#and I think the best part was watching our professor

[sleepydrabbles]

I’m in a class that’s supposed to be using the dialectic method to explore the philosophies around Japanese aesthetics and today in order to introduce us to the dialectic method the professor led a discussion for the entire class period that was split between two questions: what is art, and what is beauty?

That’s not even the wildest part. He sat back and enjoyed the chaos and basically made sure everyone was being heard because leading a 30- person discussion is hard as hell. I think he barely spoke a total of five minutes. He was a master of redirecting us to each other. I have so much respect for him and it’s only the second class.

But no, the funniest part was when, with ten minutes to go until the bell, someone finally brought up the elephant in the room: ai generated images.

half the class’s hands went up, we went around the room almost twice, and then we were quite literally dismissed by the bell without reaching any kind of agreement. My professor was half in stitches and tbh, so was I.

Ten minutes to get thirty opinions on ai images. What a moment.

[coldfanbou]

New Hunger

I think Hanni's got an addictive personality in this fic. Let's see what happens. I'd like to thank @i-am-lifeform24 for the idea. maybe I make part 2 idk

Length: 2.6K

Hanni X Mreader

Hanni stared in disbelief at the bright red marking on her paper, “C.” Her heart dropped, and as soon as class was over, she went straight to her professor. “Miss Park! Why did I get a C on my assignment?” 

The older woman turned to Hanni, her mind returning to Hanni’s paper. “If I recall correctly…” Miss Park taps her cheek, considering how to phrase her answer, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She tells Hanni bluntly. “Hanni, be honest with me; you haven’t had sex before, right?”

“I-well, I…no.” She hangs her head, feeling embarrassed.

Miss Park takes a long breath and places her hand on Hanni’s shoulder. “Hanni, you understand how the body works, but you don’t understand the emotions behind it. My class is just as much about what our bodies do and how they interact as the emotions and sensations behind them. My suggestion to you is to have sex with someone. It will open your eyes to what I’m trying to teach, and if you want to, you can revise your paper and turn it in after our midterm.” Miss Park pats Hanni’s shoulder and smiles at the younger woman. “Sex is a great part of our lives, and you’re young. You should see what you’re missing out on. Find someone you trust.” She says before turning around and leaving Hanni in the classroom.

There’s a pit in Hanni’s stomach as she considers her professor’s words. “Is there really something I’m missing?” She asks herself before walking outside. She didn’t think there was anything she was missing out on. She looked at her paper again, the red C mocking her. Hanni considered who she should talk to when she remembered you were visiting the campus. She pulled out her phone and dialed your number, her heart beating quickly as the first and second rings passed. 

“Hello?”

“Hey! I know you’re visiting my campus. Are you busy?”

“No, not really. I found the esports club, and I’m in their club room if you want to come and find me.”

“Just meet me in the center quad.” She shouts, her annoyed tone coming through clearly.

“Sheesh, alright, ms. pushy.” You say before hanging up and leaving for the quad. You find Hanni waiting for you on one of the benches. When she spots you, she stands up and rushes over. “Hey, how have you been?” She says, all smiles.

You squint at her, “What do you want?” Hanni chuckled, “Hanni, I already know you want something. Out with it.”

Hanni purses her lips and digs the toe of her shoe into the ground. “It’s not something I can say out here; let’s go to my place,” Hanni says, taking your hand momentarily before letting it go out of nervousness. You try to make conversation with Hanni, but your efforts are in vain as she stays quiet throughout your walk to her room.

“Is something wrong?” you finally ask her. Hanni gives you a simple nod and looks through her bag, pulling out a key. 

“We’re here.” She says quietly, unlocking the door and heading inside. She shuts the door behind you and walks to her bed. Hanni’s space was small, with a little kitchen area by the entrance before you were immediately in her bedroom. You watch Hanni take a deep breath. “Okay, so this is what I need from you.” Hanni pauses and turns around, staring into your eyes, the brief silence deafening you both. As more seconds ticked by without a word, Hanni grew increasingly nervous before eventually blurting out what she needed to say.  “I need to have sex with you.” 

“You what?” You ask, your voice cracking as you wonder if you heard her right. 

“Please?” Hanni says, clasping her hands together. “I really need to pass a class, and you know I do my best work when I can get hands-on experience.” The desperation in her voice continues to rise. “Just once, that’s all I need, and we never have to do it again.”

You rub your temples, annoyed that you’re contemplating her wishes. “Okay, so this is for a class? How badly do you need to pass this class? A better question: why do you need to have sex?”

“Because my professor said I didn’t understand what she was trying to teach me, and I need to have it so I know better. I need this super badly. I held off on this class because I thought it would be easy and I could use it my last semester. My grades are perfect otherwise; I just need this. So, please?” Hanni grips your shirt, shaking it. “You’re the only one I trust.”

“Fuck, fine, I’ll help you out,” you tell her, not looking forward to being with her. “I can turn in my midterm before you have to finish yours, so let me finish what I have to, then we can meet.” 

Hanni wraps her arms around you, hugging you tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She repeats, crying into your chest.

“C’mon Hanni, stop crying, you’re ruining my shirt.” You whine as she holds onto you, rubbing her head into your chest. You crane your neck back and sigh, knowing there is nothing you can do until Hanni decides to let you go. Eventually, Hanni lets go of you and changes the topic of conversation, steering you toward what things have been like since you went your separate ways after high school. You wonder if this was really the time to have this conversation before you both settle into a routine. 

When you were about to leave, Hanni grabbed your shirt and pulled it back. “Hey, um, is this going to be your first time too?” 

“Yeah, it is. It’ll be the first time for both of us, so you better study up.” You tell her as you begin walking out. “I’ll text you the details when I finish my midterms. Don’t forget to respond so we can find a time that works.”

“Yeah,” Hanni sits in her room, feeling a little better about still not having sex yet. She lays back in her bed, considering what studying up would be. She pulls up her phone, her fingers tapping away at the screen, stopping herself just before clicking enter. Hanni’s cheeks turned red as she pressed enter; it was going to be her first time watching porn. The homepage showed her more than she expected: dozens of dirty titles and screenshots. The sight did turn her on, though; Hanni felt her body tingle when she looked at a woman in the throes of pleasure. At that moment, something clicked inside Hanni. Hanni tapped on the search bar, though, looking up “How to have sex.” and clicking on the first video. Hanni immersed herself in the video, taking in every bit of information the woman on the screen provided. One video turned into two, then three. The next thing Hanni knew, she was lying on her bed naked, her sheets soaked.

Hanni couldn’t wait to talk to Miss Park the next time she had class. She sat in her seat, rubbing her legs together the entire time. When class was over, she rushed to Miss Park. “Oh, Hanni, just the girl I wanted to see.” Miss Park said with a smile. “I got a few things for you,” she said, pulling out a bag. “After our last talk, I thought it would be good to help you on your little journey.” Miss Park smiles at Hanni as she hands over the bag. “I hope you enjoy them; now I’ve got to go. I look forward to your improvements.” 

Hanni opened her mouth to say something, but Miss Park was out the door before she could. Hanni looked into the bag, reaching in and pulling out a box. She immediately dropped it back in after seeing it was a dildo. Hanni looks at the door before looking back into the gift bag.  She wrapped the string around her hand, ensuring no one could look inside. She rushed to her dorm and sat on her bed, pulling out the toy and looking through the rest of the bag. It had lube and other toys. Hanni opened one of the boxes, pulling out the dildo. She placed it on her lap as she put the box to the side. Grabbing it by the shaft, Hanni couldn’t help but feel nervous. She stared at it, contemplating what she should do next. The toy taunted Hanni, pushing her to act on her feelings. 

She rejected it, putting away the toy and hiding everything inside her bag. Hanni took a deep breath, sitting on the edge of her bed, her mind filling with thoughts of the toys. She began to touch herself, feeling her lower half get wet the longer she thought about the toys. It was all she could think about that night until she got your message. “I’m done with my midterm. When did you want to meet up?”

“Tomorrow.” She texted back. Hanni’s night was spent finalizing the few details of her rendezvous. 

Two days passed before you were finally able to meet with Hanni. She was losing control of herself as time got closer. She spent her time watching porn and playing with herself. The thought of the toys was in the back of her mind until she felt that her fingers weren’t enough anymore. She went into the bag, pulling out the dildo and the lube. In her haze, Hanni poured too much lube onto the dildo. She ran her hand along the shaft, trying to coat it evenly. She laid back, raising her hips as one of the videos she had watched said to, and pushed the dildo against her folds, moving inside herself slowly. A low guttural moan slowly filled the room as Hanni felt the dildo fill her cunt, her body stretching slightly around it. She was desperate for more; the pleasure she felt was like nothing else. She sped up the process, ramming the rest of the dildo inside herself and cumming. Hanni’s body tensed, her back arching and toes curling before the tension suddenly released, and a wave of euphoric pleasure washed over her. She lay in bed for a moment, her chest heaving as she recovered from her climax. Her body continued to get hotter, though, craving more. In time she was fucking herself crazy, pushing every in of the dildo inside her before eventually switching to the vibrator. Hanni turned herself onto her stomach and raised her hips as she slid the toy in and out of her cunt. Her dripping sex wanted more.

You knocked on her door, waiting for her to open it, when you heard, “It’s open!” You step inside the room, your senses bombarded by the sight and sound of Hanni. Her ass is raised toward you as she moves the toy deeper into her cunt. 

 “What took you so long? I need you,” she whispers. You’d never seen her act like this in all your years of knowing Hanni.” Hanni turns herself over and spreads her legs for you; her breathing is heavy as she tries to speak. “C’mon, take your clothes off so we can get started.” You pause and look around the room, noticing the used toy laid out and the bottle of lube. You put together what happened quickly after reading the label. The lube was laced with aphrodisiacs, and Hanni must’ve used it without noticing. 

Hanni grew impatient as you were figuring out what was happening. She got off the bed, wrapped her arms around your neck, and pulled you into a kiss. Her warm lips melted into yours as she ran her hand to your bulge. You give in to Hanni, stripping down and pushing her onto the bed. Hanni keeps her hands around your cock. They were slick and slid up and down your shaft quickly, making you groan her name. Hanni grinned, hearing you call her name. “Feels good, right?” She said with a giggle. “I don’t think that I can wait thought,” Hanni pointed your cock toward her entrance and rubbed the tip against her folds. “Hmm, it feels different.” She placed your cock between her lips and held her legs apart, “I want you to do it. Fuck me.” Hanni felt dirty uttering those words to you, but it was what she truly wanted. 

You push inside Hanni, her warm insides snuggly holding your cock as you push deeper into her. Hanni’s light moans filled the room as she felt your cock move inside her. It felt different than when she used a toy; it was much better. She never wanted you to pull out and wrap her legs around your waist. “So deep,” Hanni mumbles as you begin thrusting into her. You grip Hanni’s waist thrusting wildly as you enjoy your first pussy. Hanni’s walls clamp down on your cock when you’re deeper inside her, giving you the motivation to try and go as deep as possible. You press your lips against hers as your hands dig into her skin.

“I didn’t know you were such a slut,” You groan, not knowing what you were saying, both your mind and Hanni being lost in a haze of pleasure. Hanni’s moans grow louder as she listens to your degrading comment. For a reason, she didn’t know, it turned her on. 

“I’m a big slut,” she whimpered, egging you on to say more things about her. You degrade Hanni further, mentioning how she clung to you like a fleshlight or how she moaned. Every comment earned you louder moans. It wasn’t long before you came inside her, but neither one of you was done yet. You pulled out of Hanni and flipped her over, placing one hand on her shoulder and wrapping her long hair around the other. You tugged on the hair as you slammed yourself back inside her cunt. “Yes!” Hanni screamed, loving the treatment you gave her. Hanni felt alive, understanding what Miss Park meant by emotions and sensations. You tugged on her hair, and Hanni tightened around your cock; she was getting close to her orgasm. You press harder and drive your cock into Hanni, struggling to hold your own climax. Close to your orgasm, your grip on Hanni’s shoulder tightens. You bury yourself inside Hanni, cumming inside her. Hanni melts as she feels your cock throb and your semen pour into her. She cums on you, and her body goes limp. She crashes onto her bed, and you fall on her, trapping her. Hanni moans softly, focusing on the warm feeling inside her and the throbbing of your cock. 

You roll off Hanni and pull out. The empty feeling she has after leaves her wanting more. Now, knowing what sex was like, Hanni was craving it; the tingling sensation that coursed through her body was addicting. She straddled you and slipped your cock back inside. “Let’s go again,” she whispered. You and Hanni continued for two more rounds before your bodies gave out on you. You left early in the morning, a little sore from your fun with Hanni.

Hanni strolled into class the next day, a new energy blossoming within her. Miss Park noticed and, before class started, sat beside Hanni. “Looks like someone had finally got some experience. Was it good?” Hanni gave Miss Park a nod and smiled at her. “You know, if you ever want to explore some more, I’d be willing to help you.” Miss Park placed her hands on Hanni’s thigh, giving it a slight squeeze. “I wouldn’t mind playing with you a little at one of my parties.” She whispered into Hanni’s ear. 

Hanni smiled at her and nodded. “I’d like that, Miss Park.”

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Quid Pro Quo | Michael Gavey x fem!reader

Summary: After being ditched by her friend at the Trinity College Christmas Party, she finds herself enthralled with learning the language of Michael Gavey | Word Count: 3.8k~ | Warnings below the cut!

Part Two: Carpe Diem Part Three: Veni, Vidi, Vici

warnings: virgin michael, semi-public sexual conduct, oral sex (m receiving), heavy petting

If she has to listen to Professor Wardon swoon over Ancient Greek and how it ‘drove him to pursue his dreams in extending his passion to other students’, she thinks she might actually fall asleep.

She's in a good spot to do so, nestled between two other students, the one on her right seemingly just as bored as her, and conveniently hidden behind a tall, lanky first year, who sits straight, with his head perfectly obscuring hers as he fixes his posture regularly.

Several times throughout, she's checked her watch, and yet the second hand never seems to move an inch.

Professor Wardon is just about to go on a lovesick spiel about Homeric Greek when the lecture concludes with a heaved sigh from every student as they sling their hefty bags over their shoulders.

“Remember I want 2,500 words on Les Liaisons dangereuses in my pigeon hole by next Thursday, before your Christmas parties!” 

“Oh joy,” she sighs with a grin to the girl walking shoulder to shoulder beside her as they leave, feeling noticeably lighter knowing that that's their last lecture before Christmas break.

“Christ, you're telling me. I can't be arsed to even right my own name at the moment, nevermind read 18th century fucking French.”

She gives a snort in reply, “Merry Christmas to us, eh? Should do what the French do and have a revolution or something.”

“Yeah, eat our lecturers or something.”

“Alright, I wouldn't go that far.”

“Anyway, I'm off to T Library, see ya, have a good Christmas and don't do anything I wouldn't!”

She waves her off as her friend disappears, the cold air of the outside nipping at her skin that manages to sneak beneath her coat.

Oxford University is not what she imagined at all. She came here very much feeling like an outsider, like there'd been some sort of paperwork mistake and it was supposed to be someone else in her place. 

The imposter syndrome seemed difficult to shift, but she'd at least managed to make a couple of friends since starting in September.

Languages had always found her well, and seemingly the only thing she managed to actually understand. People were inconsistent, cruel and fickle. Languages, though they shifted and changed, were firmly rooted in reason and understanding. 

As sad as it sounded, conjugating verbs, vowel shifts and rare dialects were the one thing she found herself itching to discover more about. The idea that there was more to uncover seemed exciting and scary at the same time.

And Oxford University was the best place she could be to do that.

All that said, her eagerness to get involved with her studies had left her social life with much to be desired.

In the first two weeks of university alone, she'd gained one friend and lost a boyfriend. And while they were drifting apart anyway, it was still a relatively large blow to her self-esteem and her confidence to actually get out there, socialise and make the most of her first year of freedom.

The only friends she'd made were those on her course. Priya, who'd just abandoned her to stick her nose in books about the Great Vowel Shift, and Anya, who…to be honest, rarely left her room. Seeming more like a ghost than anything else.

It was a wonder she was still a student, with how often she missed classes.

What Anya does do best, is manage to somehow rise out of her pit to drag her to Christmas parties that aren't even run by their college.

Which is why she finds herself somehow at Trinity College campus, where she eyes several scantily clad women wearing revealing Santa costumes adorned with itchy tinsel.

Anya is the sort of girl who, well, every girl kind of wants to be. So much so she sort of wonders why she hangs around with her. She's pretty, fit and fucking clever. Her only downfall is her taste in men, so often being Oxford pretty boys.

So it is absolutely no surprise at all, when two jägerbombs in, Anya has somehow slipped into the arms of one aforementioned Oxford pretty boy, seeming in every way a clone of the previous, with the exception of the way he pairs his Ayia Nappa top with his low rise jeans and the only effort to conform to  theme, is a pair of plastic reindeer antlers on his head bobbling side to side.

She grimaces as she watches them suck each other's faces off in a dark corner of the room, ‘Stay Another Day’ by East 17 blaring with a cheap crackle through the speakers as she makes her way through the bodies to somewhere quiet.

She sighs, nursing the rum and coke Anya had sloppily poured her in one hand as she closes the door behind her, shutting out the drunken squeals and cheers for the peace of a quiet common room.

It's still decorated, she notes, but empty. Maybe she could lurk here until Anya is done, if she ever will be.

The deep clack of a pool ball being sucked into a socket makes her jump, realising perhaps that she was not actually alone, as she'd previously thought.

The cool light hung above the battered pool table illuminates his deep red jumper, and the first thing she sees is the way he leans on one leg, standing straight as if he was imitating the rigid pool cue leant before him. The yellow lined detailing around the cuffs highlights his small wrists and big hands that stretch from it as he rubs blue chalk onto the tip.

Her eyes trail up the back of his neck, past the lazy waves of dark blonde hair, clearly due a trim at some point, and to his face, even from this angle able to see how his features sit. With a sharp nose and jawline, and black skinny glasses perched above his cheekbones.

She almost laughs at the way he's almost as tall as the light that illuminates the table, half-thinking that she might never have seen such a strange and yet interesting looking guy.

“Didn't fancy the party?” she finally says, alerting him to her presence.

She doesn't quite expect the way the light bounces off his sharp features, sinking his blue eyes in shadow as his head turns to her with an expression of boredom.

“Not particularly, no.” 

His voice is lighter than she thought it would be and part of her wonders if he's putting it on. He presses his glasses further up his nose before assessing his next shot, stalking around the table.

“Why's that?”

This time, when he answers, he doesn't look at her. He simply leans down, and aims.

“Not. Fucking. Invited,” he replies bitterly, missing a yellow, “that's why.”

Her fingertips moisten against the glass as the ice begins to melt, but she pays it no mind.

“So you're lurking about in here instead.”

He plays with the cue in one hand, barely sparing a second glance, a bitter, quiet laugh escaping him.

He misses another red before he heaves a sigh, straightening to look at her again.

“You here alone as well?” he asks dispassionately.

She smiles lazily and shrugs.

“My mate is…a bit preoccupied, if you know what I mean,” she replies, taking an awkward sip of the now watered down drink, “like you, I don't really think these are my thing either.”

He seems to consider her statement for a moment.

“Why come then?”

She shrugs again, “trying to be sociable.”

“With those vapid cunts? Good luck getting any intelligent conversation out of them.”

She watches as he picks up the blue chalk again, applying more when he doesn't even need it in sort of a nervous gesture, his blue eyes averted and pretending to assess his next move.

There's something about him. How judgemental he is and how he forms his words. Perhaps she hadn't expected this sort of guy to be so outwardly honest with his opinions, and for the most part, she can't say she disagrees with the message, just the way in which he said it.

“Can I play?” She asks, leaning over to put her drink down.

“What are you reading?” He asks so suddenly, and out of context, that she does a double take.

She raises her eyebrows, smiling, “Does my answer depend on if I get to play or not?”

There's no answer from him. Shocker of the century.

“Modern Languages.”

“Fucking hell,” he groans.

She's a bit too happy and dizzy on rum to get defensive.

“Is that one of those subjects that sounds way less interesting than it actually ends up being?”

She gives a breathy laugh, “just like languages.”

He hums, as if the answer didn't impress him, “more of a science and numbers man myself, obviously.”

For a moment, it's lost on her why it's obvious.

He takes a sip of his, no doubt, stale beer, wetting his lips after, “Your name is?”

She narrows her eyes teasingly, smiling as she leans against the table, “quid pro quo.”

She enjoys the brief confusion on his face, before he realises what she's said.

“Okay, okay, Michael.”

She smiles, “See? You know what that meant. Who says you're not a languages man?”

It's the first time he seems to duck his head, hiding a blush she's barely able to see.

“I don’t think the Ancient Roman idea of fair exchange warrants the title of ‘languages man’.” 

The blue chalk comes off on his hands as he fiddles nervously with it.

“So, am I bestowed the privilege of playing?”

He raises his head, and she can tell he's trying his damndest to not let a little beer-induced smile pass his lips.

“I suppose I could allow you to embarrass yourself in front of me for a bit, if you insist. We'll have to share a cue though.”

She doesn't have the heart to tell him her uncle was a pool player, and so by extension, has played pool for most of her upbringing. Rather, he finds out himself when she pots three yellows in a row.

