#by the time you’re reading this i’m probably studying

[lily-fics-11]

I Can See You: Chapter 9 (Ellie Williams, TLOU)

I Can See You

Fic master post here

*Not beta read

Chapter 9

A night out at a party and a day l in bed with Ellie.

Word count: 3.7k

CW: *Ellie and reader are both 18*, profanities, sexual innuendo/references, drinking, mentions of weed, sexual situation that almost gets smutty

On Friday night you and Ellie text until she passes out. You can tell she was trying to stay up to talk to you because she fell asleep without saying goodnight.

In the morning, she sends you an adorable good morning text and apologizes profusely for falling asleep on you. 

You text a lot throughout the day and in the evening, you go over to Nicole’s house to eat dinner and get ready for the party. 

About a million questions are asked about your date with Ellie before you’ve even made it all the way into the house. 

Getting ready all together you eat dinner, do your hair and makeup, and help each other pick out what to wear.

Upon arriving at the party with your friends you all grab drinks. 

Ellie wasn't there yet but she must have arrived soon after because within 15 minutes of being there you feel arms wrap around your waist and you smell the familiar scent of the woodsy fragrance she wears. 

“Hello beautiful,” she whispers in your ear. You turn around in her arms to kiss her. 

“Hi pretty girl,” you smile widely, seeing the way that the nickname flusters Ellie.

When you turn back towards your friends, she smiles at them and waves. 

“It’s nice to see you guys,” Ellie says to them.

“You too!” Teresa says with excitement. Melissa gives her a smile and a nod. Nicole smirks looking at Caroline’s reaction, she is looking Ellie up and down with suspicion. 

“Do you mind if I steal her for a few minutes?” Ellie asks nervously, directing the question at everyone but glancing nervously at Caroline.

“Of course!” Teresa answers for everyone. Nicole and Melissa laugh at Caroline, who Ellie is looking at for the final verdict.

“Fine,” Caroline sighs, seeing how happy you are and how desperate Ellie is for approval.

Ellie thanks them and takes you by the hand over to her friends.

Brooke is the first to say hi, she lets go of her boyfriend Danny to give you a hug which you were not expecting.

“Uh, hi?” It comes out as a question because you weren’t expecting such a warm greeting. 

“It’s so nice to meet you!” She says that like she’s never seen you before, despite that fact you’ve been going to the same school since kindergarten. 

“It’s nice to meet you too…” You play along for Ellie’s sake. It’s not worth getting into. 

Danny shakes your hand and introduces himself.

Mark does the same, but being the player that he is he’s clearly checking you out. He pats Ellie on the back and smirks. “Nice!”

Anna and Tim who are suspicious of you study you, though they seemed surprised by how attractive you are. They probably heard that you were her tutor and expected some movie cliche. They reluctantly say hi.

“It’s nice to meet you guys,” you smile at them, praying that you’re making a good first impression. 

“So… you’re Ellie’s girlfriend.” Anna asks as if she doesn’t quite believe it.

“Yeah,” you smile, loving the sound of being called that.

“Ellie’s first girlfriend! It’s so exciting!” Brooke practically sings. She’s clearly been waiting for this moment for a long time. 

“You are not what I expected,” Mark chuckles, still checking you out. Ellie gives him a little shove, they both laugh and he rolls his eyes, begrudgingly stopping his eyes from wandering over your figure. 

“You’ve made Ellie and I better friends, we’ve bonded over having really awesome girlfriends.” Danny kisses the top of Brooke’s head. 

Looking at Ellie you reply “that’s so sweet.”

“Now I don’t have to worry about calling girls the wrong name”, Mark laughs.

“Have you actually done that?” You laugh. 

“Well I’ve done it on purpose twice, those girls were bitchy to Ellie and I wanted to piss them off. The other… I’m not sure how many times… those were all accidents. I swear!”

The whole group starts laughing, as if that is not at all true. Brooke and Danny make small talk, congratulating you on being the valedictorian and your Ivy League acceptances. Ellie told them all about it, they said she’s so proud of you. The small talk comes to a natural end after discussing your days and Ellie’s lacrosse and the weather. It went better than expected and you are very grateful for that.

With her arm around your waist Ellie gets drinks for both of you. Alcohol isn’t necessary for you to have a good time together but there’s nothing wrong with a little buzz. After making your way back over to your friends and Ellie successfully chatting with them the two of you finish your drinks and grab more. Once they are poured Ellie takes you by the hand and drags you to where people are dancing.

“I didn’t think you were much of a dancer,” you tease Ellie and she smirks. “I’m not, but I want to see you dance, baby.”

Wrapping your arms around Ellie’s neck she firmly plants her hands on your waist. Her grip is possessive, anyone that looks at the two of you will know that you are hers. It’s not a way she’s ever been with another girl. She’s never felt the way she does about you about anyone else. You begin moving to the music, Ellie watches in awe of how hot you are. 

Out of the corner of your eye you notice a lot of eyes on you. You and Ellie together is not something that anyone expected. 

People were watching when you started dancing and people watched you all night. It makes you anxious at first but eventually you finish your third drink and are having too good of a time to care. With Ellie holding you like this you could do just about anything. 

At the end of the night Ellie doesn’t want to say goodbye. Neither do you, but she’s a little more dramatic about it. The couple of drinks she had, it ended up being a few more than you, certainly aren’t helping. But her clinginess is just so damn cute. 

With her arms around your waist and her face in the crook of your neck she whines “Baby I’m going to miss you so much!”

“Me too pretty girl, how about we hang out tomorrow? It’s spring break this week so I don’t have to get any homework done.”

Ellie perks up and pulls away to look at your face. “Really?!”

“Of course, Ellie. I’m your girlfriend, so I kind of like you!” You giggle at the way her mood changed so suddenly at the thought of getting to see each other. The way her face lights up with excitement makes you want to kiss her all over it. You settle for a kiss on her nose and she giggles too.

Ellie Williams? Giggling? Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe she’s just that down bad for you. Probably both. 

The kiss goodbye that Ellie gives is over the stop. Long, drawn out, and romantically passionate. When she pulls away from you a goofy grin is plastered across her flushed face. Is she blushing from the alcohol or from that kiss? Probably both.

Your friends are watching nearby. Caroline is over it, Nicole thinks PDA is gross, Melissa is laughing at those two, and Teresa looks like she’s watching a Nicolas Sparks movie. As for Ellie’s friends, Brooke and Danny are too busy sucking each other's faces to really notice, Mark left with a girl a while ago. The other two are actually waiting next to your friends for Ellie, surprisingly, though they are getting pretty impatient. 

Nicole’s older sister picks you and your friends up. Everyone is buzzing about Ellie. 

Back at Nicole’s house it’s hard to go to sleep, thinking about and texting, Ellie but eventually you pass out. 

The next morning you wake up to a good morning text from Ellie and she wants to pick you up from Nicole’s house so you can hang out as soon as possible. You talk her out of it so that you have time to shower and make yourself look nice for her before hanging out.

After leaving Nicole’s you go home and get ready, opting for cute but comfortable clothes since you are just hanging out around her house today. 

Once you are ready and drive over you arrive at Ellie’s in the early afternoon. You wave to Joel, who is outside mowing the lawn before Ellie lets you in. 

She grabs you by the waist and drags you in for a long kiss.

“Hello beautiful,” she smiles, admiring your face after she kisses you. 

Ellie takes you into her room and it’s even more Ellie than you expected. The space posters, the knickknacks and figurines, plus a ton of hand drawn sketches. 

“Did you make those?” You ask, pointing up at the drawings.

“The sketches? Yeah!” Ellie says as if it’s obvious. 

“You never told me you could draw!” You exclaim, playfully punching her arm. 

Ellie shrugs and blushes a little. “It’s just something I do for fun sometimes.”

A charcoal drawing of a T-Rex catches your eye, you get a little closer to it and notice the intricate details. “Ellie, this is really good. And I’m not just saying that you’re really talented.”

Looking back at Ellie her gaze is fixed on the floor. “Thanks,” she says sheepishly. That shy little look on her face melts your heart. You close the distance between the two of you and tilt her face back up to look at you with your index finger on her chin.

“You never cease to amaze me, Ellie Williams. You’re such a special girl,” you tell her softly. 

“I… but… I’m not… that special,” Ellie stutters, averting her gaze, freckled cheeks blazing red. 

“Look at me Ellie.” You firmly but gently tell her and she looks up, her eyes similar to that of a little puppy. “I think you are the most special girl in the world.”

“You are!” She replies a little defensively, as if only one of you is allowed to be, and that makes you giggle.

Ellie wraps her arms around you and kisses your forehead before nuzzling her face into your neck. “What did I do to deserve you?” She asks as if it’s some sort of philosophical question. 

“You won trivia,” you tease. 

She pulls away from you and you see that her eyes are closed. “Close your eyes!” She requests with excitement.

“Why?” You laugh. 

“Just do it.” Sighing, you close your eyes, unsure of what she is up to.

“I didn’t know the color of your eyes that day that I played trivia, but I do now.” Ellie goes on to describe your eyes in vivid detail. She starts with the color. Ellie compares your eyes to different things in nature she has noticed that remind her of you because they are the same color. 

“There is so much passion in your eyes, but also compassion and empathy. Then there’s all that determination and wisdom beyond your years. I love the way they light up when you get excited about something. Like when I get a question right on my homework? Seeing that happiness in your eyes just makes it ten times better. You look at me in a way I only dreamed of being looked at.”

It almost brings you to tears, the way she talks about your eyes and admires them as if they are a priceless work of art. Ellie places a gentle kiss on your lips when you are left speechless. After she pulls away you open your eyes to see her smiling at you.

“I’m so happy you are mine,” she whispers as if saying it too loudly would jinx it.

“Me too Els.” You smile and she blushes at the nickname. 

“You’re MY girlfriend.” Ellie says after getting distracted by looking at your face for a long moment. “That’s crazy.”

“So crazy.”

“The craziest.”

The two of you cuddle up in bed together to watch movies after deciding on Star Wars. 

At one point you pause the movie and go to the bathroom, when you come back Ellie ambushes you with a lightsaber. 

“If this was real you would be dead!” She says quite seriously, as if getting attacked with a lightsaber is something that you should be concerned about actually happening. 

“Maybe if I wasn’t unarmed, I would stand a better chance,” you tease. 

“You’re absolutely right,” she sighs and opens her closet to pull out another lightsaber. She hands it to you, and you start swinging it around, trying to get the hang of it. 

Ellie gets into a fighting stance and so do you, giggling at how cute and nerdy she is while being so serious. Ellie starts doing these crazy tricks, like this is something she practiced in her free time. If these were real lightsabers, you would be done for. 

Ellie laughs at you with so much affection. “I think sticking to tutoring is your best bet babe. You’re about as good at fighting with a lightsaber as you are at playing lacrosse.”

“That’s because I don’t have any training!” You defend yourself. 

“Then you can be my padawan. I will teach you the Jedi way.”

“Why thank you baby. Now I can protect myself from the dark side.”

Ellie wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you to her for a kiss. “I gotta take care of my girl.”

The lightsaber practice worked up quite an appetite, so you search her kitchen for a snack. She finds a box of cookie mix.

“We could make cookies,” she suggests.

“Have you ever baked anything before?” You question, feeling like she is more the type to forget to eat then to go through the effort of making something like cookies. 

Ellie shrugs. “I know how to get baked.”

“Oh I’m sure you,” you giggle. “And to be quite honest, I can’t imagine that you’re any good at baking. This type of baking.”

Ellie clutches her chest in mock offense. 

“Come on Ellie, when was the last time you baked anything in this oven?”

“Honestly? Joel and I don’t really bake. This was supposed to be for the lacrosse team bake sale but we were worried it wasn’t going to come out good so we bought something at the store instead,” Ellie admits with a sigh. 

“Since you are so kindly teaching me how to use a lightsaber I will teach you how to bake,” you kiss her cheek.

Ellie focuses on the task at hand, determined to make the best cookies you have ever tasted. “Only the best for my girl!” She keeps saying. 

Following your instructions, she is meticulous. You got the instructions from the box, but she wants to hear them from you. She says that because you are her tutor she learns things better from you then from reading it. 

After the dough is ready and put in the oven the two of you get in her bed together while the cookies bake. You sit with your arms encircling Ellie’s waist, head on her shoulder, her chin on the top of your head. Her arm is around you and she occasionally plays with your hair. 

At some point while you wait Joel announces his departure for the rest of the afternoon, making sure to comment on how good the kitchen smells and asking you to save some for him.

When the timer goes off you have to stop Ellie from sticking her hand into the oven and pulling the tray out without an oven mitt. She was so excited to have made cookies for you that she forgot. You also have to remind her that they need to cool, and you can’t eat them right away and she is disappointed, highly anticipating your review in hopes of impressing you.

The cookies eventually cool down enough to be eaten. Ellie looks at the tray and picks out what she claims is the best cookie for you to try. 

She watches you expectantly as you take the first bite. It came out really good and you smile when you taste it, Ellie's look of anticipation turns to triumph. 

“Since you made it for me, this is the best cookie I’ve ever had?” You tell her.

“Really?!” Ellie questions. 

“Yes, really!” You giggle. “Is there anything you aren’t good at?”

“Resisting your charm and beauty. Being away from you. Paying attention to anything other than you when we are together,” Ellie starts to list her weaknesses, all jokes aside. 

You kiss her cheek and tell Ellie how cute she is.

“You are even cuter,” she smiles, holding your face in her chin 

Picking up a cookie you hold it out to her. “Going to try one of the cookies?”

“I was so excited for you to try it that I forgot,” Ellie admits. Instead of taking the cookie into her own hand she just takes a bite out of it while you hold it. A bunch of crumbs fall and she tries to catch them but they fall to the floor. 

“Oops,” her cheeks go a little red, her mouth full, but then she finishes chewing. You just giggle at how endearing she is, how impossibly adorable she can be even if she’s talking with her mouth full. 

The two of you bend down at the same time to clean up the crumbs and bump heads. You both fall over laughing, in the middle of the kitchen floor. Ellie gets up first after picking up the crumbs and throwing them out. Then she turns to help you up. Ellie pulls you off the ground and into her arms. She presses her lips to yours gently. She tastes like cookies. And also joy and happiness and magic.

Forgetting about the cookies she drags you into her room. Before you know it she is hovering over you, straddling your waist on her bed. Ellie’s hands are on either side of your head while she stares into your eyes. She does that for a moment, she admires you, before lowering her face to yours and kissing you. 

Ellie tries to take her time, be sweet and gentle, but you are impatient and she doesn’t stop you when you deepen the kiss. The two of you have been dying to do this. You’ve spent time being sweet with each other and excitement has gotten the best of you both. You grab her by the back of the neck and press her closer to you. Your teeth biting at her bottom lip before sliding your tongue over it. 

Ellie parts her lips and your tongue slides into her mouth, tasting her and savoring it. The two of you explore each other's mouths before she pulls away to start peppering kissing along your jawline and down your neck. At first she is gentle, then starts nipping and sucking, trying to find a sweet spot. When she does it elicits a moan from you, she smiles against your neck before focusing on that spot, shamelessly leaving a mark. 

Ellie is possessive, and you like that. Love it.

Her kisses trail down to your collarbone and she’s stopped from moving lower by your shirt. She paws at the hem until you lift your arms over your head so she can pull it off. You’re wearing something cute underneath… which is obviously a coincidence and not at all planned… Ellie stops to admire it, a cocky smirk on her face. 

“Wear this just for me?” She teases.

“Oh no. ‘Course not. Just happened to put it on this morning,” you giggle and Ellie playfully rolls her eyes before continuing to leave kisses on every inch of exposed skin beneath her. 

“You look good for me baby girl. All for me,” she whispers against your skin, her warm breath and possessive tone sending shivers down your spine. 

“All for you,” you tell her and she looks at you hungrily, loving the sound of those words coming out of your mouth. When you realize just how much it turns you want to feed into it.

“Ellie, I'm yours. Your girl, you girlfriend. I want you. I need you. I’ve been wanting this for so long. I’ve been… aching… for this. Since our first kiss. I’ve known since then that I had to have you.”

Ellie moans when she hears that. “Fuck pretty girl,” and she pulls your back off the bed just enough for you to take off your bra and discard it. She connects her mouth to one of your nipples and as much as your head wants to fall back in pleasure she looks too good like this not to watch. Her mouth eventually gives attention to your other nipples and then trails down your body to the waistband of your pants.

Ellie’s long fingers start to fiddle with the string on your pants, eyes meeting yours. The green in her eyes is hardly visible, her pupils blow so wide with lust. She bites her lip, asking for permission and you nod, so she slowly unties the pants. 

Once the pants are untied Ellie pulls them down, eyes taking over her legs as she does. Ellie’s mouth looks like it is about to start watering at the sight of you in just your underwear after the pants are discarded. She runs her hands up and down your bare legs before leaning in and placing gentle kisses on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The tenderness of Ellie’s lips on that delicate skin that makes you mumble “more.” 

That sets Ellie over the edge.

Underwear hooked on her fingers Ellie practically whips them off of you, neither of you know where they land and she dives right into you.

A/N: I didn’t know how smutty to get here guys and I’ve been going back and forth on whether or not to take it any further but I’m leaving it off here so y'all can let me know if you want more! That’s why the word count is a little lower than usual lol. Also sorry for being a liar because I said this chapter would be out before Christmas. Turns out I ended up briefly crashing out and also had trouble making decisions. I love you all and wish you all a Happy New Year❤️ 

Tags: @bready101, @st4r-b3rries, @tlou-bombshell, @stvrs13, @everegretseverything, @mikellie , @lamolaine, @0pheli4 , @soupycloud, @radioheadfan699 , @callmelola111, @hysteriawillnotsuccumb , @normalthing111 , @3isosoup, @lmaoo-spiderman, @cqliflower, @ellstronaut, @boobdrug, @liasxeatt , @that-queer-fanbase , @benthoee, @charminglilly , @ellieslittleslutt, @dinanellie, @h4by43iie, @autisticintr0vert

[hksdlgsyappage]

Scenario: Spencer Reid Gaslights Derek Morgan with Made-up Facts

The BAU office, late afternoon. The team is gathered around the table, debriefing after a case. Spencer Reid, ever the master of obscure facts and trivia, notices that Derek Morgan is making a bold claim about something trivial. Spencer, with his usual deadpan humor, decides to playfully gaslight him with "facts" he's made up on the spot.*

---

Derek Morgan:(grinning) “I’m telling you, man, I know I’m right. The best way to stay awake during a long stakeout is to eat a banana. You get the potassium boost, plus it gives you energy without that crash.”

