel my heart ache, but I force a smile again. 

She’s been struggling because of me. 

I opened my mouth to speak, but I realized I couldn’t say anything. 

“I don’t know what to say,” I admit. I shift my body weight uncomfortably. My hands come up to wrap themselves around me. A poor attempt to comfort myself. She pushes herself from the door and walks over to me. She hesitates a little, before reaching down to touch my hands. I stare at the way her fingers hold mine. She’s so gentle. 

“I want to try and love you,” She pauses, “but we have to do it in secret,” 

I tilt my head up to look at the sincerity in her eyes. I can tell she is worried. Wondering how people would view her if they found out she was meeting up with someone lowly like me. Debating if this reveal would hurt my feelings. It’s a little humorous that she doesn’t know the lengths I would go for her. 

I tightened my grip on her hands and tugged her a little closer. I examine the beauty that reflects off the orange light. She’s a beautiful woman worthy of respect and care. I remove one hand from her hold and place it on her cheeks. She leans into the touch, letting out a shaky breath. 

“I would do anything for you,” I confess like a fool in love. Her eyes dilate and she lets out a sigh of relief. Her shoulders relax as she finally smiles.

-

I never thought how much more I could fall for Caitlyn. I love her. I didn’t care about the hidden touches behind doors. The secret messages we pass. It was our love that I couldn’t regret. We completely ignore each other when passing by in the halls. Oh, how I wish I could shout to the world about her. Rumors between her and I have successfully died out. 

I wait patiently in my room, waiting for the skies to become darker so that Caitlyn can sneak her way over. I hear quiet quick knocks on the door. I stumble my way over and swing the door open. She stands with a shy smile on her face. I quickly grab her wrist and tug her in, slamming the door behind me. 

I pull her into a hug, soaking in her warmth and scent. She hugs back with the same amount of eagerness. We stay silent for a few more seconds before I pull away.

“Are you hungry?” I ask as I walk to the kitchen, “I can start preparing-“ 

She calls my name, cutting me off. I stop in my tracks to look at her. She seems hesitant again, her eyes wavering. A look that brings me back to the day we stood in the dark room. 

“I have to tell you something,” She explains. She starts walking to the coach and I follow along. I sit down, my knees brushing against hers. She reaches over to touch my hand with a stern look. 

“I got put on a very important case,” She says. I widen my eyes and smile. 

“Well, that’s great news right?” I chirp. She lets out a nervous laugh. Her gaze averts to the side for a brief second. My smile begins to drop slightly. 

“It is… but I have to be gone for a year,” She reveals.

“A year?” I repeat slowly. My grip starts to loosen from her hold. I shouldn’t be scared, but there is a part of me that worries. So much can happen in a year. 

“It’s a mission to go to the undercity and-“

I start to zone out. Undercity? That place is filled with horror stories. No sane person dares to step foot in there. At least that was how I was taught by others. I can’t imagine myself letting Caitlyn go down there. It’s just not safe. 

She squeezes my hands and I look back at her. My face is mixed with many emotions. I should not stop her from doing her job, but I don’t want her gone for a year in Undercity. What if she gets hurt and I can’t find her? How can I make a decision when I am unsure of myself? 

“Can you wait for me?” She whispers. 

The decision has already been made. 

I squeeze my eyes shut as I turn my head to the side. I didn’t want her to see me cry. She places her hands on my cheeks and slowly turns me to face her. I feel the warmth of her hands. 

“…when do you leave?” I sniff. 

“Tomorrow morning,” She responds. Time seems to pause for a moment. I wish it stayed like that; so that I could stay by her side longer. Tomorrow? This is so soon and sudden. I searched in Caitlyn’s eyes to find some type of hesitation, but there was nothing. I force myself to smile as my heart feels crushed. Nothing is going to stop her, not even my feelings. I understand that feelings alone can’t dictate her decision, but I wish it was considered just a little bit more. 

Did she really care about how I would feel? Did I not cross her mind when she accepted the mission? Do I matter that little? 

All the anxious thoughts blew away when Caitlyn pulled me in for a hug. How foolish am I to disregard my hurt so fast for her? Love makes a person a fool. 

-

Five months have passed since Caitlyn left to go to the Undercity. I have gotten used to the feeling of being alone. This feeling is rather normal and something I am more familiar with. I still keep my duties of guarding the gates of the council building. Days and days of people not sparing me a second glance as they walk by. I sometimes wonder if they would even notice if I didn’t show up one day. 

I keep the house clean. Making sure Caitlyn’s extra clothes are tucked neatly in my closet, ready for the day she comes back. When I lay in bed, I close my eyes and place my hand on the side where she usually lays. I imagine she is next to me. Humming and running her fingers through my hair. I smile for a moment, then frown when I realize I’m daydreaming again. It’s awfully cold without her touch. 

11 months have passed and I feel impatient for her return. The picture I keep on the desk lacks dust by how many times I’ve touched it. Running my fingers across her face to remind myself of how soft her skin feels. My heart squeezes when I examine the bright smile that the camera captures. I gently place the picture down and lean my head against the cold surface of the desk. 

Just a little more. I can wait, just like how she asked me to do. A simple task. I can do it. 

-

1 year and 1 month has passed. Anxiety eats away my skin as I scratch the surface with my nails. The councils ordered a one-month expansion, just in case Caitlyn had something important to do before they sent out a search for her. The enforcers are starting to become worried at the lack of her appearance. 

The councils issue a meeting to form a team of three of the best enforcers. I stand by the door with a racing heart, listening to the councils talk amongst themselves. They list off the best enforcers on documents. The back of my neck starts to feel hot. My feet feel the urge to step forward. I must go to find my love. I find myself walking forward recklessly.

“I apologize for my unprofessional behavior, but please allow me to join the team,” My voice clashes and silences the room. I glance around to see the confused look on their faces. They had no idea I was there. 

“And who are you?” One of the council's questions. They rub their fingers together with an amused smile. I bow down to show my respect. I tell them my name and title, with a shaky voice. There’s another pause again, til I hear someone snicker. That causes a domino effect where they all start to laugh. I bite my bottom lip as an embarrassing blush forms on my cheeks. My eyes water, tears forming at the edge. I turn my head down to stare at the floor. They question me and my motives:

“I never even noticed her there,”

“What can a gatekeeper do?”

“I admire how much courage that little girl has,”

“Why are you so concerned?” Mrs. Kiramman’s question sounds the clearest among the others. I tilt my head up to look at her. The truth feels like acid in my throat. Caitlyn had asked me to keep our relationship a secret. I must keep the promise. It’s not like it was hard to do so. I fully understand now why Caitlyn wanted it that way. They don’t take me seriously. I am just a laughing stock at this moment. I can’t dirty her name. 

I lick my trembling lips and shake my head. 

“I-I just want to-”

“I’m sorry dear, but we have an important discussion to do. The fate of my daughter relies on someone who can actually save her. Return to your position,” Mrs. Kiramman orders. I choke back my words. The little courage I have left vanishes. I quickly bow once more before walking back to my place. They return back to their conversation as normal, while I fight back tears. The uniform feels hot and stuffy against my skin. I feel unworthy of wearing the enforcer gear. 

The moon appears bright in the sky as I sneak my way down the streets. I tug my hoodie closer to hide my face as I make my way to the Undercity. I am going to search for Caitlyn on my own. 

The air starts to become more dense. I have never been here before. I can feel my anxious heart beating rapidly. A few strangers study me as I walk by. I grip my jacket closer to my body, avoiding their eyes. My footsteps quicken with one solid plan in mind. 

Find Caitlyn. 

I didn’t care how reckless I was being. Walking into the Undercity with no solid plan. I can’t even confidently say I can protect myself. Anything can happen to me before I can even find her. 

After walking for several minutes I realized how big this city is. I can’t just simply bump into her. I desperately look around to find someone that looks the least threatening. The task was harder to do than I expected. Most of the people are drunk or hunching their bodies as they are ready to launch forward. I scan more until I find a young boy. Innocent eyes with a few dirt marks scuffed on his cheeks. I walk to him, trying not to scare him off. He seems hesitant at first before I take my hoodie off to show my face. His shoulders visually relax. I kneel down to eye level with him. 

“Hi, can you help me find someone?” I whisper. His eyes dart around then back to me. He doesn’t respond. I shuffle around in my pocket to find money. Once I pull it out his eyes brighten. He quickly nods his head in agreement. 

“Can you help me find Caitlyn Kiramman? She is about this tall,” I stand to gesture her height, “she has blue hair and a sharp nose,” 

I try my best to describe her to him. I hoped that the description was enough for him. Caitlyn doesn’t look like she belongs in the Undercity. It must be easy to locate her. 