It's either the alcohol or pity that kicks in when she misses the fourth, holding the cue for him to take.

“You being good at pool wasn't on my bingo card,” he mutters with some nervous teasing in his voice.

They go back and forth for a bit, missing some, potting some, with interspersed conversation between. 

“Thought you might have been a Norman-no -mates, like me,” he says quietly as he watches her assess her next shot. Bending to aim.

“You're not far off,” she replies, “first fortnight I was down a boyfriend. Since then, I've only been up two friends and one of them is in the other room  having ditched me for the shag of a lifetime.”

She doesn't see it until after she takes the shot, the way his eyes flit back to hers quickly as she rights herself to stand.

Was he checking me out?

As if he was lagging, he only laughs now at what she's said.

“What about you?” She asks, “no girls, or boys, on the scene?”

He blushes a lot when she asks that. And she can't help the fluttering in her chest she feels that someone might find her attractive.

“Can’t say there is.”

She stands close, passing the cue to him, electricity warming her fingertips as she grazes his.

“And why not?”

He scoffs bitterly, “have you seen me?” he mutters, wandering around the table, suddenly unable to shake the feeling of her gaze, “Not too many girls out there looking for the stereotypical nerdy math boy, really.”

“Hm,” she hums, “how unfortunate for them.”

He sinks a red, picking at his red jumper.

“Yeah, they're clearly missing out, huh?”

The bitter and self-deprecating tone of his voice makes her heart sink a bit. He's not a bad looking guy, she thinks. His style, glasses, hair, she would almost say look actually quite cute.

Maybe that's the thing he doesn't like.

“No interest? Or is maths the only one for you?”

He misses the next shot and sighs, holding the cue for her to take, “clearly, the only one I need.”

She steps close to retrieve, taking her time, looking up at him as she does. At this proximity, Michael sucks in a breath quietly, his lips, which she can't say she'd noticed until right this moment, parting and his Adam's apple bobbing as his eyes flit rapidly down her.

A warmth swirls in her gut at that.

She circles the table, “what about in the past?” 

He leans against the other side, his hand on the cushion, long fingers splayed on the green fabric. She has to shake her head to break her own trance.

“Can’t say my love life has exactly been a roaring success, honestly.”

The way he says it.

She wouldn't be surprised if he was…

Oh.

“So what? You're focussed on your studies?”

She misses. Too set on the conversation rather than the game.

He gives a mirthless laugh, “Sure.”

She rounds the table, holding the cue for him to take, but when he reaches for it, she pulls back with a smirk.

“So we've established you're not one for languages,” she starts, and Michael furrows his brows in confusion, “have you ever really asked for what you want? Ever?”

He seems to miss what she's trying to say.

“Have you been with a girl?”

At that, his eyes widen slightly, a blush crawling up his neck to the tips of his ears, cheeks near matching his shirt.

She knows she has her answer.

“Well…I…no, I haven't…”

At chest height, she can see the way his breathing elevates.

“And, hypothetically, if a girl expressed interest. What would you say?”

His lips part for a good few seconds before he gives a reply, “I’d…I um…I guess it depends who…”

It's like he's afraid she'll make fun of him for it. 

“What about, if it was me?” She asks, her voice lowering as she reaches out to pick some lint off his jumper, like it's the most normal thing in the world. His body goes all rigid as she does.

This isn't normal in his world.

Michael swallows thickly, “you're not taking the Mick out of me, are you?”

She shakes her head, “I just want you to feel comfortable asking for what you want.”

For someone who had so often thought about it, now when faced with the situation, he feels as if he doesn't know what to do or say.

She's still stood with the cue in one hand, close enough so that when she shifts her weight from foot to foot, her knee grazes his leg. It's interesting to watch him think so deeply about it. Convinced he's probably never thought of anything so much in his life.

“What if what I want is…you?”

The tension deepens like the tone and volume of his voice. And without effort, a smile finds its way to her face when she looks at his expression. He's frozen stiff, for once, not knowing what to say.

So nothing shocks her more when he grabs the pool cue as a means of pulling her to him, and he has to duck considerably to press his lips clumsily to hers. He's eager, that much is true, but it's clear he's inexperienced. But instead of causing discomfort, she thinks it's quite endearing.

The pool cue clangs to the floor as she braces her hands on his shoulders and chest, guiding his lips with her own in a slower, more careful movement. She feels the edge of the pool table bite into her lower back when he presses her against it, clearly excited, if the hardness that's flush to her stomach is anything to go by.

The hands she had been staring at not half an hour ago are bruising as they trace her waist and hips, with a grip tight enough to tell her exactly how much he's enjoying the experience.

For a moment, they're not in a common room alone, against a pool table, with ‘Cheetah-licious Christmas’ playing in the room over, the bass of which rumbles through the floor and into their chests.

The kiss lasts a long while, and she has a feeling he wants to savour it as if it's the last time he will ever be able to do it. 

One of her hands snakes its way to the back of his head, fingers gripping at his hair to pull him closer as either of them tilt to aid more contact between them. And at the little amount of tugging, Michael whines into her mouth, prompting him to pull away.

He looks halfway between mortified and pleased, his glasses having skewed to one side with the eagerness of what they'd done. And she laughs a bit, reaching up to fix them, which seems to make the mortification fade somewhat from his face.

Michael looks down between them, where his obvious erection is pressed to her, and pulls away slightly with a scarlet blush.

“Shit - sorry-”

“It's fine,” she reassures, “no need to be embarrassed.”

The words alone would be enough, if her hand hadn't snaked between their bodies to brush her palm over him. And if it were possible, his flush spreads to his neck, words failing him once more.

Her eyes flicker up to his, their lips all kiss-bruised and swollen.

“If you don't want to-”

“No, no, I want to…” he says, immediately embarrassed about how quick it was.

She smiles, one hand palming him through his jeans and the other trailing up his chest, “Sit down.”

He backs up to sit on a nearby sofa, watching with a kind of adoration as she makes space between his legs, her eyes glimmering at him as she slowly undoes his belt.

“If at any time, you need to stop, tell me.”

He gives a nervous laugh, his stomach muscles tightening, wondering probably if this is really happening to him, “Not sure I will want to…”

She smiles reassuringly, watching as his lips part as she palms him through his boxers, trying to suppress how impressed she is with his size.

It's always the skinny white guys.

“Well, the offer's there.” She smirks, pulling him from his boxers, Michael gives a suffered breath, feeling her touch on him and also her breath so close. He almost feels dizzy. The thought of this happening in this situation, with a party going on next door, is dangerous and exciting in equal measure.

She knows he has very limited experience, so decides not to tease him too much.

Michael gasps softly as she licks at the base of him, drawing a wet line with her tongue along the vein underneath, all the way to the tip. She concentrates her efforts slightly on the sensitive spot there before closing her mouth over the head of his cock, sucking gently.

She feels the way his thighs tense, and the blue disappearing as he closes his eyes. His fists are tight beside him, knuckles white, like he doesn't know if he should touch her or not. All he knows right now is that this feeling is brand new, and the sensation is so much already.

She pulls herself from him to run her tongue over his length, one hand moving to his hand, to encourage him. His blue eyes crack open just a bit, to understand what she's trying to tell him.

And she fights the urge to smile as his longer fingers swipe across her temple into her hair, his touch tender, soft and unsure as he holds her by it. 

Her lips wrap around him once more, pushing him further into her mouth, taking him steadily and slowly at first. Michael's hips move barely, chasing the friction that he's getting on his cock when she bobs her head on him and hollows her cheeks.

He watches with parted lips and warm cheeks, moving her hair away so he can watch himself disappear into her mouth over and over. Her hand massages the rest of him, giving him two unique sensations in one, something that earns her a deep, throaty moan.

When her eyes open to look at him, he thinks his heart stops in his chest for a split second. He closes his eyes, not able to bear the way she looks with his cock in her mouth if she looks right at him, feeling that if he did any longer he wouldn't last.

The sounds he emits don't stop there as she increases her pace on him, pressing her tongue to the underside of him and taking him deeper into her throat, humming around him at the heady scent of his skin.

It's only when she takes him as far as he will go, working hard to control her gag reflex that he gives the first genuine buck of his hips, tightening in her hair and a far-too-loud moan. If anyone in the next room were quiet and paying attention, they'd likely know exactly what was going on.

“Fuck-”

It only serves to spur her on as she pulls back, moving in a more steady, quick rhythm, that she is sure Michael is loving judging by the rate of his moans and the way he chokes out his words.

His stomach clenches and unclenches, his high creeping up on him as her mouth tightens around his length. 

“Shit - you need to - I'm gonna -” he chokes, weakly tugging her hair in an effort to pull her mouth off him before he cums.

If she didn't have his cock in her mouth she'd smile.

Her hand squeezes the base of him, and Michael throws his head back slightly, a long shuddered and choked moan reverberating through his chest. She swears she feels his thighs shake as she stills, warm ropes of his cum taste musky at the back of her throat.

His loud moan is followed quickly by more softer ones as her throat contracts to swallow as much as she can, briefly increasing the tension and friction around his sensitive length.

When she pulls off him with a pleased sigh, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Michael sits up slightly, having to gather his breath.

“Fucking hell…”

She takes it as a compliment and rises to her feet, her hands smoothing her skirt back down.

And she squeaks in delight as Michael quickly tucks himself away, barely doing up his jeans buttons before backing her up to the pool table again, kissing her fervently.

“What about you…do I…” he starts when he breaks away, panting softly. She smiles at the notion but shakes her head. This experience was for him alone.

“Not right now, don't feel inclined to,” she reassured, her hands on his chest, feeling the way his heart is beating rapidly beneath it.

“Right now?” he asks with a quiet, unsure tone, “does that mean…there's gonna be a next time?”

His tone is careful, and yet, she is able to detect something like desire there. An excitement for more, without seeming too eager so that he's not let down if she says no. Something that makes it clear he is 100% on board.

She bites back a grin.

“Quid Pro Quo, Michael.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorsky @fan-goddess

[bitterspoons]

For once, I thought it was me.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Soulmate au where you can hear the songs your soulmate is listening to. Fred asks your best friend—Angelina—to the ball thinking she's his soulmate.

use of y/n

Warnings: Angst and just a lil' fluff

Word Count:

part one / part two coming soon

A/N: of course the first thing I write is a soulmate au 😭—it's fine and I hope you like it.

"Angelina!" Y/n calls, running over to the Gryffindor table—almost tripping over her feet before placing a hand on Angelina's shoulder.

"Yes?" Angelina looked up from her conversation with the Weasley twins and smiled at her best friend. The Great Hall was bustling with noise.

Y/n panted, catching her breath as she fixed her hair. "Sorry—I just—I ran—oh god I'm dying—" Y/n tried to catch her breath before waving her hand at the twins. "Give me a second—continue your conversation..."

Angelina chuckled before turning back to George and Fred. "This is my friend, Y/n." Angelina introduced. "She's in Hufflepuff so I doubt you would've met her."

Y/n waved, stealing some of Angelina's water.

"Why haven't you invited her to some of our parties?" George asked, batting his eyes. "It would've been nice, seeing a pretty face more often."

Angelina rolled her eyes at the flirt, making space next to her for Y/n. "Yeah, I've asked her but she's not a huge fan of social events." She explained. "It's a miracle she's even in the Great Hall—why aren't you with Willow?"

"Oh, I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out after Divination. Turns out my detention with Professor Sprout is cancelled!" The Hufflepuff said happily, still a bit red from George's flattering.

"Hell yeah!" Angelina cheered. "I told you she loves you."

Y/n smiled. "Yeah but turning her favorite plant into a pair of heels is pushing the line."

Fred cackled. "Y/n, You did what?!"

In her head, a symphony sounded. Him just saying her name sounded like an orchestra.

Pops of warmths fidgeted around her. She had always had a crush on the Weasley, and she never really knew when it happened. She hasn't told a soul and she never would. It was just— he always seemed so happy. She had made him happy, she made him laugh.

Y/n beamed as she explained how she had gotten too caught up with her conversation with Angelina about what shoes to wear for the Yule Ball, she had completely forgotten about the spell she was casting.

"Little Chéri's a troublemaker huh?" Fred teased, scrunching up his nose.

"Chéri?!" Angelina cackled—not a fan of pet names in the slightest.

George grumbled. "Fred has been learning French so he can impress girls."

Y/n laughed, taking a sip of Angelina's water again. "I think it's cute." She bit the tip of her thumbs, an old habit of hers.

"Ever the hopeless romantic, Y/n." Angelina commented, stealing her drink back.

The four engaged in conversation until a Slytherin tapped on Y/n's shoulder. "Uh—Y/n, I think I have a fitting right now." She said awkwardly, getting glares from the Gryffindors.

"Oh!" Y/n shot up, grabbing the last strawberry off of Angelina's plate before grabbing Angelina's pen—sticking it behind her ear—and running off, dragging the Slytherin with her.

"Hey!" Angelina protested, grumbling as she bit into her toast.

"What was that about?" Fred asked, battling Ron for the last corndog.

"Huh? Oh—Y/n and I are helping organise the Ball." Angelina explained, not seeing how Fred watched her run her fingers through her hair as she grabbed another pen to do her Potions Homework. "She's helping make and tailor people's outfits."

"Y/n?" Hermione clarified, popping into the conversation. "She's ridiculously talented, she made the dress I'm wearing!"

"She made adjustments on mine!" Angelina looked at Hermione. "I didn't like how bland my dress was, so she helped bedazzled it."

"Do you think she can fix Fred's dress?" George asked, earning a punch from Fred. "Ow! No seriously though, his tie is all wonky and his pants go way past his feet. Poor bloke's gonna trip!"

Angelina laughed, packing her stuff away and slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Find out yourself! I have to go check up on the Frog Choir."

Just a couple minutes later, Fred heard oddly croaky choruses from his soulmate.

●●●

Fred was trying to go the sleep that night, but all he could hear was stupid music.

When he couldn't decipher whether he was hearing it through his soulmate or if he was hearing it in the common room, he shoved his slippers on and slowly went down stairs.

As he peeked his head around the corner, he saw Angelina dancing with somebody—a CD player in the background as they laughed.

It was the same music playing in his head...Is Angelina—actually his soulmate?

He watched Angelina dance with her friend, practicing their dance for the ball before slowly going back upstairs.

Y/n and Angelina fell the floor in a heap, almost crying of laughter as Angelina stepped on Y/n's foot and then went crashing to the floor.

"So, are you planning on asking your mystery crush to the ball?" Angelina asked, rolling onto her stomach and popping the CD out.

Angelina didn't have a clue about her crush on one of the Weasley twins. Y/n refused to tell her, but she did give vague details about why she liked him so much.

"You think I have time for that?" Y/n questioned, brushing her hair. "Even if I did have the time to ask him, he's probably not even my soulmate."

"Who cares?" Angelina asked, exasperated.

Angelina was one of the people who couldn't hear music from their soulmate, it happened more than you'd think—about as common as dyslexia.

Angelina didn't give two fucks about whether the person she was dating was her soulmate, she tended to do whatever she wanted.

"Well—my soulmate is pretty cool too." Y/n protested.

"Well obviously!" Angelina retorted. "They has to be good enough for our Y/n"

"Oh stop it." Y/n laughed, throwing her hairbrush at Angelina. "I won't have time to ask someone and besides, I think he likes someone else." Y/n looked down, fiddling at the edge of her pink pyjamas.

"Your soulmate or your crush?"

"Maybe both!"

●●●

Fred woke up early today, mostly because he couldn't sleep. I mean, he just found his soulmate! This is the moment that everybody waits for, and it finally happened!

Fred was utterly in love with whoever his soulmate was. The two soulmates have sang duets with each other since they could talk—never making any action to try and find each other but Fred would be lying if he said he hadn't blasted music in his ears just to see if someone in the Great Hall would react.

His soulmate was constantly listening to music and singing songs, it comforted him whenever he heard it—especially since he's heard it since he was little.

And it was Angelina, a girl he was been trying not to crush on for ages.

Fred walked down the stairs, almost laughing when he saw Angelina.

Angelina and Y/n were completely passed out on the common room couches, paper sprawled out as they were doing a history of magic essay.

Fred shook Angelina awake. "Angie...Angie!"

Angelina fell off the bed. "What?"

Fred grinned. "I just thought you might wanna head to bed before the rest of the house wakes up."

Angelina rubbed her eyes before looking around—seeing essay papers, pens and her best friend, still sleeping as she sleepily held the tip of her thumb in her mouth and lulled herself asleep. "What time is it?"

"You have a little less than three hours before everybody else wakes up."

Angelina sighed, getting up and separating their papers and pens. "Hey, Fred?"

"Yeah?" He said hopefully.

"Can you do me a favour?"

Angelina handed him a messenger bag with little bows and gold chains decorating it, he took it without question as she continued.

"Do you think you could get Y/n to her common room? This is.. um This is the longest she's slept for a while and I don't know how to get into the Hufflepuff common room."

Fred thought for a moment—but who was he to deny his soulmate? After all, getting into the Hufflepuff dorms were easy—having learned the ins and outs of practically the whole school.

So Fred slung the bag across his shoulder and walked over to Y/n, still sleeping peacefully.

"Thank you!" Angelina grabbed her own supplies and started going up stairs. "You're the best!" She called. "I'll get you a tailoring with her today! Is dinner alright?"

Fred nodded, slowly picked Y/n up, putting her on the couch so he could give her a piggy back ride to her common room. "Hold on..."

Almost as if her sleeping body could hear it, Y/n's body tensed up, making it easier for Fred to carry.

So Fred walked out of the Gryffindor dormitories and started walking in the halls to go to the Hufflepuff common room.

The sun had barely risen, shining dull lights into the hallway and Fred felt Y/n shift in her sleep—ignoring how his skin fluttered as her breath rolled on top of it.

Fred almost stopped walking as Y/n shifted once more, making a small whimper, trying to pull her hand closer to her face.

"Chéri, if you move your hand, you're gonna fall—okay?" Fred said softly, adjusting his grip on her legs, making sure she wouldn't slip.

Y/n hummed in response, tucking her head on Fred's shoulder as he kept on walking.

Fred was halfway to the common room—walking slowly as to not wake up Y/n when he froze.

Having her thumb clasped between her fingers around Fred's chest, supporting her upper body weight—Fred felt her head twitching, needing something to soothe her to sleep.

Not wanting to have to explain the situation to the sleeping girl or disappoint Angelina—Fred adjusted the girl, now giving her a piggy-front, letting Y/n head sit comfortably against his neck.

Fred debated checking whether his face was on fire when the sleeping girl began to press little kisses on his neck, trying to substitute something for her thumb.

Fred continued walking, but why was he so flustered?

Maybe it’s his soulmate’s best friend.

What was her name again? Y/n?

Fred knocked on the Hufflepuff dorm door in the tune of Helga Hufflepuff. Before walking in and taking the stairs to the girl’s dormitory.

Trying not to feel awkward, he searched the dorm labels until he saw it.

______________

Girls Dorm #207

- Susan Bones

- Lia Diggory

- Y/n L/n

______________

Praising Merlin that she didn’t have too many roommates— He knocked on the door a few times, jumping up again to make sure Y/n didn’t slip.

"Hello?" A small voice asked, a very tired red head opened the door.

Fred gave an award smile. "I have a delivery?"

The girl smiled before letting him in and pointing at the empty bed and messed up desk.

Feed walked over, clutching on to Y/n as he quickly flipped the blanket open and tucked her instead. Y/n immediately latched onto the blankets.

Fred smiled before looking at her desk—tons of dress designs a long with tons of reminders everywhere when a certain one caught his eyes.

The Weasley Twins Inspired Dress

Curious, he picked up the sketch to see that she managed to make a confetti canon dress, inspired by that time he and George covered the Slytherin team in confetti right before a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff.

"I think you're cute together," Susan whispered bashfully, her cheeks pink.

"Oh no," her face fell when Fred denied it. "I already found my soulmate today."

"Oh I'm sorry." Susan apologised, combing her hair. "I just thought your h—never mind." She began to point at her neck before waving it off. "I assume you know how to take care of it?"

"Yeah! I'm planning on asking her to the yule ball!" Fred said, not having any idea what Susan was talking about.

"What? Ya know what—" Susan dug through her make up bag before grabbing Fred's arm and swatching some concealer shades. "You're lucky, you're my winter shade." Susan tossed Fred a concealer wand before shooing him out. "Bye!"

Holding onto the concealer, extremely confused, Fred walked back to him common room before going into the bathroom.

"Shit." Fred vocalised, realising why Susan Bones has thrown him concealer.

A light hickey lay on the side of his neck where Y/n had been.

Fred spent the next two hours trying to figure out how concealer worked.

He didn't understand it—instead opting for a scarf instead to cover up the blotchy disaster he created on his neck.

●●●

Y/n genuinely didn't question why she woke up in her bed and more concerned on her planner—you could see her running up and down the halls all day.

"Professor Moody, may I borrow Ron Weasley please?"

Ron showed her his suit for the ball. "Never mind, you're beyond help. Professor Moody, you can have him back." Y/n said, scribbling something out in her planner.

Taking the stairs, Y/n just started walking—flipping to the back of her planner to edit some sketches and ideas for dresses—not noticing the stair cases changing directions.

Walking up and down and sideways along the halls, Y/n kept walking until she bumped into someone.