Spencer Reid: (without missing a beat, feigning deep thought) “Actually, Derek, that’s not true. In fact, bananas have a very low concentration of the kind of potassium that would actually help you stay awake. It’s more of a myth. What you really need is a fruit with higher levels of magnesium—like a papaya.”

Derek Morgan: (laughs, shaking his head) “Papaya? Man, you’re trippin’. I’ve been eating bananas my whole life, and they’ve been keeping me awake just fine. You’re gonna sit here and tell me I’m wrong?”

Spencer Reid: (smiling like he’s about to drop some major knowledge)* “Well, see, that’s the thing. You’re probably confusing it with the fact that bananas are actually known for inducing a mild state of sleepiness due to the high levels of tryptophan. It’s the same thing in turkey. They just don’t advertise it because it would ruin the snack food market.”

Derek Morgan: (laughs loudly, rolling his eyes)* “You’re pulling my leg, man. Everyone knows bananas keep you awake. I read it in *Men’s Health* last month.”

Spencer Reid:(nonchalantly) “Funny you mention Men’s Health. In the latest study published there, they found that bananas only affect energy levels if consumed at precisely 3:17 PM. Any other time of day, it has the opposite effect. You must’ve been reading the wrong issue.”

Derek Morgan: (staring at him, narrowing his eyes) “Spencer, I swear you’re messing with me now. There’s no way you’ve got some Men’s Health issue with ‘banana science’ like that. What are you, a walking encyclopedia?”

Spencer Reid: (shrugging, deadpan) “Actually, it’s more like a walking hypertext database. I remember reading about this exact phenomenon. Also, just so you know, bananas are classified as berries in botanical terms. Did you know that?”

Derek Morgan: (pauses, looking completely confused)* “Wait… they’re what?!”

Spencer Reid: (smiling slightly) “Yep. You’d think a banana would be a fruit. But in the scientific world, it’s technically a berry. I’d be careful if I were you. If you keep calling them fruits, you might get kicked out of botany class.”

Derek Morgan: (staring at him in disbelief) “Man, you’re full of it today.”

Spencer Reid:(with a shrug) “I mean, I could go on. Did you know that, in 1832, a French botanist successfully crossbred a banana with a cactus? That’s why modern bananas are so resilient in extreme temperatures.”

Derek Morgan:(holding his head in his hands) “Spence, I’m about to lose it on you. I don’t know what’s worse—that you’re making this up or that you might actually be right about some of it.”

Spencer Reid:(grinning) “I think you’ll find that most of what I say is based on factual accuracy, Derek. You just have to learn to distinguish between truth and, well… my interpretation of it.”

Derek Morgan:(laughs, shaking his head) “I swear, man, you could convince someone that the sky’s green if you said it with enough confidence.”

Spencer Reid: (eyes widening dramatically) “Actually, the sky is green, but only at very specific latitudes, right around the equator. But that’s a whole other conversation for another day.”

Derek Morgan: (groaning in exasperation) “I’m done. You’ve officially broken me, Reid. I’m going home. I’m never looking at a banana the same way again.”

The rest of the team, watching from the sidelines, shares a knowing look as Derek walks out, muttering about bananas and cacti.

---

[spoonmoment119]

the real sexyman was the friends we made along the way

[shorthaltsjester]

begging twitter to stop showing me tweets of people with no reading comprehension misrepresenting things I said but since i was going to make this more in-depth post Anyway .

when i say imogen is better read as a metaphor for generational trauma than she is a metaphor for queerness or chronic pain, i’m not talking about legitimate traits she has as a character. obviously she is queer. obviously she experiences some form of chronic pain (though i would argue her magic better suits chronic illness not pain because she states that it’s Not always painful, but it does always influence how she lives her life).

when i talk about how well she’s understood as a metaphor, i’m talking about when i’m looking at her as a part of a story, as an arc that i am witnessing rather than in the more typical fandom way of this is a fictional person who interacts with exandria as real people do. and that is a fun way to interact with characters, i enjoy it a lot! but when i say imogen (to me, as i for some reason have to clarify on my own blog which implies that these are my own opinions and not absolute fact that needs to be accepted by people on the internet with different experience and opinions than me) is best read as a metaphor for generational trauma, it isn’t a dismissal of her queerness or her illness, it’s just me thinking looking at her from that angle is more compelling.

imogen has been one of my favourite characters and least favourite characters in campaign 3 because i tend to analyse her through a lens of generational trauma and she ends up looking extremely familiar to me as someone with a family that carries their’s heavily which is as comforting as it is frustrating.

for me the main thing that looking at imogen through a queer lens of literary analysis fails to account for is harm. on the one hand - the harm that imogen experiences, not because of how people treat her for who she is, but that exists simply as a factor of her being ruidusborn. on the other hand a the harm that imogen causes. not to say that she is some malicious villain waiting for her chance to harm others, but that there are things about being ruidusborn that very much do incline her towards violence in a way that she might not otherwise be - i think about the conversation after she went nuclear and chet brought up people being scared of her connecting that to her father keeping distance. the only harm that queerness provides comes from society, and that isn’t the case in exandria. even metaphorically, the thing that society fears in ruidusborn people (while it has certainly been exacerbated by centuries of superstition and practices like we saw in zephrah) is a tangible threat. imogen’s magic when not controlled can wipe out a city block, but queerness poses no threat.

that’s why i’m not compelled by imogen’s backstory as a queer metaphor. not because i’m some imodna anti (i very emphatically am not but this fandom kinda makes me wish i was sometimes) or because i think exandria’s lack of homophobia/transphobia means that characters can’t be viewed through a queer lens or that critical role doesn’t contain some of the most compelling queer metaphor i’ve encountered. imogen just isn’t one of those characters, not because she isn’t queer, or because i think her story shouldn’t resonate with queer people, just because i find the generational trauma angle more consistent.

it’s similar with the chronic illness angle, which i will refer to as illness but you’re welcome to emphasise pain, we all have different vocabularies for the experiences we face. but just to give context i’m running off laura’s comparison of imogen’s powers to her own sensory issues and anxiety which while often Lead to pain, fall more into chronic illness in imogen’s context to me. and i do think there’s substantial comparison for imogen’s story as a metaphor for chronic illness, but i think that was much more true earlier in the campaign than it is looking at her from the current context. her beginning motivation being her search for knowledge about her powers really resonated with me as similar to someone experiencing symptoms of chronic illness but who could neither figure out how to treat them or what they were caused by.

but then imogen got more information, specifically about her mother, and her priority became not understanding her powers but understanding her current state as a person - how had she become the person she is, inclusive of her powers but very much emphasising her lack of a mother who became more and more present in the unweaving web of ruidusborn lore. that’s when i was less compelled by the chronic illness reading and more compelled by viewing her as a metaphor for generational trauma. had that not been enough on its own, imogen’s visit to relvin and her recent thoughts on her mother would be enough to convince me.

the part that makes me hesitant about this post is that generational trauma is so intensely linked to the contexts under which it is created and perpetuated. so i can’t really point to specific scenes as evidence of specific things that prove generational trauma is the most compelling and i don’t really want to unload that much of my own experience to clarify my thoughts on a character. but vaguely, i will say that imogen’s relationship with her parents is obviously the clearest source for my reading her as a metaphor for generational trauma. the fact that relvin, the only person in her family without the thing that draws society’s ire, is also the person that she has the most willing anger at is also indicative of this to me. in general, imogen’s rage that so easily transitions into sadness and vice versa comes out a lot in conversations about parents. most recently, i think about ashton’s lovely speech about found family and his distrust about parents and how as they were speaking, laura seemed to be playing imogen as sadly in thought versus months ago when fearnes parents showed up with striking similarities to liliana and imogen’s words of wisdom were let’s hurt them all.

and like. to me that angersadnessvengeancegrief is particularly evocative of the feelings that arise when you are in a family with generational trauma, especially when you are aware of it. because imogen can and has followed the logical steps that have led her and her family to where they are. early on when recounting her relationship with her dad she seemed wistful but understanding of the distance between them. in nearly every encountered with a parental figure imogen seems to be some level of distrusting for the most part, but she’s still holding out hope that her mother will see the good side. and further, there’s the complication of how dire her losing her powers seems to be, and how inextricable her powers are from every aspect of her life. she’s also southern and from a blue collar family. this means nothing except it also means a whole lot.

this is messy and not well organised but if you want a good essay you’re gonna have to pay me money for it but tldr: i say things i believe on my This Is My Opinion Blog and i don’t think i need to explain my thoughts to strangers on the internet but this was already half written in my drafts and if people are gonna shit on my opinions please at least do it in good faith and shit on my actual opinions not the ones you’ve decided i have.

[sailforvalinor]

.

[godblooded]

big write up on how my rhaegar is my own interpretation (and how behind i am on westerosi literature) coming soon to a dash near you.

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Arcane preference]reacting to their s/o calling them husband/wife for the first time

I’ve finished the first chapter of the long fic about Universe 7 (Anytime it rains). As soon as my second beta reader gives me the okay, I’ll post it. While I wait, I’ve written the first headcanon (out of three I’m definitely planning to write and post in the next few days) and picked up the drawing of Steb I’d left unfinished. I’m slow, as usual, but English isn’t my first language, and I’m juggling a lot of things at once. Enjoy!

socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 | poster: | Jayce poster | | Silco poster | |Silco +self insert poster 1| | Steb poster | if you want to read the fluff longfic with vander and his happy family + Silco x reader you can find it here! ↠ Masterlist

Jayce:

-This man is planning to put a ring on your finger as soon as possible, okay? -Between the academy, public appearances, and both theoretical and practical studies, there isn’t a single moment when he’s really in the right mindset to bring up the topic -The worst part is that, deep down, he’s terrified of putting pressure on you -That’s why, the first time he hears you refer to him as “my husband” during a gala with noble families, he almost chokes -He has to gather all his strength not to grab the interlocutor by the shoulders and ask if they also heard you say that word -He’ll try to keep his composure, maybe responding to your remark with, “Yes, exactly. Her husband really did say/do/design that.”

Viktor:

-It’s not a thought he’s ever really entertained; it never crossed his mind -Part of it is that science is his priority, and part of it is that marriage doesn’t seem like something meant for people like him, -The first time you call him “your husband”, that thought suddenly becomes real in his head, and he can’t help but lean against a wall and wait for the other person to leave -“So, I’m your husband now, huh? Mmm… I don’t mind, a bit pretentious, though…” he jokes, making you roll your eyes -Now, more than ever, he has no idea what to do. He’ll give you a bronze ring from a machine he’s building -“Until I can get one worthy of you.”

Ekko:

-Yes -That’s it -The end -Okay, seriously. The idea of being certain that something will last forever is probably his greatest wish -The first time you call him your husband, he doesn’t see it coming -“Wait, you’re married?” -“I was talking about you, Ekko.” -The moment you say it, he points to his chest, you see his lip tremble slightly, and his eyes grow shinier -He won’t stop talking about it for a week, and at least once a day, he’ll ask if you still want to marry him, if you’re sure, if you love him -No rings before S2; the promise is made by drawing something for each other on your masks and clothes -After S2, he still can’t afford a ring, but now that life is more stable, he can start thinking about a more traditional gift, like a piece of jewelry

Vander:

-This man is ravenous for any family role you might offer him—fiancé, father, husband. Anything goes -The first time you call him “husband”, he plays it cool but will seize the first opportunity to return the favor by telling a customer you’re married -As soon as he can, he’ll squeeze your hand, even under the counter -The idea of being married and having a complete family is everything he’s ever wanted -He won’t stop calling you “my beautiful wife/husband” from that moment on.

-You said it first; you can’t take it back. Now you have to get married

Silco (old man):

-This man’s only sin is loving too much, but I’ll save that reflection for another post -Having no ties other than his illegitimate daughter doesn’t make him someone who’s particularly keen on formalities -The first time you call him “your husband” is in front of Sevika, and he slowly turns to look at you, while she slowly turns to look at him -“Did I... miss something?” Sevika asks, but he doesn’t reply, still perplexed, before glancing at her and saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” -He’s relieved but doesn’t show it. He can’t afford to just yet -As soon as he confirms you were serious, your name will be flamboyantly forgotten—he’ll constantly refer to you as “my wife/husband”

Silco (young):

-The man who survives on love -The first time you call him your husband is in front of Vander, and while Vander bursts out laughing, Silco chokes on his drink -“Are you serious?” He’s so happy that his pale iris are completely swallowed by his dilated pupils -He grabs a pen and draws a ring around your finger -To his credit, he works in a mine, so it’s hard to do better than that, but it becomes the goal that keeps him going -Completely focused on family, the future, and anything that sees the two of you together and happy

Steb:

-The first time you call him your husband is at a dinner among enforcer families, and being mute doesn’t stop him from stealing the spotlight -He whips around, blinking slowly with only his third eyelid in a gesture of confusion -When he’s 100% sure he understood what you said, his eyes widen, the small membranes under his eyes flutter madly, and even the barely visible gills near his jaw gasp for a moment -Someone says, “I didn’t know you were married,” and he immediately nods enthusiastically, not giving you time to take it back -Within 48 hours, he’ll have the ring ready

Jinx:

-The first time you call her “your wife”, she freezes -“What did you just call me?” -She’s used to being a little sister, a big sister, a daughter���she’d never thought she could be a wife. Family ties aren’t chosen, but the idea that someone would want her in their life so much they’d marry her feels incredible -“You want to marry me? Really? Why?” -She bursts into tears, and it’ll take at least 24 hours of cuddling in bed to calm her down -After that, she’ll run to her father to announce that she’s now a married woman

Vi:

-She might not be Silco and/or Vander’s blood daughter, but she’s inherited their deep desire for family -From her family’s tragic fate to Vander’s, she’s always seen family as the ultimate aspiration -When you call her “your wife” for the first time, she doesn’t notice right away, but a full minute later, she whirls around to look at you, as if to ask for confirmation -“Say it again.” -“...You need to buy bread?” -“No, all of it.” -“My wife needs to go buy bread.” -“Again.”

-"My... wife?"

-"Again"

Caitlyn:

-Has she thought about it? Yes -Was she planning to act on it? Not exactly -Caitlyn struggles with emotions and feelings, which is why she hesitates and takes her time -But when you first call her “your wife”, her brain completely shuts off—she just stares at you, unable to hear a single word being said -If you or someone else asks her a question, she’ll snap out of it and respond, -“My wife/husband said everything.” Even if it makes no sense as an answer, making you laugh and leaving the other person baffled

Mel:

-Not a single flicker of surprise—the first time you call her “your wife”, she remains completely composed -“So, I’m your wife?” she asks as soon as you’re in private, approaching you like a feline. You can almost hear the purr in her voice -She’s amused but also intrigued by whatever game you’re playing -The idea of marriage is complicated for her—on one hand, it feels like it would limit her freedom to act, while on the other, unresolved family issues seem to devour her at the mere thought of starting a new cycle -She’ll tell you to go ahead, to get married, but she’ll also ask for time -In the meantime, though, she’ll start using the term “husband/wife” with you—she likes the way it rolls off her tongue

Sevika:

-Between the work she does, the environment she lives in, and all the interesting circumstances of her life, marriage has never been on her radar -Not to mention that in Zaun, it’s not exactly a common practice—people just move in together and build families when they can, without much fuss over formalities or bureaucracy -The first time it happens, she’s playing cards with the other goons, and you casually ask if “your wife is winning” -Her first reaction isn’t even hers—it’s the others’. Dustin, the blond goon with the lazy eye, almost starts crying, embarrassing her -Don’t worry, she’ll make you pay for it at home -She won’t ask to formalize anything, but in true Zaunite fashion, she’ll consider you married, plain and simple

[fairy-angel222]

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—in which toji is constantly fucking women and disturbing your peace. your complaints lead to you becoming one of them.

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! college reader

cw: smut, breeding, daddy kink, size kink, age gap, toji being a cocky prick, unsafe sex, ass slapping, mentions of cervix touching

Ever since you heard about your next door neighbor Mr. Fushiguro going through a divorce, things have been hell. For you.

From the day he first moved into the apartment, constantly arguing on the phone with his ex wife about whose turn it was to watch his son, Megumi.

When Megumi is over, everything’s quiet, and you finally get a chance to rest your head and relax in peace. Doing some studying and cleaning in the quiet atmosphere.

You wished the black haired boy would stay for just a day longer, because Toji is back to his usual self hours later. Bringing in young college girls one after the other. Fucking them hard against his headboard as they let out loud cries of daddy. It was annoying. You could even stay inside anymore to get work done.

At every hour of the day he seemed to be active, fucking through all sorts of women, the shaking of your thin bedroom wall never coming to an end as high pitched moans echoed through.

It was getting to the point where you couldn’t take it. You were so fed up. Didn’t he ever get tired? Tired of promising these young desperate girls to call them back only to throw away their numbers and fuck their friends the next day.

Weeks go by and nothing changes, Megumi coming over for a silent three days then leaving again. Giving his father enough time to fuck any feelings for his ex wife out of his system.

You swore you couldn’t take it, you had barely been able to study, occasionally spending an hour or two in a nearby café between classes. When you noticed your grades slipping, your eyes having prominent bags at the lack of sleep, you groan loudly in frustration. Finding your legs moving before you could even process it.

Your fist raising to knock on the man’s door once, then twice, with no answer. You huffed, going in to knock a third time before the door swung open. A tall, muscular man towering over you with a scowl. “What?”

Your eyes widened as you scanned over his body, his perfectly sculpted face, broad shoulders, defined abs, and the very distinct outline in his sweats.

The man cleared his throat, a smirk gracing his face when he startled you out of your intense drooling. “Now, what do we have here?” he chuckled deeply, tilting his head to the side with crossed arms as he rested against the door’s frame. “Here to get your turn doll?”

You gulped, finding it harder to spit out your words as the Fushiguro man stared you down. “I.. I’m here to ask you to keep the noise down, some people have actual work to do.”

Toji whistled, “Oh? A bold one huh? I like it,” His hand reaching under your chin to make you look fully up at him. “you’re a pretty little thing you know,” he spoke, running his thumb along your bottom lip, “wonder what you’d look like ruined underneath me.”

You ignored the flutter that went off in your pussy, clenching your thighs discreetly as you glared. “Just keep the noise down okay old man? I'm trying to study.”

Toji could feel his cock grow harder, you were just what he needed. “So i’m an old man now? That’s a first, usually girls like you just call me daddy.” he shrugged, “but it’s okay, you’ll get there.”

You rolled your eyes as you walked away from him, annoyance written all over your face to mask the arousal swirling in your stomach. He’d probably fucked the entire neighborhood by now, including the campus, so you weren’t gonna fall for his sick charms. You just hoped he complied and kept the place quiet, you didn’t need that usual noise the day before your big test.