The young boy ponders for a moment before his eyes brighten. He places his hand out and motions me to hand the cash. I place it on top of his hand and he quickly puts it in his pocket. He gestures to me to follow along, his little footsteps patter on the ground. It took about several minutes before he paused and pointed down the street. I tilt my head to examine the low-light street. 

“She’s there?-“ I ask, but the little boy has already run off. I softly chuckle before composing myself. My heart quickens and the sound of my breathing is loud due to how quiet the streets are. I stand still for a moment to evaluate the setting. That’s when I hear a gentle giggle. 

A giggle that sends a wave of crashing memories. My eyes begin to water as I hear the sound again. It’s Caitlyn. I am sure of it. I silently follow the sound. I hear another voice, but can’t make out who it could be. Maybe Caitlyn made a friend while she was staying here. The sound leads me to a tunnel with stairs. 

I hide beside the walls and peek up the tunnel. There in the middle of the stairs is Caitlyn with another woman. My eyes widen in joy. Butterflies flutter in my stomach as I can’t contain my excitement. I found her! She’s alive and well! I open my mouth to excitedly shout her name, but quickly stop. 

Caitlyn places her hands on the woman’s hip, pulling her closer. She giggles again, biting the bottom of her lip. The woman sweetly smiles and leans her head closer. She kisses Caitlyn slowly, running her hands down her waist. 

Overwhelming sorrow sinks deep within me. My eyes become glossy, blurring my vision of them. My hand jerks up to grip my chest. It squeezes and pounds in pain. I never knew my heart could physically hurt. I gasp for air as I feel like I’m about to collapse. I lose my footing for a moment, sliding against the wall. I place a hand on the cold wall to hold myself.

I hear Caitlyn softly calling out my name in confusion. I quickly blink to clear my vision. Caitlyn walks down the stairs till she stands in front of me. She stares at me with a shocked expression. I feel myself forcing a stupid smile again. I squeeze my chest to numb the pain again. 

“…Hi,” I choke out. A failed attempt to sound happy. Her eyebrows furrow as she shakes her head.  

“What are you doing here?” She asks. I want to cry out laughing. How can she ask that question? It’s been longer than a year, did she lose track of time? Was she too busy? 

“Who is this?” The woman beside her asks. Caitlyn's eyes move back and forth anxiously. 

“…She’s just an enforcer,” Caitlyn reveals. I furrow my eyebrows in despair and disgust. I’m just an enforcer to her? 

Was all the lovely touches nothing to her? Did the day she cried on my lap mean nothing? Whose name did she moan out when I touched her? 

Without thinking I march up to her to push her. At least something to express my hurt, but the woman steps in front and shoves me hard. I slam against the wall and let out a small grunt. I already feel small and pathetic against her strength. 

“Wait, stop,” Caitlyn hurries to stop the woman. I peek up from my watery eyelashes, breathing heavily. 

“She’s lying,” I quietly laugh. The woman clenches her fist and walks up to me. She grabs a fistful of my jacket around my neck. I try clawing at her hands, but it was no use. She forces me to look at her. 

“Who are you?” She hisses again. A tear rolls down my cheeks. I would wipe it off, but my hand is wrapped around hers. I painfully smile again. 

“Her secret lover,” I choke out. I don’t have to keep it in anymore. The weight lifts off my shoulders. I had always wished the reveal was going to be for something better, nicer, and more beautiful. Yet we are here in the cold night air as I gasp for air. I take a peek at Caitlyn to see her face scrunch in guilt. The woman let go of me. I suck in a deep breath while sliding down to the ground. I grip my throat and tug the collar of my jacket away. I feel too suffocated by everything. 

I collect myself as much as I can before standing up again. I try to reach out and touch Caitlyn, but I pause and hesitate. My hands are shaking. I quickly bring it back to my chest to stop it from shaking so much. I lick my lips and look at her with pleading eyes. 

“I came to look for you,” I explain. 

“Why?” 

Why? 

“You were gone for more than a year! I was left wondering if you got hurt! I got worried,” I cry out. Caitlyn shifts her footing uncomfortably. She avoids my eyes by looking around. 

“Caitlyn…why are you being like this?” My voice cracks. The way she is treating me hurts so much. I don’t feel valued or special. As if… I’m just a nobody, just like how everyone else viewed me. I thought I was different to her. 

“Please talk to me!” I beg. A tear escaped from my eyes as I wept. I clench my chest to hold myself. She breathes heavily while her eyes dart around. She looks worried and guilty. 

“Was it because of her?” I direct it towards the woman, who scuffs in response. Caitlyn doesn’t reply. I take a step towards the woman, not understanding my actions. She clenches her jaw and rotates her wrist to get ready. Her eyes glisten against the street lights. Possession and challenge are evident on her face. I can tell she wants to fight me for Caitlyn. 

I am not backing down. I’ve trained hard for this. 

She swings her fist at me, but I dodge it. I launch my body to collapse her, but she wraps her arm around my waist. She elbows my back hard til I let go. She swings again and knocks the left side of my cheek. I stumble back and yelp in pain. I bring my hand up to cup my throbbing cheek. She is so quick and strong. With just one punch it sent me backward. I glare at her nervously. 

“Giving up so easily?” The woman laughs. I spit blood out my mouth and stand up again. She flickers her fingers to motion me forward. I swing my fist and she dodges, allowing her a clear shot at my stomach. I grunt and stumble back again. I gained my balance and I ran to her again, swinging recklessly. She punches my face near my nose. Pain shoots down my spine. I fall down and immediately grip my nose. Blood flows out and onto my hands. My chest moves up and down fast. I want to cry, but I choke it back when I look at Caitlyn. She stands with a worried look. She looks at me and the woman, pondering who she should care for more.

I need to prove I can be better. I need to show her I can protect her. I stumble to my feet, wiping my bloody nose with the back of my hand. 

The woman launches and lands a few punches on my face and stomach. I am gasping for air as I try to keep up. I try to swing to at least land one hit, but she easily dodges. Caitlyn watches me get beat up over and over. She looks away, clenching her eyes shut.

I failed her. 

I collapse onto the ground, choking out blood. Wheezing for air painfully. I knew I looked pitiful. Bruised, bloody, and crying. The woman looked untouched. I just embarrassed myself in front of Caitlyn. I try to get myself back up, but the pain pierces throughout my body. I stumble and fall again. I end up kneeling, my hands weak by my side. The woman tries to come to me again, but Caitlyn stops her by shoving her back. She begs her to stop hitting me. 

No, it shouldn’t have been this way. I needed to win to get her back. She can’t be the one begging for mercy. I had to be the winner. I can… 

I look down and watch my warm blood drip down onto the ground. Realization settles in my stubborn mind. 

I can’t protect her with these weak skills. I lost. 

Caitlyn's eyes shift and darken. She grips her fist and glares at me. She is angry that I am trying so hard to win her. That I allow myself to get beat up so badly knowing I can’t win- a fool so in love with her. I look up through my puffy and bloody eyes. I smile, feeling my lips crack open. 

“I’m sorry,” I wept. She forces herself to look away as tears roll down her face. Words continue to pour out from my lips. 

“I’m sorry I am not strong enough.

I’m sorry if… I ever embarrassed you.

I understand why you wanted us to be a secret… why you left and found someone who can protect you. 

I tried so hard to prove myself, but what’s the point anymore… I just simply can’t. 

People are right about me. They always were… and deep inside you knew it.” 

Tears continually roll down my cheeks. I could no longer fake a smile anymore. How can I put on a facade when I am evidently broken and weak? I bring my hands to my heart. An attempt to shield and comfort myself. My body shakes as I cry. I can’t blame her for hurting me. My understanding and naive heart is a curse made to ruin me. I loved too much and recklessly. It’s my fault.

Caitlyn brings a hand up to her mouth to silence her cries. She shakes her head. Millions of emotions crash in her mind, but she can't speak it out. It’s too late. She can not undo the mistakes she has made. 

The damage had already been made the moment she laid eyes on you. 

[sparsilees]

Harry is a clever and competent wizard

A recurring theme in fandom I find endlessly tiresome and disappointing is the portrayal of Harry as an academically struggling student who’s lamentably hopeless at Potions and middling in all other subjects aside from DADA, and who, alongside Ron, is in constant need of Hermione’s guidance. It’s present almost everywhere. It’s reinvented canon. And it’s shoved down new readers and non-fans’ throats alike. Please, there’s an HP wiki available for your perusal. Don’t go about consulting popular fics and the Hermione-biased movie director’s visions to draw your ideas of Harry and Ron’s psyche!