"I'm so sorry!" She said automatically only to be shushed by two voices. "Huh—?"

""SHH!" Y/n looked at the two Weasley twins.

"Why?" She asked, looking around to see nobody.

"I don' know," Fred admitted.

"We're skipping, so I assume we have to be quiet." George finished.

The Hufflepuff scoffed. "I'm not skipping. I did all my work in advance so I could focus of the dress making." She looked down at the planner. "And on that note—you have a appointment with me in two minutes. We can't be late!"

"Does that mean you have the answers?" Fred asked as he got dragged away.

"We can discuss answers after we're on time for our session."

"If it's our appointment, how can we be late?"

Y/n sighed, shaking her head. “It’s fine we’re almost there, Willow’s gonna be upset.”

“Who?”

Y/n dragged Fred near a tree where a small desk, mannequins and color swatches were, Y/n thrust Fred upon a little platform until tree branches began to swing around chaotically.

“Willow! Calm down! This isn’t Ron! This is a different Weasley!” Y/n started yelling.

“Willow? As in the Whomping Willow?!”

“Stop moving!” Y/n snapped, petting the branches. “Willow didn’t like it when your brother nearly killed her with a car. I think she has like— Weasley trauma.”

Fred cackled. “Weasley trauma?” A tree branch slapped the back of his head. “Hey!”

“She’s very sensitive.” Y/n defended. “Speaking of Ron, please tell me your suit isn’t as hideous.”

“Don’t worry— I just have a normal suit… I wasn’t sure if I should’ve brought it so I just wore it—”

“That’s perfect. Mind shrugging off the jacket and scarf?”

Nervously, Fred took off the scarf and jacket, revealing the concealer mess on his neck.

“Oh sweetie, what the hell happened to your neck!” Y/n cooed. "Goodness, let me help you. You're gonna break out... Accio makeup kit!"

"I have every shade under the sun, I'm helping people with their makeup too." Y/n waved her hand down. "Get down, off." Y/n stepped onto the platform as Fred stepped off, facing Y/n.

Y/n took a makeup wipe and cleaned up the spot before taking out a whisk and spinning it on the hickey.

"When did you learn how to hide hickey? Does that even work?" Fred asked, watching the metal kitchen utensil.

"Oh hush, it's common knowledge." Y/n pushed his face away, continuing to whisk. "It helps the blood disperse. Next time, put ice on it before it bruises."

Shade matching and blending it in, Y/n hoped Fred couldn't hear her heart beating out of her chest as she finished hiding the red mark. "See? Like it never even happened."

Willow presented a mirror for Fred to see for himself, thank god because that scarf was very itchy.

"Now, how much are we thinking off the tie?" Y/n held up a tape measure and a sharpie, tucking the sharpie behind her ear. "It supposed to be around your belt buckle...Do you feel comfortable with it over here?"

Fred nodded, looking at her in the mirror more than him. Why hadn't he seen her more often? Has she been friends with Angelina for a long time?

"Lovely...okay do you mind if I take this?" Y/n took the colorful tie off Fred and held it up to Willow." Willow, this is Fred's tie." Willow held onto the tie.

"Okay just one second..." Y/n brought out a sheet of brown fabric and a sheet of black fabric and hopped onto the platform with him. She pulled the black one around half of his chest and the brown one around the other half.

"Okay so I think the brown is more flattering on you, I feel like you look paler with the black one—Hey!"

Fred's head started tilting to one side as he imagined Angelina and her hanging out—still in disbelief he had actually found his soulmate.

Y/n grabbed his jaw and moved it so that it faced her. "Sorry, I just need to see—" Y/n furrowed her eyebrows confused as Fred pointed at something in the distance behind her.

Y/n looked behind her only for her jaw to pulled back and facing Fred, pulling the same move she had accidentally done to him. "Touché," She smiled—desperately hoping she wasn't blushing.

"How long have you friends with Angelina?" Fred asked, snapping Y/n out of her mental freakout.

"Oh—uh, since first year. We met on the train." Y/n cast a spell to turn Fred's suit brown. "Yeah that looks better—you looked like you were going to a funeral."

“Then why do I never see you guys hang out?”

Y/n thinks before answering. “I like to keep myself busy, that or I just eat in the kitchen.”

“Why not hang out with Angelina?”

“Uh- Well Alicia and I don’t really get along so I don’t want to make it weird for Angelina. Besides, most of the time Angelina hangs out with me in the kitchen.”

So that’s why Fred never sees Angelina in the Great hall. “Why the kitchen?”

“Because the house elves love me.” Y/n smiled, writing her to do list. “Besides, I like baking.”

Fred stepped off the platform and watched Y/n write. “Do you bake any of the food in the Great Hall?”

“The brownies, but sometimes I also cook the ribs but I like baking more than cooking.”

Fred loves the brownies, he eats them every time they show up on the table.

“Speaking of food… It’s dinner, you better hurry before all the seats are taken.” Y/n starting putting things away and getting out a dress presumingly belonging to her next appointment.

Fred stepped off the small platform, checking his covered hickey once more before starting to turn around. "You aren't going to dinner?"

"Maybe later." She responded quickly, casting a spell on the dress. "Not hungry. " She said briefly. "You can pick up your tie by like tomorrow."

"Alright then, I'll see you around?"

"Sure. Angelina! Can you grab that?" A piece of fabric swirled away in the wind near an approaching Angelina.

Fred walked away, happy with his day and his fitting appointment.

(A/N lmao I have nooooo idea how to end these. Part two could be ready tomorrow or in 3 months, we'll see.)

[allthesmutl0vers]

Hi! I have a request if you accept.

George and the reader have been dating (sort of secretly) for a while now. The reader is someone who falls outside the typical, generic Slytherin image. She is kind and calm (well, mostly). Until some of her rude bully friends started messing with George, his family and this 'blood traitor' thing about the Weasley name. This is a definite turning point. The reader definitely proves to everyone that she is truly a Slytherin. She shows her scary and cruel side to those who deserve it. From now on, no one will mess with the ones she loves, she can do anything for the guy she loves. Possessive and protective. George's jaw drops... and after all this they may need to find some privacy.

Oo! I love this idea!!😃 Thank you so much for sending it to me 💗Let me see what I can do. Sorry this took me a day to get to, love.

MDNI, NSFW, 18+.

Requests: OPEN

Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. 🫶

Pairing: George Weasley x F!Reader

Word Count: 2,959

Summary: Nobody in Slytherin could ever imagine being caught dead with someone from another house, let alone from Gryffindor. Nobody but you, at least. You've always kept to yourself, especially when it comes to your relationship with a certain Weasley twin. Everyone, including even your friends, wonders how you ended up in Slytherin. When those same friends go too far with their deplorable insults, you decide to show them exactly why you were sorted into Slytherin.

TW: Bullying, Name calling, Violence, Smut (P! in V! -You're on birth control), Oral (F! Receiving), Praise, Possessive!George, Protective!George, Spanking, Hair Pulling, Breeding adjacent?- Not sure about this last tw, lmk in the comments if that's what it is.

Song Inspo: Click here (River: Bishop Briggs)

"I'm just saying, this school has gone to the dogs," Pansy huffs. "I mean, seriously, how could Dumbledore think having a werewolf as a professor is a good idea?"

"It was last year, Pansy. Get over it," I mutter as I try to focus on my book. She's nice enough, but I swear to Merlin, she can never just sit in silence. And when she can't think of anything to talk about, she somehow finds a way to talk shit about someone else.

"Didn't peg you for a half-breed sympathizer," pansy quips, leaning back on her hands as we sit in the courtyard.

I roll my eyes, cursing myself for saying anything at all. Because now I'm sucked into a conversation I never wanted to be a part of. "I could say the same thing to you. Isn't your family currently harboring Greyback?" I ask with a raised brow over my book.

"Hush up about that, will you?" Pansy asks as she looks around the courtyard in a panic. "Nobody is supposed to know."

I do my best to ignore her, trying to go back to my book. But when I see George Weasley come into the courtyard with his twins and a band of Gryffindors, and a mix of the other two houses, I can't pull my eyes away.

I watch as he pulls something out of his pocket. It lights up like a sparkler, and he begins to toss it back and forth with Fred while the others around them 'oo' and 'ahh.' Probably the Whiz-Bangs he was telling me about in our last little rendezvous in the room of requirement, a new invention that they've been working on. His eyes meet mine and he smiles, biting the corner of his lower lip as he catches it again.

I smile back, wishing more than anything that I could just go up and be with him publicly. George has mentioned wanting to go public with our relationship, but being a Slytherin princess makes it a little more than difficult.

Going back generations, all of my family has been sorted into Slytherin. And although my parents are a little more progressive than most Slytherin alumni, they've made it clear how they feel about me dating outside of my house.

"Ugh, look them over there. Tossing around that garbage," Pansy huffs, annoyed.

Before I can say anything, she's already up and walking over with Daphne Greengrass. Shit. I stand up, too, and walk behind them as we approach the small circle that has started to form around Fred and George. "Hey!" Pansy shouts, shoving her way through.

Fred and George look between me and Pansy with confused looks and a knot of nerves forms deep in my stomach. "What do you want, Parkinson?" Fred bites back.

"Surprised you managed to slither your way out of the dungeon," George adds with a smirk.

Pansy crosses her arms over her chest with a huff. "How dare you talk to me like that," she spits at them with a venom-laced tone. "I'm just shocked you managed to actually make something. Aren't you failing nearly everything? What's up? Weasley's can't afford a tutor?" She quips.

My fists clench at my sides. It's not fair to blame the children for parents not making more money. Especially when they're the kindest people in the world. I watch George's jaw tick with annoyance. "Better than sucking dick to get a good grade. Or were you on your knees in front of Snape for another reason?" George fires back.

I purse my lips to keep myself from smiling. Nobody is supposed to know that except for me, but the look on Pansy's face makes it well worth telling George about.

Pansy's face turns bright red as everyone around us gasps and starts whispering among themselves. "Shut up," she seethes with anger. She turns to me, and I see her nostrils flare. She knows I had to be the one who told him. "How fucking dare you?" She spits at me. "You promised not to tell anyone. And you tell that filthy fucking blood traitor?!" She practically screams.

Something inside of me snaps, and I look over at George, who is already drawing his wand. I shake my head softly before turning back to Pansy. "Actually, he just guessed. You just outed yourself," I quip, taking a step closer to her. "And don't fucking talk about him like that," I snap at her.

"You're defending him?!" She gasps, pointing to George. "You're a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake. Have some fucking class," she says with disgust. "Talking with blood traitors," she shakes her head. "What would your parents say?"

Everyone around us falls silent. I've never talked this much. Most of these people have probably never heard me talk at all. "You're one to talk about class, Parkinson," I step closer to her. "Your family is so fucking inbred it's a miracle you're even able to write your name."

Pansy begins to shake with anger as she draws her wand, and I draw mine, too, holding it at my side. "You disgust me. The fact you can call yourself a Slytherin with that filthy mud-blood of a mother is beyond me," she snaps. "And defending a blood traitor to top it off?" She scoffs with disgust.

I grip my wand tight. "Say blood traitor one more time, and I'll remind you just how much of a Slytherin I am."

Pansy clenches her jaw before she opens her mouth. "Blood-"

"Flipendo!" I flick my wand, throwing Pansy back five feet and making her land on her ass. Everyone laughs, including Fred and George.

Pansy stands up in a hurry, brushing off her skit as she aims her wand at me. "Locomotor Wibbly!" she flicks her wand at me, casting the jelly-legs jinx.

George steps in front of me, dodging the jinx with a wave of his wand. "That's enough!" He yells, making everyone fall silent again. Fred and George don't yell in anger, so it catches everyone, myself included by surprise.

"I got it, Georgie," I say without looking at him as I move to stand in front of him. "Levicorpus!" I jinx Pansy, holding her up in the air by her ankles with a dangle of my wand. She screams, frantically trying to cover herself with her skirt. "Had enough?" I ask her with a bite in my tone.

"Let me down!" She screams as everyone points and laughs at her granny panties. Don't try to jinx someone on laundry day.

"That doesn't sound like an apology," I taunt with a smirk as I turn, waving my wand and Pansy over the fountain, holding her a few inches above the water.

"I'm sorry!" Pansy screams as I feel George put a hand possessively on my waist.

"Don't apologize to me," I taunt, leaning into George's touch. Fuck what anyone says.

Pansy looks at George and Fred, who moves to stand at George's side. "I'm sorry!" She cries with tears falling as she hangs upside down over the fountain.

I smirk and pull my wand back, breaking the invisible rope that holds her upside down and she falls into the fountain with a splash. I walk over to the fountain, leaning over the side. "Don't ever let me hear you say shit about any of them again. Got it?" I spit at her as she drips with water.

Pansy nods without a word, sniffling back her tears. I let out a deep breath and turn to see the large crowd that gathered as I dueled with Pansy. "Show's over," I tell them all as I walk up to George.

"Damn, didn't know you had that in you," Fred jokes, running a hand through his red hair.

I huff a laugh. "You know what they say about the quiet ones," I smirk. "I couldn't let her stand there and talk shit about you guys or your family," I tell them both before turning to look up at George. "Let alone my boyfriend," I say softly, admitting what we are aloud for the first time.

George smiles wide and pulls me into his chest. "Finally ready to admit it, huh?" He chuckles, the vibration of it reverberating against my chest as I wrap my arms around his waist.

"Maybe," I shrug and smile looking up into his eyes.

George bites his lip and leans down to my ear, his breath sending pleasurable shivers down my spine as he speaks softly in my ear. "As much as I would love to show you off right now, I need you."

My thighs clench at his words as he pulls back to look into my eyes. "Room of requirement?" I tease.

"That or I take you right here, show everyone who you belong to. But better decide quick, angel."

I chuckle and roll my eyes. "Room of requirement it is."

George leads me through the castle with his hand wrapped tightly around mine, and for the first time, I don't mind giving people a glimpse into my personal life. All of the whispers about George Weasley being with a Slytherin girl roll right off of my back. They don't matter. All that matters right now is getting to where we're going and George blowing my back out.

The door to the room of requirement opens and we walk inside to see the usual lay it that it knows we need.

A bed along the wall, with the silkiest sheets I have ever felt in my life, a small bathroom to clean up in, and a table with a chair. Not really sex up for sex. It appears to be for a student who needs their own room for the night. But it's perfect for what we need it for.

George kisses me as he walks me backward to the bed. The back of my knees hit the bed, and he lifts me up by my thighs without missing a beat. George lays me back on the bed, my head landing on the pillow as he kneels between my thighs.

I moan as George kisses down my jaw, trailing kisses to the sweet spot behind my ear and down my neck, nipping and sucking the tender skin as the blood beneath his lips rushes through my veins.

George props himself up with one arm as his free hand slides up my thigh, gripping it tightly right at the apex. "I've waited so long to make you mine," he groans as my hands work to unbutton his pants between us.

"I was already yours," I breathe as I get his pants undone.

George's fingers slide my panties to the side as he runs his fingers through my folds, landing on my clit and eliciting a moan to leave my lips. "But now everyone knows you belong to me," he moans softly as I pull his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock and pump it in my hand.

"My parents are going to lose their fucking minds," I moan when he inserts two fingers inside of me as his thumb works my clit.

George smirks and leans down to press a kiss to my lips. "Then you can stay with me and mine," he says like a promise. "Let them lose it, I'll be your shield."

I flip us over so I'm straddling his hips, grinding myself down on him. "Careful, Georgie. Or else I might start to think you're in love with me," I tease as I unbutton my shirt and toss it aside.

George sits up, his chest flush with mine as I straddle him. He reaches around me, kissing my chest as he removes my bra. "Would that be such a bad thing, angel?" George teases as he takes one of my nipples in his mouth and starts to suck, nipping the sensitive peak with his teeth.

My head falls back as my fingers run through his hair, pulling him back, and he releases my nipple with a 'pop.' "Only if you don't mean it," I moan softly.

George groans with pleasure. He removes the rest of our clothes with a flick of his wand and impales me on his hard, waiting cock, making me gasp loudly. "Does it feel like I mean it?" He growls, his hand wrapping around to the back of my hair and pulling my head back.

I lift myself up and thrust back down on him, taking him deep inside of me. "Fuck, yes," I moan.

George grips my hip with a bruising force as he works me on top of him. "Then say it. Say you love me," he demands in a husky voice.

"I love you," I moan as he releases his grip on my hair just enough for me to meet his gaze. "Fuck, I love you, George."

George moans as his hand moves from my hair to the back of my neck, pulling me down with him as he lays back and thrusts his hips into mine. "God, I love you, too," he moans. "Such a good girl for me," he groans as his free hand lands on my ass with a hard smack.

I gasp and moan as the sting slowly melts into pleasure, and he does it again. "Yes, George," I pant as he thrusts up into me with a brutal pace.

George flips us, removing his cock from me and diving between my thighs. He throws my legs over his shoulders, and he holds my hips down, and his tongue lands on my clit. "Fuck!" I cry out as my hands grip his hair. "George!"

George uses his fingers to hold my folds apart, opening me up more for him, lapping at my clit with his whole tongue, and shaking his head, threatening to send me right over the edge. My legs clamp around his face, and he moans right onto my clit, adding vibration to top everything else off. The overstimulation is too much, and my fingers tug at his hair, desperate to be free and also not wanting him to stop what he's doing.

"G-G-George!" I cry out with a whimper as my legs start to shake around his head. "Please!"

George grips my thighs from underneath and pushes them up to my chest. "Don't interrupt my meal," he warns me with a dark gaze. "Now keep those fucking legs up."

I hold the metal bedframe above my head with a white-knuckled grip, and George keeps my legs pushed up to my chest. "You wanna cum, angel?" George teases me as he flicks my clit with an annoying soft touch with his tongue.

"Yes, George, please," I beg helplessly as my back arches.

"Then do it. Cum on my face like the good girl you are for me," he taunts before his tongue laps at my clit again. His words and his tongue send me over the edge. My toes curl, and my back and neck arch so far I'm scared they'll break, but I can't bring myself to care if they do.

After George rides me through my orgasm, he leans over me, lines himself up with my entrance, and thrusts into me harshly. "Fuck!" I moan loudly as he leans down to nip at my neck.

"You look so beautiful with my cock buried inside of you," he moans as he holds my thighs. "Think you can cum for me again, angel?"

I shake my head. "I- I can't," I moan pathetically, already feeling another one build. I grips his wrists as his hands hold my thighs up to my chest.

"Mm, I think you can," he teases. He knows I can. He does this every time. It's a game to us, I tell him I can't cum again, and he drags another one out of me. He punctuates with another hard thrust, and I swear I can feel him in my guts with the angle he's fucking me. "Hands on the bedframe," he demands.

I reach above my head, gripping the metal bedframe again. "Such a good girl for me," George moans as he pulls my legs up to rest on his shoulders and leans down, forcing me to take him deeper. "Want me to fill you up, angel?" He teases.

"Yes, fuck, yes!" I moan loudly as he fucks me hard.

"Beg for it," George says sternly, slowing his thrusts to a teasing pace.

I whimper underneath him, keeping my hands above my head. "Please, Georgie. Please fill me with your cum," I beg pathetically, the way he can make me.

"Fuck, I love hearing you beg," George moans as his thrusts quicken again, slamming into me harder.

The tether inside of me begins to fray, ready to snap once again. "George, I'm gonna cum again," I pant with a moan as my eyes roll back.

One of George's hands grips the back of my neck. "Me too, angel. Eyes up, baby," he demands as his thrusts begin to stagger.

My hands leave the bedframe, gripping his arms as he thrusts into me again, and our orgasms hit at the same time. The room a symphony of moans, pants, and a mix of each other's names. Once we ride out our highs, George lays down next to me on the bed, letting out a heavy breath as he pulls me to his side, my head resting on his shoulder. Fuck the last class of the day, and fuck whatever consequences that come from us not being careful as we snuck in here together.

And a big 'fuck you' to my parents if they have anything negative to say when they hear about my relationship. They can get fucked, because I know I will be.

[frenziedfireworks]

Book Exchange

Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary : You read quite a risque book next to your best friend and the next few days are filled with lots of tension.

CW : SMUT, f!reader, 18+ Characters, Praise/Degradation, fingering (f! receiving), breeding kink, possessive!seb (if u squint), lots of teasing & cheesy petnames

A/N : I thought of this idea a few days ago and have been working hard on it LMAO. I love the game and have such bad brainrot - if anyone has requests for the hogwarts legacy characters.. send them my way <3

Sebastian and you had been close for a long time. I mean with everything you two had gone through it was only plausible. He was your rock, best friend, and maybe.. secret crush. He didn’t need to know about that though! Besides, you would never want to ruin what the two of you had. 

“You’re staring. What’s wrong?” Sebastian’s voice took you out of a daydream. You shook your head as the boy raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing. Just was thinking about the potions essay.” Sebastian groaned, throwing his face into the couch pillow.

“Don’t remind me. This is supposed to be our break, you know.” 

He was right. For it being Christmas break it didn’t feel as much. All of your professors were going overboard with the homework as if a few weeks off would make your brain go smooth. You had barely any time to read or venture around with the looming thought of essays.

“It is quite tedious. I don’t get why they continue to add even more work.” 