Toji had surprisingly did as you asked, and you sighed in content as you read through the pages of your notes. Your pen in your hand finding itself in between your teeth as you bit down softly. You got what you wanted, so why was your mind running wild with thoughts of the Fushiguro man’s hands on your body as he fucked you like all of those other girls.

You shifted in your seat, one leg over the other to bring stimulation to your needy clit making you whimper softly. You couldn’t let yourself give in.

Another week passed and you once again found yourself in the same noisy predicament. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the man more than twice your age. Way too old for you yet just so.. hot. Toji Fushiguro had become your fantasy.

And it was unbearable.

Hearing all these moans day and night. Hearing Toji’s loud grunts and groans as he no doubt left them with the best fuck of their lives.

It was Thursday, and Megumi would be coming tomorrow per routine, so you’d finally get a break then. But, you couldn’t deny the fact that you wanted an excuse to go over there. Your face serious as you banged on his door.

You waited a minute, a shirtless Toji emerging into the door frame as it flew open. Toji smirked, “Ah, you again.” His sweatpants hung dangerously low beneath the start of his v line, black hair messy as his tongue darted out to swipe across his lips. “Finally came to your senses?”

His last fuck had left right before you came, coincidentally of course.

“N-no.” you objected sternly. “I’m here to ask you again to just be.. what are yo-“

You swallowed hard when he began stalking towards you, a sinister grin on his face as you were backed up against a wall. His breath fanned your head as he bent his neck. Hands on the walls near each side of your face. “Your face says otherwise, doll.”

“No it d-doesn’t.. you’re just a cocky old man preventing me from getting things done.”

Toji’s brow raised with a deep hearty chuckle, “Back to that nickname i see,” His hand grabbing hold of your cheeks and squeezing them together. “Gonna have to clean that mouth of yours, teach you how to be a good girl.”

You whimpered lowly, feeling wetness pool between your legs as you looked up through your lashes. Toji’s eyes trailing to your glossy lips as he inhaled sharply. “Don’t worry, this dirty old man’s lips are clean”

Pressing his lips roughly to yours, your eyes widening as you gripped the edge of your skirt with a moan. Toji smirked against your lips, his hands hooking beneath your legs as he lifted you up. Your frame so much smaller in comparison to his larger one.

Toji was quick to bring you inside. And you found yourself sitting on the man’s lap, your skirt bunched up at your hips as he hammered up into your wet cunt with brute force. His hands kneading into the flesh of your ass each time you ground your hips onto him.

You let out a loud mewl, his thick cock stretching you out and grazing against your gummy walls as he fucked you deep. Feeling him within your stomach when you cried out. “Fushiguro-san— ah, so- ngh g-ood.”

“That’s not my name doll, try again.” he growled deeply, landing his palm onto your ass in a hard slap. And you whimpered tearfully at the sting. “T-toji—” Another harsh smack burning through your flesh making you let out a cry. “Last chance.”

You moaned loudly, your back arching as Toji slammed into you. “D-daddy, ahh daddy, o-oh fuckk—,”

Toji hummed in satisfaction, “Look at you, thought i was a dirty old man hmm?” His teeth biting softly at the delicate skin of your neck, his pelvis hitting your red puffy folds relentlessly. “Moaning for me like a little slut, so fucking pretty.”

You let out a shaky cry, “Haah— F-fushiguro-san,” Your pussy clenched down on his girth, his rough hand making its way around your throat, squeezing the sides and forcing you to look at him. “Not gonna fucking tell you again.”

You mewled, “‘M sorry— nngh,” Your back arching when Toji bullied his cock deeper into you.

“Still waiting doll.” he grunted, eyes dark as his grip on your throat tightened, your moans and whimpers loud as his thighs noisily met your sticky cunt. “D-addy— ahh- so good,” you cried, feeling his angry tip forcing its way to your cervix, kissing the entrance with each harsh thrust.

“Good fucking girl, you’re getting there” he grinned with a groan. A creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, your pussy gushing messily onto him as loud squelching sounds filled the room. “Pussy’s so fucking tight— better be on the pill cause i’m botta cum in that pretty pussy, shit.”

“Ah— nngh daddy, ‘m close- gonna cum.” you whimpered, your eyes rolling back and your lips parting in a string of incoherent babbles, Toji’s thrusts sloppy as he groaned.

“Gonna cum on this old man’s dick yeah?” He teased cockily, “Had so much talk for someone who’s falling apart on my cock.” Toji grunted, “Bet ya sat there listening like a lil perv, your hand down your panties hmm?”

You shook your head no with a cry, “Uh uh- ahh— wasn’t.”

“Sure about that? Sure you didn’t sit there and fantasize about me fucking you like a little slut?” His hand reached down to rub at your clit, a loud moan escaping your mouth.

Your breathing sped up as you felt a coil buildup in your stomach. Your body shaking with pure ecstasy. You let out a high pitched scream, the stimulation to your g spot making your head go fuzzy. Vision turning white as you clenched down tightly on Toji’s cock.

“O-oh fuck— ‘m cumming— ah, cumming daddy.” Toji’s hand pressed down harder on your throat, the pressure restricting your air flow making you let out a choked mewl. Tears welling in your eyes as his heavy balls smacked against your ass.

“Nngh—” The ring of white thickened at his base as you let out whiny cries. Toji’s hand working small circles on the sensitive bud before he brought his lips to your ear. His voice deep and gruff as he groaned. “Fuck doll- squeezing me so tight, come on and scream for me.” He breathed, “make a mess on my cock.”

Toji’s mean pace became too much, a tight pull in your stomach as your mouth fell open, legs trembling with loud cries as an unfamiliar feeling washed over you.

It was heavenly, your brain going dumb and your pupils disappearing behind heavy lids as you screamed loudly, head falling back and nails digging into his shoulders as you fell off the edge.

Toji never slowing the movement of his hips, still hammering up into you despite the mess you were making on his thighs. Your pussy spraying streams after streams of clear liquid as you arched your hips, grinding back and forth to ride out your squirting orgasm.

“Even fucking louder than any of my previous fucks.” he laughed, “Wonder what the neighbors would say, went from being a whiny little bitch to being the same thing you complained about.”

You let out a whine, Toji flipping you abruptly onto your back, his hand still around your neck as the position allowing him to hit even deeper. “Fuck,” he grunted, his words in between each thrust. “gonna fucking breed that pussy so deep.” Letting out a low groan at the last thrust, his lips meeting yours in a sloppy kiss as he bottomed out.

A whimper fell past your lips into his when you felt him fill you up, his cum shooting in hot thick spurts along the walls of your cunt.

He smirked as he pulled away, watching you pant heavily. “Would make such a good breeding bunny.” Dipping his fingers past your lips and resting them on the back of your tongue. “Might have to keep you around, can’t be disturbed if you’re the one making the noise now can you?”

You shook your head tiredly, forcing your eyes to stay open as Toji pulled out of you. His sticky cum seeping out of your fluttering pussy slowly. Your brain was still so clouded, blinking in and out of blurry vision.

Toji hid the smile threatening to creep up onto his face, his face neutral as he plopped down onto the couch next to you. “Rest if you need to, then leave.” He said nonchalantly, trying to seem like his usual self despite the fact that he had not kicked you out yet. Which was something he never did, let a girl stay any longer than a second after sex.

The man would never admit it, but there was just something about you.

He wanted to make you his pretty little doll.

[sugarushwriting]

cherry popper — jake

jake x reader

getting your cherry popped by the sweet, popular athletic boy. who is also your best friend

adult content featured, read at your own discretion

[sorry not proof read]

“jake i’m a virgin.”

“okay? good for you? am i supposed to go running?”

your eyes never looked away from jake sim. athletic, popular and smart. triple kill.

and he was your best friend.

-

studying. that’s all it was supposed to be. jake sim, your best friend, helping you with your college physics course. then it somehow turned into a human anatomy lesson. all because jake couldn’t leave his phone alone for 5 seconds and was sexting a girl during the study sessions.

“jake—yah! would you pay attention? i cannot fail this exam!” you scolded, slamming your pencil down on your notebook.

jake cleared his throat, awkwardly and embarrassingly putting down his cell phone, screen to the table. “sorry.” he apologized with a mumble.

“what’s so interesting about whoever you’re texting that you’d rather do that than help your bestie pass her physics exam?” you pouted, looking at jake with a frown and puppy dog eyes.

“oh well you see—,” jake began, but then his phone buzzed once before. he went to pick up the phone, but you snatched it before he could.

“wait, you—,” he didn’t even get the chance to finish his sentence of, “wait, you might not want to.”

you screeched, face screwing in disgust as you threw his phone to the couch. then, you whipped your head to jake in disbelief, huffing.

“i can’t believe you! you seriously are sexting another girl while helping me?”

“hey, i’m sorry okay? but she sent me—,”

you held up your hand to stop him. “don’t want to hear it jake.” you sighed. “can you stop being a horn dog for like, two hours? i know you have a high sex drive, but i was hoping soccer practice would’ve tired you out.”

you weren’t mad at his sex drive. heck, if he needed to fuck like his grades depended on it, then so be it. you weren’t the one to stop him. but it did annoy you he couldn’t just turn it off long enough to help you study.

“if you can’t focus, i’ll ask someone else to help.”

“like who? jay?” jake laughed, joking.

“heeseung.” you smirked, knowing heeseung was just as smart as jake. and although jake and heeseung were friends, those two also had a competitive streak against one another. especially when it came to academics and girls.

you also knew jake was protective over you. all the boys did, but his was extra. you knew he probably warned the guys that you were off limits.

jake scoffed. “absolutely not, he’ll help you pass with an a minus at max.”

“and you?” you asked crossing your arms.

jake smiled. “i can get you that a plus.”

“jake, you can’t make miracles happen. i just need a minimum b average.”

“you know i like to go above and beyond, baby.” he winked, causing you to laugh.

“let’s just get back to work, okay?”

“okay. only because my phone disappeared in the couch.” he pouted. “she’s not gonna be happy i left her dry.”

you waved it off. “pretty sure she has a box full of toys to help her out.”

“do you?” jake asked.

your head slowly turned to jake as you was writing down a problem. “do i what?” you looked at him confused.

“have a box full of toys?”

your eyes went wide. “oh, uh, let’s focus on the studying!” you rushed out and turned back to your text book, aggressively poking at jake’s book.

after that, during the study session, jake would steal glances at you, wondering if his best friend did have a box full of toys. or even at least one toy.

jake has known you since you were six. growing up next door to one another in australia, it was fun.

beach days, arcade days, walking to school and back home together. watching him freak out over bugs that you had to be the one to get rid of.

you told jake everything. well, almost everything. he was open and free about his sex life with you. however, you weren’t the same.

jake can’t recall you telling him about times you’ve been with a guy in a sexual way. let alone even kissed a guy.

an hour and a half passed, before you two went off topic once again. your brain was fried, and you couldn’t imagine looking at another problem.

“im done for the night, i cant.” you closed your book dramatically, leaning against your couch, head thrown back.

“have you kissed a guy yet?”

you lifted your head. “jake, where did that even come from?”

jake shrugged. “just thinking about how you know so much about my sex life, but i know nothing about yours. let alone if you’ve even kissed a guy.”

“i just don’t find the need to tell you.” you mumbled, picking invisible lint from your leg.

“but why? i thought we were best friends?”

“jake, we are. there’s just never anything to tell, okay?”

“okay so tell me,” jake began, turning his body to face yours, leaning his side against the couch, “have you kissed a boy?”

“of course jake.”

“who? where? when?”

“now you sound like me and my girl friends gossiping.”

“i can be that if that’s what makes you more comfortable.”

you chuckled. “it’s fine jake.” you got comfortable leaning on your side to face him. “my first kiss was in middle school when i went on holiday with my family. second kiss was in our upper years,”

“with who?” jake’s eyebrows raised.

you smacked your lips together, “uh, yang jeongin.”

jake gasped, then laughed. “he insisted he wasn’t even going to kiss a girl until he got married!”

“yeah well,” you shrugged.

“is that all?” jake asked.

you looked down, the floor suddenly looking fun. “well, no. there’s one more.”

“who is it? when? tell me!” jake begged, getting on his knees, grabbing your hands in his.

you sighed rolling your eyes. looking at jake you said, “it was heeseung, just two months ago. more of a make out than just a kiss.”

jake let go of your hands. not mad at you, but shocked and surprised. but he was mad at heeseung as he told his friends you were clearly off limits.

“why heeseung?”

“it was at that party you dragged me to, jake. i was bored, you left me to go hook up with a girl, so heeseung kept me company.”

jake stared at you, unblinking. “so what? i’m not around and he takes his chance to get in your pants?”

“jake it’s not like that! all we did was make out, okay? he didn’t want to go further, i didn’t want to go further. it was just for fun.”

“who else knew?”

“sunghoon and jungwon. but i begged them not to say anything.”

jake scoffed in disbelief. “do you promise that’s all you did?”

“yes jake. i don’t understand why it bothers you so much! i haven’t opened my legs like a slut for your friends, okay?”

“i don’t mean it like that—,”

you stood up, now angry for some reason. “it’s getting late. you should go. i’m tired and i am sure you are too from practice. thank you for helping me.”

you walked off to your bathroom, knowing jake can let himself out.

and that he did. he walked out, ready to confront his best friend, forgetting about his cellphone, until he got to his shared apartment with his 2 other roommates, sunghoon and jay.

“is heeseung coming over?” jake asked.

jay and sunghoon were playing video games in the living room. jay answered, “not that i’m aware of? he had a late practice then a study group right after.”

jake huffed. “sunghoon, i have a bone to pick with you!”

“what did i do?”

“you knew heeseung made out with my best friend and didn’t tell me?”

jay gasped like a teen girl. “no!”

sunghoon rolled his eyes, “it wasn’t my business to tell! honestly, it’s none of your business too. just because you’re open about your sex life about other girls to her doesn’t mean she has to be the same way.”

“bullshit! it is my business.”

“you’re her best friend, not her boyfriend. she can be around any other guy without you butting in.” sunghoon stated. “even if that means it’s heeseung.”

jake kept quiet, and just stormed off to his room in a mood. as he laid on his bed, that’s when he realized he left his phone at your place.

he slapped his hands over his face and groaned.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

the next day, you took jake his phone to his apartment. sunghoon answered the door as he was on his way to the ice rink.

you tried to hand it over to sunghoon but he shook his head. “you give it to him. i’m in a rush, and i am sure jake has some apologies to give.” sunghoon patted your shoulder before leaving you in the door way.

you took off your shoes, making your way to jake’s room. you knocked twice, and heard a faint ‘come in.’

jake didn’t even attempt to look up from his bed. “sunghoon if you’re here to just scold me before you leave for the day don’t bother. jay already scolded me about my actions.” then he went on to say that he knew he owed you an apology.

“can you say that a bit louder, i didn’t have my phone recording?” you chuckled.

jake sat up quickly from bed. since he was laying on his stomach, he sat up on all fours in doggy style looking at you like a kid who just woke up for christmas.

“you’re here?”

“well first, you left your phone at my apartment. but now i believe there’s an apology to be owed to me?”

jake nodded, getting off his bed, to walk to you as you stood in his door. he apologized for getting upset about you kissing heeseung.

“whoever you have sex with is none of my business, okay?”

“jake, i—,”

jake didn’t let you finish as he pulled you into a tight hug. “i’m sorry. you can slut yourself out to whomever.”

you laughed, hugging jake back, patting his back. when the hug ended, you handed jake his phone. “i wonder how mad she is.”

jake’s phone battery was at 0%. “well, i guess we’ll find out after it charges.” he laughed.

you and jake decided to watch a movie, in the meantime ‘sidelined: the qb and me.’

“ugh, so cheesy and cliche.”

you elbowed jake. “i like cheesy and cliche!”

he pinched your cheek. “of course you do.”

you stretched when the movie ended. “i could use a nap. all i dreamt about was physics.” you shuddered.

“nap it is!” jake said and grabbed you to throw you over his shoulder, walking you to his room.

he threw you on his bed, climbing in next to you.

that’s when you said, “jake, i’m a virgin.”

“okay? good for you? am i supposed to go running?” jake laughed. “how does that affect me?”

“well, i was only telling you because of earlier.”

“oh.” jake realized. “my bad. but still, it’s none of my business who you have sex with, unless it’s me.”

you nearly choked on air. “and just why would i have sex with you?”

“best friends have sex all the time.” jake said.

you both were laying on your backs, looking up at the ceiling during this conversation.

“jake not best friends. maybe friends with benefits.”

“and we can’t be both?”

you sat up, looking down at your friend with confusion written across your face.

“jake? where is this coming from?”

“baby, if you think i never thought about having sex with you not once since we were teens, you are mistaken.”

“jake—,”

“why else would i run off my friends and other guys?”

“then why else would you have sex with other girls if you so called wanted me in bed?”

jake shrugged. “my dick could only take so much of my hand, babe.”

you groaned, “jake!” and fell back on his bed. this time, he sat up. he rolled to his side, palm on your thigh.

shivers went up and throughout your body.

truth be told, you may have thought about sex with jake once or twice. it didn’t really bother your head until you heard a girl in your class stating he once made her come so hard she passed out.

you wanted to know what that felt like. or if it was even possible.

“i heard it’s painful.” you sighed truthfully, turning your head to look into jake’s eyes. as usual, he had on his puppy dog look, thick lips pouting.

“for some babe, yes it is.” jake said, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. his thumb then glided softly from your cheek to your bottom lip.

“how badly?” you asked in a whisper, the tension between you two thickening.

“it just depends on the girl, and if she’s having sex with the right partner.” jake replied softly, his eyes flicking between your own and your lips. “for me, making sure my girl is comfortable and relaxed. making sure i touch her in the right places.”

all while talking, jake’s fingertips ghosted along your thigh, hips, sides, up the side of your breasts. your skin cluttered with goosebumps, your breathing fastening, both you and jake breathing heavily, just inches away from each other.

with one last flick from your eyes to your lips, jake slowly leaned in for a kiss, capturing your lips in his.

and more than you could imagine, his lips were so soft and thick. and he didn’t straightly use his tongue. the kiss was so slow and sensual, building up the tension between both of you.

jake carefully hovered over you, so you were flat on your back, your hands raising to wrap around his neck. jake’s right hand went to push down your pants and underwear as far as he could.

you giggled removing your lips. “moving quite fast there, huh?”

jake smiled, “can’t help it baby, been waiting too damn long to be inside you.”

jake kissed your lips once more, before scooting down, taking off your bottoms completely, not even bothering to warn you.

his tongue met your core, and you immediately let out a loud gasp, at the unknown feeling. “oh,” you whispered out.

it didn’t feel bad, but it felt weird. foreign.

“don’t worry baby, it’ll feel good. give me a second.” jake said, and went back to your core, using his tongue, lips, teeth, and soon his finger.