It’s doubly aggravating when this depiction is used to highlight Hermione, Draco, or so-and-so classmate’s magical Einstein-levels of genius and reinforce the false narrative that Harry’s singular claim to brilliance lies in Quidditch, and that he’s got nothing more than fluff and snitches between his ears on top of being oblivious to the point of idiocy. That apart from excelling in Defence, he doesn’t have much upstairs... (And even then a minority of the fandom portray DADA as akin to gym class where it’s all honing muscles, muscle memory, and reflexes, with Harry framed as an archetypical gymbro on top being a himbo. What?!)

So we’re just going to overlook his devastatingly biting wit and clever asides? Or brush aside how he repeatedly demonstrates his ability to perform well under pressure? His keen intuition and how he carefully retains seemingly insignificant, misfit puzzle pieces until the eureka moment strikes and he seamlessly integrates them into the bigger picture?

Take these two examples from Philosopher’s Stone with an intrepid tiny Harry:

Harry was quite sure the unsettled feeling didn’t have anything to do with work, though. He watched an owl flutter toward the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in its mouth. Hagrid was the only one who ever sent him letters. Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore. Hagrid would never tell anyone how to get past Fluffy . . . never . . . but — Harry suddenly jumped to his feet. “Where’re you going?” said Ron sleepily. “I’ve just thought of something,” said Harry. He had turned white. “We’ve got to go and see Hagrid, now.” “Why?” panted Hermione, hurrying to keep up. “Don’t you think it’s a bit odd,” said Harry, scrambling up the grassy slope, “that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it’s against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don’t you think? Why didn’t I see it before?”

Quirrell cursed under his breath. “I don’t understand . . . is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?” Harry’s mind was racing. What I want more than anything else in the world at the moment, he thought, is to find the Stone before Quirrell does. So if I look in the mirror, I should see myself finding it — which means I’ll see where it’s hidden! But how can I look without Quirrell realizing what I’m up to? He tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing, but the ropes around his ankles were too tight: he tripped and fell over. Quirrell ignored him. He was still talking to himself. “What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!” And to Harry’s horror, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself. “Use the boy . . . Use the boy . . .” Quirrell rounded on Harry. “Yes — Potter — come here.” He clapped his hands once, and the ropes binding Harry fell off. Harry got slowly to his feet. “Come here,” Quirrell repeated. “Look in the mirror and tell me what you see.” Harry walked toward him. I must lie, he thought desperately. I must look and lie about what I see, that’s all.

Bravery alone wasn’t enough to overcome his troubled upbringing with the Dursleys, or Quirrelmort, or Diary Tommy, or the final leg of the Horcrux hunt — it required a combination of mental agility, resourcefulness, and cunning to evaluate the situation, outsmart his opponents, and tip the odds in his favour. Harry needed to survive. To survive, he needed something other than mere guts. Harry’s ability to think on his feet and leverage his intelligence to gain the upper hand in challenging scenarios remains a testament to his brilliance and his remarkable presence of mind. He isn’t the foolhardy, impulsive Gryffindor who leaps into danger headlong without prior planning everytime.

(For that matter, Gryffindor are more than their “bravery” which has somehow been twisted into being synonymous with “reckless” — Sirius being a prime example of this, when in GOF he was urging Harry caution in their communications, despite the fandom conveniently only zeroing in on the depressed, cooped up version of him in OOTP, sigh. Bravery is fortitude, pluck, tenacity, strength of moral fibre, resilience, and heart as well.)

Some other less-mentioned examples of his quick mind: Harry wondering about Snape and Karkaroff being on a first-name basis; remembering Nicholas Flamel just from a long-ago glance, and again, Stan Shunpike despite their single encounter; Harry coaxing out Slughorn’s secret (no, it wasn’t all the Felix Felicis); Harry putting himself in Voldemort’s shoes, and Ron and Hermione deferring to his superior, albeit scary, knowledge; and Harry frightening Ollivander with his deductions about the wands. (It wasn’t solely Hermione’s brains that enabled their chances of survival in DH, let’s ditch that false narrative.)

The most laughably contrived bit in fanon is the unfounded notion that Hermione lets the boys cheat off her work to coast by in class. Fanon is wrong on both counts. Hermione would sooner report the boys for cheating than allow them to copy off her, and Harry isn’t anywhere close to scraping the bottom of the barrel in class, and neither is Ron. The handful of instances in canon where she looks over their assignments and helps correct mistakes isn’t cheating. Her input is akin to getting a second pair of eyes or a beta reader to ensure their work is up to snuff — heaven forbid a student help out a friend by suggesting some tips and tweaks. (Or attend tuition or retain a personal tutor or three.)

The ‘that’s why Harry isn’t a Ravenclaw’ jokes get pretty stale once you realise a large portion of the fandom genuinely think he isn’t a smart kid or has never read a book of his own volition/interest in his life. But Harry enjoyed reading his new books late into the night before starting Hogwarts (he found Hedwig’s name in A History of Magic, after all). Admittedly, studying is a feat in and of itself when you have zero access to books, but some cunning can turn around your luck!

Nevertheless, Sirius had been of some help to Harry, even if he couldn’t be with him. It was due to Sirius that Harry now had all his school things in his bedroom with him. The Dursleys had never allowed this before; their general wish of keeping Harry as miserable as possible, coupled with their fear of his powers, had led them to lock his school trunk in the cupboard under the stairs every summer prior to this. But their attitude had changed since they had found out that Harry had a dangerous murderer for a godfather — for Harry had conveniently forgotten to tell them that Sirius was innocent.

‘Oh, Potter can’t differentiate between a salamander and newt’s eyes.’

‘Asking him to skin shrivelfigs is a tall order since he can’t wield a dagger properly.’

‘He used shredded jobberknoll feathers when the recipe called for a fine powder. Poor Hermione will have to take over yet again to save his stupid arse.’

It’s these many variations and renditions of Harry’s alleged, often exaggerated, ineptitude in fandom content and making a monkey out of him, which I come across more often than not, that are an instant turn-off.

The widespread idea that Harry’s success in the subject can be attributed solely to the Prince’s book is misguided and further undermines his intelligence — and this jaundiced belief that’s crystallised itself as canon, of Harry and Ron putting on a double act as stupid slouches in class and therefore deserving of Snape’s derision and the Slytherin’s put-downs, is a far cry from the truth. Snape’s opinion of Harry’s intelligence or ability should be taken with a grain of salt, given that Harry has been described as a bright and talented child since his first year, by the Professors, Dumbledore, and the Sorting Hat. Even the resident megalomaniac described him as “not unintelligent”. You know what’s actually canon?

1) Snape’s biased approach towards Harry and Neville caused them to have an unwarranted fear of failure and reprimands. The Potions classroom was a hostile and unwelcoming learning environment for these two boys.

2) Harry is pretty confident when left to his own devices in class in OoTP before Snape flushed his effort down the gutter.

Exhibit 1:

Snape, meanwhile, seemed to have decided to act as though Harry were invisible. Harry was, of course, well used to this tactic, as it was one of Uncle Vernon’s favourites, and on the whole was grateful he had to suffer nothing worse. In fact, compared to what he usually had to endure from Snape in the way of taunts and snide remarks, he found the new approach something of an improvement and was pleased to find that when left well alone, he was able to concoct an Invigoration Draught quite easily. At the end of the lesson he scooped some of the potion into a flask, corked it, and took it up to Snape’s desk for marking, feeling that he might at last have scraped an E. He had just turned away when he heard a smashing noise; Malfoy gave a gleeful yell of laughter. Harry whipped around again. His potion sample lay in pieces on the floor, and Snape was watching him with a look of gloating pleasure. “Whoops,” he said softly. “Another zero, then, Potter . . .” Harry was too incensed to speak. He strode back to his cauldron, intending to fill another flask and force Snape to mark it, but saw to his horror that the rest of the contents had vanished. “I’m sorry!” said Hermione with her hands over her mouth. “I’m really sorry, Harry, I thought you’d finished, so I cleared up!”

Exhibit 2:

“After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me,” Snape went on. “I take only the very best into my N.E.W.T. Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying good-bye.” His eyes rested on Harry and his lip curled. Harry glared back, feeling a grim pleasure at the idea that he would be able to give up Potions after fifth year.