“Beats me. I think they just like to watch us suffer. Either way, I still don’t like them. I’m taking a nap.” Sebastian adjusted himself over the couch, laying his legs across your lap. You smiled as you rested your hands on his limbs, looking at his relaxed face. He was quite beautiful when he wasn’t talking himself up or making snarky remarks. Not that you would tell him that, you would never hear the end of it. 

‘Does dear Y/N really think I’m beautiful? Am I like your little swan, my love’ 

You shuddered at the thought and rolled your eyes. He would. With this time alone, or more so, without Seb bothering you to death you looked around and took out your book. Nobody would catch you this late and it wouldn’t hurt to read.. It made you nervous thinking about if Sebastian woke up and caught you with such a scandalous book but you couldn’t help yourself. You had always secretly loved dirty literature. You’d go into a quaint bookshop where your friend, Agatha, had a hidden section for women like you. The scandalous and degenerative novels. 

His fingers trailed down her bodice, lips making their way down her neck. Their breaths combined as he yanked at the last remaining garments. 

You held your breath. You knew you were finally getting to the good part.

“Darling, you are ravishing. Look at you, such a smart and pretty girl, open all for me..” His hands circled her neck, pulling her ever closer. “Say it. Go on.” She shuddered at his domineering voice.

“Merlin’s beard.” Sebastian grumbled as he adjusted his back. 

You had almost screamed, shuffling your book into your bag. Sebastian was just as shocked, holding his chest as if he had just had a heart attack.

“I think I’ve just died. What in the world did you jump for?” Sebastian breathed out, hand rubbing at his eyes.

You calmed yourself, rubbing soothing circles into his leg. 

“Sorry. You moving scared me, I was out of it.” You gave him a small smile hoping that he wouldn’t pry anymore in his sleepy state. He just hummed and closed his eyes.

“Right. Try not to jump next time I wake up, yeah?” A half smirk made his way onto his face. You only nodded, continuing to fidget for the next few minutes. Maybe reading improper literature in the halls wasn’t your best idea.

—

It had been a few days since that incident and you and Sebastian were out and about. He had decided that going on a walk would ‘clear your minds’ before going back to the hell that was classwork. You had to admit that seeing his nose and cheeks tinge with a lovely shade of red was worth freezing your ass off. 

“It’s pretty isn’t it?” Sebastian’s voice cut through the silence, his eyes wandering across the fields of snow. It was gorgeous but you couldn’t help but think that your view of him was much more of a sight.

“It is.” You murmured, watching as he turned to meet your eyes. He gave you a small smile, one he reserved for moments like these. The calm and kind Sebastian, the unprotected one that he let almost no one see. You liked this Sebastian. It made you feel special. He let you in to see his vulnerabilities and you felt like you could melt away in them.

“It’s getting late, you know. Wouldn’t want to get in trouble getting back after curfew.” His tall frame ushered behind you and weaved his arm around your chest. His head laid against yours and you swore Medusa had turned you to stone. You took a few slow breaths trying to calm your racing heart and finally spoke.

“A few more minutes couldn’t hurt Seb.”

His lips lingered by your ear and his scent engulfed you.

“Trying to get us in trouble? Such a naughty girl.” 

Your whole body lit up in flames. Sebastian was a flirt but he had never said something so brazen before. There was no way in hell he was doing that on purpose, he had to be trying to get a rise out of you or something.

“Oh shut up. You’re one to talk.” Your voice cracked and suddenly your shoes looked very interesting. 

“Heh. You’re cute when you’re embarrassed. Let’s get back.” Sebastian smacked your back and began walking away without a second word. Your mouth was almost on the ground. You would kill him if he didn’t kill you with his comments first.

—

Things had turned back to normal after your little moment. Well as normal as it could be. The comments he made still lived in the back of your head and got louder as you tried to sleep at night. 

You had tossed and turned in bed for what felt like hours, dirty thoughts of Sebastian plaguing away. His large and calloused hands making their way down your body. His broad chest caging you against the bed as his fingers yanked at your undergarments. God was it insufferable. You finally got up and looked around the room for your bag. You desperately needed release or something to take your mind off the impurities of Sebastian.

Perfect. 

Your hand pulled at your book and you settled down into bed again. It couldn’t hurt to finish the novel and at least there was no prying eyes while you were alone.

—

There was a bang against the door waking you up from your much needed sleep. You raised your head from the comfort of your pillows with a loud groan hoping it was enough to get whoever it was to go away.

“Sebastian has been annoying the shit out of me for hours, Y/N. I cannot take him for much longer and he has been begging for you. Can you please come take care of your boyfriend?” Imelda’s voice echoed through the dorm halls.

“He isn’t my boyfriend!” You moaned as you got up to get dressed. Leave it to Sebastian to keep you up all night and wake you up early.

“Yeah and I’m not good at Quidditch! Just keep him out of my sight!” She barged away, a few profanities leaving her mouth.

You begrudgingly made your way through the halls of the common room to be met with the puppy dog eyes of your best friend.

“Y/N finally! I was starting to think you’d never wake up!” Sebastian automatically took your arm in his and led you over to one of the empty couches.

“Wish I hadn’t. Wouldn’t have to deal with your ugly face then.” Sebastian mocked offense and rolled his eyes.

“Whatever you say. I have a busy day planned for us.” 

The boy went over his need for a few potion ingredients, something about losing a bet with Ominis and how you would accompany him to Hogsmeade. You just nodded along, half asleep as he continued to dawdle. 

“So then when I get that all done- Y/N are you even listening to me?” His hand shook at your form and you rubbed at your eyes.

“Yeah, your potion for Ominis and everything. I got it Seb. Let’s just get it over with.” You stretched and motioned for him to get walking.

“Jeez, someone didn’t sleep well. Nothing a few butterbeers can’t cure though.”

—

Half of the day you spent standing behind as Sebastian bought things. He even went and bought a few new sweaters with your ‘much needed approval’ as he put it. It was quite funny seeing him strike a pose or two whenever he tried on a new outfit. In your mind though Sebastian was handsome enough to pull off a garbage bag if he wanted to.

“Now we can go get those much earned butterbeers.” His cheery disposition made you grin as he tugged you along to the Three Broomsticks. You two quickly made your way over to ‘your table’.

“Oh if it isn’t trouble. I was starting to miss you two.” Sirona plopped down two butterbeers and grinned. “On the house today.” She walked away as you both spouted your thanks and got to drinking.

“Today wasn’t too bad was it?” Sebastian asked.

His hair was a bit askew and his new green sweater made his eyes blend with the caramel color of the drink. He was absolutely breathtaking. 

“Yeah, not too shabby. You like pulling me around?” You joked. Sebastian’s fingers brushed against yours on the table and he sent you a look you had never seen before.

“Oh trust me there’s a few other things I’d like to pull you into.” 

Your mouth went agape and it felt like you had just walked across hot coals. 

“You-” 

Sirona interrupted the two of you with a smack to the table. 

“The two of you best leave, have to close early I’m afraid. One of my dear friends fell ill.”

Your brain had barely processed the words before the two of you were being shooed out the door and Sebastian was walking you back to the castle.

“She was in a rush. I’ve never seen her so concerned. I hope everything will be alright.” Sebastian filled the empty void with words but you couldn’t pay attention. The heat along your core still flamed as you took each step. How much longer was he going to keep up this charade?

—

You were having a major sense of deja-vu. Your eyes circled the drapes of your bed as your thoughts ran wild with Sebastian. Again. A plan had to be made because there was no way you could continue to be in his presence with the comments and tension. Would you tell him your feelings? No. Could you flirt back? Not to save your life. Whatever could you do.. You punched your pillow in defeat and got up looking for your book. You rummaged through your bag when something caught your eye. There was a book in there that hadn’t belonged to you. You brought it into the light and your soul left your body.

It was a scandalous novel. A new one that you had not yet read or bought. You peeled the cover open and a card dropped into your lap.

‘You don’t need to read these sinful books to get what you’re looking for. Although it was quite hot to see you do such a lewd thing right in front of me. You’ve got balls. Enjoy this one, yeah? Maybe we can even act it out once you’re done.’

If it was possible to die of embarrassment you would already be ten feet underground. Sebastian had caught you that night and enjoyed it. Who knew how long he had sat there and watched you squirm as you read the words. Not only that but he had the gall to buy you another and write such a cheeky note. Your body hummed with electricity at the thought of reenacting such stories with Sebastian. 

You had a book to read.

—

You practically ran down the corridor stairs in the morning. You had come up with a perfect plan to corner him in his own game. Your mouth formed into a devious grin as you spotted Sebastian. Slowly, you approached him and ran your finger over the back of his neck. His eyes raised and his cheeks were dusted with a sheen of rose. You gave him a casual smile and sat down.

“Morning Seb. Any plans for today?” You asked as you laid your legs across his lap and stretched your back revealing just a tiny bit of your stomach. His grip on your thighs got just a tad tighter. 

“I-Uh no. You have anything in mind?” 

“Quite a few things actually. You game?” You rubbed at his hand, attempting to connect the dots with his freckles. You could hear his uneven breathing from the other side of the couch and that only fed into your newfound confidence. You tapped against his hand again.

“I said are you game or not?” Your voice commanded and his hues widened like saucers. 

“Of course. When would I not be?” He exasperated and dug his nails harder into your flesh.

“Mm.. good boy. That’s what I thought. Come on then.” You couldn’t help but chuckle as you heard the tiny gasp leave his mouth. It wasn’t even seconds before he was in tow following you like a mother hen.

You cackled silently to yourself when you made your way to the front door of the Great Hall and turned. Sebastian had never looked so confused nor dissatisfied in his life.

“I’m starving!” You made your way down to your usual seats and watched as his sulky attitude got worse. His grip on his poor spoon would soon break it if he wasn’t careful.

“Your plans are to eat? That’s it?” His voice was deep and annoyed, dark eyes following the movement of your lips. Seeing him like this made you uncomfortable. Not in a bad way of course, but more so extremely turned on. 

“Yeah? Like I said I was hungry. Thought we could go out and play gobstones-“

“You think you’re fucking funny?” His grip was suddenly not on the spoon but your shoulder, lips lingering on your ear.

“I think I’m fucking hilarious.” You whispered under your breath. That was obviously the wrong move because he ripped at your shoulder, practically dragging you out of the hall.

“Fucking brat. Think you’re funny. I’ll show you fucking funny.” Sebastian grumbled as he shoveled you down the Undercroft stairs. Your core clenched at his snide remark and part of you hoped that he really was angry. Maybe he would finally stop dancing around the subject of you two.

Sebastian’s hand pushed you against a pillar as the other slammed next to your head. He had perfectly sandwiched you beneath him, his dark eyes watching your every move. 

“Not talking much anymore, are you?” His breath danced against your face, nose nudging against yours.

“Kiss me already.” You groaned and Sebastian took action. His mouth was everywhere at once. Dangerous kisses were pressed against your neck and jawline, his teeth rubbing against the flesh enough to leave red marks. He moved slowly as if you were prey, his eyes watching the way you squirmed under his gaze. 

“You’re lucky I want to kiss you. I wouldn’t be giving you it so easily otherwise.” His face melted into your own, tongue prodding its way into your cavern. His hands roamed your body earnestly pulling at almost anything he could touch. Your whole body was jolting from the little touches, feeling as though he had made you anew. 

“Seb-” You moaned as his hands ran beneath your shirt. It was tantalizing the way he rubbed the plush of your stomach, eyes pleading you to take off the garment. You could only nod in consent before he had thrown it halfway across the room. His hues took your form in, tongue wetting his lips. 

“You’re fucking beautiful. I’m going to ruin you.” His hands worked at the hooks of your bra and he raised an eyebrow in confirmation. You don’t know where the sudden confidence came surging from but you moved his hands and trailed it slowly down your body. Part of you wanted to hide but it was too late for that. He had already seen you and besides, you had been imagining this for quite some time. 

“God. Look at you.” Sebastian shoveled his hair back and dove in. His lips circled your nipple, teeth tugging at it just enough to make you yap. 

“Fuck! Sebastian please.” Your nails dug into his shoulders as he continued to lap and massage your tits. He looked absolutely sinful making eye contact with you from such an angle. 

“Please what? Tell me what you want.” His hand came down to slap your tit and an equally evil grin appeared as he heard your moan. 

“P-Please. Put your hands on me.” Wanton moans passed your lips as he continued to indulge in his pleasures.

“My hands are already on you. See?” You could practically see his ego soaring as he kneaded your breasts. 

“More.” 

“More? Aren’t you demanding?” Sebastian mocked as his fingers trailed your waistband. He pulled at the soft material and danced on a fine line of barely touching you. He was slow and agonizing as he pulled at the buttons of your skirt, continuously glancing to watch your reactions.

“Sebastian, please. I need you.” Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt getting even more agitated by the second. His hands swatted yours away and quickly stripped away the cloth.

“You’re a greedy little thing. I swear I could’ve thought you were teasing me not even ten minutes ago. Now I have you pliant and needy. Should I really give you what you want?”

Your hands splayed against his bare chest and there was nothing more you wanted to do than to be one with him. A sudden primal desire to be as close as humanly possible and feel his muscles convulse against you. You knew that Sebastian wanted to hear you beg and you would give him whatever he wanted.

“Please. I’m begging you. I’ll be good.” You choked back a moan as Sebastian ripped your outfit off at the seams. Your underwear and skirt pulled away in one swift move and his hands rubbed deliciously at your inner thighs.

“Gonna be my good girl, Y/N? Gonna give me what I’ve been craving?” Sebastian hovered his hand over your core for a few seconds to let his words seep in. Your body yearned for his touch and you couldn’t help the way you bucked into him.

“Yes! I’ll be your good girl.” You practically yelled as his fingers finally dipped through your folds. He hummed in response and leaned back in to kiss you. His teasing had come to a stop when you felt his first digit slowly push into your heat.

“Oh fuck!” Your head fell against the pillar and your arms shook against his back. 

“You’re so fucking tight. I can’t wait to be inside of you.” Sebastian began plunging in and out, his pace brutal. You had thanked Merlin that Ominis was busy because you were sure anyone coming near the Undercroft entrance could hear your screams. You could feel the string in your stomach becoming tighter by the second and Sebastian noticed too. He picked up the pace and added another digit making your eyes cross. 

“Who makes you feel like this?” Sebastian grunted as his thumb rubbed at your nub pushing you even closer to the edge. Your hands gripped to his form for dear life as your orgasm finally hit.

“You! Fucking hell. Sebastian, all you!” Your head rested against his shoulder as he continued to pump his fingers in and out to prolong your high. 

He gave you a few seconds before withdrawing his fingers and bringing them up to his lips. If you hadn’t just came you were sure you would’ve from the sight alone. 

“You’re ridiculous.” You whispered as he pushed his boxers down and his hard cock slapped against his stomach. The sight alone made you drool. 

“It’s all your fault.” Sebastian chuckled and swiped his fingers across your slit. You jolted in his hold and watched him in a trance as he used your slick to pump his cock. You had never seen a more erotic view in your life.

“I’m gonna fuck the life out of you now. Okay?” Sebastian’s words knocked any air out of your lungs. He was so vulgar and yet you felt yourself convulsing around nothing, wishing for nothing more than to be pummeled by the man.

A small please passed your lips before he was frenzied. He snapped his hips into yours, not even waiting for you to adjust as he got to work. It felt as if you were a rag doll being thrown around with the animalistic pace he set. Every spot within you was on fire and if it kept it up you would explode.

“F-Fuck Seb! So good.” Your back knocked against the pillar as he groaned.

“Fuck yeah. Only I can make you feel like this.” His grip was sure to leave bruises. Not that you really minded. If anything it only added to your pleasure.

“I can feel you tightening princess. Is the little slut gonna cum again?” His wicked words made you gasp and lose your composure. Your body shook as you came, Sebastian still impaling you on his cock in search for his high. You could tell he was close from his unintelligible groans and praises.

“Fuck! Good girl. Take it.” Sebastian’s dark eyes closed shut as he leaned his head onto you. His hot seed filled you up and the only sound in the room was your heavy breathing.

Sebastian pulled out of your wet heat, both of you whining in the process. His eyes shot up to yours and he grinned.

“That was so fucking good. I’ve wanted that for so long.” 

You could only laugh and nod in agreement.

“Me too. Does that mean we’re done with the charade of being best friends?” You looked around the room for your top as he hummed.

“Yeah. Reckon my girlfriend deserves a proper date now.”

“I would sure hope so after getting my brains fucked out!” 

Laughter filled the Undercroft as the two of you redressed. Maybe you would read more dirty literature in the halls if it led to this.

[fangweaver2099]

𝐅 𝐀 𝐖 𝐍 𝐓 𝐄 𝐄 𝐓 𝐇 - Prologue pt 1

MINORS DNI 18+ FIC

You’ve always liked the idea of having a dominant partner - BDSM was something you’ve read about, watched videos about.

Something you made Pinterest boards and aesthetic tumblr posts about when you were 18 and curious, the idea always sounded nice, but you’ve never done it in practice, not really. Sure you bought fuzzy handcuffs at a gag gift store once, but that didn’t really count.

You’re still a virgin.

You’ve always had that chronically awkward, workaholic type of vibe that made typical dating near impossible at worst and frustrating at best. Normal dating apps have proven fruitless and agitating. So poor curious little you talked yourself into making a fetlife account. You weren’t looking for true love, but at least you could get laid.

DM Request from: 10:13 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Hello, Fawn.”

College was for new experiences after all.

CW: BDSM heavy/centric fic. Safe, Sane & Consensual. Miguel is your professor, but you both don't know that. Age Gap (Y/N is 23, Miguel is mid 30's)

PART 2

DM Request from: 10:13 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Hello, Fawn.” 

You squint at the request - you can see his icon is his torso.

You knew you had to snoop - be careful. The classic teen girl not wanting to be abducted shit. His skin was tanned - pale palms and even skintone told you he wasn’t a white guy. NYC was a melting pot - so you weren’t about to think too hard about it. You scroll through his writings. Most were boring and formal. You debate reading over the ‘contract template’ he had posted but decide against it.

His pictures are, mostly, not entirely him. A few torso shots showing off dark hair and abs - or more casual showing off a normal looking body of a dude who clearly worked out. The others are a few different women in different states of undress smothered in bondage ropes, always a bright red. The one that intrigues you the most again has the face censored by a black bar, but she’s hung upside down against the wall, diamonds of rope on her thighs as she’s suspended before red rope that was weaved into a massive spider web. He was a fan of spiders - the user name made sense.

The photos were old, from 2016 at the newest. The photos of him were new - posted just 6 months ago.

His wall was what told a touch of his story. You scroll down dozens of posts, women and men acting friendly or asking to meet up again. You wonder if he used to be a community person, the anon nature of his account was new? Could you check on the wayback machine? 

You tab back into his chat.

“hey. are you really 6’9? ” - Fawnteeth - 10:19 PM

 10:19 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You think I’d lie about that?”  

“maybe. I know a lot of guys who lie about their height, I’m tall enough to tell.” - Fawnteeth - 10:20 PM

 10:20 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Smart to ask. Yes, I am really 6’9”. Is height a big seller for you?”  

“when you’re a tall woman, it is.” - Fawnteeth - 10:20 PM

 10:21 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “You want me to make you feel small. Noted.”

“what had you messaging me? you seem popular.” - Fawnteeth - 10:21 PM

 10:22 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I’ve been in the scene for a long time, made my way around. Your interests line up and you seem at least somewhat concerned about your own anonymity.”  

“here I thought you’d say you found me pretty.” - Fawnteeth - 10:22 PM

 10:22 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Shallow compliments hardly get us anywhere. Besides, that’s a given.”  

“well, thank you anyway. need to keep this and my personal life separate, like you I see.” - Fawnteeth - 10:23 PM

 10:24 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ “We all have our secrets and reasons to keep them.”  

“serial killer sorta secrets?” - Fawnteeth - 10:24 PM

“I’m kidding.” - Fawnteeth - 10:24 PM

 10:24 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Would you believe me if I said no?”  

“I can try. it’s not like you’re a blank profile, web.” - Fawnteeth - 10:25 PM

 10:26 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Maybe you shouldn’t. Things like that are easy to fake. You’re clearly trying to keep a secret, which means if I met up with you no one would know where you went. Would be a good tactic if  I was preying on little girls.”

You stare at his message for a moment, forcing in a quick breath you sit up as your bed creaks. Okay, time to take things a bit more seriously.

“Good thing I’m not a little girl. I do appreciate the concern, it’s attractive.” - Fawnteeth - 10:27 PM

 10:27 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Lot’s of untrustworthy people on sites like this. Ones that will lull you into a sense of security.”  

“Trust me, I’m well aware. You think I should be afraid of you?” - Fawnteeth - 10:27 PM

 10:28 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Yes. You can’t trust me right away.”

“Well, I like the honesty. I don’t think I have any plans to meet up with anyone soon - not even you.” - Fawnteeth - 10:30 PM

 10:30 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Of course you don’t. You’re new at this.”

“Did I really give it away that quickly?” - Fawnteeth - 10:31 PM

 10:31 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Yes.”

You stare at the screen for a long moment, eyes wide. How the hell do you reply to that? Is he ending the conversation? Did you already fuck things up? At this point, most men would be falling over themselves to impress you, not making you feel intimidated . You feel your core throb as you click back to his profile, scrolling over dozens of comments on his wall from years ago - the fact is, his profile spans back years. Longer. He’s experienced, and… he isn’t wrong, either. 