“oh!” you squealed with a gasp, then moaned. your lower half began squirming, causing jake to hold you down by your hips with his left hand.

with him holding you down, the intensity amplified, and your hand went to his soft hair. jake added a second finger, your leg resting over his shoulder.

“too much, jake.” you sighed out.

“gotta stretch you out. im pretty thick, honey.”

“that doesn’t help, jake!” you groaned, in-between fussing at him and how good he was making you feel.

“to be fair, i asked if you had any toys.” jake chuckled, fingers still buried in you. only he was sitting up, eyes looking into yours intensely.

“i thought you were joking around.” you moaned as he worked his beautiful, lengthy fingers inside of you. you could almost imagine how his veins looked on his hands.

“you still haven’t answered my question, honey.” jake said, his fingers stilling inside of you—deep and angled.

“fuck!” you moaned, annoyed he stopped. “yes jake, i have one fucking toy! now keep it moving, please.” you begged, and jake chuckled.

“anything for my bestie.”

jake worked his fingers inside of you, adding a third for a while, getting you used to the sensation. weirdly, not once did it not feel good.

jake could feel you getting wetter and wetter and knew it was perfect timing. he quickly undressed himself, then finished undressing you.

“want me to wear a condom?” jake asked and you nodded. jake grabbed a condom from his bedside table, and put it on with quick ease.

you closed your eyes in anticipation of it hurting. jake noticed, and grabbed your chin in his hand.

“look at me honey.” he said softly and you opened your eyes slowly.

he leaned down, so your noses touched, his tip waiting to enter you. he kissed your forehead once.

“don’t wait for the pain, it’ll hurt more. try to relax for me, okay? eyes on me.”

jake kept his hand on your chin, your eyes looking into his. foreheads touching, jake eased in you slowly, you biting your lower lip trying to not scrunch your face.

“it’s okay, you’re doing so well for me baby.” jake cooed, kissing your lips. “doing so well for your jakey.”

you let out a deep breath, your hands resting around his neck and shoulders, your legs open as he laid in between them, buried. your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders.

jake soon finished pushing himself all the way in, causing a low moan of pain to push past your lips. your eyes snapped shut.

“jake, i can’t.” you cried.

“hey, look at me.” jake ordered and you did once more. “eyes on me, okay? you’re okay, i have you. it’s gonna hurt for a bit, but i’ll take care of you.”

“jake but—,”

“do you trust me?” jake asked, caressing your cheek and you nodded.

jake attached his lips to yours, one hand playing with your breast and nipples, as he slowly, inch by inch pushed in and out of you.

the sensation of him playing with your boobs and nipples distracted from his dick rocking in and out of you.

soon you hadn’t even noticed jake was able to pull out to the tip and push back in, your wetness leaking between the two of you.

“my baby just needed some kisses and sweet talk.” jake mumbled against your lips.

jake’s head rested against your neck, and his thrusts became faster and deeper if possible. but it felt good.

jake became a moaning mess, his moans and low growls seeming to turn you on more. he just started throwing praises your way, rolling easily off his tongue.

“good girl. so good for your best friend, huh? always wanted to have your best friend fuck you? not as innocent as i thought.”

jake’s next position had him on his knees, you flat on your back, your legs and thighs resting against the front of his body.

with how powerful his thrusts became, you were so glad no one was here because the sounds of skin slapping was so loud.

your hands reached to grip anything and everything it could. pillows, sheets, jake. jake had a tight hold on your hips as he began to pound into you, literally.

“jake!” you squealed, and felt your stomach tightening. “jake!”

“that’s it baby, say my name, over,” thrust, “and over,” thrust, “and over until your voice goes out.” thrust.

you let out a loud—scream? moan? growl?

your body began shaking afterwards, jake bullying himself back into you after your cunt just kept pushing him out.

soon, jake went still inside of you, a loud moan coming out of his own lips, his grip on your sides tightened.

it felt so hot in his room, both sweaty from the sex. tension was still high, and you knew no way things could go back to the way it was prior to this.

jake removed his dick from you, still hard and wanting a second round. but he knew you had to get some rest before even thinking about another round.

he looked down on the condom, noting no blood, and removed it before throwing it to the trash next to the bed.

“at least you used the trash for something.” you joked. jake laughed knowing you always got after him for his lack of cleanliness.

your heart began thumping hard at the thought of what happens after this. meanwhile jake’s heart was thumping because his body was ready for round 2.

before either of you could say anything, a knock came to your door.

“yo, horn dogs! jay brought us food!” heeseung yelled then laughed.

ah shit.

[fireinmoonshot]

your fiyero | fiyero tigelaar x reader

Pairing: Fiyero Tigelaar x Reader Summary: Ever since Fiyero Tigelaar started at Shiz University, he found himself fascinated by you – the one student who didn't care about him. When he notices you starting to struggle with something, he'll do anything to make sure you're okay. Warnings: Mentions of fainting, falling over, academic stress/burn out Word Count: 2.2k A/N: I've seen Wicked (the show) three times now with the amazing Australian cast that's currently touring and I fell totally head over heels with Fiyero, and then yesterday I saw the movie and fell even more in love with Fiyero and so I had to write for him. I do intend to write more for him, especially if other people want to read more! He's so fun to write for and definitely a challenge compared to some other characters I've written for in the past. I hope you all enjoy! 💗

It’s not difficult to sense the presence of Fiyero Tigelaar behind you as you leave Doctor Dillamond’s classroom, shoving your books into the bag over your shoulder. With the way the students heading into the classroom are staring at someone behind you, it’s quite obvious who they’re staring at. Everyone at Shiz University wants Fiyero Tigelaar. 

Everyone, that is, except you.

“Classes are over, you know?” Fiyero’s voice comes from behind you as you round the corner, heading down the staircase leading to the courtyard. “You don’t have to rush off.”

Irritatingly, the fact that you can’t particularly care less about wanting Fiyero Tigelaar makes himwant you. He usually isn’t the type. If someone doesn’t like him – something he’s actually yet to experience – he would just let it slide. Why waste his energy? But ever since he’d started at Shiz and met you, he’d found himself unable to leave you alone. 

“I know,” you glance back at him over your shoulder. “But some of us actually want to study and spend their time here learning, Tigelaar.”

Fiyero hurries his steps a little so he’s walking alongside you. “Did you miss the part where I said it was my job to corrupt my fellow students when I started here? It’s never too late, darling.” He flashes a grin your way.

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him, right at the same time you almost miss a step and stumble a little. Fiyero is quick, catching your elbow to help steady you. You don’t look at him as you steady yourself, meaning you miss the look of worry in his eyes.

“Are you all right?”

You clear your throat and shake off his grip. “Consider me corrupted by your presence.” 

With that, you make a beeline away from him and you’re glad to notice that he doesn’t attempt to follow you. You highly doubt that he’s going to follow you all the way to the library. Fiyero and the library have never exactly gone hand in hand. 

~~

The next time Fiyero bothers you, you’re sat on one of the benches by the gardens. There’s a book in your hands and he can see you staring intently at it as he saunters over to you. It’s almost like he’s approaching a wild bird or something, he thinks. If he moves too quickly, he’ll frighten you and scare you away. It’s the last thing Fiyero wants to do.

He’s a few steps away from you when you look up from your book and meet his eyes. His face breaks into a smile as he moves the last few steps and takes the spot beside you on the bench. You turn to look at him, your eyebrows raised. 

“Now, don’t say I’m interrupting your study,” he begins. “That book is most definitely not in the curriculum. And yes, I did actually take the time to look the curriculum up after I saw you reading here the other day, if you can believe it.”

For a few moments, you only stare at him. Fiyero, for the first time probably ever, finds himself actually a little uncomfortable at your unwavering gaze. It surprises him. He’s never the type of person to feel uncomfortable. He’s confident in almost every situation.

You let out a sigh. “It may not be in the curriculum, but you’ve interrupted me nevertheless, Tigelaar.”

“Apologies,” he says, with a small smirk. “Am I corrupting you even more with my presence?”

“Something like that.” You close your book and sit it on the small space of bench beside you. You had actually just been reading the same page over and over for the last twenty minutes and trying to convince yourself to stop overthinking things. 

You had so much studying to do, so much to learn and so many assignments to do and so little time to do it all. It was probably a little counterproductive to be sitting outside, reading a book and doing none of those things, but if you didn’t try and have a break from them all, you were pretty sure you were going to burn yourself out, which was the last thing you needed. It would have helped if you’d actually been able to relax and enjoy your book, though.

“Is it any good? Your book. Not that I’d read it, of course,” Fiyero grins.

You try your best to conceal your amusement. “I’d offer to lend it to you but, as you said, you wouldn’t actually read it so… I’ll keep it safe with me. I doubt the Winkie Prince knows how to properly take care of books if he can’t read them.”

Fiyero gasps jokingly. “I’ll have you know I can read, I just choose not to. I prefer to fill my brain with much more useless things. That way, I don’t have to think. It’s a peaceful way to live, my darling.” 

You shake your head, this time unable to keep a smile off of your face. Fiyero likes the sight of it. It strangely makes his heart beat a little faster. He can’t actually remember the last time he saw you smiling… not that he’s been keeping track. 

“How about you join me?” He offers. “No more studying for the rest of the day and no more thinking? I’m positive I could find something we could do to fill the time.” 

The reminder of studying, however, brings you back to reality after you small moment of joking with Fiyero. You reach down and grab your book before standing up and turning to face Fiyero, who is looking at you with slight concern in his eyes at your sudden movement.

“I can’t,” you say simply. “I’ve been reading all morning and there is a lot I have to do. I’ll see you around, Tigelaar.”

He watches you with furrowed eyebrows as you walk away from him, clutching your book to your chest and heading in the direction of the library. Fiyero shakes his head and lets out a small laugh. He really thought today would be the day he’d win you over.

~~

A week goes by without Fiyero even getting to utter a word to you. He sees you, though, fairly often around the school. In the courtyard, in the library (where he definitely didn’t go specifically looking for you), in history class and in the dining hall. But every time he’s thought to approach you, you’ve disappeared before he could even make his move. It’s on the seventh day when he notices that something is different about you.

You’re coming out of the library, carrying several books and what looks like a stack of papers in your hands when you trip. Fiyero isn’t quick enough to cross the courtyard and get to you in time to stop your fall. He does, however, take off at a run to be by your side as you start collecting all of the scattered pieces of paper and books that had fallen out of your grasp.

“It’s all right, Tigelaar. You don’t have to help me,” you mutter, trying to shove books into your already overfilled bag. “It’s a Friday night. I’m sure you’ve got other places to be.”

Fiyero, truthfully, does have other places to be. He’s been invited to the Ozdust Ballroom by nine separate people today. But how can he leave you to just clean all this up by yourself? He can see just by the look on your face that you’re utterly exhausted.

“I do,” he says honestly. “But I’ll help you with this first.”

He’s surprised when you suddenly stop putting things in your bag and when he looks up, he finds you staring at him again. It makes him uncomfortable in the same way he felt last week when you’d looked at him in a similar way. 

“Okay,” you sigh. 

Your lack of energy in fighting him is the second thing to make Fiyero realise something is wrong.

After the two of you finish picking up all of the things you’d dropped, the both of you stand. Fiyero opens his mouth to say something when he notices you start to sway. He’s quicker this time, moving to catch you before you fall. His arm wraps around your waist to keep you steady, while his other hand takes the book bag off your shoulder and moves it straight onto his. He’s surprised by how heavy it is. 

“Woah, darling, what’s going on?” Fiyero looks down at you as you blink and push yourself away from him. “Hey, be careful, okay? I think you were just about to faint.”

You shake your head. “I just stood up too fast, that’s all.” You know the words are a lie, and you can tell that Fiyero knows that as well. First, he’d seen you trip coming out of the library, then he’d caught you when you’d almost fainted… you can’t hide it from him. That much becomes crystal clear immediately.

“Let’s get you somewhere you can sit down, okay?” Fiyero begins. “May I?” He gestures to you, asking silently if he can wrap an arm around you to support you incase you fall over again. 

You nod and allow him to guide you just around the corner into the small seating area off to the side of the library. It’s dark, the lanterns not being lit yet despite the fact that the sun had gone down over twenty minutes ago.

“I swear I’m not usually this clumsy,” you say sheepishly. “That’s twice you’ve stopped me from falling in the last two weeks… I suppose I should say thank you, Fiyero.”

Fiyero sits you down gently on the bench and sits your book bag down on the ground. He crouches down in front of you and reaches up to take your hands in his. He’s surprised when you don’t immediately pull away from him. “I don’t think you’ve ever called me by my first name before.”

“Oh,” you think on it for a second, trying to ignore the warm feeling of his hands and how comforting it is. “I guess I haven’t. Sorry, Tigelaar.”

“No, no,” Fiyero shakes his head. “Don’t go back to that. I like when you call me Fiyero.”

“Well, I suppose it is your name,” you offer a small smile.

“There’s that gorgeous smile,” Fiyero smiles back at you and squeezes your hands. “Now, are you gonna tell me why you almost just fainted on me and why you’re clumsier than you usually are, darling?”

You stay silent for a few moments and just when Fiyero begins to think that you might just brush him off and try to make a quick exit like you did last week, you start to speak.

“I haven’t really been sleeping well lately,” you admit quietly. “I’ve had so much work to do, I fell behind on my assignments and I took on some extra work from Doctor Dillamond and… despite my best efforts, I guess I let myself get a little burnt out.”

Fiyero looks at you with his eyes full of pity and you hate it. 

“Anyway,” you clear your throat, “that’s not important. Why would you care?”

Your attempt to make light of the situation fails spectacularly, judging by the look that Fiyero gives you afterwards. You’ve never seen him look that unimpressed before. 

“Of course I care,” he says, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Why, though?” You can’t help but ask. “Why are you so fixated on me?”

Fiyero sighs and moves to sit beside you, letting go of your hands in the process. “If you’ll allow me to be honest with you for a moment,” he starts, “I suppose… you’re the only person at Shiz that doesn’t treat me like the perfect Winkie Prince that everyone thinks I am. You’re the only person that doesn’t think I’m perfect, and half the time you act like you can’t stand to be around me, and for some reason that only makes me want to be around you more.” 

“Are you not the perfect Winkie Prince?” You ask.

Fiyero grins. “Oh, not in the slightest, darling. But let’s keep that between us. I’ll keep your secret if you keep mine. How does that sound?” 

You don’t even try to hide the smile that comes to your face at his words. “You promise you won’t tell anyone about what happened today?”

“I promise,” he nods. “But only on one condition: you tell Doctor Dillamond you can’t complete the extra work you signed up for and you take a break to make sure you get plenty of rest before diving into your other assignments. I’m sure I can sweet talk some of the Professors if you need help.” 

He smiles as you hit him with the same look as before, but for the first time, he doesn’t find himself feeling uncomfortable at the sight of it. Now, he finds it slightly amusing and incredibly endearing. He has always found you endearing, he supposes.

“Sweet talking my Professors will not be necessary,” you chuckle. “But okay. It’s a deal. And I’ll keep your secret too. You can continue to be the perfect Winkie Prince to everyone… except me.”

Fiyero laughs. “I’ll just be your Fiyero, then.”

“My Fiyero?” You repeat after him, eyebrows raised. 

He ignores the way his heart beats faster at the sound of those words coming out of your mouth. 

“Yes, your Fiyero,” he hums. 

“Everyone will think that you finally corrupted me after all this time,” you joke, voice teasing. “I’ll just be like everyone else at Shiz. Part of the Fiyero Tigelaar fan club.”

Fiyero fixes you with a look. “Oh, darling. You could never be like everyone else.” 

[svtiddiess]

Sex Education

Synopsis: In all your years of education you learned that there are many methods to study: flashcards, study groups, the pomodoro method etc. But you find that practice is better than theory. And what better way to study Biology than practice with your study buddy?

Pairing: loser!virgin!med student!Mingyu x afab!med student!reader

Genre: smut, slight crack, one shot, med school! au

Rating: mature

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: pet names (puppy), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), creampie, size kink, choking, loss of virginity, sub!Gyu, big dick!Gyu, loser!Gyu, riding, masturbation, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: Thank you so much for helping me with the synopsis my twin @tomodachiii! As promised, here's sub!Gyu.

Thank you so much to @onlymingyus for beta reading!

Click here to join my taglist!

Read on ao3

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

Mingyu.

That's the only thing on your mind right now—nothing else, just Mingyu. You should probably be paying attention to the lesson, but how could you, with the hot nerd sitting right within your line of sight? Okay, maybe you chose this seat specifically so you could look at him without getting caught, but still! He’s a distraction you’re more than happy to have.

You rest your chin in your hand, sighing as your eyes trace over his figure. He’s built like a Greek god—strong, tall, with perfectly styled black hair, and his large square glasses barely hide his handsome, tan face. Oh, what you’d give just to see him without those glasses on.

You’ve known Mingyu since middle school. You never really interacted, but you definitely noticed him around. Back in school, he was known as the nerdy kid with glasses and a scrawny, lanky frame to match. Shy and awkward, he was an easy target for bullies. But over the years, his muscle mass increased, and his frame filled out. It seems he’s been putting in serious hours at the gym, and it’s definitely paid off.

Although he’s the most handsome guy in med school, he’s still incredibly shy and reserved, keeping his circle small and close-knit. Despite numerous people, especially girls, trying to get closer to him, he just pushes them away. That’s why, despite your massive crush, you haven’t made a move. You’re too scared he’ll shut you out and avoid you for good.

You can't help but bite your bottom lip and squeeze your thighs together as you rake your eyes over his bulging biceps, his shirt barely able to contain the muscle. Just one chokehold; one chokehold is all you're asking for, really. You sigh once again, knowing that you'll never be able to have him.

Your train of unholy thoughts is abruptly interrupted by the sound of your professor calling your name. Startled, you sit up and look towards him.

"Miss Y/N, are you even paying attention?" Prof. Choi huffs, crossing his arms.

"Of course I am, professor," you reply, flashing the sweetest smile you can manage.

"Then, for the third time, please answer the question on the board," he says, gesturing to the problem.

"Uh…" you trail off, completely lost.

Prof. Choi sighs and tells you to see him after class, to which you reluctantly agree. You sink into your chair, dreading what’s to come. Shaking your head, you let out a sigh and shifted your gaze back to Mingyu, watching in awe as he effortlessly answered the very question you stumbled over. Tall, muscular, hot, and smart—he really is the perfect guy.

You grumble as Prof. Choi calls your name, sabotaging your plan to slip out of class. Sighing, you drag yourself over to his desk, only to be surprised when Mingyu joins you. You glance between Mingyu and Prof. Choi, waiting for an explanation.

"Y/N, I’ll get straight to the point—you’re failing this class," Prof. Choi says. "At this rate, I’m not sure you'll be able to move on to the next year."