Exhibit 3:

Ron found it quite easy to ignore as they spent most of Saturday and Sunday studying for Potions on Monday, the exam to which Harry was looking forward least and which he was sure would be the one that would be the downfall of his ambitions to become an Auror. Sure enough, he found the written exam difficult, though he thought he might have got full marks on the question about Polyjuice Potion: He could describe its effects extremely accurately, having taken it illegally in his second year. The afternoon practical was not as dreadful as he had expected it to be. With Snape absent from the proceedings he found that he was much more relaxed than he usually was while making potions. Neville, who was sitting very near Harry, also looked happier than Harry had ever seen him during a Potions class. When Professor Marchbanks said, “Step away from your cauldrons, please, the examination is over,” Harry corked his sample flask feeling that he might not have achieved a good grade but that he had, with luck, avoided a fail.

Whereas in Ch 15 of OoTP, Snape had marked Harry’s essay on moonstones as Dreadful and claimed it to be a realistic expectation of OWL grading:

“I have awarded you the grades you would have received if you presented this work in your O.W.L.,” said Snape with a smirk, as he swept among them, passing back their homework. “This should give you a realistic idea of what to expect in your examination.” Snape reached the front of the class and turned to face them. “The general standard of this homework was abysmal. Most of you would have failed had this been your examination. I expect to see a great deal more effort for this week’s essay on the various varieties of venom antidotes, or I shall have to start handing out detentions to those dunces who get D’s.” He smirked as Malfoy sniggered and said in a carrying whisper, “Some people got D’s? Ha!”

And yet, Harry did very well on his OWLs before he even got a whiff of the Prince’s book.

Astronomy A

Care of Magical Creatures EE

Charms EE

Defense Against the Dark Arts O

Divination P

Herbology EE

History of Magic D

Potions EE

Transfiguration EE

Harry and Ron studied (!) both days of the weekend before Potions OWLs (!) without Hermione (!), and still Harry wasn’t sure he’d secure a good grade yet ended up scoring an EE. Exceeds Expectations, which y’know translates to: Surpasses Expectations, So Much Better than Expected, Rather Brilliant.

Unless you believe that anything less than the top percentiles is rubbish, Harry is not a ‘certifiable dunce’. There’s no denying he’s a competent and clever wizard and easily punches above his weight when he’s properly motivated and applies himself. Intelligence is a genetic trait, and Harry comes from nerdstock.

If he could achieve those grades whilst serving 7-hour torture sessions with Umbridge, suffering from Voldemort and Snape tearing into his mind, and putting up with the government slandering him in his second most important school year, running on fumes and sheer will (constantly disruspted sleep routine? Ugh!), then yeah, remove all those crutches, and he’d be raking in straight Os for most of those subjects. (It sort of sounds like ‘excuse our mental health and and anxiety’ for us if we perform poorly in exams, but not for Harry ‘he’s an idiot throwing teen tantrums’. Someone give me a hammer.)

“You’d need top grades for that,” said Professor McGonagall, extracting a small, dark leaflet from under the mass on her desk and opening it. “They ask for a minimum of five N.E.W.T.s, and nothing under ‘Exceeds Expectations’ grade, I see. Then you would be required to undergo a stringent series of character and aptitude tests at the Auror office. It’s a difficult career path, Potter; they only take the best. In fact, I don’t think anybody has been taken on in the last three years.”

Did he earn the grades? Yes. The Auror program ran aptitude tests, too, and only took the best, yes? Not because he’s a hothead with a daredevil streak and impulse issues, yes? Not because his dream was to be an Auror since his third year, or that he was only exceptional at fighting, or some such nonsense. After all, Barty Crouch Jr, he of the impeccable OWLs record, saw something worthy of Auror material in Harry and planted the seed in his mind. (Reminder: Barty also said Hermione should consider joining the Aurors too because her “mind works the right way”.)

And Moody thought he, Harry, ought to be an Auror! Interesting idea . . . but somehow, Harry thought, as he got quietly into his four-poster ten minutes later, the egg and the Cloak now safely back in his trunk, he thought he’d like to check how scarred the rest of them were before he chose it as a career.

If Harry was incapable of telling up from down in Potions, the Prince’s annotations would have been like casting pearls before swine. Worse still, Harry’s supposed lack of know-how would have caused more harm than good. The book only helped to refine the skills and knowledge he had cultivated over five years of study. Having a comfortable learning environment, an encouraging teacher, and superior instructions allowed Harry to maximise his potential and excel in class. (This phenomenon of underachiever-to-star pupil can happen in real life and is not unique to Harry. It happens with neurodivergent students with slightly different needs, students who require a more personal teaching style, and students stunted by an unhealthy learning environment. When their needs are met and supported, they tend to thrive and reach their potential.)

To put it into perspective, imagine taking an average kid whose expertise in cooking extends to making beans on toast and putting them in a professional kitchen. Imagine asking this kid to fillet a salmon and very finely slice lemons for garnish, tasks that require careful hands, finesse, and patience. If the kid can’t distinguish between a paring knife and a boning knife, they don’t stand half a chance. They’re liable to mess up the fish from the get-go. They might use a petty knife for everything and present a terribly executed dish; or they might cleverly choose a smaller knife but misuse it, not knowing that the flexibility and sharpness of a blade vary depending on their purpose, and end up seriously hurting themselves. Either way, filleting a fish is best left to seasoned home cooks and the pros.

In contrast, Harry is identical to a proficient home cook who knows the ropes but lacks some finesse and the fancy carving and plating skills of a trained culinary student. He has a firm grasp of the necessary theory and techniques and knows how to prep ingredients correctly, but may fumble the ideal application of said techniques, lacks an inborn zeal for the craft that lends to creativity, and overlook the finer details, particularly when he’s weighed down by fear of censure and humiliation. His level of success hinges on variables such as his confidence, familiarity with a recipe or method, and the type of environment he’s in. Talent is like a little seed; when nurtured, it will flourish.

Slughorn’s NEWT class was small, admitting twelve students out of a fortyish-student batch. No Gryffindor apart from the Golden Trio made the cut, and they were joined by the lone Hufflepuff, four Ravenclaws, and four Slytherins. Essentially, only a dozen students achieved an EE or O to qualify for NEWT Potions. Fanon will tell you most of the Slytherins have been tinkering with cauldrons in their diapers, but canon shows that only two other Slytherins, besides Draco and Blaise, made the grade. So, how are we still perpetuating this incorrect interpretation that Ron and Harry were barely keeping up academically when they’re more adept than half their year?

Harry and Ron aren’t academically inclined or driven by an obsessive urge to pore over books most hours of the day for fun, so what? Let them joke around and play chess and cards and broom race in the rain without bringing their brains and academics into the equation. Let Harry be a proper child/teen when he’s not busy hunting clues and crushing evil plots. Stop making the sum of HJP be “Powerful Himbo” or “Saviour Complex and Running on Luck”, which is pretty disrespectful towards a character who has shown himself to be so, so competent and well-rounded.

It’s such a huge thorn in my side that both Harry and Sirius (of all people, when he’s twinning with James as the insultingly effortless mavens during their time at Hogwarts!) habitually have their intelligence questioned and maliciously devaluated, or blown off entirely. So I had to sit and get this chaotically demonstrative commentary off my chest. Thank you, if you’ve read till the end!

[slut4thebroken]

Practice Makes Perfect

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | stepdad!Jackson Rippner x reader

Summary | You go to your stepdad for help… with very pure intentions… obviously. (Heheh)

Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, innocence kink, corruption, large age gap, but not under age, hand jobs, oral both m and f receiving, spanking, daddy kink technically, also incest I guess?, groping, thigh riding, praise, a sprinkle of degradation and humiliation.

Words | 7.5 k

Notes | I hope it was worth the wait folks. Also ionno how I feel about this gif but whatever lol

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

You liked making men crave what they could never have, that’s why you dress the way you do. But it seemed like the one man you actually wanted to crave you, never did. Much to your disappointment. 

But you liked doing it in a subtle way, where at first glance, it wouldn’t seem like your goal was to get his attention. You’d wear loose, frilly skirts, always on the shorter side, but not short enough to be too obvious, and tight crop tops that were somewhat see-through. You also liked wearing pretty dresses and knee high socks and dainty jewelry and soft makeup. All of which at first glance would just seem like a cute, unintentionally sexy— yet still in an innocent way somehow— outfit. 

Nothing you ever did caught his eye though. Sometimes you’d forego the bra all together so that your nipples were just barely poking through the thin fabric of your top, but you still didn't get a reaction. So you decided to step it up. 

“Mr. Rippner?” You asked quietly, making him look up from the computer screen as you hesitantly walked in. 

“How many times have I told you to call me Jackson.” He said teasingly.  

“Sorry…” You couldn’t help the blush that painted your cheeks when he gave you a soft smile. 

“What's up?” 