“Is that a problem? I hope it isn’t. You’re the first dude who hasn’t asked me for nudes yet.” - Fawnteeth - 10:32 PM

 10:34 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “No. You should be more careful though, me explaining that and this is something you should be suspicious of. Wanting to ‘protect’ you because you’re young and need to be taught the ropes, so to speak.”  

“Got it, Sir.” - Fawnteeth - 10:34 PM

“Wait, can I call you that?” - Fawnteeth - 10:34 PM

You cringe, placing the laptop on the bed for a moment. Shit - you’ve already messed up.

 10:35 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “That’s acceptable. If you ever call me ‘Daddy’ however I will block you.”  

 10:35 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “That’s not a joke.” 

You open your eyes, glancing over at the chat and his two messages. Raising a brow, you lean in, shifting the laptop back into your lap. 

“Understood. Not my thing.” - Fawnteeth - 10:35 PM

 10:36 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “What is your thing, Fawn?”

“Well… I like giving up control… Feeling like prey. I’ve always loved deer, something about being so fiercely defenseless as a fawn in a wolf’s maw is thrilling.” - Fawnteeth - 10:37 PM

 10:37 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “No wonder you brushed over the red flags.”

“Maybe.The whole giving up control is why most submissives are here, aren’t they?” - Fawnteeth  - 10:38 PM

 10:40 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “The illusion of giving up control. Any good dominant knows the submissive is the one with the power. Safe words, limits, contracts - it all relies on knowing they can end things whenever they want to explore it safely.”  

“Of course.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:40 PM

 10:40 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Of course? So you have those things ready for me?”  

“ Safe words and how I prefer them - yes. Limits, I think so. Contract - no. ” - Fawnteeth  - 10:40 PM

 10:42PM - WebRigger2099 -   “I need one for slow down/ease up and one for an immediate stop. I also need a physical sign if you are unable to say your safe words. Please list them.”  

 10:43 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “Send me 4 lists: Favorites, Yes, Maybe, and No not ever. Include everything you can think of. If you do not include something that I am interested in I will ask about it and we will consider it a maybe until you’ve had time to consider it and possibly research.”

 10:43 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “You will not need a premade contract. I have a basic format we can edit to our needs. If it goes that far.”  

“Is the green, yellow, red method good with you?” - Fawnteeth  - 10:44 PM

 10:44 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Yes.”

“That’s good.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:44 PM

“...And I'll get you the other things - do you have any hard nos I should know of?” - Fawnteeth  - 10:44 PM

10:45 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Send me yours and we’ll go from there.”  

“Okay.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:45 PM

You take your time in a Google document, carefully considering your late-night Archive Of Our Own feed. Anxiety tells you to rush, but you get the energy that Web isn’t the kind of guy who wants you to rush.

“ Will you click links? Google Docs. ” - Fawnteeth  - 10:55 PM

 10:55 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ I applaud you if you somehow hack me from a google docs link. I have a very good firewall as a warning. ” 

You couldn’t help but grin at his reply - you’re charmed by him. Oh no.

“I’d figure as much. Here.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:57 PM

“ [Google Docs Link] “ - Fawnteeth  - 10:57 PM

 10:57 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I’ll ask specifics soon but I want to be clear about this - I want something in person, but that is not on the table until the end of the summer. I have obligations. If that is a problem I don’t want to waste your time.” 

“That’s fine. I know we’re both in NYC. I’m kinda glad as I don’t think I’m ready to meet up soon anyway.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:57 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Gives us time to get to know each other and learn expectations.

“Then it sounds like we’re on the same page.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:58 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Good. Due to this being a distance-based arrangement for the time being I cannot touch you myself; Have you heard of a lovense?”

“I have. Aren’t those expensive?”   - Fawnteeth  - 10:58 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Money isn’t a concern for me, and anything I get you is a gift. The only expectation is to use whatever I provide. Acceptable?”

“Yes. I don’t take pictures or videos with my face in them.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:58 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I noticed.”

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Neither do I. That isn’t a problem.” 

“Glad to hear that.” -   Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

“...So…”   - Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

 10:59 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “Your list says nothing about exhibitionism. If I were to tell you to wear your lovense during the day would that be acceptable?”

For a moment you stare at his message. Now that you’re not under your father’s roof, you have free reign to do whatever, and it’s honestly not like your roommates haven’t done weirder, less appropriate shit in far more public spaces. 

“That’s fine as long as I’m not visiting family. I live somewhere else.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

 10:59 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ You say you like roleplay. Are there specific scenarios you’re interested in?”

“Do you know what dead by daylight is?” -  Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I can’t say I do.”

“...Well. I wasn’t joking about the idea of enjoying being hunted. I guess. Kinda embarrassing to admit to a stranger.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:00 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “Does that embarrassment excite you, Fawn?”

“Maybe.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:00 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “I expect yes or no answers. If you’re not sure say so.”

“Yes, then.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:00 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Good girl. What do you want me to do when I catch you?”

There’s no hesitation, no doubt in the message. What do you want when I catch you. Not would you want, not if I caught you. When. You can’t help but squirm. For a moment, you consider pacing your tiny, cluttered bedroom.

“Is whatever you want the wrong answer?”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:01 PM

“I might be new, but I think I’m kinda open. I want to please, I suppose.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:01 PM

 11:01 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ Not at all a wrong answer.”

 11:02 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Have you ever been spanked before? You said it was a favorite.”

“Yes.” - Fawnteeth - 11:02 PM

You bite your lip - it technically isn’t a lie. You have been spanked - just… not sexually. It’s fine .

 11:02 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Would you be willing to use a paddle, crop or belt in my absence if I believe you need punishment?”

“I’m not sure. I have a very high pain tolerance, but I don’t live alone, sound is a concern.”   - Fawnteeth - 11:02 PM

 11:03 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Not a problem. Making a small list for a care package if you show me potential is all.” 

“Well, what can I do to impress you, Sir?”  - Fawnteeth  - 11:03 PM

“I don’t mind homework, for lack of a better word.”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:03 PM

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Eager, aren’t you? I’m not done.”

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Dirty talking. What are your limits, and do you have a specific pet name you want me to use?”

“I like Fawn, obviously. Affectionate things, I think it’s better figuring it out organically. Feels more genuine.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:04 PM

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “And no humiliation.”

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ Understood.”

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I have rules. It’s better that I tell you about them early. They’ve scared most people off.”

“ Well. I won’t pass judgment immediately.” - Fawnteeth - 11:05 PM

“I don’t cut my hair.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:05 PM

 11:05 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “I would be disappointed if you did. Speaking of, I only allow my submissive to trim their pubic hair for one, no shaving it.” 

“That’s fine with me. I haven’t shaved anything in a while.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:05 PM

 11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ If you are going to be unavailable for more than a few hours I expect an explanation so I know you are safe. I don’t allow my partners to go to clubs or bars without me either. If this becomes serious I expect you to download a location tracking app so I know where you are at all times.”

“Okay. That’s fine. I don’t go out much.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:06 PM

 11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I am not polyamorous. If you want to be mine you are only mine, and I will hold myself to the same standard.”

“That’s fine with me. I have been talking to someone else, but about as much as you at this point. Honesty and all that stuff.”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:06 PM

 11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I don’t let things I own go into disrepair; You will take care of yourself and report what you don’t complete. Punishments will be given if you do not complete these tasks.”

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “The basic daily requirements are the following: Three meals a day, showering every day, an hour of exercise and a consistent bedtime during weekdays.”

“Okay. Did this really scare people off?” - Fawnteeth  - 11:07 PM

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 - “People have called me controlling. It sounds like you want to surrender your control though.” 

“Not wrong.” - Fawnteeth   - 11:07 PM

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ You’re not hard to read.”

“I’ll try and take it as a compliment.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:07 PM

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Deception and confusion are a waste of time. Own it.”  

“I’ll try my best. I’m used to being considered odd.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:08 PM

 11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Are you?”

“I’m on fetlife. So, yes.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:08 PM

 11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I suppose.”

 11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ We already established you’re new to this. Will I be your first dominant?”

“Yes. Not my first partner.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:08 PM

 11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ Were they not interested in this?”

“I never brought it up to them. I don’t really want romance right now.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:09 PM

 11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “And if you fall for me?”

“I’d rather talk about it then, I suppose. I don’t get the vibe from you that you’re looking for romance, just a pet.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:09 PM

 11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Good, and no, not right now.”

“But you think I’ll fall in love with you?” - Fawnteeth  - 11:09 PM

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You’re young and inexperienced. Maybe you will, maybe you won’t.” 

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ My last important rule - no drugs, limited alcohol. If you drink you must have friends with you that are reliable or myself. Drinking and doing drugs is just asking to put yourself in a vulnerable situation. It’s a precaution some have complained about.” 

With how much he spoke of other people not liking his rules it was almost like he was trying to talk you out of it.

“That’s fine. I celebrated my 21st by watching movies.”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:10 PM

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “What movies?”  

“Midsommar, it’s my favorite. Silence of the lambs too. Roomies insisted on watching Barbie after that. lol ” - Fawnteeth  - 11:10 PM

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ You like horror.”

“Yes. I thought the ghostface poster in my 3rd photo gave it away.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:11 PM

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “And you’d like him or some other violent thing to chase you down and do whatever they wanted with you instead of killing you.”

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “It must make watching movies with a group tense if that’s what is going through your mind.” 

“I won’t say it doesn’t.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:11 PM

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Let me guess: some part of you likes the discomfort?” 

“Honestly. I haven’t thought about it. Probably.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:11 PM

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I think you’d like to walk around with a lovense in you, never knowing when I might turn it on or increase the settings. You enjoy suspense.”

“ It’s appealing, yeah.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:12 PM

You sit back on your bed, propping up the laptop with your pillows. Why did you love that this guy was reading you like an open book? You take in a deep breath, remember - play it cool.

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - “What do you want out of all of this?” 

“My first thought is sex - but also to learn myself a bit more, I guess. Explore something with a partner I can trust… Please someone, feel better about myself. Like I said - I’m a tall woman, it doesn’t exactly make you feel pretty.”  - Fawnteeth  - 11:12 PM

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - "Okay, sounds good."  

You bite your lip, reading over the message on your dimly lit phone screen over and over again. Curling up tighter into the cotton blanket on your bed, you exhale, the cheap mattress creaking underneath you. You flinch, eyes flickering towards the shut door of your bedroom. Your heart flutters in your chest for a few moments until silence rings in your ears. 

You haven’t woken up any of your roommates.Thank god. 

Sighing, you turn your attention back to your phone, looking over the message again.

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - "Okay, sounds good." 

Usually men are more expressive in their text speech when it comes to you - to the extent that some even make you uncomfortable. But WebRigger2099… is very much not . You’ve dubbed him 'Web' in your head, easy enough with his username. 

Web is formal, speaks with proper punctuation and never a single spelling mistake or emote. He’s direct, not flowery or soft in any way. But… you kind of like that. Direct is easy. There’s no guessing games with instructions and meanings laid out plainly.

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 -“ You are very pretty, by the way. ” 

You blush.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Flower Crowns.

masterlist || ask my anything <3

anniversary masterlist here !!

authors note - hi!! this is the last post ill be doing for my anniversary week and this is one of my most favourite little one shots ive wrote in my opinion so i hope you enjoy, it’s a little bit dark so if that’s not your cuppa then feel free to skidadle ☺️

word count - 1k

in which, harrys your body guard because your father is a mafia boss and instead of him taking a bullet for you, you end up taking a bullet for him.

warnings - mentions of guns and shooting, mafia, vulgar language and blood.

With your books hugged close to your chest and your backpack thrown over one shoulder, The campus is bustling with students, the energy vibrant and contagious. You and your best friend Rayleigh chat animatedly, caught up in the ease of your conversation.

"I can't believe Professor Thompson assigned us another case study," Rayleigh groans, rolling her eyes. "Does he think we have no other classes?"

You laugh, adjusting your grip on your books. "I know, right? As if we didn't already have enough on our plates. But I guess it's good practice."

Rayleigh nods in agreement, her expression softening. "Yeah, you're right. Still, it's going to be a long night. Coffee later?"

"Absolutely," you reply, grinning. "I wouldn't survive without our study sessions."

As you walk through the corridors, you spot Harry leaning casually against your locker. His presence is striking, a mix of calm and vigilance that makes him stand out from the crowd. He's dressed in a plain black T-shirt and jeans, his tattooed arms crossed over his chest.

"There's your shadow," Rayleigh teases, nudging you gently.

You chuckle, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and amusement.

Rayleigh gives you a quick hug. "See you later."

"Bye, Ray," you say, waving as she heads off.

You approach your locker, where Harry straightens up as you get closer.

"Hey," you greet him, opening your locker and starting to put your things away.

"Hey," Harry replies, his voice steady and calm. "How was class?"

"Busy, as usual," you say, glancing over at him. "Professor Thompson assigned us another case study. I'm starting to think he enjoys watching us suffer."

Harry chuckles softly. "Sounds intense. Y’handling it okay?"

"Yeah, it's all part of the deal," you shrug, organizing your books. "How about you? How's standing guard duty treating you?"

He smirks. "S’a bit different from m’usual assignments, but I don't mind. Keeps me on my toes."

You finish putting your things away and close your locker, turning to face him fully. "I appreciate it, you know. Having you around makes me feel a lot safer."

Harry's expression softens slightly. "S’the goal. M’here to make sure nothing happens to you."

You nod, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence. "Thanks, H. It means a lot."

He nods in return, his gaze steady and reassuring. "Anytime. Ready to head home?"

As you walk towards your car, chatting with Harry about inconsequential things, a sense of normalcy begins to settle over you. The campus is still busy, students milling around, completely unaware of the tension that shadows your every step.

Suddenly, you notice a red dot flickering on Harry's chest. Your heart stops. Your mind races, realizing the implications—someone knows Harry is protecting you, and taking him out would make it easier for them to get to you.

Without a second thought, you push Harry out of the way. "Harry, look out!"

A gunshot rings out, splitting the air, and you feel a searing pain in your shoulder. You scream, falling to the ground in front of him.

The world spins as you hit the pavement, agony spreading through your body. Students around you scream and scatter, the chaos erupting in the once peaceful campus.

Harry is at your side in an instant, his face a mask of panic and horror.

"No, no, what have you done?" he cries, crouching down next to you. "Silly, silly girl."

A tear slips down his cheek, and your heart aches at the sight. You've never seen him cry before, not once in all the time you've known him. The anguish in his eyes is almost too much to bear.

You manage to smile weakly through the pain. "Harry... you're too pretty to cry."

"And you're too pretty to die," he replies, his voice breaking. "S’was never supposed to happen. S’my job to protect you."

He presses down on your wound, trying to stop the bleeding, his hands shaking. "Everything is going to be fine. Just hold on, help is coming."

You focus on Harry’s face, seeing the raw emotion and determination in his eyes.

"Promise me….you'll be careful," you manage to say, your voice barely audible.

"M’promise," he says fiercely, more tears falling. "But y’have to promise me you'll fight. Fight to stay with me."

You nod weakly, using every bit of strength you have left. "I'll... fight."

As the world around you blurs and fades, Harry’s face is the last thing you see, filled with raw, heartbreaking emotion. He leans closer, his voice trembling.

"I love you," he whispers, his words like a lifeline pulling you back from the brink.

Love.

You had always loved Harry, you can’t pinpoint a time when you first felt it, perhaps it was when you first met him, or when your lips first connected to his, but it was a feeling you had always felt and always would feel.

"I... love you too," you whisper back, your voice barely more than a breath. The pain is overwhelming, and you can feel yourself slipping away.

"Tell my father..." you start, struggling to get the words out. "Tell him I want a flower crown... when I'm buried."

Flower crowns had always been your thing, your mother had taught you how to make them when you were little and your father always had one in his office, as a reminder of both you at her.

His girls.

They were a symbol of your family.

Like a family crest.

Harry shakes his head fiercely, more tears spilling down his cheeks. "You're not going to get buried because you and I are going to get married and live forever. We'll have babies and grow old together."

You manage a faint smile at his words, the thought of a future with him a beautiful distraction from the pain. "Harry..."

"Stay with me," he pleads, his voice raw with emotion. "Keep your eyes open. Don't you dare close them."

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Monkey Business

Thanks for the Ask, Fetifiction

I heard you've got a crush on your gym buddy. You said his name was Amir, right? I know you like his personality or whatever, but he's not exactly your type. Is he? So, I sent you some experimental protein powder. It's called Ape Mode. Slip some of that in his drink...I think you'll like what happens...

"Oh, hey dude," Amir gives a friendly nod, "I almost thought you weren't coming. Did that professor hold class after the bell again?"

"Yup!" your voice shakes as you answer.

It's a lie. You just spent the last twenty minutes trying to spike his sports drink in the locker room. It was hard enough to find the damn thing, but you had to make sure it was definitely his. Luckily, his gym bag is bright yellow. It's pretty hard to miss, so the half empty bottle sitting next to it had to be his.

"He's a real douchebag," your friend complains, "Come on. I just started stretching."

Nervously, you sit beside Amir and try to keep up with his stretches. He asks you about your day and wonders if you need to vent about school. You just shake your head. Amir's caring personality is the best thing about him, but it's also making you feel really guilty for lying to him. Hopefully, that powder doesn't screw him up!

Amir ends the warmup and climbs to his feet. You watch as your best friend walks over to the locker room and pulls out his drink: the one you spiked. For a brief moment, you feel a flash of regret and almost shout out for him to stop, but it's already too late. The moment has passed. Amir is gulping down the entire contents of his bottle. All you can do is stare at him and wait.

"You good, dude?" Amir asks, snapping you out of your daze.

"Yup! Totally...um... let's workout!"

Amir claps you on the back and heads over to a treadmill. The guy is always doing cardio, leaving him thin and nimble, but you'd rather he looked a different way. You want to see him big and brawny like the man of your dreams. Hopefully, by the end of this workout, he will.

It's hard to act normal, but you swallow your anxiety and walk over to a weight machine. It's in the perfect spot to keep an eye on Amir. You want to know as soon as the changes start happening. A small part of you still doubts whether or not Ape Mode will actually work.

30 minutes later...

"Dude, I don't know what's happening! I was just running on the treadmill like normal, but..." he glances down at his swollen arms in disbelief, "well look at me!"

"I don't know either," you tell him with your most convincing voice, "but you look great!"

Amir takes another look down at his biceps. They've easily expanded to twice the size they used to be, but that's not the only thing that's changed. You've been staring at him on the treadmill for the last half hour. His whole body seemed to expand! His thighs thickened and his shoulders broadened. You think he even got taller! Not to mention the dense layer of stubble that's sprouted all over Amir's face.

He hasn't seemed to notice it all yet, but every part of his body seems to have shifted in some way! Seeing your friend transform into your wet dream is a lot more stressful than you imagined. You might be hiding a raging boner, but you're still worried about what will happen when Amir looks in a mirror. What if he doesn't like the new him? You wonder for a second if you should just come clean and tell him about the powder.

Amir flexes his arm, staring at his bulging bicep with a worried look, "I don't know, dude. Should I be worried?"

You look into your friend's vulnerable eyes, "Nope! Let's just get back to our workout."

Amir nods and lowers his tense shoulders. He trusts your judgement and brushes off his concerns. You watch with a mixture of guilt and excitement as Amir saunters back to the treadmill. His ass has even filled out, too!

"Dude!" a deep voice moans behind you.

"Woah!" your jaw drops at the site of Amir. His voice has lowered several octaves to the point where you couldn't even recognize it. His appearance is just as drastically different. The big hairy man standing before you looks only vaguely like the friend you know and love.

"What, is it bad? I don't feel good..." Amir groans, "Buh-UUuurrrp!” A low gutteral belch voices out of his stomach.

You don't know how to react. His transformation is progressing wildly, and you're almost too turned on to comfort him!

"I was just running, but my steps just kept feeling heavier, and I was feeling itchy all over, and my shirt is pinching me, and..." he trails off as he scratches his gut absent-mindedly.

It looks like he's gained sixty pounds, so it's no wonder that his shirt is feeling tight! Some of that weight isnt muscle, either. Amir has a bit of a gut, now, and with his shirt soaked in sweat, you can see how hairy his new chest is. His entire body seems to be sprouting fur like he's some kind of animal!

"Don't worry about it," you say, grabbing Amir's hand in an effort to calm him down. You might as well commit to his transformation at this point! It's obviously working!

"But, I'm so fat and hairy," he grunts slowly, "And I can't move ten inches without sweating like a pig!" his stomach growls before his bubbling up his chest, "Buur…brrruUuUUUP!”

"Hey these changes are normal, big guy," you pat him on his big meaty back, "I like the new Amir."

Amir frowns and rips his hand away from yours. Before you know it, he's stomping back over to the treadmill with heavy steps that shake the floor. He seems to have a little less patience than he used to. Maybe he's just frustrated by all the changes?

"Amir can we go now?" you ask for the third time in a row, "You've been staring at yourself in that mirror for an hour now!"

He doesn't seem to hear you. Amir has packed on so much fat, muscle, and hair that he looks completely unrecognizable. He almost seems more like he's an animal than your old friend.