Well, it’s not your fault that a hot distraction named Kim Mingyu exists.

"That’s why I’ve assigned Mingyu here as your tutor to help you pass," he says, nodding toward Mingyu.

Your eyes widen, and you struggle to suppress a smile. Mingyu tutoring you? Spending time alone with him? This feels like a dream come true. You silently thank both Prof. Choi and the heavens for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Mingyu gives you a shy smile. "I hope we can get along well," he says, extending his hand.

You gratefully take it, noticing the blush coloring his cheeks.

"Please take good care of me, Mingyu," you say, beaming, already looking forward to your tutoring sessions.

You smooth out your skirt one last time before opening the door for Mingyu. You made sure to wear your sluttiest outfit today. After insisting that your brain works better when you study in your room, Mingyu shyly agreed to hold the tutoring sessions there.

You smile and step aside to let him in, watching as he sheepishly steps into your house. Making sure your ass is sticking out, you made him follow you upstairs to your room.

You sat down on your bed, subtly raising your skirt, and gestured for Mingyu to take a seat next to you. He awkwardly took his seat and started pulling out his notes.

He keeps his eyes on his notes as he starts explaining today’s lesson—something about the Krebs cycle, though you’re not really listening. You’re too busy admiring his handsome face. You twirl a strand of hair and blink sweetly as you ask (hopefully relevant) questions, but he barely glances at you while answering.

After what feels like hours of studying (it’s been 30 minutes), you whine and beg him for a break, and he blushes as he agrees.

"Would you like some snacks? Or maybe water or juice?" you ask, perking up.

"Just a glass of water is fine," he mumbles, still focused on his notes.

You nod and grab a glass of water for him and a snack for yourself. Returning, you hand him the water with a smile, which he accepts with a quiet “thank you,” while you peel your banana for your snack.

You lick the tip of the banana before biting down on it, smirking when you see Mingyu gulping at your actions. Noticing you looking at him, he blushes and quickly averts his gaze.

"Want a bite?" You offer him with a sultry smirk.

"N-No, thank you," he mumbles, his ears turning red.

You giggle as you finish your banana and scoot a little closer, prompting him to continue the lesson. But he’s a stuttering mess, tripping over his words and repeatedly asking for more water to soothe his suddenly dry throat.

After stuttering his way through, Mingyu finally managed to finish the lesson. Sore from having hunched over, you stretch, not so subtly pressing your chest against his arm. Mingyu flushes, quickly gathering his notes and mumbling something about being late for a gaming session with Wonwoo.

You see him out, throwing in a wink and waving goodbye. You watch as he stumbles a bit while getting onto his Vespa and driving off. Chuckling to yourself, you can't help but smile at how cute he is.

The rest of the tutoring sessions go the same way: you not-so-subtly flirt with Mingyu, while he either purposely ignores it or remains completely oblivious. You even try to out-slut your outfits with every tutoring session, but nothing seems to work.

One night, after yet another session, you lie in bed, frustrated that Mingyu isn’t picking up on your very obvious hints. Who knew the loser nerd would actually turn out to be a huge loser? You sigh, but him being a huge loser is what you find most endearing about him.

You bite your lip, remembering what he wore today—a black polo that stretched perfectly over his muscles, jeans that hugged his thighs just right, and of course, those thick black frames.

You can't help but sneak your hand down your torso as you remember how his arm felt pressed against your boobs. They felt so strong and firm, you bet that he could easily carry you and fuck you mid-air.

You shiver as your hand sneaks under your panties. You circle your pussy, collecting your arousal before pushing a finger into your hole, sighing at the slight stretch. You moan at the thought of Mingyu's fingers being way bigger than yours. His fingers would stretch you out so well before he finally fucks you with his huge cock.

You insert another finger and start thrusting your fingers, moaning out Mingyu's name. You imagine him hovering over you as he relentlessly thrusts into you, groaning your name right beside your ear. He'd growl as your fingers rake his back, leaving angry red marks. You'd wrap your legs around his hips and push him in deeper, making him breed you.

Your other hand circles your clit as you feel yourself getting to the edge. You imagine him thrusting from behind as his large bicep chokes you, putting just enough pressure to heighten the pleasure. He'd whimper and moan in your ear, letting you know how good you feel wrapped around him. He'd fill you up with his cum, again and again, and again, until the sheets underneath you are soaked with your mixed fluids.

Your breath hitches as you cum, whispering his name like a prayer, hoping that if you say it enough times, he’ll appear before you and make your dreams come true.

But he doesn't, and you're left lying in bed, sticky, sweaty, and alone.

You yawn for the umpteenth time as Mingyu drones on about anatomy; you're sure your brain has shut down by now. You sigh as you lean back onto the bed, too tired even to sit up.

"Mingyu, can we please take a break? I don't think my brain can take any more of this," you groan, resting your arm over your eyes.

"U-Uh, yeah, sure," Mingyu mumbles, fiddling with his notes. "We could always switch to a different topic if you want a change of pace…"

"What's the next topic?"

"The reproductive system."

Your eyebrows shoot up, and a smirk paints your face as an idea pops into your head. You sit up and grin at Mingyu.

"Sure, let's learn about the reproductive system."

Happy that you're finally interested in a topic, Mingyu gathers his notes and starts to explain. After about 15 minutes of explanation, you put your hand over his and gently push away his notes.

"Mingyu, I don’t understand the topic at all," you say with a pout, shifting to sit directly in front of him. His face turns bright red, clearly flustered. "I think it would help if we put the theory into practice so I can learn better," you purr.

Mingyu stumbles over his words, stuttering, his brain clearly short-circuiting. You giggle at his flustered state and shift to sit on his lap, your legs on either side of him.

"Will you let me use you to put the theory into practice, Mingyu?" you ask, tilting your head with a pout as you gently cup his face.

"I-I’m not sure h-how…" Mingyu stammers, swallowing hard.

"Oh, you poor thing," you coo. "It's okay, I'll guide you, puppy. Will you let me?"

He licks his lips and lets out a shaky breath before giving a small nod.

"Don't worry, puppy, I'll make sure to take good care of you," you hum as you gently remove his glasses.

He blinks and looks up at you, lips parted and cheeks flushed. You take a moment to admire his handsome face without the glasses. Cupping his face, your eyes trace over his features—his strong jawline, his parted lips, and the small mole on the tip of his nose. Unable to resist, you lean in and place a gentle kiss there, making him shiver.

"Can I kiss you, puppy?" You whisper.

"P-Please," he whimpers, and you can't help but smile over how pathetic he sounds.

You lean in and press your lips against his, and he kisses back desperately, hungry for your lips. You chuckle into the kiss, his inexperience showing with every hesitant movement. When you pull back, he leans forward, chasing your lips and letting out a soft whine when you don’t return the kiss.

"Puppy, if you don't behave, I will punish you," you scowl, furrowing your eyebrows.

"'m sorry," he mumbles with a pout.

You plant a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, then slowly run your hands down his torso, gently squeezing each muscle through his white polo. He moans and shivers under your touch, his eyes squeezing shut.

"Puppy works hard in the gym, hm?" You giggle, squeezing his chest slightly harder, eliciting a gasp from him.

You giggle, then start slowly dragging your hands to his arms, squeezing his biceps.

"God, your arms are so big and strong," you moan, squeezing him hard. "I want you to choke me, puppy. Can you do that for me? Choke me with your biceps?"

Letting out a shaky breath, he nods. You shift, pressing your back against his chest. He gently puts you into a chokehold and squeezes his arm slightly. Your eyes roll back, and a moan slips from your lips when you feel his biceps push against your throat.

You can't help but feel small in Mingyu's hold; he's just so big and beefy. You grind your hips against him, and you feel his grip faltering. He whimpers and pushes his erection against your butt.

"P-Please, I can't. I-It hurts," he whimpers against your ear.

You sneak down your hand and palm him through his jeans, making him groan and buck your hips against your palm.

"Need me to take care of your problem puppy?" You giggle, palming him roughly.

"Please," he strains out, choking back a moan.

He releases you from the chokehold, and you quickly clamber over to grab the bottle of lube you've stashed on the side table. You look over to see that he's already pushed his jeans and boxers down and freed his aching cock.

"Impatient are we now, puppy?" You chuckle, making his cheeks heat up.

Locking eyes with him, you give him a sultry look as you slowly peel off your panties but keep your skirt on. He gulps hard, shifting in place, anticipating your next move.

Biting your lip, you slowly crawl back over to him. You pour lube all over his cock and give him a few pumps, he whines your name and bucks his hips, making you giggle.

"Gonna make you feel so good, puppy," you whisper as you shift to hover over him.

You grab onto his shoulders and slowly sink onto his big cock, the stretch making you moan out loud. Mingyu whines and groans under you, his hands fly to your hips, fingers digging into you.

"F-Fuck," he groans, squeezing his eyes shut as your warmth slowly envelopes him.

Your mouth goes agape, and your eyes roll back when you feel his tip kiss your cervix.

"M-Move, please move. I-I can't," he begs, muscles straining under you.

You slowly lift yourself and slam back down onto him, making the both of you moan out loud. Slowly picking up your pace, you start riding him. He becomes a blubbering mess under you, moaning your name and whining at how good it feels.

"Look at the mess we're making, puppy," you pant out, lifting your skirt and showing him the sticky mess forming at the base of his cock.

He looks down at where both of you are connected and moans. He starts picking you up and slamming you down at an animalistic pace, his hips meeting you halfway. You squeal at the feeling of him rutting into you.

Unable to hold back any longer, he cums hard, filling you up to the brim with his seeds. Desperate to reach your high, you continue to ride him despite his chokes and whimpers. You capture his lips into a messy kiss to distract him from the overstimulation.

"C-Circle my clit," you mumble in between the kiss, and he complies, his hand immediately sneaking down and rubbing your clit in circles.

You yell his name as you cum around him, squeezing every drop of cum out of him. Mingyu moans, and a few tears slip from his eyes at the feeling of you squeezing him with a vice-like grip.

You both take a moment to catch your breath, your head resting on Mingyu’s shoulder as he leans back against the headboard. Licking your lips, you cup his face and look into his dazed eyes.

"You did so well, puppy," you coo, watching him blush and give you a fucked-out smile.

"But I don't think I've fully understood the topic yet. Maybe we should go over it again, just to be sure," you say before smashing your lips on his again.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour

@iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina

@theidontknowmehn @aliiikareed @jennwonwoo @toplinehyunjin

[moonstruckme]

hi maeeee!! can i request a poly! marauders where maybe reader is fighting with only one them and the others are shocked when they find out and try their very best to fix it even though things are quite tense? thanks maeeeee ilyyyy💐💐💐

Thanks for your patience with this one angel! It's not as angsty as I planned when I started writing it, but I hope you enjoy it <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.8k words

It’s James who finds you this time. You’re curled up in a corner of the couch, pretending to read whilst secretly feeling sorry for yourself. Your boyfriend sits next to you, touching your shoulder so that you turn to him for a kiss. 

“Still upset?” he asks after a peck. 

You ignore the complicated, knotty feeling that makes itself known in your chest. “Not at you.” 

“No, I know.” James smiles a little, gifting you another kiss. “I’d be coming in here with my tail between my legs if you were. I’d hate to be on the wrong side of either you or Rem’s wrath.” 

You stay quiet. You wouldn’t go so far as to call what you’re feeling wrath—that seems a tad dramatic to describe the low flame of vexation you’ve been burning for your tallest boyfriend—but you don’t feel like opening yourself up to the subject with James. You’ve already heard it from Sirius this morning. 

“Angel.” James gives your shoulder a cajoling squeeze. “Come on, when are the two of you going to get past this? It’s very awkward sleeping in the same bed with two people who are quarreling, you know.” 

“We sleep exactly the same as every other night.” 

“There’s underlying tension,” he counters lightly. You roll your eyes, and James laughs. “Oi, don’t get cross with me now, too. I’m just telling you about my lived experience.” He leans his head on your shoulder, all sweetness and treachery. “You’re really not gonna forgive him? You know he’s gonna stick you with Sirius in the divorce.” 

You huff a laugh. James grins up at you hopefully. You know there’s some sense to what he’s saying; one of you has to be the bigger person eventually. It had started small, a stupid disagreement, but you and Remus are each stubborn and petty enough to not want to admit where you were wrong. Now you’re more angry with him for being angry with you than for anything else. 

When you think of his coldness to you—never mind the fact that you’ve been cold to him in turn—that flame of vexation burns a little brighter. 

“I don’t know why you’re over here trying to convince me,” you tell James. “I won’t have any problem forgiving him if he actually apologizes.” 

James sighs. You look down at your book to avoid his disappointment. 

“Okay, then. But he does feel really bad, so you know. He’s in the bedroom with one of his headaches, and he asked if you were still upset with him.” You look up. James levels you with a weighted look. “Could probably really use a cuddle, if you two were on good terms.” 

James is at least only somewhat smug when you abandon your book to go to the bedroom. You pass Sirius in the hall, who gives you a smile and a firm peck on the lips, likely having just left Remus himself. You enter the bedroom expecting to see the curtains drawn, lights off, and your poorly boyfriend in bed, but instead Remus is standing, well lit by the daylight streaming in through the windows, book tented on the bed still made from this morning. He appears as though he was just on his way out. 

“Erm, hi,” he says, brows pulled together in the middle. He looks to be studying you. “Are you alright?” 

“Fine,” you answer, bemused. “Are…are you?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

The door clicks shut behind you. You startle at the sound, not having closed it yourself. Then, you watch as a resigned sort of irritation comes over Remus’ features at the same time as it settles into you. 

“Pricks.” He moves past you to the door, jiggling the handle. “It only locks from the inside, you twats.” 

“Love you too,” comes Sirius’ voice. “You can come out after you kiss and make up.” 

“And say you’re sorry!” adds James. 

Remus scowls. 

“Open it,” you tell him. 

“What do you think I’m trying to do? One of them is holding it shut.” 

“Let me try.” 

“Be my guest.” Remus steps back, letting you have a go at the handle. By putting everything you have into it you manage to twist it, but you can’t get it open even an inch. 

“Don’t hurt yourself, gorgeous.” Sirius sounds smug enough to make your face feel hot. “James is holding it on the other side here, a few more minutes and you’ll make him break a sweat.” 

You let go of the handle with a huff, turning and stalking towards the bedroom window. You start moving the desk out of your way. 

“Would you really rather climb out the window than be in a room with me?” asks Remus. You look over your shoulder, and he’s sitting on the bed, side-eyeing you with his back propped against the pillows. 

“It’s not about you.” You shove your hip into the desk, budging it enough for you to get at the window latch. “They lied and made me feel all guilty just so they could lock us in here.” 

“What’d they tell you?”

You try to get your fingernail behind the latch. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“Sirius had me thinking you were quite upset.” 

“Yeah, and probably that I was asking after you, right? James told me you had a bad headache.” 

A chuckle. “That was enough to make you come in here looking so flustered?” 

“My mistake,” you huff, but it turns to a short whimper when your nail breaks. “Christ, you’d think they’d make these easier to open. What if there was a fire?” 

“Don’t go out the window,” Remus says calmly. “You’ll ruin your tights.” 

You work another nail behind the latch. “I can’t just let them win.” 

“Mm. That’s a bit of a problem for you, is it?” 

A bitter coolness settles over you. You turn, crossing your arms. “Something to say?” 

Remus picks up his book, cornering a page. “Just making an observation, is all.” 

“Remus,” you say sternly. “Don’t act like you’re any better. You could’ve apologized at any time.” 

Your boyfriend levels you with a look. “Would that really have made a difference?”

“Yes!” 

“Honestly?” He looks like he doesn’t believe you. “All I have to do is say I’m sorry, and you’ll forget about all of this and be completely happy with me?” 

You shake your head, bewildered. “…Yeah. I mean, I would want to know that you understood how you hurt my feelings, but yeah. Really, it’s not that complicated.” 

Remus’ expression softens. “I do understand that, dove. Do you understand how you hurt mine?” 

“I…” You find you can’t quite look at him. “I imagine it’s sort of similar. Because I’ve been cold to you.” 

“And because you wouldn’t hear me out,” he says. It doesn’t sound like I told you so, not smug so much as gentle. “But it was a small thing to begin with, wasn’t it? I’m ready to be past it.” 

You frown at him. “It’s not about the argument for me. I’m already past that, it’s just everything else.” 

Remus considers you. “Would you come here, please?” 

You swear you wouldn’t go if he didn’t sound so kind. But you find yourself with your legs curled underneath you on the bed in front of him, Remus coaxing your hands into his. 

“I’m sorry I hurt your feelings,” he says sincerely, looking you in the eyes. “It was a silly argument, and I shouldn’t have been so stubborn.” 

You chew the inside of your cheek, sizing up whether he means it. “I…also could have been less stubborn,” you admit begrudgingly. Your tone softens. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, too. I didn’t mean to.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” Remus’ touch coasts from your hands up your arms as he pulls you closer to kiss your forehead. “Are we okay?” 

“Yeah,” you say, mollified. 

He smiles at you. “Hear that?” he says towards the door. “You can let us out now.” 

There’s no response. 

Remus frowns as you get out of bed, going to try the handle. The door comes open, revealing and empty hallway. 

“Pricks,” Remus mutters. 

You find your boyfriends in the living room, James flicking through channels on the telly while Sirius reads the back cover of your book. James notices you first. 

“Oh, hello.” He grins at you as Sirius looks over. “All sorted, then?” 

You’re half tempted to pretend you didn’t make up just to spite them. When you look over at Remus, you suspect he’s thinking the same thing. 

“That was sort of mean, lying to me like that,” you say to James instead. 

He looks a bit contrite, but Sirius says insouciantly, “You were never gonna do it by yourselves, babe. We weren’t ready to start divvying up the furniture because you wanted to have a row.” 

You kiss your teeth. “I think I might be having a row with you now.” 

“What, us?” James’ eyebrows rise above the frames of his glasses. “What for?” 

“You lied to us both to make us feel bad,” Remus reminds him, “and then locked us in the bedroom.” 

Sirius isn’t impressed. “Well, it wasn’t really locked, was it. If you’d gotten desperate, you could’ve taken it off the hinges. Or just checked again after a couple minutes.” 

“She broke her nail trying to get the window open.” 

You hold up your torn fingernail as proof. Sirius coos, reaching for your finger and bringing it to his lips while you scowl at him. 

“Sorry, lovie. We had a plan to bring you food in a couple hours,” says James. “We were even going to let you out for bathroom breaks if you needed to go.” 

“Really, you wrapped it up much quicker than we were expecting,” Sirius praises. He’s still holding your finger, drawing his thumb up and down the side in easy, consoling strokes. “We thought you’d ice each other out until supper at least. I’m quite proud of you.” 