“I can come back later if you’re busy…”

“Never too busy for you. Come sit.” He clicked a few buttons on the computer then gave you his full attention. You dragged one of the arm chairs a little closer to his desk, then sat down. 

“I just… had a question— questions. But I’m scared to ask my mom.” You said quietly, nervously playing with the fabric of your skirt. 

“Scared?” 

“I don’t want her to see me any differently… and I’m scared that asking this might do that.” 

“You can talk to me.” His tone was so genuine that it made you want to tell him anything and everything about yourself, even your deepest secrets. His warm smile wasn’t helping much either. 

“Thank you… So, um— there’s this guy that I like..” He just barely stiffened when you said that. “He’s older,”

“How much older?” 

“A little more than twenty years…” 

“He’s in his forties?” 

“Early fourties, yes.” You said quietly, not able to maintain eye contact any longer. You couldn’t figure out what emotion was on his face right now. “But I really really like him, Mr. Rippner, and he treats me right.” 

“Any man going after you who’s that old will not treat you right.” 

“Oh…” You kept your eyes on your lap as your chest ached. Even though this wasn’t a direct rejection it still hurt. “Sorry.” 

“Hey— no, I'm sorry.” His tone was noticeably softer. “I just worry about you, kiddo.” Your whole face heated up at the name, as it always does. “I'm sorry. If you still want to talk, I'm here for you.” 

“Thanks…” When he didn’t say anything, you took that as your cue to continue. “I- I’ve been having.. bad thoughts about him, Mr. Rippner. And I know that it’s wrong, but I just can’t help it. I don’t even really know what he’s making me feel, just that it makes me feel dirty…” His cheek tensed as he clenched his jaw.  

“Inappropriate thoughts, you mean?” He clarified and you nodded in response. “I see. And before I respond, what exactly is it that you’re asking me?” 

“I- I want to impress him… but I’ve never done.. anything. I’m scared I’ll make a fool of myself, so I was hoping… you could help me?”

“Help you?” He choked out. You nodded and bit your lip. “Let me just make sure I’m hearing this right. You want to fuck a man twice your age,” you blushed at his crude words, “but you’re nervous about it… so you’re asking your step father, who’s also twice your age, to help you practice so you feel more confident?” 

“I’m sorry, this was stupid.” You muttered as you got to your feet. 

“Sit down.” His voice was technically still soft, but you could hear the underlying sternness in his tone, so you lowered yourself back down in the chair. “Why me?” 

“I just… I trust you a lot, Mr. Rippner— more than most. I know you’d never do anything to take advantage of me.” You said, even though you hoped he would. 

“And what about your mom?” That made you frown. 

“I didn’t mean it in a cheating way. Just for you to show me what to do— to teach me. That’s not cheating.” 

“Sweetheart…” He started, making your frown deepen. “You understand why this would be wrong other than that, right?” 

“…No.” You did. 

“Not even talking about the fact that I'm twice your age— I’m your step father. This is not something that step fathers teach their step daughters.” He explained gently. 

“Oh.. I guess you don’t have to, then. I can just… ask him to teach me or something.” 

“Absolutely not.” He said sternly, startling you. “Telling him that will practically give him the green light to manipulate and coerce you.” 

“He wouldn’t do that.” You frowned. 

“Yes he would. Every man would.” 

“Clearly not every man.” You muttered. 

“Look,” he sighed, “I do want to help you, kiddo, but it’s more complicated than that.” 

“It doesn’t have to be..” 

“But it is.” 

“Are you not attracted to me?” You asked suddenly. “Is that why?” He sighed again and looked away from you, making your stomach churn. “Oh.” You felt like you were about to cry any minute now— this is not going how it was supposed to at all. You felt stupid and embarrassed and you wished you never came in here. 

“I…” he sighed, “It's not that. I shouldn’t be attracted to you, honey. It’s wrong.”

“…But you are?” He said ‘shouldn’t’ so maybe that’s a good sign. 

“It’s doesn’t matter if I am,” 

“I’m attracted to you, Mr. Rippner.” You said quietly, waiting nervously for his reaction. “It doesn’t feel wrong.” He let out a heavy breath and closed his eyes as his head tilted back a little. You watched him carefully, trying to figure out what he was thinking. When he suddenly leaned back up and opened his eyes, they were significantly darker, the pretty, pale blue almost gone now. “Mr. Rippner?” You asked when he didn’t say anything. 

“I’m not going to show you, but I’ll tell you. How does that sound?” You frowned and looked away. 

“Okay… If you think that’s best, I trust you.” You said, silently praying for him to do more than talk to you. 

“Let’s just start off with you telling me what you do know.” 

“Um… Well, I’ve seen people kiss.. and I’ve tried to practice, but it feels awkward and I don’t want it to be weird when it happens.” 

“You never kissed anyone?” His eyebrows were raised as he stared at you in poorly concealed surprise. 

“…No.” You said, voice small. 

“Okay,” he cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, “okay. What else?” 

“I mean… I think I mostly know how the rest of it goes? The part where.. I don’t really do much. It’s the other parts that I don’t know.” 

“You mean foreplay?” You nodded with a blush. “And you know how to practice safe sex, right?” 

“A condom?” 

“That’s the most common way, yes.” He leaned back in his chair and let out a heavy breath. “Okay. I think I can help you out with some of it, but the rest you might just need to practice on your own. 

“But I have!” Your blush deepened when you realized what you just implied. 

“You have?”

“I- I mean.. I just— It…” Nothing you could say would save you. 

“Dirty girl… Do you have a toy hidden somewhere?” He said teasingly and you didn’t know how to respond, not when the real answer is so much more embarrassing and perverted. 

“Something like that..” He examined you carefully, making you feel like he was uncovering every secret you've ever had. 

“Oh I see.” He chuckled. “Creative little minx, aren’t you? What’d you use?” You looked down and bit your lip, feeling far too embarrassed right now. “Hairbrush handle? Cucumber?” 

“Stop teasing me, Mr. Rippner.” You pouted and he gave you a small smile.

“I’ll stop teasing once you stop calling me that.” When your gaze stayed on your lap, he continued. “Where'd you use it? Your mouth or your cunt?” Your head snapped up with a gasp at his vulgar language. 

“Mr. Rippner!” You scolded him, but your cheeks were far too red to uphold the sternness of your reprimand.

“It’s just a simple question, kiddo. You’re going to have to get used to those words if you want my help. I can’t really explain it without saying it.” 

“I- I know. It just caught me off guard is all and um… mouth.” You muttered, not able to maintain eye contact. “But I couldn't do it, it was too hard.” 

“What’d you try to do, sweetheart?”

“I dunno… just— anything that I thought might be right. I didn’t really know what to do.” You looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. “Need someone to teach me…” 

“You know that I can’t.” He said softly. 

“But how else am I supposed to learn? Why can’t you just help me?” You pouted, making him sigh. 

“I am helping you.” 

“But….” You were going to beg again, but so far that’s gotten you nowhere, so you decided to try something else. “Fine— I’ll just find someone else!” You said, standing up and turning around to walk out. 

“Sit down. I won’t tell you again.” He said sternly, making you freeze, but not turn around yet. 

“Mr. Rippner…” You finally turned back to face him, but you couldn’t look at him, “I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day,”

“You really don’t want me to tell you again.” He warned and for the first time, you felt a little afraid of him. It was flustered fear, but fear nonetheless. You slowly walked back over and sat down again. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to help you, but you’re not going to tell anyone. Especially your mother. Do you understand?” You couldn’t help the smile that creeped up on your face as you nodded. 

“Come here.” You got back up and walked around the desk, waiting awkwardly for the next instruction. “On your knees.” Your stomach fluttered and you could feel the ache between your legs that you usually get when you’re near him. Slowly lowering yourself to the ground, you placed your hands on your lap and looked up at him as he rolled his chair back and faced you. 

“Do whatever you think is right. I’ll stop you or tell you what to do if you need help.” Even though that made you nervous because there was a higher chance you’d embarrass yourself, you agreed. 

Shuffling forward, you settled between his legs and reached for his belt. The bulge in his pants was already making your mouth water and you pressed your thighs together without thinking. His breath hitched when you accidentally brushed his crotch, but he let you continue until his pants were open enough for you to pull them down a little and reach inside to take out his length. 

You gasped at the size of him and stared at it with wide eyes and slightly parted lips— how is this ever going to fit.. anywhere inside you when it barely fits in your hand? He brushed your hair out of your face and you swallowed thickly as you forced your eyes away from his length to look up at him. 

“Y-you’re… Are they all this big?” You asked nervously, making him chuckle quietly. 

“Not all, but I’m only a little above average.” 