He's been watching the final touches of his transformation take place in his new form, only pausing to occasionally scratch his ass or sniff his pits. Of course, the entire gym is giving him angry looks. A cloud of strong BO is wafting off of him, and it doesn't help that he keeps burping and farting loud enough for everyone to hear. Amir seems totally oblivious to how uncomfortable he's making everyone, so you're left to feel all the social awkwardness.

"Amir, come on," you tenderly grab his hairy forearm.

"GrrrUH!" Amir growls and rips his arm away again.

You roll your eyes and shake your head. You wanted Amir to look like a hairy beast, not act like one! How the hell are you supposed to get him out of here, let alone fall in love with you? He's acting like a big stupid caveman!

Feeling defeated, you stumble over to the locker room. If your going to leave, you at least want something to cover the tent in your shorts. Amir's bright yellow backpack would never fit on his massive frame anymore. He probably couldn't even remember how to put it on. With a sigh, you pick the thing up hold it close to your waist.

"MmnNanna?" a curious grunt comes as you reenter the gym. Amir, the huge hairy beast is staring at the yellow backpack with hungry eyes. "Nanna," he growls more definitively.

"You want a banana?" you ask gingerly.

"Mmmmngh!" he nods emphatically, licking his lips.

This is yellow backpack must be your ticket to controlling him! "Follow me," you smile, finally understanding how this beast of a man.

With lumbering steps, Amir stumbles behind you. It's a good thing he's hot, because he's lost all the intelligence he'd had before. All you had to do was say the word banana and now he's following you out to the car, drooling the entire way. You can't help but chuckle at your gigantic friend following behind you like a big dumb animal.

In the car, you toss the yellow bag as far back as you can. All three hundred pounds of Amir jumps inside and you slam the door shut behind him. Now you just have to get the guy home with him getting too angry.

"BuuuUughHnnannNnaAH!" he bellows, beating his chest with wild fury.

"Ok, ok! I'll go buy a damn banana."

"Nnngh!" Amir clenches your wrist before you can get out of the car. "...nanna!" he grunts, staring at your crotch like it's his first meal in weeks.

"Oh," you gasp. You didn't know he meant that banana. Amir's transformation might not have been what you expected, but you couldn't deny that you were enjoying your new friend. This is going to be an interesting car ride...

[ennabear]

professor!abby hcs 😸

daily click | boycott tlou

as i’ve said before, if you have time to read this, you have time to help palestine in whatever ways are possible for you. do your daily click, sign a few petitions, boycott zionist companies, and donate if you can. there are so many amazing resources on tumblr, please please utilize them.

one thing about professor!abby is that she goes crazyyy when it comes to buying more books. her ideal date is strolling around a bookstore together, however, these dates always end with her buying a hundred dollars worth of books.

every single time you let that woman walk into a book store, it’s like you have to keep her on a leash. yes, abby, you can get that one. no, abby, we don’t have bookshelf room for a whole series. she’s unstoppable, she’s like a fat kid in a candy store. but she’s so adorable!!!

her goodreads account is insaneee!!! some of her students follow her, of course. she writes entire in depth reviews about EVERY book she reads. in fact, her favorite part about finishing a book is writing a goodreads review. and you best believe she updates her reading progress every night.

and she’s never not reading a book. she doesn’t prefer to carry a purse or a bag, but she’ll gladly put her book in your bag whenever you go out. she reads EVERYWHERE. at a dinner party? she’s reading. her best friend’s birthday party? she’s reading. at the gay club? reading. and she claims that it’s not rude because “everybody knows i read a lot. if anyone has a problem with it, maybe they’re just not a real friend!!”

she’s a little bit of a coffee freak. a surprising amount of her money goes to buying the most expensive and exotic coffee grounds she can get. there’s nothing she loves more than waking up to you making her coffee before work. sometimes, if she’s feeling extra emotional, she’ll hold your face in her hands and tell you how much she loves you while tearing up. what a big baby she is!!

our girl definitely has anxiety problems. if she ever has to leave the house without you, she’ll text you every 10 minutes asking for advice and reassurance. she trusts you so much, though. your advice is all she’s ever needed.

adding on to the last one, she’s a teeny bit insecure too. her past relationships absolutely wrecked her twenties and she never bothered to start dating again after that. sometimes she thinks she’s too old and unloveable for you, but she’s just being silly. she’s our little kitten princess and she deserves the whole entire world!!!!

on a more positive note, she loves the outdoors. sometimes she’ll wake you up before sun rises and force you to go hiking with her. no matter how much you complain, she knows you still like spending time with her, and the sunrise is always beautiful from her favorite spot.

i think before she became a college professor, she had to student-teach for 3 years, starting with first grade. imagine miss abby with baby muscles going over the spelling bee words with her littles, or playing tag with them at recess. miss abby was definitely their favorite, and a few of her students cried on her last day.

but i don’t think she’d want her own kids, just a dog is fine. it’s too much of a responsibility for her and she wants to dedicate all of her time and energy to you. but she does have a few nieces and nephews from her adopted sister, yara. and she’d be more than happy to babysit.

as much as she loves reading, she likes it more when you read to her. especially because most of the time, she’s exhausted from being awake and grading assignments for so long. so she likes to lay her head on your chest while you read to her, even if you have no idea what’s going on in the book.

watching movies with her is an absolute nightmare. if there was a book version, she’ll keep whispering “god… that’s not what happened in the book.” and then afterwards, she’ll explain everything they changed (aka did wrong) and why the book was so much better.

she definitely has a pair of reading glasses. i don’t think she uses them all the time but sometimes when she’s tired and just wants to read, she’ll use them because they make it easier for her to see the words through her sleepy eyes.

sometimes she so sleepy that she falls asleep while reading. it’s your job to take her book out of her hands and place her bookmark in it before it falls on the floor. on more than one occasion, she’s woken up at 2am to her book face down on the floor, no bookmark, with your head snuggled into her neck. it makes her a little bit grumpy because now, poor poor sleepy abigail has to decide between searching through all of the pages to find the one she was reading last, or taking her girl to bed and tucking her in. such a tough decision!!!

[esamastation]

Shizuroth, part five.

-

Sephiroth looks panicked. 

Genesis looks him over with an experienced eye, swiftly and with increasing concern.

Defensive stance with his back to a wall and the Restroom's only exit clear in sight. His face is pale - well, it's always pale, but now he looks practically grey. Shadows under his eyes, wide eyes, mouth slack. Well, for Sephiroth, anyway. The man has a resting face of a statue carved by the thirstiest of hands, and sometimes Genesis wonders if he has a partial facial paralysis, so little does it change. But he can tell the difference between Sephiroth with a resting face and Sephiroth with a spooked face.

"Sephiroth," Genesis greets him.

"... Genesis," Sephiroth says, and it doesn't sound even vaguely irritated. Mostly he sounds confused.

How concerning!

Side effects, then, bad ones. He'd managed to get out of Injections without being held back, so they're not physical. Mental.

No outward aggression, his pose is subtly defensive, shoulders ever so slightly curled in, holding his PHS in both hands. Was he messaging someone? Unlikely, with Sephiroth, he must've been reading something, trying to distract himself, misdirect whatever is going on in his head. Or…

Or it's that… other side effect.

Genesis had been gearing up to annoy Sephiroth back into sanity, but with this new information he quickly changes tacks. Sephiroth isn't about to lose it - he already did. "I heard you were locked up in injections for a full day. How bad was it?"

Sephiroth hesitates and his fingers tighten around the phone. Then he looks down. Demurely?

What?

"Three times the maximum dose," Sephiroth says.

Oh. "What, are they trying to kill you now?" Genesis asks incredulously. "See how far they can push the envelope before it bursts into flames? Questionable indeed is the wisdom of a professor, by the Goddess." Sephiroth's doses are already the highest in the program.

Sephiroth looks at him weirdly. "... Well, my heart did stop," he says finally. "Apparently."

Genesis makes a face. "Condolences," he says, wincing sympathetically. That was always the worst. "What's the damage?"

"I'm fine," Sephiroth says quickly.

"Ha! My friend, legend shall speak of this day," Genesis points out, motioning around them, at the restroom. "Of the greatest warrior - holed up post-op in the Restroom. You scared the poor Third Class who was here, he sent out an SOS."

Sephiroth scrunches up his nose at that, mouthing that, SOS. "And so you're here to save my soul?" he asks bitchily.

Heh, already he's starting to feel better. And to think Lazard panicked about Angeal not being in Midgar to take care of it. Little does he know - Genesis is the best at this.

"I shall be your hero of dawn at this hour," he agrees and steps closer. No defensive reaction, so he dares to reach out. "It's alright, my friend - we've all been there."

Sephiroth looks uncomfortable with Genesis' hand on his arm but doesn't try to knock it off. "I…" he says and then glances down at Genesis' chest. He looks resentful.

Being such a big man, he does small and defensive poorly. It's like watching a dragon curl in a corner. Tragic and kind of terrifying.

"Feel like you got a hole in your head?" Genesis says knowingly. "All your thoughts rattled, memories all up in the air? Any idea about how much you lost?"

"I'm fine -"

"Last year I came out of the labs and I couldn't recite half of the dialogue from LOVELESS!" Genesis admits bluntly. "It was unbearable, I was beside myself for a week - I had to re-memorise the whole thing."

Sephiroth looks confused at that, giving him a wary look. "That's…" he trails away, uncertain.

"A common side effect. Happens to everyone, to some extent," Genesis assures him easily. Honestly, he thought it happened most to Sephiroth. He has the personality of a man chemically lobotomised… like a lot of the early SOLDIER candidates. "Mako gives and Mako takes. In the wake of these crashing waves, we do our best to fill in the broken flood barriers of our minds. So. What is the damage?"

Sephiroth hesitates. "It's… nothing I can't figure out on my own."

Obviously, and even if he couldn't, it wouldn't matter - Shinra didn't keep them on Mako for their brains or their wit. Sephiroth could lose his mind and become a drooling idiot, and Shinra would still pump raw force into his veins, so long as he did their bidding. Which is honestly a shame - Sephiroth, when he could be annoyed into it, had a poetic sense of humour and came across as an intellectual.

"My friend, fates are cruel," Genesis says, shaking his head. "But we need not face their winds alone. What can't you remember?" He was obviously trying to look up something, after all.

Sephiroth looks away, his eyes troubled, and hides behind the PHS. "... My room," he admits finally. "I can't… figure out where my room is."

Genesis carefully doesn't laugh at that. It's not funny. It happens to a lot of fresh SOLDIER, and it's never not hilarious, watching baby Thirds bumbling around like lost ducklings - but it's not funny now. Sephiroth must be seriously distressed. He doesn't know how to get home!

A snicker manages to slip through, and Sephiroth glares at him, hard. "Apologies, apologies, my friend," Genesis says and grins. "Happens to the best of us. Apparently! Did you not check your key card?"

Sephiroth scowls and digs around his pockets, bringing our four key cards. He looks at them with embarrassed frustration and Genesis picks out the one to his private room. "Here - the floor and room number is written right here."

"... Ah," Sephiroth says.

Oh! Genesis didn't know Sephiroth could blush!

Oh… oh, that is terrible, that's utterly horrible.

Genesis clears his throat. "Come, my friend, let me escort you to your dwelling," he says and motions grandly to the door. "Where we shall partake in that awful tea you favour and lament our pride lost!"

Sephiroth, still looking a little flushed, makes another bitch face at him and then allows himself to be herded out of the sanctuary of the Restroom.

Genesis despairs.

This man, this most devastating of individuals, tall and broad and proud and terribly handsome, isn't supposed to be cute!

-

I have decided that Genesis has the emotional intelligence brain cell and that's how he convinced bunch of SOLDIERs to defect with him; he's the wine mom friend.

Also watch me headcanon SOLDIER lore up the wazoo...

[satinsummer]

Chapter 6: Monday Madness

Summary: Between whopping Frankie's ass and waking up late Y/N was not too fond of Mondays right now

Chapter 7: https://www.tumblr.com/satinsummer/761572777823272960/chapter-7-self-sabotage

Pairing: G!P Reader x Fem!Sam Carpenter

WARNINGS: Suggestive language, SMUT , Drug Usage (smoking weed) 18+ No Men or Minors

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

Nobody's POV:

Monday morning began with a jarring interruption. Y/N's alarm blared insistently, pulling her from a deep sleep. Disoriented and groggy, she barely had time to react as Sam's door flew open and her best friend came bursting in, eyes wide with panic. "Y/N!! Get up, we have to get home right now if we even stand a chance at showing up for our first class" She rushed out.

Still half-asleep, Y/N scrambled around the room to gather her belongings, trying to wake her body up in the process. The frantic pace of the morning left her with barely enough time to say a proper goodbye to Sam. Their parting was quick, marked by a rushed kiss and promises to catch up for lunch later. With no time to spare, Y/N and Y/BF/N dash out of the apartment, leaving behind the tranquil morning for a whirlwind of activity.

Sam and Tara eventually got their morning started, rolling out of their now cold beds and greeting each other as Tara shuffled into the kitchen wrapped in a fuzzy blanket. Taking her sisters mug out of her hand, she finished the coffee that remained in it and kissed her cheek before heading into the living room. "Y/BF/N says she left her notes here and she needs them for her exam today. Can you take me to drop them off? She wants to grab lunch with us and the others before my 1pm class." Tara yells to her sister. "What time?" "11:30ish, her and Y/N will meet as at the quad with the others!"

Back on campus, 11:30

As the chaos of the morning faded, Y/N and Y/BF/N stepped out of the lecture hall together, sun now hanging low over the university buildings, casting long shadows across the green lawns. As they walk Y/N is lazily sucking on a lollipop, her other hand clutching the laptop at her side. Y/BF/N, had her bag slung over one shoulder as she's animatedly discussing their professors latest lecture. Y/N listens with a smirk, chiming in with dry comments that make her friend laugh. The atmosphere between them is easy and relaxed; a total contrast from the way they were falling over one another this morning as they stumbled into their shard loft. Enjoying the walk across campus, eager to see their two favorite girls for lunch. They neared the outdoor seating area underneath the old oak tree where the core 4 and Anika awaited their arrival, until two girls, strangers to them, approaching with confident strides stepped in their way.

One of the girls was small and blonde, her bright green eyes scanning the length of Y/N's body. The other girl was a Tall brunette, her hazel eyes trained on Y/BF/N as she walked towards her. The blonde girl eyed Y/N's lollipop and commented playfully "That looks sweet, you think I could get a taste?" Y/N raises an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across her face as she rolls the lollipop to the other side of her mouth. She responds in a teasing tone, "You wouldn't be able to handle it"

Meanwhile the taller girl standing in front of her best friend was still trying to win her over. Y/BF/N looks more bemused than interested as the girl begins rattling off compliments "You've got a really great smile" "Yeah? What else?" She asks tilting to her head and playing into the attention she was receiving. Back at the table Sam, Tara and the others began to watch the scene unfold, their eyes shifting between Y/N and Y/BF/N and the girls in front of them. Much to the twins and Anika's surprise both sisters remained seated, their expressions calm, as if this was all a lunchtime distraction. Tara crosses her arms with a faint smile. "Well, this should be interesting" she remarks, her eyes never leaving Y/BF/N. Sam, seated across her, is similarly composed. She doesn't say anything, but there's a fire in her gaze as she watches Y/N. It's clear to anyone watching she paying very close attention.

Chad, always the instigator, chuckles. "Two for two. Your ladies are too hot to trot." He snickers at them. Sam smirks, but doesn't respond, her eyes are fixed on Y/N. With her usual charm, she twirled the lollipop in her mouth while still engaging with the girls. Her smile confident and inviting, her voice playful and teasing. Y/N's eyes flick over to where Sam is sitting, catching the look on her face---calm, but with a glint in her eyes that tells Y/N she's watching closely. Y/N feels a spark of heat at the idea of Sam seeing this, knowing she's probably got some choice words ready . She decides to see where this goes, at least for a moment longer. "You're pretty forward, huh?" Y/N says, looking down at the girl, her voice amused but firm. Grinning up at her the shorter girl responds "Only when I see something I like" she purrs, stepping even closer, hand sliding up Y/N's arm before she caught the girls wrist. Sam leans back in her seat, her expression cool but intense. She makes a low sound in a her throat, somewhere between a chuckle and a growl. "She's really pushing it, isn't she?" she mutters to Tara, who nods, her eyes still fixed on her own girlfriend who was still enjoying the attention on her. "Oh yeah, they both are. Think they know we're watching?" She responds. "Without a doubt"

"Damn, you two are just gonna let this play out?" Mindy questions. Neither of them answer. Sam watches Y/N's reaction--the way she leans back, that easy smirk still on her face, not moving to brush the girl off just yet. There's a slow burn building in Sam's chest, a mix of irritation and something much hotter.

Y/N and her best friend shared a look, the fun was over and these girls needed to kick rocks now. "What do you think, babe?" Y/BF/N yells to Tara "Should I let her buy me a drink?" Tara grins, shaking her head. "Go ahead, see if she's got good taste" she calls out, her tone light but her eyes sharp. Sharing a glance with her sister in a silent agreement to keep things calm and collected as they continue watching. Y/N on the other hand is getting tired of the flirtation coming from both of the girls. "You're persistent but, no thanks" She says politely stepping around both girls, Y/BF/N following suit and continuing towards the table. As she approached the table Sam remained calm, her face unreadable but her eyes burning with a controlled heat. Y/N sat down next to her, eyes twinkling with mischief. "You two looked like you where having a good time" she remarked, her tone light but edged with something darker. Y/N met her gaze, a teasing smile on her face. "It was entertaining" she replied "nothing we couldn't handle."

Y/BF/N slipped in next to Tara, who immediately leaned over and whispered something in her ear, making Y/BF/N laugh. "I think we handled that pretty well, don't you?" She asked, shooting Tara a playful look. Rolling her eyes Tara smiled and agreed "Yeah, I'd say you both did well. But don't think we didn't see everything"

Brushing her hand against Sam's underneath the table, Y/N leaned in close, her voice dropping to a private whisper. "Jealous?" Sam's lips twitched into a small smile, hand slipping into Y/N's under the table. "Maybe a little" she admitted, her voice low and thick with promise. "But you will make it up to me later." "Counting on it" Y/N whispered back.

The group slowly slipped back into their usual rhythm, making conversation, sharing snacks and exchanging notes. Noticing the time Y/N began packing up to head to her next class, sparing Sam a glance hoping she'd offer to walk with her. Bidding farewell to her friends and Sam she got up from the table and began walking toward the culinary building. "No goodbye kiss?" She heard from behind her, stopping mid step Y/N turned around and smiled "I didn't want to press my luck" she replies, eyes dropping to Sam's lips. As they lingered by the bustling campus walkway, Sam and Y/N stood close, just out of earshot of their friends, who were still finishing up. Y/N shifted foot to foot, her eyes stealing glances at Sam's face. Somehow Sam always made her so shy, yet the older girl seemed so relaxed, leaning on a nearby bench smiling softly at Y/N.

Pulling Sam close, Y/N dropped a kiss on her lips, lingering a bit longer than this morning when she was rushing out of the door. Pulling back and looking at Sam once more, she tried to find the words to ask to stay with her again tonight, to feel that peace once more but the way Sam was staring at her like she put the stars in the sky was making it hard. "You okay?" she asked gently, reaching up and soothing the crease in Y/N forehead with her thumb. "Yeah, I'm good" she replied while her thoughts continued to eat at her. Glancing down at her shoes, her mind was racing as she tried to ground herself. She took a breath before she decided to go for it, albeit carefully. "I just...I'm going to be really tired after class, assignments and dinner later. And, well, I was thinking..."She trailed off rubbing the back of her neck anxiously, eyes still not meeting Sam's "I was wondering if it'd be okay if I um, came over and stayed at your place tonight?" Her voice a little hesitant. "No pressure, of course. I just...I felt really at peace in your bed, and I thou-" "Yes" Sam smiled, her eyes softening as she cut Y/N off with a gentle chuckle. "You don't need to explain, Y/N. I'd really..like that" She added very warm and reassuring. "I'd love for you to stay."

Y/N felt a rush of warmth flood through her, a sense of belonging that she was still getting used to but found herself craving more and more. She nodded, biting back the urge to be overly eager. "Alright, I'll come over after a shower. I'll bring dinner?" Sam's eyes gleamed with softness, "Sounds Perfect."

Y/N smiled brightly, feeling a weight lift off her chest. She hadn't realized how much she needed to hear that until now. There was a sense of certainty in Sam's words that soothed her nerves. They stood there for a moment longer, just soaking in each others presence, neither of them in a rush to break away. Finally, Y/N sighed as she checked her watch. "I should get to class" She said reluctantly, taking a small step back. Sam nodded, "Yeah, wouldn't to keep you from that" Y/N took another step back, then stopped herself, leaning down and placing another kiss on Sam's lips--with a promise of more to come. "See you tonight, Sammy" She whispered, a playful glint in her eyes. Sam chuckled, her hand coming up to grab Y/N's jaw "See you tonight" her voice filled quiet anticipation.

With one last smile, Y/N turned and started walking towards her class, her heart lighter and her steps a bit quicker. She couldn't help but glance back over her shoulder, catching Sam's gaze still fixed on her, a soft smile playing on her lips. As Y/N disappeared around the corner, she couldn't help but feel the growing excitement about tonight. She hadn't fully articulated it yet, but there was something about being in Sam's space, in her bed, that felt like home. She couldn't wait to be back there, in that warm place where everything just felt..right.