Remus scoffs. 

“Oh, come now.” Sirius grins. “Give us a kiss.” 

You roll your eyes but turn to Remus, extricating your finger from Sirius’ grasp to meet him in a chaste kiss. 

The other boys cheer. “There we are!” James tilts his face up expectantly. “Now one for me.” 

You and Remus exchange a look. 

“No,” you say coolly, “I don’t think so.” The two of you go to sit on the far side of the couch, away from both Sirius and James with you curled against Remus’ side. He looks a tad smug as he puts his arm around you. 

“Oi!” says Sirius. “Look what you’ve done, you’ve made James pull his sad puppy face. What do you have to say for yourselves?” 

“You lied to us,” you say again, slowly, with emphasis, “and locked us in the bedroom.” 

Sirius scoffs. “So dramatic.” 

“Oh, that’s rich.” 

“Will it help if we say sorry?” James asks meekly. 

Remus looks at you. You shrug. 

“Maybe,” he says. “You’re more than welcome to try and find out.”

[covenofagatha]

A Helping Hand

You're helping your Professor gather ingredients for a potion she's brewing when you accidentally knock over a jar of sex pollen and need help.

Word count: ~3100

Warnings: smut, mommy kink, fingering, Top Agatha, magic cock, blowjob, magic cum, pure filth, teacher x student, age gap (everyone's legal)

Your brow furrows as you stare at the open spell book in front of you. You have a Potions test tomorrow for Professor Harkness, and evident by your lack of understanding of any of the words on the page, you are not going to do well. 

“What’s wrong?” your roommate, Wanda, asks you. The two of you are the top witches at the Academy of Dark Arts, and yet, neither of you has a strong suit in potions. 

And of course, the Potions teacher, Agatha Harkness, is the hardest teacher you have. 

“This is impossible. How am I supposed to remember that, for the Wolfsbane Potion, you have to stir three times counterclockwise, say this incantation, and then stir four times clockwise, all while making sure I’m continuously pouring in Dragon’s Blood?” Your head hurts just from reading it from the book. 

Wanda snorts. “Agatha doesn’t expect it to be perfect.”

You give her a look. You both know that’s a lie. Agatha is the teacher that makes you redo written homework assignments if you leave too much space between the words. 

The Academy of Dark Arts was a home for witches like you and Wanda: witches that did not have a coven, or even a family. The Academy was supposed to teach girls to harness and understand their powers. 

You have been here the longest, ever since you were twelve. You are almost twenty now. You had always put off taking Potions until you could no longer avoid it, mainly just because of how hard everyone else said it was. You had briefly interacted with Professor Harkness before the class, passing her in the corridors or making eye contact at meals. 

And maybe, just maybe, you had developed a bit of a crush on her once you were in her class. 

Who could blame you, though? She was the definition of perfection, with the way power just exuded from her, and the way her long, dark hair tumbled down to her lower back, and her piercing blue eyes that you suspected could see right into your soul. 

But your little infatuation was not what you needed right now – no, right now, you need to study. 

“I just don’t know anything,” you groan, dropping your head into your hands. “I can’t even read my notes.” Agatha often went so fast in class that you had no other option than to just scribble down everything you thought she said as quickly as you could. 

And now you just had pages of illegible chicken scratch. 

“She’s probably still in the green house, why not just go ask her for help,” Wanda says noncommittally, too engrossed in sketching a picture. How she is so calm with this test hanging over the both of you, you have no idea. 

But you nod. That’s a good idea. You can go see Agatha, ask her to clarify a few things, and then stay up all night cramming ingredients and directions into your brain. 

“I’ll be right back,” you promise, and then scoop up your book and your notes. 

You pass by some younger witches in the hallway and you give them a tight-lipped smile. Wanda was really your only friend at the Academy, the other girls too boy-crazy or too self-absorbed for you to really connect with them. 

Other than those girls, though, the Academy is quiet. No sign of any of your other teachers, and you’re sure they’re either in their private quarters or still grading papers in their classrooms. 

You have to leave the main house of the Academy to get to the greenhouse, where Potions takes place. The cold November air stings your cheeks and makes your eyes water, but luckily, it’s a short walk. 

“Hello, Professor Harkness?” you say timidly, knocking on the door as you push it open. She’s sitting at a stool, cutting plants with a sharp knife. Her hair flowing down her back and she's wearing a tight white button-down shirt on that’s tucked into high-waisted purple pants, and a long, navy coat.

She glances up and smiles when she sees it’s you. “Y/n, what can I do for you?” 

“Oh, I just wanted to come see if you could help me clear some things up for the test tomorrow,” you say, a little flustered by how good she looks. 

“Sure thing, hon. First, I need your help. Hand me those powders from over there?” She points the knife over to the counter by the sink and you oblige, grabbing the four vials and putting them down next to her. She picks each one up and examines the label closely. “Ah, shoot. Sorry, dear, could you find the jar with the powdered root of asphodel? It should be in the pantry somewhere. I thought I took it out, but I guess I forgot.” 

“Yeah, of course.” You repeat the powder name in your head a few times so you don’t forget it and then go search for it. 

You finally spot it on the fourth shelf, sitting in the middle of some other jars, and you reach up on your tip-toes to grab it. As you’re pulling down the correct jar, you accidentally knock it into another and it falls to the floor next to you. 

“Shit!” you mutter, immediately crouching down to assess the damage. The jar of some unknown powder has broken and its contents are spilled everywhere. Without even thinking, you start to sweep the powder into your hands so you can try to put it back in the bottom half of the jar that’s still intact. 

You didn’t even notice Agatha coming over after she heard the noise. “Everything okay – don’t touch any of that!” she exclaims, seeing the bottle that broke on the floor.

You drop the mound of powder in your hands and whirl around, eyes wide open. 

“What is it?” you ask, afraid of the answer, but she doesn’t give you one, instead opting to pull you by the sleeve over to the sink. 

“Wash your hands now,” she demands and stands there watching you scrub your skin until it’s red. “How do you feel?” 

“I feel fine,” you say, but as you say that, you notice something. There’s an unmistakable heat growing in your stomach. And it only gets worse when Agatha places a hand against your forehead. You lean into the touch and have to forcibly bite your tongue so you don’t moan. 

She looks you up and down and you can feel yourself getting hotter. You’re sure your cheeks are flushed. 

You’ve never felt this way before. 

“Um, just out of curiosity, what was that powder?” you ask, wetness pooling between your thighs. The ache between your legs is becoming hard to ignore. 

Agatha meets your eyes. “It’s called sex pollen.” Your heart skips a beat. “I honestly forgot it was back there. I came across some a few decades ago and wanted to study it.”

You swallow hard. “So if someone gets some of it in their system, do they just need to touch…” You feel yourself blushing, not quite believing you’re asking Agatha Harkness if masturbation is the key to get this heat inside you to die down. 

She smirks. “You can’t get it out of your system by yourself.”

Well, fuck. “There’s no other way?” 

“Where would the fun in that be?” She winks playfully, and you wonder if she’s ever used it, or used it on someone else. “But you said you feel fine so you shouldn’t have to worry about it.”

“Right,” you reply shakily. Her fingers brush a strand of hair out of her face and you literally clench at the sight of them. You feel so empty, so needy, so desperate for her. 

“You said you had some questions for the test tomorrow?” She takes the root of asphodel that you had forgotten you were holding and beckons you back over to where she’s working. She pats the stool next to you and you sit, the pressure on your clit making you jump. 

You just have to make it through this, go back to your room, and then drag Wanda out with you to a club or something so you can get fucked. 

The only problem is, you’re not sure you can wait that long. Your hips have started squirming on the stool beneath you and you can’t control it. 

“Um, so,” you start, opening up the textbook to the Wolfsbane Potion you were studying earlier. “The directions for this potion are–”

You’re cut off by her putting her hand on top of yours and you literally whimper at the contact. You stiffen and see her turn her full body towards you, taking in the slight sheen of sweat on your forehead, your darkened eyes, the way your hips are moving on the seat. 

“Oh, you poor baby,” she taunts. 

You give up the pretense of being unaffected by the pollen. “Professor, I’m so…I need…please…I think the pollen...” 

She laughs. “Yes, dear, I think the pollen got into your system. Do you have anyone who can take care of you?” 

You blush at the implication of Agatha asking if you have a fuck buddy and then shake your head pathetically. “I was gonna go out with Wanda and try to find someone,” you mumble. “I’ve never…” You trail off, not wanting your incredibly hot professor to hear you say out loud that you’re a virgin. 

“Honey, you can’t have your first time with a random person from a bar,” she tuts. “Plus, sex pollen amplifies feelings you already have. Getting fucked by a random person won’t help as much as by a person you already want.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” you whine. “Can you…will you…please?” You can tell the pollen is affecting your ability to think straight because there is no way you just asked your centuries-old professor to fuck you. You’re about ready to run out of the room and die of embarrassment when she grins. 

“You want me to help you?” 

Your breath catches. “Professor, please, please, I need it. I need you. I just feel so…hot.” 

“I’ll say,” she says appreciatively, this time letting her eyes wander over you slowly. “Are you sure? I don’t want you regretting this when the pollen wears off.” 

You shake your head. “I won’t. I’m sure. I want you so bad. I have for a while. And you said it has to be someone you already want.” 

Her eyes darken. “Get on the table.” 

You’ve never moved so fast in your life. She takes your shirt off and throws it somewhere else in the room, and then her hands are cupping your breasts and her mouth is on yours. 

You moan hungrily into her hot mouth, feeling her tongue against yours. Your hands tangle in her hair, pulling it gently, and she groans into your mouth. Agatha quickly undoes the clasp of your bra and finds your nipples, tugging at them. She kisses down your neck and your fingers leave her hair to hike up your skirt. 

“So eager for me,” she whispers against your clavicle. You gasp when she bites down. 

“Please, professor, touch me.” 

“I am touching you,” she teases, fingertips lightly skimming down your stomach. You tense at the touch as she gets lower. 

Your moan is downright pornographic when she first slides her hand into your underwear, sliding through your folds. She makes a sound as well. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re soaked,” she says. 

“All for you,” you say weakly, hips grinding up and down against her fingers. She’s yet to touch your clit, but you fear the second she does, you’ll cum. 

“My dirty girl.” Agatha finally pushes her middle finger into you and you clench down immediately, needing more. She easily finds the spot that makes you squeal, and her thumb brushes against your clit. “Do you think you can take another finger?” 

“Oh my god, yes,” you enthusiastically agree and she slides in her ring finger as well. It’s a bit of a stretch but you’ve never felt better. 

“Your cunt feels so good around me,” Agatha says, grabbing your chin with her other hand so you meet her eyes. “So wet, so warm. I want to stay here forever. You can’t get enough of my fingers, can you?” 

“No, Professor, I love your fingers,” you babble, right on the edge. She knows it too. 

“Be a good girl and come for mommy,” she whispers right into your ear, her hot breath warm, and the name, coupled with the way she twists her fingers and roughly strokes your clit, sends you climaxing. 

“Fuckkkk,” you moan, your nails digging into her shoulders. She fucks you through the aftershocks of your orgasm and then slowly pulls her fingers, which are drenched, out of you. You can’t help but feel empty and the heat inside you isn’t completely gone. 

Before you can say anything, she slides her wet fingers into your mouth and you lazily lap at your juices. She bites her lip at the feeling. 

“How are you feeling now, baby girl?” 

Her fingers leave your mouth with a pop. “Better but I still think I need more.” 

Her eyebrow raises playfully. “My fingers weren’t enough to quell your thirst?” 

You shake your head, feeling a little embarrassed. 

“I think I know something that might help.” She waves her hand and a poof of purple smoke appears. You’re not quite sure what she did, but she gives you a wicked grin and unzips her pants, pulling out a purple strap-on. 

Your mouth falls open. 

She grabs a hold of the base and starts to stroke herself, groaning. 

“Wait, can you-” 

She looks up at you. “Feel it?” She nods. “I wanna feel you clench around my cock. Wanna fill you up.” 

You let out a small gasp. “Mommy, please, I need your cock.” 

She steps back over to you and runs a hand up your slit, collecting your wetness, which she then rubs on her cock. “You’re plenty wet already, but why don’t you get on your knees and show me how much of a good girl you can be.” 

She doesn’t have to tell you twice. You practically fall to the ground in front of her, ignoring the sharp pain in your knees. You look up at her, awaiting instruction, and she bites her lip softly at the sight of you. 

She puts a hand on your head and pushes you closer. “Put a hand around the base and then run your tongue up and down the length.” 

You do as you’re told and you delight in the loud moan that tears from her mouth. Her hand just rests on your head as you then experimentally suck the tip of her cock between your lips. 

“Good girl,” she says gruffly, and her praise drives you to test the waters and go down further. You bob your head on her dick, never breaking eye contact. “Fuck, baby, your mouth is so hot.” 

Meanwhile, the need inside you is growing so much you can barely fight the urge to slip a hand up your skirt. But you don’t. You figure Agatha won’t like that, and also, you want to focus all your attention on making her feel good. 

“Such a dirty slut on her knees for mommy. So desperate for this cock,” she says and you groan around the strap-on, making her hands tighten in your hair. She pulls you back and a string of saliva connects your lips to her. “Get up.” 

Once you’re standing in front of her, she flips you around and bends your front over the table so she’s standing behind you. She pushes your skirt up and traces your pussy with her cock, sliding it up your slit to your clit and then back. You’re grinding against her, trying to get some stimulation. 

“Are you ready?” Agatha asks. 

“Yes,” you answer, voice hoarse with anticipation. You feel her line the tip up with your hole and then slowly start to push in. 

Both of you moan. She is so big but the stretch is exactly what you need. Once she bottoms out, she holds still for a second, letting you adjust to her size. 

“You take my cock so well.” And then she’s pulling out and thrusting back in, picking up speed and intensity. You lift a leg up so she’s able to get deeper and you can feel her hips stutter. “You pretend to be so innocent but look at how desperate you are for me. Just a little slut, needing me to fill her up.” 

“Yes, just a slut for you, mommy.” 

Her nails dig into your hip and her other hand comes down to rub your clit. You clench around her. 

“You’re so tight, so hot, you feel so good squeezing my dick,” Agatha murmurs, saying the filthiest things right into your ear. You’re so close and it’s only been a few minutes of her pounding into you. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper. Her hand leaves your clit and you gasp. 

“Not yet, baby, wait for mommy. Do you want me to fill you up?” 

“Want you to fill me up, mommy, wanna feel you dripping out of me,” you babble. 

“Oh shit, baby, gonna cum in you. Cum for me,” she says, and you do. This orgasm is even more intense than the one before and you feel her give you one last hard thrust before warmth spreads through your cunt. She stills for just a second and then gingerly pulls out. You can feel her cum dripping out of your hole and down your leg and it almost makes you cum again. 

Agatha turns you around and spreads your legs so she can watch it better. She takes two fingers and lazily smears her cum mixed with yours all over your pussy lips. She raises her fingers to your lips and you eagerly taste both of your juices, moaning around them. 

“Do you feel better now?” she asks, a playful glint in her eyes. 

You sigh dramatically. “For now. But who’s to say I won’t get into more sex pollen some other time?”

She chuckles and matches your smirk with one of her own. “Well, I guess I better keep a careful eye on you then.” 

[runawrites-blog]

Shipping (Charles Xavier x Reader)

Summary: You're a teacher at Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters and you're quite close to Charles -- so close that a few of the students have started speculating whether or not you two are actually a couple. (Female Reader) Word Count: 3,646 Warnings: Very Minor Suggestive Themes. Light Angst. No Y/N. Reader has a last name that goes with her powers but it's only mentioned once or twice. A/N: As mentioned, the reader has a last name that correlates with her powers/mutation. Her name is Brandt (inspired by the German word Brand for fire) since she has pyrokinetic powers. But it's only mentioned once or twice by the students.

“You two are being ridiculous.”

“We’re not being ridiculous!” Jubilee defended herself, leaning over the back of the couch to throw Jean a joking glare. “Look at how cute they’re being!”

Jean gave Jubilee one more annoyed look before turning to where the other girl was pointing, her eyes falling on you and Charles at the other side of the large sitting room. She took the two of you in for a second; how Charles was looking back at you periodically with a bright smile on his face and how you were leaning over the back of his chair, a hand firmly planted on his shoulder as you looked at the files he was currently going over. She turned turned back to Jubilee and Ororo.

“See?” Ororo grinned a little and leaned back in the armchair. “Miss Brandt and the Professor are totally banging.”

“Ororo!” Jubilee exclaimed in disgust. “I wanted to prove to Jean that Miss Brandt and Professor Xavier are in love, not that they are sleeping with each other. As a matter of fact, I don’t want to hear anything about that!”

That’s when Scott piped up, raising an eyebrow at Jubilee. “To be fair, if they were dating, don’t you think they’d be sleeping with each other?”

“You two don’t have to make this gross.”

Jean quickly nodded at that. “I agree with Jubilee.”

“Really?”

“Not about the dating, but about Scott and Ororo being gross.” Jean leaned back on the couch, closing her book in her lap. “Just because they’re friendly doesn’t mean they’re dating, Jubilee. They’re probably just good friends.”

That’s when Kurt spoke up, a smile on his lips. “I think the idea of them being a couple is sweet. They seem like they would make a nice couple.”

“You too, Kurt?”

“I’m not entirely sure, though!” He quickly defended himself. “I just said it would be cute if they were together.”

Scott nodded. “I agree with that. They’d be a good couple but I agree with Jean on this one, I think. Just because they’re nice to each other, doesn’t mean they’re a couple.”

Jean nodded quickly and picked her book back up. “Now can you let me do my reading for Miss Brandt’s class? I don’t want to mess up on the test.”

“What test?”

“The test we’re traking next week about the Napoleonic Wars.” Jean explained off-handedly. “I’m currently reading the chapter in my History book and I would love for all of you to let me study.”

Kurt nodded at that. “I read the chapter yesterday and trust me, you should all start soon, as well. It’s a pretty long chapter. I could help you study if you want me to.”

“Thanks. I can’t really start now because lunch break is almost over, but I’ll take you up on that offer another time.” Scott said to Kurt before rising to his feet. “What class do we have now? Literature or Physics?”

“Literature.” Jubilee commented and grabbed her bag from the couch. “With none other than Miss Brandt, so maybe we can get some clues on her relationship with the Professor now!”

“You just want to find it out to prove you’re right, don’t you?”

“Exactly!”

All of them stopped when the clock struck two and everyone started to slowly leave the sitting room to get to class. Jubilee grinned a little as she watched Charles turn to you with a soft smile before placing his hand on top of yours for a few seconds. He gave it a short squeeze before he wheeled himself out from behind the desk and toward the door. Most days, the desks were used by students but Hank had asked Charles to review a file he had typed up and the telepath had asked you to look over it with him during lunch break.