“Oh.” So the average is only a little smaller? That didn’t ease your nerves at all. 

“Just take it slow, kiddo. Don’t rush into it, go at whatever pace you’re comfortable with.” You were struggling to get yourself to follow the soft demand because of how badly you wanted to impress him. “Start with your hand.” You nodded and swallowed down the lump in your throat as you reached for his length. Tentatively grasping it in your hand, you stroked him slowly, looking up at him for confirmation. “A little harder, love.” You squeezed harder, but immediately pulled back when he winced. 

“I’m sorry,” 

“That’s okay. Here,” he took your hand in his and wrapped it around his cock, moving it slowly. “Like this, okay?” When you nodded, he let go for you to continue on your own. You noticed that his limited reactions seemed to mostly happen when you were at the tip, so you focused on that, rubbing your thumb over the bead of clear liquid on top, making him curse under his breath. 

“You know what that is?” He asked, almost breathlessly. 

“…Precum?” You were terrified of embarrassing yourself by saying the wrong thing, but you vaguely remembered learning that somewhere. 

“That’s right.. good girl. Have a taste.” With a blush from the praise, you tentatively brought your hand up and sucked your thumb into your mouth. “Do you like it?”

“I think so. It’s… watery but a little sweet almost?” He laughed quietly and you gave him a small smile. 

“Keep going.” You started stroking him again, keeping the pace a little slow as you got used to it. “Do you want to try using your mouth now?” You looked up at him nervously, but nodded anyway. “Okay, just suck on the tip while you keep stroking it.” You shuffled forward even closer and placed your free hand on his thigh to steady yourself as you leaned up a little. When you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, he let out a shaky breath and put his hand on top of yours on his thigh. 

“Suck it and flick your tongue over it,” you obeyed and he let out a low moan, “there you go… Keep using your hand.” You hadn’t even realized you stopped stroking him until he mentioned it. 

“Atta girl. You’re a natural, kiddo.” You couldn’t help the whimper that slipped out at the praise, even if he was just teasing you. You continued stroking his length while mouthing at the tip, not sure what to do next. Thankfully he seemed ready to help you with that. 

“You want to draw it out a little so how about you practice kissing, hm?” You perked up at the thought of finally being able to kiss him, but almost pouted when you realized he didn’t mean on his lips. You gave the tip and quick kiss, then looked up at him, asking a silent question of what to do. “Kiss all over it, sweetheart.” You obeyed, working your way down the underside of his cock. “Good girl. Keep going down.” You were quickly reaching the base and you looked up at him in confusion. 

“You didn’t think you were just going to suck my cock, did you?” He chuckled, making you frown. You did think that… What else would you suck? “Start with kissing and licking my balls.” That made you pull back as your eyes widened. 

“Your— But… Is that,” 

“You’re not going to impress any man with a mediocre blow job. I’m trying to help you, baby.” You didn’t know that was a thing you had to do… and for some reason it felt dirtier than everything you’ve done so far. He picked up on your apprehension and his teasing smirk dropped into a more serious expression. 

“Hey, we don’t have to.” He said softly, genuinely. “The second you change your mind, we’re done, no questions asked. I can make you some hot chocolate and put on that movie you like and we don’t have to mention this ever again.” 

“I…” You swallowed the lump in your throat as your gaze shifted between his eyes and his cock. “Can we still do all of that after we do this?” You asked timidly, making the corners of his lips turn up into a small smile as he reached out to pet your hair. 

“Of course we can, kiddo. I’m pretty much done with work for the day so I’m all yours until it’s your bedtime.” You flushed at the mention of the silly rule he was so adamant about implementing. You told him that you’re an adult and adults don’t have bedtimes and he said that he just wants what’s best for you and that getting a good night's sleep is one of the best things you could do to take care of yourself. You didn’t protest again after that— mostly just because you liked the idea of him having that power over you. 

“Since it’s Friday… could we maybe.. extend my bedtime?” You asked coyly, staring up at him with wide pleading eyes. He raised his brows as he looked down at you for a moment before letting out a breathy laugh and looking away. 

“You’re getting too spoiled. I might as well start calling you princess.” He said with a sly smile, making you blush. 

“If I’m your princess, does that make you my daddy?” You asked innocently, making his breath catch in his throat, but he recovered quickly and decided to tease you a little. 

“Now where did you learn something like that?” Your blush intensified and you couldn’t maintain eye contact any longer. 

“Heard some classmates talking about it…” 

“Aren’t you a nosy little thing? But no kiddo, that doesn’t make me your daddy. I’m still just plain old stepdad Jackson.” He said with a small shrug. 

“But… if I want you to be?” You asked nervously. He let out a heavy breath that turned into a quiet chuckle. 

“If you want me to be… Then, we'll do a trial run tonight, how does that sound?”  

“Good. Thank you, daddy.” You decided to try it out immediately and it was strange how natural the word fell from your lips. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his cock twitch. 

“Okay, princess. You do a good job and I’ll reward you by pushing your bedtime back an hour.” That made your face light up, but you were feeling bold right now. 

“…Two?” 

“Thirty minutes?” He asked, in the same tone as you, making you pout and accept his original offer of one hour. “Pick up where you left off.” He spread his legs to give you more room to shuffle forward and lean your face close to his length, but instead of aiming for his cock, you went lower. You did as he instructed, kissing and licking them gently. It felt dirty and wrong doing this, but somehow, at the same time, like the most fulfilling thing you've ever done. 

“Now suck one into your mouth.” The second your lips wrapped around one, he cursed under his breath and let out a sigh of pleasure, but it quickly turned into a wince, making you pull back instantly. “Gotta be gentler, honey.” 

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” You rushed out, face flushing with shame, and he shushed you. 

“It’s okay. Just do it a little softer.” You hesitantly leaned forward to try once again, now much more apprehensive this time. “There you go…” He cooed, “Few more seconds, then do the same to the other one. Don’t forget to use your hand on my cock while you do this.” You blushed at the crude words but wrapped a hand around his length again to start pumping slowly before releasing him with a loud pop and moving to the other one. His sounds gave you confidence and you flicked your tongue as you sucked, then pulled back to keep licking and kissing while you stroked him. It was hard to multitask though with how overwhelmed you were getting from his scent and his hand holding yours on his thigh and just his closeness. 

You tried not to get too embarrassed when your spit kept building up until it was covering your lips and chin, making you feel even dirtier. But you realized that you like how it feels. You like feeling filthy as you make him feel good. 

You kept mouthing at his balls, occasionally sucking on them, and he placed his free hand on your head, stroking your hair. 

“Fuck… Look at you— Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” He asked teasingly, not giving you a chance to reply before speaking again. “There’s no way this mouth belongs to my innocent little girl.” You blushed, feeling shy at the compliment. 

“Daddy…” You whined against him, never stopping the movement of your hand or mouth. 

“It’s okay, kiddo. You just keep sucking on my balls and stroking my cock. Don’t need to do anything else.” You whimpered and squirmed at his feet, quickly growing uncomfortable with the weird feeling between your legs. 

“Daddy, it hurts.” You didn’t want to disobey him by stopping right after he told you to keep going, so you barely pulled back enough to get the words out. 

“What hurts?” You whined quietly and pressed your thighs together. His gaze traveled down your body curiously. “Your cunt?” You mewled and blushed at the vulgar word, but nodded in agreement. 

“You’re a proper whore, aren’t you?” He chuckled, making you frown and pull back. 

“No…” 

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, baby. If sucking balls is what gets you off, that’s nothing to be ashamed of.” 

“Stop making fun of me.” You pouted, making him smile. “And ‘m not a whore.” 

“Of course you’re not a whore, princess. You’re my whore.” Your entire face heated up and the ache between your legs got infinitely worse. “Isn’t that right?” You whined quietly and he chuckled. 

“Y-yes…” You whispered. “Yours.” 

“My what?” Your expression turned into a pout and you averted your gaze. “Hm?”

“Your— your whore.” You choked out as tears welled in your eyes from the humiliation of it all.  

“Good girl. Keep going.” 

“But,” He gave you a warning look so you ignored the fire in your belly and leaned back in. Your hand picked up again as you tried new things with your mouth on his balls, making sure to repeat the ones that drew any sounds from him. There was even more saliva now and you could feel some of it dripping down your neck to your chest.

“Go a little lower now.” 

“W-what?” You choked out, trying to pull back, but he used the hand on your head to hold you there. “Relax, kiddo. Just a little bit.” He explained, but you were still apprehensive. He pushed you down until your chin hit the chair then pulled you closer, burying your nose into his balls and holding you there. 