9 Hours Later 8:30pm

Sam had a long day and the only thing she looked forward to was dinner with Y/N. After leaving the university earlier she went to work where the hours seemed to stretch on, each one feeling longer than the last. Now she was home, freshly showered and patiently awaiting Y/N's arrival with dinner. Hearing a soft knock at the door and knowing it's Y/N on the other side she takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself, and she opens the door. There stands Y/N, her face illuminated by the hallway light always looking effortlessly gorgeous. She's holding an insulated bag and a bottle of wine in her left hand, a fresh loaf of bread in her right and she’s smiling softly. Sam's eyes dart to the bottle, noting with a grin that it looks older than both of them combined.

"Hey" Y/N says softly, her eyes locking onto Sam's. There's an electricity in the air, a kind of unspoken tension that hangs between them. "Hey" Sam replies, her voice barely above a whisper. She steps aside to let Y/N in, and as she walks past her, Sam catches a hint of her cologne--something woodsy but still light, it's intoxicating. Y/N begins to unpack the bag placing the items on the coffee table and setting dinner up for them. "I hope you're hungry. I brought a feast, I learned the pasta recipe earlier in class" Y/N turns around smiling at Sam. Taking a seat on the couch Sam took in the set up in front of her, there was two medium sized pyrex bowls of steaming pasta placed next to one another, a bigger bowl of salad placed in front of them and soon enough a plate of freshly baked & sliced Italian bread joined them. The rich aroma of garlic, tomatoes, and fresh herbs fills the room. Hoping up and running to the kitchen Sam opens the drawer, pulling out a corkscrew, and two forks, she then turns and grabs two wine glasses from the cabinet above her before returning back to Y/N who's now is seated and watching Sam with intense eyes.

"Wanna do the honors?" Sam asks, holding up the corkscrew. "Sure" Y/N replies softly, stepping close she takes the tool from Sam her touch lingering a bit. It's a fleeting touch, but it sends a jolt through Sam, her skin tingling where they connected. Y/N starts to open the wine, her arms flexing slightly and eyes flickering down to meet Sam's. As the cork pops free, Sam lets out a soft chuckle "You make it look really easy" She says, eyes fixed on her tattoo covered arms. Smiling she begins to pour the wine, handing a glass to Sam before picking up her own. She lifts her glass, and they clink them together in a silent "cheers". The wine is rich and full-bodied, warming Sam from the inside out, but she barely tastes it; her attention is fully on Y/N. The two girls begin eating, sitting so close their knees are almost touching. Conversation flowed easily at first, filled with laughter and shared stories, but beneath it, there's a palpable undercut of tension, a magnetic pull that neither of them addressed directly. At one point Sam reaches for bread and her hand brushes against Y/N's. They freeze, eyes meeting, and the room suddenly feels much warmer. In another instance Y/N finds herself watching Sam closely as she takes a bite of her pasta, enjoying the way Sam's lips wrapped around the fork. Every small moment felt magnified, dripping with the kind of sensuality that made Y/N painfully hard.

After they finish eating, Y/N cleans up and rejoins Sam on the couch. She sits down close to her, their thighs brushing against one another. The air between them is charged. Sam's eyes flick down to Y/N's lips as she finishes off the rest of her wine, tongue darting out to catch a stray drop. Sam's heart pounds harder, her body thrumming with a deep, steady ache. They resume talking, their words light but their voices carrying a weight that makes every breath feel heavier. Sam laughs at something Y/N says, a soft, throaty sound that sends a thrill through the younger girl. Y/N reaches out, her fingers tracing the edge of Sam’s jaw, sliding up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She lingers there, her thumb brushing the soft skin of Sam’s cheek, as they both felt the heat in the room rising again.

Sam’s laughter fades, and her eyes growing dark as she melts into Y/N’s touch. Without thinking she leans in, her eyes lidded, lips parting slightly. Y/N meets her halfway, and their lips finally touch. It’s a slow, exploratory kiss at first. The taste of wine and the faint saltiness of the pasta on their lips mixing together. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more needy. Y/N’s slides her hands down to Sam’s waist, pulling her into her lap in one smooth motion. Her fingers tugging at Y/N’s shirt pulling her closer, stealing the air from her lungs as she presses down on to Y/N’s front. Wrapping her arms around Sam, the girls mold deeper into one another feeling like they could never get close enough. “I’ve been thinking about you all day” Y/N confesses, as she pulls away and rests her forehead against Sam’s. Moving to cup her face after locking eyes, Sam whispers a quiet “Me too”

Before they can dive back into each other, the sound of the front door clicking open slices through their heated moment like a knife. Sam’s heart jumps out of her chest, and Y/N’s eyes widen. Quickly pulling apart, their heads snap towards the sound. Standing there in the middle of the entryway is Tara and Y/BF/N, both of their eyes widening in surprise at the scene in front of them. Tara’s eyebrows shoot up, clearly taken aback and all Y/BF/N can do is look between the two flushed, swollen lipped girls with a shit eating grin on her face. Freezing for a moment not entirely sure to react to the sudden interruption, Sam climbs off of Y/N's lap, trying to smooth down her hair and fixing her shirt so she could look more presentable. Y/N on the other hand is somewhere between embarrassment and frustration, her dick was aching for Sam’s touch. Willing herself to calm down, she clears her throat awkwardly.

“Uh..hey, Tara..Y/BF/N” Sam says, her voice a little too high pitched, clearly flustered. Stifling a laugh Tara eyes her older sister before responding “Hey Sam..Y/N/N” she teases in an amused tone. Y/BF/N nudges her slightly a knowing grin still sitting on her face. “Don’t mind us. We were just coming by to grab some stuff” Y/BF/N says, eyes still on the side of Y/N's face. Sam can’t help the nervous chuckle that falls from her mouth, her cheeks still flushed she avoids making direct eye contact with either of them. “I need a smoke” Y/N says, immediately removing herself from the couch and leaving the apartment.

“Right, well…we won’t be long” Tara says with a smirk, waving her hand dismissively as she continues her journey into the shared apartment. Sam quickly stands up and makes a beeline for a her room, trying to salvage what’s left of her dignity. Closing the door softly and turning on her TV, Sam tries to stop the pounding in her chest. Soon she hears Tara and Y/BF/N leaving but not before her sister is yelling a quick goodbye, pulling the door closed behind them. As Sam tried to lose herself in the TV, she couldn't help but think about that moment on campus earlier. Sam watched from the table as Y/N carefully played into the attention being directed at her but the entire time her eyes never left Sam's, almost challenging her to get up and claim Y/N with reckless abandon.

Returning inside Y/N made a quick stop in the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her hands before heading to Sam's room. Pushing the door open slowly, stepping in and closing it behind her. The private sanctuary of Sam's room was the only place where they could reclaim what had been taken from them and where Y/N could fully express her devotion. She walked slowly across the room, each step calculated. Sam's eyes lit up as Y/N leaned down and kissed her. It started slow, filled with an intense tenderness, as their deepened the TV's soft glow became a mere backdrop to the intimate exchange unfolding in Sam's bed.

(SMUT BELOW; MINORS AND MEN DNI)

Y/N hands roamed all over Sam's body with a reverence that spoke volumes of shared feelings. Pushing Y/N back as they parted for air Sam stood up from her bed. Before Y/N could register what was happening Sam dropped to her knees in front of her, looking up with a mixture of need and authority that took Y/N's breath away. There was no hesitation in her movements, no second-guessing. Not wasting another second, she begins pulling Y/N's sweats down, her satin boxers following shortly after. Sam looks up once more as she places a single kiss to the tip of Y/N's cock before slowly taking the whole length into her mouth.

Y/N can't believe it, SAMANTHA CARPENTER is on her knees, sucking her off with a relentless, steady pace that makes her head spin. Sam's mouth is skillful, dragging up and down the length of her shaft and always stopping to suckle the tip gently before repeating her process. Looking down Y/N see's Sam eyes are fixed on her, shinning with pride as she feels her reaching down and brushing the hair out her face. She keeps her eyes on Y/N, watching every reaction, every twitch of the cock inside her mouth, it sends her reeling. Her control is absolute but then she sees it--the small flicker of arrogance in Y/N's eyes, the lazily smirk tugging at her lips.

"You think you've got me figured out, don't you?" Y/N says, her breath hitching as she fights to keep her composure. Her tone taunting, a hint of challenge in her words. "Down on your knees, taking orders..it's almost cute" she adds as her hips thrust in tandem with Sam's sucking. She pauses, her mouth hovering just over Y/N, her eyes narrowing. She pulls back slowly, dragging her tongue up and down the base before halting her movements completely. "Cute?" Sam repeats, voice low and mocking . "Oh, baby. You've got this all wrong"

"You think I like that?" she retorts, her tone sharp, cutting right through Y/N's bravado. "Watching you flirt like I'm not right there?" Y/N chuckles, the sound deep and dismissive she responds, "It's just a bit of fun, Sammy" Suddenly she standing eye level with Y/N, her lips shinning and swollen, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and pulling Y/N on the bed. Pushing her onto to her back, she slides her panties off before climbing on top of Y/N, pressing her thighs against her sides with a commanding force. "You think you're so confident" Sam challenges, "Then let's see how long you can last"

Sinking down on to Y/N's cock with a slow, deliberate motion that makes both of them gasp. Sam rocking her hips up and down back and forth, her tits moving in tandem, making Y/N squeeze her eyes shut, her mouth falling open as she tries to ward off her impending orgasm. "Look at me" Sam snaps, hand sliding up to grip Y/N's jaw "You don't get to look away, watch me ruin you" Y/N eyes flutter open landing on their connected centers. Sam's pussy was dripping all over Y/N's cock, sliding in and out of her without resistance as she rode Y/N. "I..I'll hold it" She stammers out, head dropping back the sight too much to take in. A wicked smile takes over Sam's face "You'd better..but I'm not letting you off that easy" she purrs. Y/N' arrogance has finally crumbled, her breath coming out in ragged gasps as she struggled to keep from cumming. "Sam, please--I c-" "You will" she hisses, her hips slamming down with force. "You will, or I'll leave you like this all night"

She's on the verge of cumming, her body trembling. Hanging on by a thread she called out to the girl riding her dick like she owned it. "Please..I'll do anyth-" "Anything?" Sam repeats, her voice a cruel whisper. "Then prove it. Hold it. Just for me"

Nodding Y/N eyes rollback, the way Sam's pussy is leaking all over her, the clenching, the fucking clenching it's all too much. Looking up through hazy eyes she sees Sam, head thrown back, one hand on Y/N's thigh aiding her motion and the other splayed on Y/N's abs she fucks herself into oblivion. "Is it mine?" She asks leaning down pressing her chest to Y/N's as she begins to meet her thrust for thrust. "Y-Yes Sam, my dick is all yours" Sliding her hand around Y/N's throat and kissing her so nasty it make's her toes curl Sam finally gives in. "Cum for me" And when Y/N does it never ending. Her body shudders violently as she tries to push herself deeper into Sam's pussy, moaning Sam's name like a prayer. Without a word, Y/N shifts and takes control. Flipping her onto to her stomach, Sam doesn't get a chance to think before Y/N is pushing into her from behind. Scooping her up and forcing her to face the mirror positioned just opposite of the bed.

"Look at us"Y/N growls, her voice thick with lust. "See how perfect we are together. Watch how you body responds to me." Tugging her up by the arm, Y/N forces Sam to watch herself be fucked. Sam's eyes meet their reflection in the mirror "I-I see it" She moans, her voice strained but filled with desire, "It's so good, fu-I feel you everywhere." "Good girl" Y/N murmurs in her ear, tongue licking the shell of it. "Show me how devoted you are to me, Sam" She adds, pushing a hand between Sam's shoulders causing her to fall into the pillows, creating an arch that is so beautiful Y/N could cry. "You're so deep, it's too muc-" Sam attempts, choking on a moan and throwing her hand back to stop her as Y/N changes the angle of her hips. Her eyes flash in the mirror, lips curling into a dark, satisfied smile she threads a hand in Sam's hair tugging her up. "You like it when I fuck you this, don't you? You like it when I make you watch" She asks, her voice low and demanding in Sam's ringing ears. "Yes" she whimpers, her breath hitching when Y/N begins fucking her harder, her hands clutched around the sheets as the muscles in her back and shoulders flexed under Y/N's gaze. "Then show me, Sam"

She can barely form a coherent thought, pleasure overwhelming her, she nods frantically, leaning up on her hands and keeping her back perfectly arched Sam looked over her shoulder at Y/N. Locking eyes, she begins to rock back, meeting Y/N's hard thrust each time. She yearns to give her everything, to show her just how much Sam needs Y/N, how much she craves the girl drilling into her. "Fuck, you look so good like this" Y/N groans, handing sliding up to wrap around Sam's throat, tightening just enough to make her pulse quicken. "So fuckin perfect. Mine" Her words push Sam closer to the edge, her pussy clenching around Y/N so hard she could barely move. "Relax" She whispered. But Sam can't she so close, so close she can taste it, her entire body is coiling with tension, ready to snap.

"Y/N/ I-" She attempts, her voice breaking, eyes rolling back as Y/N begins to rub her aching clit. "I'm gonna----" "Cum for me" Y/N growls, her thrusts never stopping. "Show me how much I'm yours, cum all over that fuckin pole" And she does---her body shatters, her vision blurring as she throws her head back in a silent scream as wave after wave crashes over her. Her pussy clenching even tighter around Y/N, throbbing in tune with her heartbeat. She can feel Y/N cumming inside of her and it sent her spiraling head first into another orgasm, hitting her so hard tears form in her eyes. It's too good, Sam needs it to stop but she never want to know what it feels like to not surrender herself to Y/N. She was completely hers.

For a moment, there's nothing but the sound of them breathing, the feeling Y/N's softening cock still in Sam's overly sensitive pussy, and the soft chatter of the TV in the background joining them again. Sam's heart is racing, her body still shaking from the intensity of it all, but she feels...complete. Y/N pulls out and makes her way out Sam's room and in the bathroom after a quick pee and clean up she returns to Sam who is still lying spent on the bed, eyes half lidded and barely conscious. She feels Y/N softly roll her over and begins cleaning her up, finding Sam's shirt and a fresh pair of panties she tucks her in before whispering a quick "Be right back" pulling on a hoodie and a pair of clean boxers she drops the soiled clothes in Sam's washer, starting the load and walking back too the room. Sam was now fast asleep, lips parted and slightly drooling. Y/N climbs in beside her, pulling the older close she buries her face in Sam's hair and allows sleep to take over her.

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

AN: Shits about to hit the fan, it's getting too real for Sammy. It's always the lesbians breaking up before they're even together fr 🫣

Feedback is always greatly appreciated, Chapter 7 should be out on Saturday! -🕷️

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Like a Stone 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, age gap, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Loki, Tony Stark (Professor AU)

Summary: your work as a TA is complicated by more than your advisor. (tall reader)

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. 

You tap the button on the clicker to change the slide. You’re overly aware of the slender figure sat behind the podium. You feel as if he sees your every move yet he hardly seems to be paying attention at the same time. It’s difficult to read the man who offers little expression and less words. 

Doctor Laufeyson’s presence haunts your lesson as you proceed through you hard-forged lesson plan. You remember a similar lesson from your first year. Introductory Philosophy was a measly challenge and you don’t find teaching it any more challenging. No, it’s only your supervising professor that proves tedious. 

“So, as we wrap up theism and why humans seek solace or direction or reason from God, gods, or some other deity or deities...” you hesitate as you hear the door open and close. You didn’t notice anyone get up to go to the bathroom but maybe you missed it. “Which explanation makes most sense to you? In the scheme of civilization, what drives people to seek certainty in the uncertain?” 

Your eyes flick up to the movement in the back row. You nearly choke on your tongue. You stare up at the man who sits heavily and props his feet up on the seat in front of him. That man, Stark, crosses his arms and wears a smug smile as he watches you. 

“Giselle,” you look around for a hand, “please.” 

“I think it’s like you said, a lot of things happen for no reason or we don’t know the reason...” 

She goes on but you find it hard to focus. Why is he here? Better yet, how did he find you? Well, he made it clear he knew of your association with Doctor Laufeyson but you thought as a professor himself he might have his own lectures to give. 

“Mm, especially as we can trace back so many structures of belief to ancient societies,” you respond as best you can. “In eras when so much could not be explained--” 

“Nah,” the man at the back scoffs, “I think humans want God to exist because they’re scared.” 

You wince and put your hands behind your back, gripping the clicker tight. You sense motion behind your shoulder. The professor finally breaks his statuesque posture as he shifts behind the podium. 

“They’re too afraid to stand on their own so they gotta make their bad choices someone elses,” Stark chortles. “They can’t just face up that they might not be great. Or maybe they are. They need let go and realise they can be their own god. Just gotta do whatever they want and not give a—heck.” 

He smiles again and you stand speechless. You don’t know how to respond. It’s clear he’s taunting you and if there wasn’t a full class and your professor behind you, you would run him down from hair to hide. Yet in that moment, you are paralysed. 

“Well, that was wonderful,” Laufeyson stands and speaks over the silent room. “I trust you will ruminate on today’s lesson ahead of our next quiz.” He lingers at the podium, “you are dismissed. Don’t forget your readings.” 

The students give a collective sigh. You stand stiffly as they pack up. You bring your hands forward and look down at the clicker. You back up and go to put it back on the podium. 

The lecture hall slowly empties of voices but a whistle remains. Slightly off-key. It irritates you as you pack up your bag. 

“Must you with that incessant racket?” Laufeyson sneers. It’s as animated as you’ve ever heard him. “Stark, what brings you to my neck of the woods?” 

“Ooh, are we doing cliches?” Stark rebuffs. You look up as he drops his feet and pulls himself up with the seat ahead of him. “Well, believe it or not, Loki, I didn’t come to hear you speak out your ass.” 

He slips his hands into his pockets as he comes to the end of the aisle and slowly descends the steps between the rows. You hook your bag over your shoulder as Laufeyson tilts his head. Stark stops a few feet away from him. 

“Primmy, baby, how about it? After that tripe, you must need a drink.” Stark smirks back at your blank stare. 

“No,” you blink. “I don’t drink.” 

“Her?” Laufeyson narrows his eyes. “Have you run out of options off-campus?” 

“Well, you’d know that problem well, buddy,” Stark snips back. “I’m just being nice. I see a girl working hard and I know how to reward her.” 

You ignore him and shake your head. You turn to Laufeyson, “Professor, I will work on my next lesson and forward my notes. Thank you for your time.” 

Laufeyson glances over at you. He is pensive as he looks down his nose. He is of a few who can so in your direction. 

“All work and no play, you’re going to drive her batty,” Stark snorts. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We can have fun and old Dr. Tight ass can spend his time with his books.” 

“I’m not interested,” you say pointedly without looking at him. “Doctor, I will go now.” 

“You will not. He will, and we will have our post-lecture review. I do have a few notes,” he insists. 

You don’t argue. You fold your hands and set your chin, “very well.” 

“Damn, Laufeyson, tell me it’s not like looking in a mirror with this one. Must make you tingly.” 

“Leave,” the doctor edges closer to the shorter man. “This room is in my name at this time so I can call security and have them escort you. Yet, I’d rather do it myself.” 

You’re stunned by the threat. You wouldn’t expect it of Dr. Laufeyson. Well, you wouldn’t know what to expect of him. He stands tall, chin up, shoulders square, and stares down the other man. The shorter man. 

“As much as I’d like to see you try then have to put you on your ass,” Stark sneers, “I like this suit more and you’re not worth it.” 

Stark tugs on his lapels and turns his sights on you. He winks, “I’ll see you, Primmy.” 

He spins on his heel and struts away. You arch a brow and watch him, mortified. Dr. Laufeyson clears his throat as the other professor leaves. 

“And how are you acquainted with that lummox?” He finally speaks. 

“I’m not,” you say. “We had an unfortunate collision and he hasn’t desisted.” 

His green eyes search you. It feels like the first time he’s looked at you. Even as if it’s the first time he’s seen you. 

“Mm, well, it isn’t appropriate.” 

“I agree,” you say. 

“So he won’t reappear,” he dips his head slightly, tersely. You realise, he’s telling you to make sure it doesn’t. 

“It won’t,” you assure. 

“Wonderful. You RSVP’d for the symposium?” He asks, thought it hardly sounds like a question. 

You inhale. You haven’t asked your father for the fee yet. You’ll have to do so soon. 

“I will.” 

“Be certain you do. Now, I will send an email of my notes.” He turns away and goes back to the podium. 

You realise he only meant to get rid of Stark before. Likely not for your sake, but his own. What does it matter? At least you can be free of both of them now. 

[see-arcane]

"I have been thinking, and have made up my mind as to what is best. If I did simply follow my inclining I would do now, at this moment, what is to be done; but there are other things to follow, and things that are thousand times more difficult in that them we do not know. This is simple. She have yet no life taken, though that is of time; and to act now would be to take danger from her for ever. But then we may have to want Arthur, and how shall we tell him of this? [...] he may think that in some more mistaken idea this woman was buried alive; and that in most mistake of all we have killed her. He will then argue back that it is we, mistaken ones, that have killed her by our ideas; and so he will be much unhappy always. Yet he never can be sure; and that is the worst of all. And he will sometimes think that she he loved was buried alive, and that will paint his dreams with horrors [...] He, poor fellow, must have one hour that will make the very face of heaven grow black to him; then we can act for good all round and send him peace.