You gave him one last smile before slinging your bag over your shoulder and grabbing the two boxes of books you were going to use for your class. Jean watched from the doors, waiting for her friends to get her belongings, as you struggled to carry both of the boxes. But before she could offer her help Charles called out your name, making you look up from the boxes to face him. He was looking back at you with his arms outstretched, smiling softly.

“Let me help you, Darling.”

“Thank you.” You smiled and handed one of the boxes to him, watching as he placed it on his lap before he made his way to the door. “We’re starting with a new book today.”

“I can see that.” Charles laughed and leaned his head back to look at you. “Didn’t you once mention that you loved Mary Shelley’s writing? What a lovely concidence that one of her books is on the curriculum, isn’t it?”

A smile appeared on your face as you stopped in your tracks. “Did you put it on there? You get to decide between three books for each new chapter of the curriculum, don’t you? I think you’ve mentioned that once.”

“I might have.”

“You’re the sweetest, Charles.”

“For you, always.”

Not wanting to intrude, Jean quickly followed her friends out the sitting room and to her class, though now she was actually contemplating on how much truth there was to Jubilee’s suspiciouns about your relationship with Charles.

---

As the days passed, Jean started to believe in Jubilee’s suspicions more and more as she watched how you and Charles interacted. She had never really paid much attention to it but now she was questioning how she’d never before noticed your gentle smiles, sweet nicknames, casual touches and quiet conversations. But what really got Jean hooked on the idea of finding out about whether or not the rumours were true, was what happened one rainy Friday evening.

It was late and some of the younger students were already asleep while Jean was studying with Jubilee and Ororo. There was a slight drizzle going outside as they hunched over their History books and notes from class. They were pretty engulfed in their studying when the earthquake started, making everything in the room rattle and shake. Jubilee nearly fell off the bed but Jean caught her and Ororo clung to the headboard.

But fortunately, the earthquake quickly stopped and the three of them got off the bed to venture to the hallway to see what had happened -- though Jean was pretty sure it was the new student with geokenesis that must have accidentally started the erathquake. Just as they stepped into the hallway, along with a few others students, you and Charles did the same. And the three girls froze when they realised that both of you had come from his room.

Jubilee turned to give Jean a grin but she wasn’t even looking at her, too caught up in watching you hurry after Charles, smoothing out your hair while you made your way to the young boy’s room. Before you could even knock he opened the door and upon seeing Charles, grabbed onto the armrests of his chair, beginning to apologise profusely. Charles reacted in his usual gentle and comforting manner, calming the boy down and checking whether or not he was injured.

It took a few minutes to calm him down but eventually Charles had convinced him that everyone was fine and there was no need for him to feel guilty. And after a few checkups on the other students, Charles proclaimed that they should all get back to their rooms. Jean ushered Ororo and Jubilee back into her room. But once inside Ororo stopped her from closing the door, pointing at you and Charles in the hallway. Jubilee and Jean looked at each other for a second before leaning over to see what their friend was talking about.

“Are you alright?” Charles asked once the last door had closed, giving you a worried once over and reaching out to take your hand into his. “I saw you hit your head on the nigthstand when you fell off my bed. Are you hurt, Darling?”

“I’m fine.” You gave him a reassuring smile before gently cradling his hand in both of yours. “Shall we get back to your room?”

Charles shook his head, bringing his other hand up to cup yours. “May I check? I promise you I will only check if you’re alright. I wouldn’t want to overlook a possible concussion. You did hit the nightstand pretty hard.”

With a relenting smile you nodded and gave his hand a small squeeze. “If it makes you feel better you can.”

While Charles placed his fingers on his temple and you held his hand tightly, Jubilee gave Jean one more triumpanth smirk. Ororo was still staring at you and Charles, completely amazed by the fact that her and Jubilee had apparently been right. And Jean crossed her arms over her chest, still not fully convinced.

“I mean, I worry about my friends, too.” The rehead reasoned softly. “That time you got hurt during dodgeball, I checked you for a concussion, too.”

“They’re literally holding hands.”

Ororo turned and placed a finger over her lips as you and Charles began to move down the hallway back to his room, now that he had confirmed you were uninjured. The three girls watched as you two arrived at Charles’ door and you glanced down the hallway once more, checking if everyone was in their rooms. Then Charles used the controls of his wheelchair to back into his room while grabbing your hand and pulling you along. You gave a surprised laugh at that and Charles smirked charmingly. And then the two of you were gone and the door to his room once more closed.

“How is that not obviously them going to do something nasty now? He literally pulled her into his room.”

“You really overuse that word.”

“What word?”

“’Literally’.” Jean answered. “Maybe they’re going over something from class.”

“You just don’t want to be in the wrong.” Ororo laughed quietly as she looked up at Jean. “They both came from the Professor’s room, looking disheveled and in their nightwear. Just now he said she’d been on his bed with him when the quake started. And she went back to his room.”

“You’re right. That kind of proves you two right.”

“Kind of?”

---

Now that Jean agreed with Ororo and Jubilee, the girls had made it their mission to find out whether or not they were right. Scott was still not convinced and Kurt kept telling them that while you and Charles would make a sweet couple it was invasive to talk about their teachers like that. His complaints did not stop his friends.

As the next few days days went on, they kept looking for clues. Jubilee kept going on about how much you and Charles were casually touching while Ororo’s main focus was the fact that he kept calling you petnames to which Scott shut her down by telling her that their professor called everyone petnames – they had to agree with him on that one.

Then Thanksgiving break rolled along and most of the students left to visit home. That year Jean, Jubilee, Ororo, Kurt and Scott had all decided to stay behind at the mansion along with a handful of other students. And due to this decreased amount of students at the school, most teachers were leaving over the holidays, as well – safe for Hank, Charles and you. It was really the perfect time for the friends to find out if they were right with their suspicions.

It was on a cold autumn day that Ororo had decided they needed to keep an eye on you and Charles, mostly because she had noticed that you were most definitely wearing one of his favourite cardigans to ward off the chill. That gave them enough incentive to use the rest of the day to try to decide which of them was right once and for all. Eventually, evening rolled along and you and Charles hadn’t acted any different around each other than usual, so the friends gave up and headed back to their rooms. That was until a storm rolled in only an hour later, bringing with it cold winds and chilly rain, prompting the friends to go to the sitting room and warm up by the fire.

“I can’t believe you still don’t believe us.” Jean commented as she walked down the hallway toward the stairs so they could go down to the sitting area. “And would you hurry up so we can warm up by the fire? It’s so cold today.”

Scott shrugged at that. “I can’t believe they managed to convince you.”

“You didn’t see the way they interacted after the earthquake.” Ororo scoffed as she hurried after them. “She was literally coming out of his room, looking dishevelled and he talked about how she’d been in his bed. And then he kept calling her ‘darling’ and fussing over her before literally pulling her back into his room.”

“You use the word ‘literally’ too much.”

Jean chuckled at Scott’s comment. “I told her that, too.”

Jubilee shrugged a little. “That doesn’t mean she’s not right. She’s been wearing his cardian all day.”

“It’s cold.”

Kurt perked up at that. “Actually, I’m pretty sure Miss Brandt has been wearing the Professor’s cardigans for the whole week now.”

“You too, Kurt?”

“As I said, I think they might make a sweet couple.” Kurt commented before frowning a little. “But should we really be this invasive?”

“We should if it proves us right.” Ororo smirked.

“I just worry that this much snooping around will make them angry at us.” Kurt mumbled before looking at his telekenetic friend. “Also, Jean, why are we going to the sitting room? I’m pretty sure the fire went out hours ago.”

“I can fire it back up.”

Scott was the first to start and decent the stairs. But as soon as he got halfay down – and with that in eyesight of the sitting room – he stopped dead in his tracks, making Ororo collide with his back. She reared up to confront him about stopping but Scott put a finger to his lips and pointed at the open doors. Kurt leaned past Scott and quieted down immediately while Jubilee smacked her hand in front of her mouth to keep from making any sounds. Jean leaned forward and her mouth fell open.

At the end of the sitting room, by the fireplace sat none other than you and Charles, cuddled up on the sofa under a blanket. And the two of you were kissing. He was cupping your face, his fingers gently and lovingly stroking your face while yours were buried in his hair, tenderly raking over his scalp. Ororo turned to Scott and pointed a victorious finger at him but he was too busy watching as you leaned back against the arm of the sofa and Charles followed quickly to deepen the kiss, not wanting to part from it just yet.

Eventually, the two of you parted and Charles leaned his forehead against yours, earning himself a small smile and a chaste peck on his lips as you looked back at him. Your hands wandered down to the side of his face where you began to stroke his skin, making a smile appear on his face. He leaned into your touch, turning his head to kiss the palm of your hand.

“Feeling a bit warmer now, my love?” Charles said softly, a bright smile appearing on his lips as you nodded in agreement. “I did promise to warm you up.”

“And you did a wonderful job at that, sweetheart.” You said in amusement, hand sliding down his neck to rest on his shoulder. “I feel very warm and very loved thanks to you.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Charles whispered, his smile faltering a little. “I do hate to see you cold and anxious about your memories, my darling. I know you’ve told me about your past many times but the thought of you being left out in the snow in an attempt to cure your pyrokinesis still upsets me terribly and makes me angry.”

“Don’t be, please.” You replied, leaning your forhead against his. “I’m here now and I’m safe. You make me feel safe, Sweetheart. Safe and warm.”

“That’s good.”

“You’re not cold either, are you?” You inquired in concern. “I know that you get cold easily and I also want to help you stay warm, especially since I pretty much stole all your cardigans.”

Charles laughed softly, obviously touched by your concern before pressing another quick kiss to your lips. “I’m fine, my love. It’s very warm in here and besides, I have you next to me to warm me up.”

“We could go upstairs and I could properly warm you up.”

“Later.” Charles promised before sitting back and stretching out his arm in invitation. “Stay by the fire with me a little longer, would you?”

“I’d love nothing more than that.”

With that, you leaned up to capture his lips in a kiss again but this time Charles didn’t reciprocate, instead pulling back and furrowing his brows. That got you to look up at him in concern, the hand you had placed on his shoulder tightening as you frowned.

“What’s wrong, Charles? Did I do something wrong?”

“You did nothing wrong, love.” Charles said softly before his voice took on an amused tone. “But we’re not alone anymore.”

With that, he turned toward the door and subsequently the staircase, making you follow his gaze. The students froze where they were standing. While Kurt worried about you two being angry, Jean flushed at being spotted and Ororo gave a small wave. Scott looked away awkwardly and a wide grin spread across Jubilee’s face. But regardless of their reactions, all of them slowly made their way into the sitting room. By the time they were close by, you and Charles were sitting up straight again, turned so you could properly face the students. Charles looked pretty amused and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at the situation.

“Now, my dears, how long have you been watching us?”

“We haven’t been watching you!” Kurt defended himself but quickly faltered as he realised that that wasn’t entirely true. “I mean, we sort of did but only for a few minutes.”

“We wanted to come into the sitting room to warm up and you two were sort of smooching on the sofa.” Ororo explained, waving at you and Charles on the couch.

“Smooching.” Scott snorted before shaking his head. “But they’re right. We’ve only been standing there for a minute or two.”

You shook your head in amusement, unable to keep a small laugh from escaping you as she watched their concerned faces. “Don’t worry now. You’re not in any trouble if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“That’s a relief.” Jean said with a small smile. “We worried about that.”

“You two are such a sweet couple, Miss Brandt!” Jubilee suddenly exclaimed, smiling brightly at you and Charles. “And you look really happy together. It’s so good you’re finally together.”

“We are happy.” Charles confirmed, reaching out to take your hand into his. “But we have been in a relationship for a long time. Honestly, I was under the impression that it was fairly obvious.”

“At least we haven’t been keeping it a secret.” You threw in before shrugging. “But then again, we aren’t overly affectionate in the presence of our students. That would hardly be professional.”

“So you’ve been dating for a while now?”

“Yes, we’ve kept it professional but we haven’t been trying to keep it a secret.” Charles explained before nodding toward the fire. “Now, if you still want to warm up, you can find yourself a place to sit. The fire is shrinking now but I’m sure my lovely darling can stoke the flames a bit.”

At his words, you stood from the couch before walking over to the huge fireplace and using your powers to stoke the flames. Then you returned to your place next to Charles and leaned back against his side.

“So tell me, what have you kids been up to all day? I barely saw any students out and about today.” You mused as you looked around. “Where you in town or in your rooms?”

“We were in our rooms.” Scott explained, pulling his legs up onto the armchair. “We thought of going into town but--”

“But we got distracted arguing about whether or not you two were dating.” Jubilee joked, looking up at you from her spot on the carpet. “We were about to start a betting pool at this point.”

“A betting pool?” Charles laughed and shook his head. “Were you really that interested in whether or not we were a couple?”

“A lot of the other students were speculating, too.” Jean defended herself but relaxed when she saw you and Charles laughing at the situation. “The pool was Jubilee’s idea.”

Jubilee nodded in agreement before her eyes widened and she laughed. “You’re like the school’s parents now. X-Mom and X-Dad.”

“Interesting superhero names, for sure.” You chuckled and looked at Charles. “You can bet I will call you X-Dad from now on whenever you act parental.”

“Thank you for that, Jubilee.” Charles said in amusement, his arm pulling you closer as he looked back at you. “But while I don’t think you were being too invasive, I’d like to ask you all to respect our privacy. We want to keep everything professional.”

“Of course.” Jean nodded. “I’m sorry that we were so nosy and invasive.”

“There is no harm done, Jean. Everything’s alright.”

“I can’t believe you were right.” Scott joked. “I guess I was just oblivious.”

Ororo nodded and looked at Jean. “And you called us ridiculous.”

“I guess I got proven wrong.”

[amirasainz]

Can you do reader is Landos sister and she’s his whole world but she’s away at school and she surprises lando at a race?

Of course!!! I hope you like this.

Send me some requests and enjoy reading

-XoXo

Little Norris

It was no secret within the paddock that Lando Norris’ favorite person in the entire world was his younger sister, YN. No matter the context—be it interviews, casual conversations, or even playful banter with other drivers—Lando always found a way to bring her up.

The paddock had grown accustomed to hearing him wistfully complain about how much he missed her, and how unfair it was that she was stuck at school, unable to attend the races.

Sadly, this wasn’t just an exaggerated tale; YN was enrolled in St. Paul’s Girls’ School, a prestigious all-girls school in London, where students could only visit their families during weekends and holidays.

However, YN’s academic commitments were so demanding that even those weekends were usually spent buried in books, only leaving the school for holiday visits. Lando’s ever-busy Formula 1 schedule certainly didn’t make things any easier.

So, it came as no surprise to Oscar when Lando began lamenting once again about how much he missed his baby sister.

“I just don’t get why she still has to go to school. It’s miles away, and she can’t even come home on the weekends,” Lando groaned, his expression a mix of frustration and longing. “The last time I saw her was in February, Oscar. FEBRUARY. Can you believe that?”

Oscar, who had heard variations of this complaint countless times before, only raised an eyebrow and responded with a calm, “Really?” knowing full well that Lando wasn’t done yet.

“And to top it off,” Lando continued, his voice rising in exasperation, “I tried calling her yesterday. And instead of picking up, she sent me to voicemail. Voicemail, Oscar! Why would she do that? Do you think she’s mad at me? Oh no, what if Mum finally told her I was the one who ate the last cupcake at Christmas? She’ll never forgive me!”

Oscar couldn’t help but chuckle at Lando’s melodramatic worry, but the constant whining had begun to wear on him. Finally, he placed both hands on Lando’s shoulders, spinning him around to face him directly.

“Lando, relax. I’m pretty sure your mum didn’t tell her about the cupcake incident,” Oscar said, trying to suppress a smile. “She’s probably just busy studying. You know how much school means to her.”

Before Lando could cut him off with another complaint, Oscar pressed on. “Look, we all know how much you adore YN, and you’d probably move mountains to keep her by your side. But you’ve got to understand—she enjoys school. She loves hanging out with her friends, and she’s passionate about her classes. She’s smart, Lando, and she adores you just as much as you adore her. So don’t go saying silly things like this. You know it would make her feel bad.”

Lando let out a deep sigh, the usual playful glint in his eyes dulled by a hint of sadness. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he mumbled, his pout still intact as he was called away by one of the McLaren mechanics.

He gave Oscar a grateful, albeit slightly sheepish, smile before walking off towards the garage.

Oscar watched his teammate disappear into the distance, and once Lando was far enough away, he exhaled deeply, the weight of the secret he’d been holding onto starting to lift. No one had ever told him that lying—even for a good cause—could be so exhausting.

Because, of course, Oscar hadn’t been entirely honest. He was well aware of just how much Lando missed his sister. In fact, he’d spent weeks meticulously planning a surprise that would, if all went smoothly, bring YN right to Lando’s side.

After countless emails, flight arrangements, and some help from McLaren’s logistics team, Oscar had managed to fly 17-year-old YN out to Azerbaijan for the next Grand Prix.

The plan was to keep her arrival under wraps until after qualifying, ensuring Lando could focus on the race without the overwhelming distraction of knowing his favorite person was already there. The last thing anyone wanted was for him to lose focus during such a crucial part of the weekend.

While Lando busied himself with free practice sessions, YN was out exploring the local markets with some of the McLaren team’s family members. She was set to return to the paddock just as Q1 began, hidden away in the garage until the perfect moment.

Oscar had envisioned Lando’s face lighting up with pure joy, his usual calm demeanor shattered by the surprise.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

But things didn’t go quite as planned.

Qualifying that day turned out to be a disaster for Lando. From the very first lap, nothing seemed to go right. He struggled with the car’s balance, fought the understeer in nearly every corner, and couldn’t extract the pace he needed. Sector after sector, frustration built. The radio was filled with agitated comments, and by the end of Q1, he had been knocked out of qualifying altogether, missing the cutoff for Q2 by mere fractions of a second.

When he climbed out of the car, his body language said it all. Lando was livid—frustrated with the car, with himself, and with the result.

His helmet visor remained down longer than usual, as if he wanted to hide his disappointment from the world.

His walk back to the garage was slow, shoulders slumped, as mechanics and engineers exchanged worried glances but kept their distance. No one dared say a word.

Once inside the team’s motorhome, Lando stormed off to his driver’s room, eager for a moment alone. The air in the narrow hallway was thick with tension, and Oscar watched him go as his teammate finally ripped of his helmet, his heart sinking.

He knew Lando was hard on himself, but he also knew what awaited him on the other side of that door.

Lando opened the door to his driver’s room with a frustrated push, expecting to collapse onto the couch and stew in his disappointment. But as soon as he stepped inside, his breath caught in his throat. Standing in the middle of the room, a small, warm smile on her face, was YN.