“Lick.” He demanded, but you weren’t sure what you were supposed to be licking. Since you weren’t able to question him, you just stuck your tongue out and moved it as best you could with how close he was holding you to his body. “There you fucking go.” He groaned, bucking his hips against your face. 

“So fuckin’ filthy.” He said through a breath. Despite the degrading words he used, his tone was full of admiration and pride. “Covered in your own spit as you lick my taint.” He chuckled, voice a little darker now. “Work your way back up slowly.” He lessened the pressure on your head and you gave one last lick before moving up to his balls, mouthing at them for a few seconds, then kissing up his length until you reached the tip. You pulled back and looked up at him, waiting for the next instruction eagerly. 

“…I’m on the fence about teaching you this.” You furrowed your brows in confusion. 

“What is it?”

“It’s not necessary for a good blow job, you can leave a guy plenty satisfied with what I’ve taught you so far, but this just makes it even better.” You wanted to make him feel even better so there wasn’t any doubt in your mind. 

“Please teach me?” You asked, even though you still weren’t really sure what he was talking about. 

“Are you sure?”

“Please, daddy.” You whined. 

“Okay, princess. Hands off.” You let go of his cock and placed your hand on his thigh. “Open.” Your mouth fell open and he adjusted so he was gripping your hair, then slowly lowered you onto him. 

“First I want you to show me how far down you can take it.” He kept his grip on your hair, but let you move freely. Slowly forcing yourself down, you looked up at him for a moment before taking a deep breath through your nose and closing your eyes to concentrate. This is what you’re not good at. You kept going down until he brushed the back of your mouth. When you tried to move down even more, you gagged and had to pull off. 

“Good girl. Almost halfway.” You all but beamed at the praise. “I’m going to try holding you there. Pinch my thigh if it’s too much, okay?” You nodded and he gave you a small smile. “Take a deep breath.” You inhaled and let your mouth fall open, waiting for him to guide you down onto his cock. He pushed your head slowly until he reached the back of your mouth, then held you still. You were fine for a few seconds as you breathed heavily through your nose and focused on suppressing your gag reflex, but once it started, you couldn’t stop it and you had to pinch his thigh. 

“That was good, kiddo. You’re already getting better. Just try to keep your mouth open wider so your teeth aren’t touching it, okay?” 

“Okay. Sorry…” You looked away, feeling embarrassed. You didn’t know how you were supposed to open your mouth any wider when your jaw was already starting to ache because of his size. 

“Don’t apologize. You’re learning, you’re bound to make a mistake or two.” He said, easing your nerves. 

“Can I try again?” 

“Whenever you’re ready.” You sank down on his cock voluntarily this time and took deep breaths through your nose as he held you there. You didn’t want to gag, but you could feel it coming anyway. When it happened, you squeezed his thighs to keep yourself from pinching him, wanting to hold out a little longer. He shushed you and used a hand to pet your head while the other held you down as your body instinctively tried to pull up. 

“Good girl. See if you can control it.” You squeezed your eyes shut with a strangled whimper and tried to breathe slowly. “That’s it… I'm going to pull you up a little so you can take a breath.” He lifted you only an inch or so up and you heaved in a shaky breath before he pushed you back down. You weren’t expecting him to actually only let you take a single breath, so you gagged again the second he hit the back of your mouth. This time though, you gagged hard enough to make you feel like you could throw up if it happened just one more time so you pinched him and he pulled you off. 

A string of saliva connected your lips to his cock and you panted heavily, trying to catch your breath and push down the nausea. 

“I’m so proud of you, kiddo. You’re doing amazing.” It didn’t feel like you were doing amazing, but you blushed at the compliment anyway. 

“Thank you.” You rasped, giving him a small smile. He cupped your cheek, rubbing the saliva on your lips around a little as he returned the expression. 

“Keep this up and I might consider pushing your bedtime back two hours instead.” Your face lit up at that and he laughed under his breath. 

“Really?” 

“You deserve it.” You smiled and his thumb swiped over your lips again, so you took it into your mouth and sucked lightly. “Christ— You’re going to kill me, baby.” He groaned, making you blush. “Do you think you can try something a little harder now?” 

“I think so.” You said quietly, after reluctantly pulling away from his thumb to speak. 

“I’m going to push you down farther, okay? You’ll probably gag, but I know you can take it.” He pushed your hair out of your face and gave you a reassuring smile. You nodded and moved closer to his length, taking a deep breath and waiting for him to push you down. He did it slowly and stopped once he reached the back of your mouth. Placing both hands on the back of your head, he applied more pressure, but did it quickly. You gagged instantly, but it cut off into a garbled whimper when he breached your throat barrier and pushed you all the way down until your nose was buried in his pelvis and your chin was resting on his balls. 

“Fuck— good fucking girl.” He said through a moan. You tried to stay there despite the intense need to gag, but it was quickly becoming too much. “You feel incredible, baby.” You squeezed your eyes shut, hearing him curse under his breath as you choked. When you couldn’t take it anymore, you pinched his thigh and he hesitated for a second before letting you pull off. He stroked your hair as you coughed and tried to catch your breath. You looked up at him through teary eyes and his other hand moved to cup your cheek and brush his thumb over your lips that were slick with even more saliva now. 

“How you holding up?” He asked softly and you cleared your throat before responding. 

“Good I think..” 

“Do you want to stop?” Kind of… but at the same time you wanted more. More of this— more of him. 

“No- no… I want to keep going.”

“Don’t just say that because you think it’s what I want to hear,”

“‘m not. Wanna keep going.” You whined. 

“Do you want to keep doing this or go back to what you were doing before?” He seemed to like this the most and you wanted to practice so you could get better for him. So even though your throat was already sore, you said yes. 

“This.” 

“Okay, baby. Whenever you’re ready.” You cleared your throat again and tried to even out your breathing before wrapping your lips around the tip again, waiting for him to push you back down. He moved you slowly until he reached the back of your mouth and you braced yourself for what was about to happen. 

Even though you were anticipating it, you still gagged when he applied more pressure, and then choked when he finally entered your throat. You were coughing and sputtering around him, each time forcing more spit out of your mouth, making your face heat up when you felt more of it roll down your neck to your chest. 

“That’s it… Good girl.” The moan that escaped you because of his praise sounded more like a garbled, incoherent sound rather than anything else. “Fuck— I’m gonna come, baby.” He groaned, making your stomach flutter. 

You wanted nothing more than to pull off so you could breathe and cough, but you wanted to let him finish. So you squeezed his thighs hard enough to make him wince and his hips flinched up, burying his cock even deeper. 

“When I pull out, keep your mouth open.” He rushed out and you could only make a strangled sound in return. His hips were rutting up into your mouth now as he kept a tight grip on your head, not letting you move when your body reflexively tried to pull away. He cursed under his breath, then let out a loud groan, and you felt heat in your throat until he pulled out. You coughed, but tried to keep your mouth open as he stroked his cock in front of you, making more come land on your tongue and around your lips. When his sounds quieted and his hand slowed to a stop, he stared down at you as he panted. 

“Swallow.” He demanded softly. You reluctantly closed your mouth and swallowed, then he swiped up the come that landed on your face and put it on your tongue for you to swallow as well. 

You tried not to let it show in your expression, but you weren’t expecting it to taste like that at all and it caught you off guard. Especially because you were expecting more of the sweet taste that the precum had. 

“Everyone tastes like that?” You asked quietly, making him chuckle. 

“I wouldn’t really know, sweetheart, but I would assume so.” He wiped your tears and the spit from your chin and your stomach fluttered again at the soft, simple action. “You did such a good job. I’m so proud, kiddo.” Your whole face flushed at the compliment, but you didn’t understand why he said it since it didn’t seem like you improved much. 

“Thank you..” You said anyway, making the corners of his lips turn up into a small smile. 

“Get up here, princess.” You immediately got giddy at the thought of being so close to him and you eagerly climbed onto the chair and straddled his legs, putting your hands on his shoulders. He rubbed up and down your thighs slowly, teasing you. 

“Do you think you’ve learned enough?” You tried not to frown at the thought of this ending so soon. 

“No…” You muttered, looking down. 

“No? What else can I teach you, baby?” He chuckled. You knew his question was rhetorical, but you answered anyway. 

“I- I don’t know how to… touch myself.” You said with a blush and his eyes widened a little. 

“You don’t touch yourself?” He asked through a breath, almost completely frozen. 

“I’ve tried… I just end up feeling awkward and dumb so I stop. But I need you, daddy, it hurts. Make it go away.” You whined, giving him puppy dog eyes and a frown. He cursed under his breath and closed his eyes for a moment, his grip tightening on your thighs. 