Thinking about all of this in the context of Van Helsing recollecting and planning ahead at once.

He is thinking about what he saw with Jonathan here. He also is thinking about Dracula and his very wide and still unaddressed threat.

Jonathan was a proven wreck because he was left uncertain of his own senses, never knowing for sure whether the horrors he experienced were real or not until outside evidence confirmed it. Simply knowing that the nightmare was real restored his sanity, his clarity, his strength...and his will to aid Van Helsing in targeting the Count and his schemes.

Cut to this scene. Van Helsing does have good intentions here, and they are sensible. Arthur needs to know what's become of Lucy before they take any slaying action. He needs to know for his own sanity's sake--No, we did not accidentally "The Fall of the House of Usher" her, she was not buried alive, she's a vampire, see?--for closure's sake, and for practicality's sake. Emphasis on practicality.

"But then we may have to want Arthur, and how shall we tell him of this?"

Dr. Abe is already mentally blasting Victorian Avengers music in his head. He knows that numbers (and maybe a handy bit of bankrolling) are going to be necessary against a Vampire who's not just ambling around chomping kids, but actively planning some wider takeover of the country, possibly preceding a steady consumption of humanity itself. One professor, an asylum superintendent, a solicitor and a typist are a good start! But a moneyed and vengeful lord, give or take a spare badass cowboy, would also be nice to have on board. The reason he holds off on putting down the Bloofer Lady here is smart.

...while camping out on the following night completely alone in her territory to keep watch is less so. But also in character. And, I very, very, very grudgingly admit this, indicative of just how and why he will behave/lead the way he does in future dates once Mina and Jonathan come into the picture in Purfleet. Whenever it is feasible, Abraham van Helsing puts himself on the line first with the stalwart youths at his back in decreasing levels of 'I worry for your safety!'

Ironically, for the guy showing the most forethought and sense at the time, he's going to be the impetus for the most senseless part of the team's whole plan--and it'll be the exact same MO that should have stuck after learning from Lucy and Jonathan's cases.

[theemporium]

Pretty sure you asked for this!

Blurb choice one: Sirius jealous cuz reader on a date with some other marauder!

number two: reader doesn’t like marauders but meets up with their anamiguis forms a lot. Doesn’t know identity of animals.

I’m so bad at spelling, no pressure to do one, love your writing!

these are both so cute but i just had to do the first one!! thank you for requesting!🖤

.

“Is he still glaring?” 

“Oh yeah, he’s pissed.” 

“Really?” 

“I think he’s planning how he’s going to kill me.”

You couldn’t help but let out a snort. “He brought it on himself.” 

And Remus Lupin couldn’t help but agree with you. 

He adored his friends, he truly did. He loved them with each and every single one of their flaws. He would always love them no matter what. But sometimes—just sometimes—they needed to have their buttons pushed and their stubbornness challenged. 

The friend in question being none other than Sirius Black. 

Sirius was known throughout Hogwarts for being a charmer. He was a flirt, a huge one even. He would flirt with anything that moved and most people knew it was harmless, that it was just a part of his personality and it became something that people adored him for. However, the second Sirius caught actual feelings, he would shut down. 

And that was exactly what happened to you.

It was like a flip that switched overnight. One day you would be sitting next to each other in class, giggling and whispering and sending each other notes to make the other one laugh until a professor told them off. And then the next day he was avoiding you like a plague, shoulders tense and face stoic whenever he spoke to you. 

Sirius wasn’t good at dealing with emotions, especially when they were as strong as he felt for you and he would panic. He would shut down, almost like a survival mechanism to stop him from getting hurt. 

But he didn’t realise you got hurt instead. 

That was why Remus stepped in, because he saw what his friend was doing and he knew nothing he said to Sirius would make him change. He needed a push, he needed something to fuel him. And what better than jealousy?

It was why Remus brought you to the Three Broomsticks, telling you his plan as you both slid into a booth that was directly in Sirius’ line of view. It was why Remus had made a show of putting his arm around you, whispering in your ear about how red in the face his friend was. 

It was why Remus took you out on the makeshift date in the first place, if not to push his friend then to at least cheer you up.

However, the final button was pushed the second Sirius saw Remus twirl a strand of your hair around his finger, a smirk on his lips and his eyes slowly moving down your face—and it was too much. He needed to step in. 

“You two look cosy!” Sirius commented, a false smile on his face as he stood in front of the booth, staring down his friend. 

“We are, thanks,” Remus replied, biting back his laughter when he squeezed you closer to him. “It’s probably one of the best dates I’ve ever been on.” 

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “Really?” 

“Totally,” Remus smiled. 

“You’re gonna make him pop a blood vessel,” you laughed as you playfully smacked Remus’ chest, missing the way Sirius’ jaw clenched at the action.

“What? It’s not like Sirius has a problem with our date,” Remus mused, a knowing glint in his eyes as he looked at his friend. “Right, Pads?”

Sirius scoffed. “You’re a bastard.” 

“That’s not an answer,” Remus sang, enjoying the way his friend squirmed on the spot. 

“Just fuck off already,” Sirius huffed as he nodded towards the table he had been sitting at earlier, where the rest of their group was watching the interaction in amusement. 

Remus didn’t say anything but the smug look on his face said more than enough as he slid out of the booth, patting Sirius on the back before he headed off. Sirius, though, was still pouting as he slid into the booth next to you. 

“You’re lucky you’re still pretty when you pout, Black,” you teased lightly, nudging him with your elbow until he turned to face him. 

“You think I’m pretty?” Sirius murmured, his cheeks flushing. He was aware he was attractive, he wasn’t stupid. But for some reason hearing you say it made his stomach erupt with butterflies.

“The prettiest,” you nodded. “Even if you can be a bit of an idiot.” 

“Let me make it up to you,” Sirius said, his friend now the last thing on his mind as he reached to take your hand in his. 

“You’ll have plenty of dates to redeem yourself, Black,” you assured him, the promise of multiple dates in the future making him smile.

.

[thestorycomesalive]

And I Would Do it Again

George Weasley x Reader

Summary: When you stick up for George in front of your whole Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Professor Umbridge has a certain consequence in mind for you.

Angst and Fluff, Hurt/Comfort.

TW: Mentions of Blood

****

“Eh hem, Mr. Weasley,” hummed a trilling voice from behind the tall red head next to you.

“Professor?” George raised an eyebrow to the pink clad woman behind him, wondering what in the world the small, angry lady could possibly want. Afterall, he hadn’t done anything wrong. And he knew better than to test her at this point. Or at least he knew his limits. Ron had told him of the tragic events that took place in Harry’s detention. Ever since then, he and his twin brother had gotten quieter and cleverer about pulling their tricks around school. Of course, they hadn’t stopped altogether. George wouldn’t be George without his pranks. But George knew he couldn’t get detention. Not out of a kindness for himself, but rather for your sake. He knew you’d worry too much.

But this time, he hadn’t done anything to provoke Professor Umbridge. He racked his brain for a moment, but he couldn’t think of one thing that would call her attention to him.

“You have received a generous amount of our class time today to complete your writing assignment, and while even Ms. L/N next to you has come up with a few paragraphs, you seem to have nearly nothing on your page. Care to explain what you’ve been up to all of this time?” The woman teetered to the front of your table, peering down at George.

He gave her a look of disbelief. “Well, it is not for lack of trying. I just have a hard time learning on paper. And you don’t let us use our wands,” he pointed out.

She giggled a single, ugly giggle. “Mr. Weasley… I can’t say I’m surprised. Afterall, I have come to expect less than from you. You shouldn’t need your wand to learn. Perhaps it is time for you to accept the fact that your own stupidity is to blame for your shortcomings. I really do my very best, but some students are just purely unteachable.” She hummed the last part to herself, shaking her head.

Your eyes shot up to her instantly. You had been watching her for some time, but in this instance, your eyes had been on the boy next to you, offering looks of kindness and sympathy without words. But now you were angry. Practically fuming. “Excuse me,” you muttered sharply, grabbing her attention with a whip of her head. “That is not, in any way, fair or warranted. George is one of the smartest people I know.” Your eyes were shooting darts at her as a piercing, condescending smile crept up to her ears.

“Ms. L/N. Talking out of turn will not be tolerated in my classroom. Especially not when it is used to talk back to your superiors,” she huffed.

You felt the smallest sensation of George’s pinky finger entwining with yours, as he tried to simmer down some of the anger, he knew was bubbling within you. You sighed and decided to leave the subject, having said your piece.

“You shall not question my knowledge and wisdom in any sense. If I say he is stupid, he is stupid, and if I say you are a flying Niffler, well then, you must be a flying Niffler. Do you understand, young lady?” she grinned, clearly having been satisfied with what she thought was winning the argument. You feel the heat and anger rising even higher than before at the mention of the sweet boy next to you. And then you finally realized what it is she was asking of you. She was asking you to agree with her cruel assumption about your George in front of the whole class. She cocks an eyebrow in the air with a wild smirk on her face. The rage pools over as you finally let it escape your mouth.

“No. I do not. I do not understand how you can call someone so bright and creative stupid, simply because you lack the skills and empathy to teach them what you would like them to know. Or because their knowledge simply extends beyond concepts that you can understand. You might not agree with me, Professor, but not everyone is like you. Not everyone wants to sit in a dark room and just pretend to learn for the rest of their lives. You want to give me detention, Professor? Fine. But I will not stand by while you abuse really great wizards, let alone, the ones that I love.” You cock your eyebrows back at her, knowing she has you right where she wants you. You don’t have a care in the world as the steam almost rises from your ears. It is now you notice that George’s hand had moved from your pinky to your wrist, gently trying to stop you from making the decision you had just made, his eyes pleading with yours with a gentle sadness and slight shock. However, for the briefest moment, you thought you could make out the tiniest glimpse of pride pass his eyes at the same time.

“Detention, Ms. L/N. I will not have anyone tell me how to teach in my classroom or question my abilities and judgement as a witch. Let alone someone so new to magic, as yourself.” She smiled smugly as she returned to the front of the classroom continuing her lesson immediately, not giving George or you a chance to respond to her. It was this act that left George hunting her down with a glare that could kill for the rest of the class, hand still in yours.

****

George spent every moment away from you that day, skipping his classes, trying in every way to get himself detention with Umbridge as well. However, every attempt ended with a quiet humph and scolding from her filled with cruel and nasty words. It was clear that even though she dreadfully wanted to, she was not going to give in and give George the detention he so desperately desired. She knew his punishment would be far more effective if she let you suffer and put him in a position where he would not be able to do anything about it whatsoever. It was the only time that he had the freedom to do nearly anything he wanted at Hogwarts, to break almost any rule he wanted to break, and get away with it. The painful irony is, he hated every second of it.

*****

Your detention arrived quickly that night when the corridors of the castles quieted. You had spent all day since your class with Umbridge quiet by George’s side. On the moments that you would be separated, you would go find a place in the Gryffindor Common Room to sit and wait for him to return from his classes or what you thought must be prank trials with Fred. But you weren’t worried about your detention like most people probably assumed you had been. Hell, you probably should’ve been. No. You were furious. Furious at Umbridge for targeting George, furious at her for backing you into a corner until you couldn’t take it anymore, furious at her for hurting Harry, furious at her for getting away with all of the terrible things she has done… furious.

When darkness befell the Common Room, only George, Fred, Lee, and you remained. You hadn’t told Harry or anyone else about your detention. You didn’t want him to worry. However, Fred and Lee, of course, had known of your soon-to-be punishment, considering they had been in the class when you received it. When you left the classroom, George pulled you into his side protectively and Lee had given you proud pat on the shoulder. With an exaggerated wink, Fred had run up and exclaimed, “Blimey, that was amazing, L/N! Nice craftsmanship, excellent execution.” Fred had tried to wipe some of the anger from your face throughout the day with a few, “don’t mess with that one, she’s fiery” and “Oi, Lee, careful. Catch yourself even looking at ol’ Georgie too long, and you might have to answer to that one,” with a point in your direction. These usually earned a genuine, soft smile from you as you chuckled to yourself. Freddie was the one person in the world who could make any person laugh no matter the circumstances. George would blush, and if he saw you laughing, he would also laugh to himself at the mention of the last joke from Fred. Part of you wondered if he may have enjoyed feeling your protectiveness over him. And you didn’t mind. You liked that he liked it. Even now.

But as the four of you sat late in the quiet Common Room, you felt the jokes wash away as George twiddled with his fingers, your head on his chest. You could tell he was feeling worried and helpless as you waited for your time to leave for detention. When that time came, you gave them a gentle smile and said, “Alright, I’m off. I’ll see you guys in the morning. Don’t go worrying about me too much.” You gave Fred and Lee a wink and kissed the top of George’s head.

As if on instinct, George grabbed your hand, pleading with his face, as if he were trying to keep you from going. But he knew that if you did not show up tonight, it would only earn you an even bigger punishment with the nasty, pink-shoed woman later. You took his hand and held it to your cheek as you gave him a little smile and whispered, “I love you. Goodnight.” And off you went, George watching your back as you left.

*****

As you creaked through the half open door of Umbridge’s office, you heard her squeal in delight. She toned out, “Do come in, Ms. L/N.”

You walked in without a word, eyes piercing through the small woman as she continued. “I do hope tonight will serve you nicely. You will be writing lines for me, dear.” You nodded your head, eyes still shooting at the Professor. This is what you had expected to hear from her. “Take a seat. There is a quill and parchment already for you at the desk there.”

 You took a seat at the desk she pointed to as she tutted. “Hmm… What lesson is to be learned tonight, do you think?” You, of course, didn’t answer. “There are many lessons I believe you could benefit from learning, Ms. L/N, but I have chosen to be generous to you, for reasons unbeknownst to me. I believe the lines, ‘I will learn my place and be respectful to my superiors’, will do just fine.”

 Your mouth dropped. You were expecting to write lines, and you knew the pain that would come with that, but you had not expected the number of words she would give you to write to be so extensive. You only prayed that the number of lines she would have you complete would be less, to even out your sentence to compare to the stories you had heard from others, including Harry. You dared to ask. “How many- “

“One hundred,” she interrupted without hesitation.

You nodded, eyes still a bit wide from shock. You assumed that you had really struck a nerve with your defiance towards Umbridge. Afterall, why else would your sentence be nearly double that of any other student you have heard from so far? You figured that you also were being used as punishment towards those you loved as well. Those who have also unmeaningly struck a nerve of Umbridge’s too: Harry and George. But you wouldn’t be used as bait. No, you quite refused to be used as such.

As you dared to hover the dry quill over the paper, you prepared yourself for the pain that would inevitably begin once you touched them down to meet. And when it did, the pain was one hundred times more unbearable than you had even begun to imagine, just like the number of lines you were to complete.

By the time you had arrived halfway through your assignment, blood was dripping down your fingertips, drenching your parchment along with the tears crawling down your face. Finally, soft whimpers that you had tried to hold back for so long, began to escape.

 The clock ticking echoed in your ears, taunting your brain with the idea of freedom. After what felt like an eternity, you had finished the lines, and you were a both dry and wet bloodied mess. You sat up from your seat and handed the now quiet professor your scarlet stained parchment full of scratches reading, “I will learn my place and be respectful to my superiors”, front and back.

“May I leave now?” you uttered.

She simply nodded with a conniving grin plastered on her face as she watched you walk out the door.

*****

You held your breath until you arrived back past the portrait into the Gryffindor Common Room, not wanting that evil woman to hear you cry. When you stepped into the room, you pressed your back to the cold wall next to you and grabbed your wrist, blood flow never-ending, and finally let the tears and sobs escape you, as your back fell down the wall. You were so blinded by the pain that you didn’t even notice there was someone in the room with you. They ran up from the couch, over to your place by the wall, and sat right next to you, pulling you into their lap. From the moment you discovered the figure, your brain and your heart knew it would be your George. Part of you had a feeling he wouldn’t sleep until you were back, and you didn’t want him to see you like this. You fought your brain which told you that you were allowing yourself to be the live weapon that Umbridge wanted you to be. You just hadn’t expected the pain to be so much. You hadn’t expected that you would collapse right in front of George. You so desperately wanted to be strong. To stay strong for him. For yourself. But, oh merlin, did it hurt.

His big arms wrapped around your shoulders and brought his hand to pull your bloodied one into his line of sight. His breathing hitched and he felt his blood run to his cheeks and his ears as his other hand clenched into a fist. He was seeing red at the extra bloodied hand you fostered, much worse than he had ever seen, even on Harry. But the rage he felt was nothing compared to the crunch of his heart splitting in two as your cries of pain reached his ears. He didn’t know what to do, he felt so helpless, just as he had all day, but a million times worse.

“Darling, I know. I’m so sorry. I’m- I’m so sorry. Please. Please, I have to wrap this. You have to let me wrap this,” he struggled, pleading with you.

Your head heard his words, and it told you to move, to stop crying, to say something. But your skin was on fire, and the roar of the flames outspoke the language of your brain trying to reason with your body. You were able to lean your head into his shoulder, as you tried to compose yourself as best as you could, but the best you could do was quiet your sobs ever so slightly, as any and all words fell silent in the back of your throat. Your tears soaked through his shirt and coated his upper arm that still held you. He began to take his arms and pull himself up, untangling himself from you. He moved to sit on his knees in front of you, eyes searching for yours as he tilted your chin up to look at him.

“My love. Please. I need to wrap your hand. Can I bring you to the couch?” he asked, peering through your eyes for an answer.

You slightly nodded your head, barely noticeable. But George, he saw it. He always saw it. He could read you better than anyone in the world. The moment he saw your head move, he scooped his arm under your bent legs and placed his other one across your back and under your arms. You turned your head into his shoulder as he gently move to place you on the couch, your back pressed to the arm of the chair. You pulled your knees up on the couch, moving your heels to touch your bottom. Splayed out across the table in front of you were bandages and a wrap for your hand. As the tears began finding themselves more and more scarce at the hope of relief, the smaller of the words at the back of your throat began to find their way out.

“Georgie?” you asked, coming out in a high-pitched whimper.

His deep, worrying eyes looked to you, hands finding your cheeks. He followed your eyes to the table and the equipment laying on it. An embarrassed blush came to his cheeks as his brows furrowed. Supplies. It was pathetic, he thought. He should’ve been the one being punished. But instead, it was you and there was absolutely nothing he could do except for find some simple supplies. Unable to even think about sleeping, he had snuck his way over to Madame Pomfrey in the medical wing as soon as you had exited the Common Room. He asked her for some supplies and after more than a lot of convincing that everything was okay and that he wasn’t up to anything that would get her in trouble, she suspiciously obliged. He knew you would refuse to see her anyways, not wanting to take up her time. And deep down, he too knew that there was not much she would be able to do for you, no matter how much he begged. Afterall, this was a punishment enacted by Umbridge herself, and no matter how much she wanted to, Pomfrey could not disregard the rules set in place by the self-proclaimed headmaster and inquisitor.

He turns back to you quickly trying to cover the look of shame and guilt on his face.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” his voice breaks, tears of his own forming.

You could see him fighting with his own mind over something that you were sure would split your heart right down the middle.

“George?” you squeaked out once more.

“I’m so sorry…It’s my fault. I was behind in class. It should’ve been me. Not you. I should’ve protected you, I-,” he finally lets it all come rushing out.

You cut him off by placing your good hand on his cheek, giving him a difficult and very broken smile. Your voice comes out raspy from the sobs you had forced down but determined now, as soon as you hear the pain in George's own voice. “No. This decision was mine, George. All mine…” you give the faintest of laughs, almost in disbelief. “And yet, I can’t find the mind to regret it… I would do it again… and again.”

He leaned into your touch, eyes wincing as you revealed to him that you would take this punishment and this pain for him once again.

“Look at me?” you whispered.

He brought his eyes up to meet yours. Your voice was a little bit clearer now, although wavering ever so slightly.

“My decision. Please do not take that away from me, Georgie. It was my decision to make, and I am so glad that I did. You are so smart. You know that, right?” You looked up at him from under your eyelashes through the now silent and mild tears that streamed down your face.

He shook his head. He couldn’t bring himself to even begin to describe himself as smart. If that were true, he thought, he would’ve found a way to be there with you. If that were true, you wouldn’t have been there at all. He couldn’t understand, how through all of the terror and pain, you were the one to comfort him. He simply began to unwrap the bandages from their place on the table and started to wrap them tightly around your hand to stop the blood from dripping any longer, a lot of it starting to dry already. When he was finished, you took your good hand and placed it on his cheek once again. You pulled him into a sweet, soft, salty kiss.

“Smart. Clever. Kind. Brave. Gentle,” you muttered these words in his ear as you rested your head on his shoulder, and he once again pulled you into his lap, this time, towards him.

“The strongest girl I know, so beautiful, so loving…,” he muttered back, caressing your hair, trailing off into magical, sweet nothings that mean quite everything to both of you.

“I love you, Georgie,” you whisper.

“I love you, darling,” he says.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” you ask the beautiful, ginger boy that you love so dearly.

“I will always stay with you, my love,” he says as he begins to lift your body from the couch to carry to your dorm. There the two of you find comfort in each other’s embrace, finally drifting off into a deep sleep.