“Surprise,” she said softly, her eyes twinkling as she took in her brother’s shocked expression.

For a split second, Lando didn’t move. He just stood there, staring at her, as if his brain needed a moment to catch up with what his eyes were seeing. Then, suddenly, it all hit him at once—the weeks of missing her, the frustration of the race weekend, the love he felt for his little sister—and his eyes immediately filled with tears.

“YN...” His voice cracked as he whispered her name.

Without another word, Lando rushed forward and pulled YN into a tight hug, burying his face into her shoulder as if he were afraid she might vanish if he let go.

His arms wrapped around her protectively, squeezing her like a lifeline. YN, used to Lando’s emotional side, simply hugged him back, gently running a hand through his hair.

“I missed you so much,” Lando mumbled into her shoulder, his voice muffled but thick with emotion. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I missed you too, Lan,” YN whispered, a soft laugh escaping her. “Oscar helped organize it. He said you’ve been whining about me non-stop.”

Lando laughed, a watery chuckle escaping him as he finally pulled back to look at her, his hands still resting on her shoulders. His eyes were red and glassy, but his smile was the brightest it had been in weeks.

“You have no idea how much better this makes everything,” he said, his voice still shaky with emotion. “I had the worst qualifying. But... you're here now.”

YN smiled at him, brushing a tear from his cheek. “I’m sorry I missed qualifying, but I’m here for the race tomorrow. We’ll celebrate then, okay?”

Lando nodded, pulling her back into another tight hug, resting his chin on top of her head. “I don’t care about the race right now,” he muttered, his voice soft. “I’m just happy you’re here.”

For the next few minutes, they simply stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the world outside forgotten.

Lando’s earlier frustrations seemed to evaporate, replaced by a warmth that only YN could bring him. He felt calmer, more grounded, like a weight had been lifted from his chest.

Eventually, there was a knock on the door, and Oscar poked his head in with a cheeky grin. “You okay in here? Thought I’d check in before I’m accused of kidnapping your sister.”

Lando turned around, still holding YN close, and flashed Oscar a grateful smile. “Mate, I don’t even know what to say. You’ve made my year.”

Oscar laughed, stepping into the room. “I figured you could use a pick-me-up. I was getting tired of the constant whining.”

Lando rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

Suddenly, Lando’s mood shifted entirely, the disappointment from qualifying now a distant memory.

His eyes sparkled with excitement. “Right, we need to introduce you to everyone!” He glanced down at YN, who chuckled in response.

“I’ve already met some of them,” she teased, “but I’m sure they’ll appreciate your grand tour.”

“Trust me, it’s different when I introduce you,” Lando said proudly, his arm slung around her shoulders. He led her out of the room, a new energy in his step as if the earlier qualifying session had never even

With his little sister by his side, the world already looked a lot brighter than it did that morning.

[ssa-dado]

I could totally see Aaron being jealous. Maybe a oneshot of her meeting Sean Hotchner for the first time.

Covering Up - SOS

Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader Genre: fluff Summary: You’re late, and while Gideon’s passive-aggressive remarks are expected, it’s Hotch who really has you on edge. But it’s not just his authority; it’s the way you inadvertently caught the attention of Hotch’s brother, Sean. Warnings: None, just wanted to clarify the story is set around late 1998 or early 1999, before Hotch became Unit Chief (Gideon was in charge instead). Word Count: 3k Dado's Corner: You didn't see this coming, did you? Something cute to celebrate the end of the year. Sorry it took so much to respond, I totally forgot about this ask... hope you like itttttt. Again, HOTCH IN LOOOOOOOVE but doesn't want to admit hahaha what a fool.

masterlist

You were late today. Remarkably late.

For the first time ever in your life.

And while the idea of Gideon giving you one of his passive-aggressive “I’m not mad, just disappointed” speeches wasn’t exactly fun, there was one person who truly terrified you in this situation.

Hotch.

How ironic: it wasn’t your boss you were afraid of - it was your fussy coworker. The same coworker whose desk, unfortunately, happened to sit right in front of yours.

Perfect.

You were still trying to salvage your dignity in the elevator, jabbing at the elevator button, fumbling with your hair as the doors closed. Maybe an updo would make you look less… late. But by the time you reached your floor, the mess you’d made felt more “distressed damsel” than “competent federal agent.”

So, naturally, you made the split-second decision to undo the whole thing, pulling your hair loose halfway to your desk.

You winced.

Not because anyone was watching - everyone seemed too absorbed in their own work - but because if someone had been looking, you’d have perfectly executed that clichéd, overly dramatic hair flip straight out of a low-budget action movie.

The kind made by men, for men.

The ones where the femme fatale struts into the room, stiletto heels clicking, hair whipping in slow motion, cleavage doing all the talking, her entire existence engineered for the male gaze.

And here you were. No stilettos. No slow motion. Just… the hair flip.

Fantastic.

You shook it off, hoping to slink to your desk unnoticed, now more focused to brace yourself for the silent judgement of-

A man.

Not the man you expected - Hotch.

An actual man, a somehow handsome man.

Oh God. He’d definitely seen you do the dramatic hair flip.

His smirk confirmed it - no need for a profiler to figure that one out.

A man, sitting comfortably in Hotch’s chair. And, notably, no Hotch in sight.

“Are you here for a consultation with Agent Hotchner?” you asked, doing your best to sound at least professional as you set your bag down.

He chuckled – like you were the punchline of some inside joke you weren’t in on. “Actually, yes.”

Though you couldn’t help but study him... it was in your nature afterall.

He was about Hotch’s height, blond, blue-eyed, and generically good-looking in a way that probably gave him the nerve to sit at an agent’s desk without any kind of second thought.

But what really stood out? He looked about your age.

Very early twenties - which, mathematically speaking, made him way too young to be here asking for a consultation.

Not that you were one to talk. You were constantly reminded you were “too young” to be working for the FBI. So, at least you had that in common.

“Agent Y/L/N,” he read from your badge, dragging out the syllables for some of his twisted reasons you chose to ignore. Then he smirked. “You’re young.”

“She is.” Hotch’s voice cut through the air before you could form a response, making you startle slightly. He was suddenly there, right behind you, like he’d materialized out of thin air.

“Sean,” he said, his tone clipped in that uniquely Hotch way that made you feel guilty even if you’d done nothing wrong, “I told you to wait for me outside.”

“And why are you so late?” Hotch added, his focus snapping to you with laser precision, his brows drawing together in that way that made your stomach twist in both irritation and… something else.

Classic Aaron Hotchner.

Two seconds on the scene, already cataloging what annoyed him. Efficiency at its finest.

“Damn, Aaron, relax. It’s barely been a minute,” Sean said, standing up finally, though not without flinching slightly under the weight of Hotch’s glare.

He stepped closer to you, extending a hand like he wasn’t about to be vaporized by the man’s disapproval. “I’m Sean, by the way. I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

Before you could decide whether to shake his hand or politely tell him to run for cover, Hotch’s voice sliced through the air, as sharp and unyielding as ever. “No, you haven’t. Y/N, this is Sean, my brother. Sean, this is Agent Y/L/N, my partner.”

It took approximately two seconds after those words left his mouth for Hotch to realize he’d made not one but two rookie mistakes.

The first? The fact that, for some reason, you got to be “Y/N” while Sean - his brother - was firmly stuck with Agent Y/L/N.

A seemingly innocuous choice, but an interesting one.

Almost as if Hotch didn’t want Sean to forget who you were. Or worse, as if he wanted to keep that small, intimate privilege - using your first name - exclusively for himself.

And why?

Perhaps because, whether he admitted it or not, you’d managed to take up residence in his overworked brain. You weren’t just his colleague - you were his very own walking, talking paradox.

Equal parts intellect and quick wit, you could quote anything from your beloved dead philosophers as easily as you could dismantle someone’s argument with a single sarcastic comment.

You lingered, persistently, in his thoughts - too vividly, too often - so much so that you’d even started showing up in his dreams.

That might explain why his tongue betrayed him now - a slip you would undoubtedly label as ‘textbook Freudian.’

Somehow, through the cracks in the armor of the man who prided himself on control and precision, a truth he had no business acknowledging had leaked out.

Because, inexplicably and irreversibly, he’d just let his younger brother - of all people - catch the faintest glimpse of something he refused to admit even to himself: that he wasn’t entirely indifferent to you.

Not that Sean picked up on it - yet.

No, Sean’s focus was already drifting toward his second mistake, the one Hotch really hoped would keep Sean too distracted to notice the first. And, to Hotch’s silent horror, it worked like a charm.

“Partner?” Sean repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Are the two of you…?” He let the insinuation hang, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement.

Because here’s the thing - thanks to the way Hotch had worded it, Sean wasn’t just thinking that his big brother was casually sleeping with you. Oh no, this was way bigger.

This was Sean, standing here wide-eyed and completely convinced that his older, emotionally constipated, miserably single brother - who’d spent years brooding after his breakup Haley - had somehow not only managed to get a girlfriend but had kept it a secret.

And worse? That this whole scenario meant Hotch was maybe, just maybe, a little happy these days.

That alone was enough to blow Sean’s mind.

But before his imagination could run too far, you stepped in, your voice sharp and immediate. “God, no,” you blurted, practically recoiling from the suggestion.

“No,” Hotch said at the same time, though in stark contrast to your reaction, his was flat and unbothered.

Sean chuckled at your synchronized denial, which only prompted Hotch to fix you with one of his looks - the kind that felt like it could peel layers off your soul. Judgy, silent, but impossibly loud at the same time.

The kind of look that made you curious.

“Was he like this as a kid,” you asked Sean, “or was he ever actually a normal person?”

Sean’s smirk widened. “The only difference between then and now is that now they pay him to act like this.”

You laughed, loud and genuine, and Sean joined in - a perfect snapshot of solidarity between two survivors of Hotch’s relentless Hotch-ness. “Though I have to wonder… maybe he misunderstood the government’s contributions as a green light to act this way. It’s kind of like when you teach a dog to stand on two legs for a treat, and then he just keeps doing it.” You commented.

You and Sean burst into laughter, your voices echoing through the bullpen, while Hotch just stood there.

Watching. Seething.

But not entirely for the reasons he’d expect.

Sure, he was irritated that you had the audacity to make fun of him within perfect earshot - a clear, deliberate payback for all the grief and micromanagement he’d put you through.

But there was something deeper beneath his discomfort, something far more unsettling.

It wasn’t just that you were laughing at him - it was that you were laughing with Sean.

That easy, effortless kind of laughter, the kind he so rarely managed to coax out of you. Sean, his little brother, was already pulling it out of you like it was the simplest thing in the world. Like he’d cracked some code Hotch didn’t even know existed.

And that stung. More than it should’ve.

Because as much as he told himself it was ridiculous - childish, even - he couldn’t shake the flicker of jealousy curling in his chest.

A low, unwelcome burn.

It wasn’t just about the laughter. It was the way you looked at Sean. The way you seemed curious, intrigued by him in a way that made Hotch feel like an outsider in his own space. Like he was standing just outside the circle, close enough to see but not close enough to touch.

And he hated that.

He hated how much it bothered him.

Hated that he cared at all.

Hated the fact that, for all his discipline and carefully crafted walls, you always managed to slip through the cracks.

Unnoticed until it was too late.

Though you weren’t quite as unnoticed by everyone else.

Standing on the mezzanine, there was Gideon, watching you with that unshakeable calm of his. His eyes locked onto yours, and before you could even catch your breath, he called you over to his office.

It was probably for showing up two full hours late, but who could say?

Panic was all over you, though you were certain you kept it well-hidden - at least, you hoped so.

But before you could second-guess yourself, Hotch, who had been silently observing everything, grabbed a file from his desk and walked toward you at a precise angle that turned his back to Gideon.

Then, in a blur of words, he started speaking faster than you thought possible.

“I covered for you,” he said, voice low and hurried. “Tell him you went to see your mom yesterday. You took the 5:07 a.m. train. It broke down in Baltimore - stuck for an hour and forty-two minutes. That’s why you’re late. It’s all fact checked. If he asks - and he probably won’t - you don’t have the ticket because after a 90-minute delay, the company offers a full reimbursement if you send in the original.”

Before you could process what he was saying, he thrust the file into your hands.

“I filled out all the interrogatory statements for the Arlington case. If he asks why I had them, say I’m an idiot and that you cracked the unsub before I did, so the paperwork fell to me.” His dark eyes bore into yours, and for the first time since you’d met him, he sounded almost…desperate. “Don’t panic.”

Your brain short-circuited. The only thing you managed was a breathless, “Thanks.”

He watched you go, tracking every step you took until you disappeared into Gideon’s office. His jaw tightened, his fingers twitching at his side like he was bracing himself to pull you out of trouble if it came to that.

Though Sean, ever the opportunist, broke the silence. “Since when do you cover for people?” he asked.

Hotch didn’t bother looking at him, his focus firmly fixed on the files in his hands, though his grip had tightened ever so slightly. “Since her boss called her in for something unfair. She’s the first - well, second - person to arrive every day and the last to leave. She works harder than anyone here, including me, and she never complains about it. It’s not fair to punish her for being late once when she’s the one who picks up everyone else’s slack. This is a one-time thing, and frankly, it’s probably for the best - at least she got some sleep for once.”

Was that an over-articulated answer to what was likely more of an exclamation than an actual question? Yes. But better to be thorough than shallow - or at least, that’s what Hotch told himself.

Sean, on the other hand, had no qualms about being a bit shallow.

“You’re sure that’s the reason she was late?” Sean asked, his tone dripping with faux innocence. “Not because she, you know…” He trailed off, tilting his head, the mischievous grin practically begging Hotch to take the bait.

No. Of course not.

Not that there would’ve been anything wrong with it. Not because he wanted to come off as paternalistic or prudish about it.

Hell, if you really did, he hoped it was… fine.

Great, even.

But then, there was that annoying, traitorous part of him whispering - shouting, really - that he hoped it wasn’t too good.

Or serious.

Or anything worth bringing up more than once.

Damn it, Hotchner, could he not just be a normal, well-adjusted adult and be happy for someone else’s happiness without making it weird? Apparently not.

Still, he needed to give an actual response. Out of the 600,000 words available in the English language, what did he choose? The most original, expressive, and earth-shattering one of all: “No.”

Of course, it probably came out sounding way too sharp, betraying every tightly-coiled emotion he was trying to keep hidden.

Luckily - or unluckily - Sean was too busy zeroing in on something else to even notice.

“So,” Sean began, dragging out the word, “she’s single.”

…it wasn’t even a question.

Hotch exhaled through his nose, his patience already wearing thin. “Yes.” He admitted. “But don’t think about it.” He stopped him, already knowing where this conversation would eventually go.

“Why not?” Sean asked, his smirk practically carved into his face now. “You like her?” The teasing lilt in his voice was impossible to miss, but beneath it, there was a flicker of genuine curiosity.

Yes. Absolutely.

More than liked.

Liked in a way that he thought about you far too often, in places he shouldn’t, and at times he didn’t have the luxury of indulging.

Liked in a way that made him occasionally catch himself smiling in the middle of a meeting because some stray thought of you had slipped past his defenses.

Liked in a way that he imagined you during his early-morning runs, wondering if you’d find the sunrise as breathtaking as he did - or if you’d roll your eyes at his choice of music.

You probably would, because it was either the original cast recording of whatever Broadway musical he’d recently become obsessed with, or something from The Beatles.

Not just their classics, but the deeper cuts - the kind his mom had played on repeat during her own Beatlemania phase back in the ’60s, which was, admittedly, a phenomenon he’d inherited in his own way.

He liked you in a way that felt ridiculous, really.

Like the time he caught himself wondering if you’d like the tie he was wearing, not that he’d ever admit he chose it with you in mind.

Or when he stayed up too late re-reading one of your old case reports, pretending it was for work when it was really just to admire how sharp and thoughtful your insights were.

But admitting that? Out loud?

To Sean, of all people?

He’d rather reorganize the mountain of case files sitting on your desk alphabetically and chronologically - twice.

“No,” Hotch said instead, his tone clipped and matter-of-fact. “I work with her, Sean.”

Sean wasn’t one to let things go easily - especially when he sensed he was onto something. “Okay, so you work with her,” he said, dragging out the words like they were some kind of weak excuse. “But that doesn’t explain why I can’t take a shot. What’s stopping me?”

Hotch’s jaw clenched as he shifted his attention back to the windows of Gideon’s office. He didn’t want to say it, but he also didn’t trust his brother to let the subject drop without some kind of deflection. “You’re not her type,” he said flatly.

Sean blinked, caught off guard for a moment before recovering with an incredulous laugh. “Not her type? How do you know what her type is?”

Hotch didn’t respond right away.

He didn’t need to.

The deadpan look he shot Sean over his shoulder was enough to say ‘I know her type because I know her’.

Sean, however, wasn’t deterred. “Okay, genius, enlighten me. What exactly is her type, then? Because I’m charming, good-looking, and - let’s not forget - single.” He motioned to himself like he was presenting the world’s greatest catch.

Hotch sighed. “Her type,” he began almost whispering, now suddenly afraid that someone would hear him, “is someone more serious. Someone who knows how to respect her work ethic, her intelligence, and the fact that she’s earned her place here. Someone who doesn’t think he can waltz in and-” He cut himself off, realizing he was veering dangerously close to sounding personal.

Too personal.

Too bad he stopped talking before he could drop the one crucial piece of information Sean probably needed to know: as far as Hotch knew, you only dated older... much older.

And him being the same age as you? Yeah, that definitely didn’t work in his favor.

Sean tilted his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. “So… basically, someone who isn’t me. But someone who is… maybe a little more like you?” He watched the way Hotch’s shoulders stiffened at the suggestion.

Hotch turned fully to face his brother, his expression dark. “Sean,” he warned, his voice a low rumble.

But Sean wasn’t fazed. “I’m just saying, Aaron. You’re standing here, going on about how she deserves someone serious and respectful and all that, but you’re practically describing yourself. So maybe the reason you don’t want me going after her is because-”

“That’s enough,” Hotch interrupted, his tone sharp enough to cut through any further teasing. “It’s not appropriate, and it’s not happening. End of discussion.”

Sean held up his hands in mock surrender, though his smirk stayed firmly in place. “Alright, alright. But for the record, you didn’t deny it.”

Hotch didn’t bother dignifying that with a response. Instead, he turned back toward the windows of Gideon’s office, his gaze locking on your profile once more.

Sean followed his brother’s line of sight, leaning closer “She really does have you all twisted up, doesn’t she?”

Hotch ignored him.

But as much as he wanted to pretend Sean was wrong, the burn in his chest told him otherwise.

Because 'twisted up' was probably an understatement for what you were doing to him.

---

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