“Fuck— fuck, okay. I’ll teach you, but after that, no more.” 

“Okay.” You agreed, even though you knew you were going to be begging him to keep going when he decided to stop. He took a deep breath and you waited anxiously for him to do something. 

“You have to start slow, build up to it. Women are different from men, they need more than we do to get started.” His hands dragged up your thighs— over your skirt— to your hips, then up your waist, and sadly back down again. 

“Don’t wanna start slow.” You whined, squirming in his lap. 

“You told me to teach you and that’s what I’m doing, princess.” You huffed and looked away from him with a pout. When he suddenly grabbed your cheeks in one hand, then turned you back to face him and pulled you closer, your breath caught in your throat. 

“I don’t want any attitude from you when I’m the one doing you a favor.” He said lowly, but you were distracted by his breath fanning your lips and his grip on your face. “I control how fast or slow we go. Do you understand?” There was that fear again, only this time you subconsciously tried to grind against him. 

“Y-yes.” You whispered, staring at him with wide eyes, getting needier and needier. “Please,” You whined, squirming again, but stopping when his hand moved down to your throat. 

“What did I just say?” He gritted. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry— But I can’t take this anymore, it’s torture!” You cried. He stared at you with a dark look that made you nervous and you waited anxiously for what was next. 

“Fine. Up.”

“Daddy…” You whined, but it cut off then he roughly grabbed your hips and lifted you to your feet. He didn’t even give you a demand before pulling you forward by your hips so that your legs were on either side of one of his. You gasped when he pulled you down and reached for his shoulders to steady yourself. “Grind on my thigh.” 

“W-what?” You choked out, eyes widening even more. 

“If you want to act like a bitch in heat, that’s how you’ll be treated. Hump my fucking thigh or we’re done for tonight.” He menaced, making your whole face heat up. You’ve never heard such degrading words before, especially not aimed at you, and even though you were probably supposed to be upset that he basically just called you a dog… you started moving your hips anyway. 

“You need to learn,” he landed a hard smack on your ass, making you cry out and tighten your grip on his shoulders, “when to fucking listen.” Another spank, this time on your other cheek. “I didn’t have to let you suck my cock, but I did…” When he hit you again, you felt tears brimming in your eyes. “I didn’t have to teach you how to deep throat,” you let out a choked sob when he hit you again, the hardest so far, “but I did.” He growled, spanking you twice in quick succession. 

“I’m sorry!” You cried, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Look at the fucking mess you’re making.” He roughly fisted your hair and forced your head down so you could see the damp spot on his pants where you were grinding. You whined, getting so overwhelmed with the feeling between your legs and his words and his hands and just him. 

“Get the fuck up.” He suddenly said, making your heart drop. Was he going to leave you like this? All needy and achy?

“Daddy, ‘m sorry.” You whimpered, staring at him with puppy dogs eyes and a pout. In response, he just lifted you off of him by your hips and stood up. You protested with a whine, but it cut off when he pushed you in front of the desk and roughly forced your chest down on it. You tried lifting yourself up, but he just placed a firm hand between your shoulder blades and forced you back down. 

“Stay.” He growled, making you stiffen. He flipped your skirt up and you squirmed with a low whine. “No shorts?” He spanked you again and you quickly scrambled for purchase on the desk. When he roughly groped your ass, you let out a quiet moan and squeezed your thighs together, but he kicked your legs apart, not letting you have any relief. 

“Daddy…” You whined, but it cut off into a yelp when he spanked you again. He roughly cupped your sex and you mewled in response as you pushed your hips back. 

“Such a needy fucking pussy for a virgin.” He gruffed, making you blush, but it only intensified when he pulled your panties to the side. 

“Fuck…” He muttered, then dragged a finger through your slit, spreading your arousal. “Fuck!” You jumped at the sudden increase in volume. Was he mad? He sounded like he was quickly losing his composure and you weren’t exactly sure why or how you could help him. 

“Daddy?” 

“Shut up.” He hissed, roughly gripping your underwear and pulling until he ripped it off of you. “Just shut the fuck up.” 

“Mmph!” He shoved your panties in your mouth before you could even register what was happening. He ignored you and roughly groped your ass again, pulling you apart to spread your holes and cursing under his breath. When wetness and heat replaced the chilly air on your clit, your hips flinched back toward the pleasure as a surprise moan escaped you. 

He licked over you slowly, still having a firm grip on your ass to keep you spread open. Moving up to your hole, he licked and sucked, making a loud, vulgar slurping sound that had you whining from embarrassment. 

You whimpered, hiding your burning face in your arms. He lapped up your arousal for a while before going back down to your clit and sucking it into his mouth. You choked on a whimper at the sudden, intense pleasure, making him chuckle against you. 

Your knees shook and you moved your hands to grip the desk, trying to ground yourself, but it was just so fucking intense. Eventually, your legs got too weak to hold you up and all of your weight was resting on the desk with the hard wood digging into your hip bones painfully. 

You whimpered, feeling your stomach tighten with arousal even more, but let out an anguished sob when he suddenly pulled back. Your head was spinning with how fast he lifted you off of the desk and sat you down on his chair, removing the makeshift gag.

He pulled your hips to the edge and dove back in eagerly. Your hands landed in his hair as you rocked your hips against his face, moaning and whining at the new feeling— you could already tell you were getting addicted. Moving down to your hole, he lapped up your arousal and rubbed his thumb over your clit, making your stomach feel even tighter.  

“If you let that… that fucking pervert anywhere near you I swear to god you won’t be able to sit for a fucking week.” He growled and you moaned at his words as well as the sudden possessiveness in his tone. “This pussy is mine. Do you understand?” You mewled and tugged his hair, trying to pull his mouth back on you, but he was stronger. 

“Y-yes. Yours, daddy.” You whined, tugging harder. “Please!” You cried, when he still wouldn’t give in. “It’s yours, daddy! I’m all yours.” You sobbed out, grinding your hips in hopes of getting the stimulation back. 

“Pull your shirt up.” He gruffed, only leaning back down after you obeyed. His mouth took over his thumb again and he reached up to grope your breast as he sucked on your clit in an almost feral manner. “Who’s tits are these?” He mumbled against you, starting to toy with your nipple now. 

“Yours.” 

“Who’s allowed to see them?” He switched hands, giving your other nipple the same treatment. 

“Only you.” You said through a breath, feeling the coil in your stomach get impossibly tighter. 

“Who’s allowed to touch them?” 

“Only you, daddy. Please!” He didn’t respond, he just worked harder and faster on your clit until you fell over the edge. You sobbed out a moan and pulled on his hair hard enough to make him hiss in pain. But that was overshadowed by the feeling flooding your entire body, making you tremble and writhe as you rutted against his face. You weren’t lying when you said you don’t touch yourself, but now that you know what an orgasm feels like? You might start trying honestly. 

Once your body sagged into the chair and your sounds died down, he pulled back, his lips and chin glistening. You were panting, still trying to calm down even though you were practically dizzy with pleasure. You felt warm hands running up and down your thighs, soothing you, and you gave him a dopey smile as your eyes fluttered open to look down at him. 

“You’ve got quite the grip on you, kiddo.” He chuckled, making you blush and loosen your hands in his hair. 

“Sorry.” You said sheepishly, trying to rub his scalp a little to soothe the ache he must be feeling from you pulling so hard. 

“You okay?” He asked and you nodded wordlessly. “I… I didn’t mean to get so harsh. I just worry.” 

“I know, it’s okay. I won’t go near him.” It felt like you were hit with a wave of exhaustion all of a sudden. Is that what orgasms do? Make you sleepy?

“Good girl. You tired?” When you nodded, he chuckled quietly. “Let’s get you cleaned up really quick. Wait here.” As if you could stand on your wobbly legs. You thought with an internal scoff. He left the room and returned with a damp washcloth a minute later. He started with your face, gently wiping the mascara from under your eyes and the dried spit around your mouth, trailing down your chest. Once that was cleaned up, he went even lower. You jolted when the cloth brushed over your folds. 

“I’ll be quick.” He said, trying to soothe you. He wiped the area gently and you couldn’t help the quiet moan that slipped out when he brushed your clit. “None of that.” He reprimanded you softly and with a smile. When he finished, he pulled your top back down and fixed your skirt. 

“Do you still want that hot chocolate and movie?” You nodded with a lazy smile and he chuckled before picking you up and carrying you to the living room. He set you down on the couch gently and laid a blanket over you, then kissed the top of your head. As he was walking to the kitchen, your brain was already starting to come up with new ways to get this to happen again. You still have so much to learn, after all. 

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