#its not the professors fault at all shes fine its just that the whole fucking point of the class fucks me over

[lesbianslvt666]

ellie has a huge crush on a flirty classmate who always wears very short skirts and one day they get together for a physics assignment and ellie asks the reader into her room and things get heated between them, something like ellie fucking the nonstop reader for hours straight omg 😮‍💨

Thinking thots rn

Not proofread

This was hard for Ellie, eight am classes were proven to be quiet the difficult task lately.

As soon as you entered the classroom your pretty scent illuminated and clouded all her senses.

Today your skirt was even shorter than the last one. You gave her a pretty smile and sat down to your now official seat.

To right next to her.

For the past two years Ellie had been hiding this little crush she had on you, at first it was easy, having only one class with you a week and with you seating to the opposite corner of the classroom, always paying attention and sometimes talking to your friends.

Ellie was in trance as soon as she saw you, pretty face, beautiful hair that seemed to change almost every month. And those skirts, good Lorde give her straight.

Ellie wasn’t the only one who notice how every semester your skirts got shorter and shorter, however she was always trying not to be a creep, keeping her eyes from wondering too long and trying to pay attention in class.

Just like today. Physics was one of Ellies favourite subjects, and DR. Lasky was her favourite professor, still, she hadn't heard a thing until now, the whole classroom booing at him.

"boohoo! Is your fault, none of you are paying attention to my class, therefore, I'll be the one to pick each other's partners!" his mischievous smile while saying that made Ellie and you chuckle at the same time, both looking at each other in surprise and when you caught her eyes, both turn back to look at the Lasky.

Warm cheeks and fast beating hearts connected.

This always happens at class, somehow both of you speak at the same time or laugh at the same small details. It made Ellies mind go wild and as Dina once told her "bitch you delulu" while rolling her eyes when Ellie told her you had said the same answer as her at the same time.

"okay, I'll do this with closed eyes" he picked two random people from the list of students and wrote them in the whiteboard.

One pair, two pairs.

Your name.

Followed by hers.

"fuck" she said under her breath, not looking at you.

"so I need this finished by Friday, today is… Tuesday second, so…" he said writing in big bold red letters "Friday 5th" I won't receive any, and I mean it! Homework after this date…" his voice steady while picking up his things, the assignment written beneath the date.

"hey, umm… Ellie right?" you pretty voice fogged every outside noise. She looked to where you were sitting, and to her surprise you were closer to her, leaning on her chair thinking she could hear you better this way.

Her blood flush from her neck to her ears, you were so close to her…

"yeah, that’s… um, that’s me!" she said with an awkward smile that melted our heart… and your panties…

"look, I was thinking if maybe we could start today? I have to finish another assignment for the week, so, it would be a relive if we could finish this first" your rant was followed by a sigh that ended your sentence and Ellie could picture you in other ways only with that

"yeah, um sure, like right now its fine? This was my last class of the day so…" her eyes fell to your legs again, she couldn’t stop herself, she wanted to squeeze them hard…

"umm, sure, I just… I do have another class, 'tsa short one, but if you send me your location I get to your place as soon as I am out, you have my number right?" you told her hurriedly, trying to get to your next class as soon as possible.

"yeah, yeah I have it, I texted you some study material the other week so…" she was a bit disappointed you even asked…

"perfect, fuck.. Umm, see ya' Ells. And um… text me your location!" your words hurry and your demeanour apologetic. You were sorry you had to leave her like that, but you'll make it up to her…

When Ellie arrived to her place she sent you her location and left her phone on her bed, she was kind of disappointed at how awkward she was around you.

She put some music and cleaned a bit, she wanted to give you a good impression, but her cleaning session was cut short when she heard the doorbell.

She opened the door to a smiling dripping you, clothes so wet they were sticking to your skin, your white shirt letting her know you weren't wearing a bra.

"hey… can I come in? is cold out here…" you said apologetically, soft smile clouding your features.

And she let you in, taking your bag and dragging you to her bathroom.

"let me get you a towel, and some clothes" she tossed you a towel a bit harder than she intended, the cloth falling in your head which only made you laugh hard, her cheeks went bright red, you looked spectacular…

"what, why? What happened to you?" her voice muffled by rooming around her closed trying to get you something comfortable to wear.

"one of your shirts is fine, I mean, it's only you and I right" you told her when you saw her compare her clothes, trying to find something that would fit you, due to her being taller than you.

She looked back at you, you were taking your clothes off without a second thought, fuck…

"so basically I went to my class and as soon as entered the classroom the teacher called on sick, I thought of getting something nice for us to eat but it's raining in the city right now so before I could get to the restaurant I like to order take out, the rain washed me over, so yeah…" you took Ellies shirt from her hand, she was looking at you and you didn’t mind.

As on queue the heavy droplets of water started to poor down, the sound relaxing to you.

You seamed clueless to Ellies crush on you but you truly did noticed, how she always looked at your legs, or at your breast, that’s why you always sat beside her, how you waved your hair a bit when you sit down, how you cross your legs in a way she could easily see you, how you always gave her something to think about… and now, how she was eating you all…

So you didn’t mind giving her a show…

Sitting on her bed while looking at her, she travelled to your eyes and shied, oh not right now…

"look at me Ellie…" you didn’t expecting your voice to come out so needy, and Ellie followed your command. You opened your legs for her, her shirt covering your nipples riding up until your panties were at her focal point, she almost fell to her knees.

"can I taste?" her voice somehow seemed more demanding than yours, as if both papers were inverse.

She was making it hard for you, hard for you to resist. Your hand travelled to your covered tit, toying with your nipple. "yes Ellie, fuck…" her hand now touching your lips on top of your underwear, she was going to go insane, the fabric so soaked with your sticky essence, tight on your cunt.

The hand that was on your boob made its way to her face, grabbing her by her chin and pushing her down to her knees, her face in direct contact with your heating pussy.

"don’t be shy now angel…" she took the words out of your mouth because she latched on to your clothed cunt, sucking on it through the cottony material.

You were squirming, moaning her name shamelessly, you knew she lived alone so you didn’t hid from her, how good she was making you feel.

She took your panties off and without wasting another second she went back to her place, the place where she belongs.

In between your thighs.

And she sucked and pull and massage your pussy for what it felt like hours to no end, the pleasure was getting too unbearable, a glowing feeling at the pit of your stomach signalling you that you were about to cum. To Ellie, the signal came from your twitching cunt, how you were closing on nothing, clenching empty.

So she gave you what you needed, one finger in, your pussy sucked it all the way, your moans filling the room and the squelching sounds mixing with it. Ellie felt high, the way you said her name while harshly pulling on your tits, face relaxed, eyes shut and mouth wide open.

While fingering with her tatted hand she took your face with her free one, veiny fingers guiding you to where she wanted you.

right beneath her.

"open your eyes angel" and so you did, you mouth still wide from the pleasure, and she took it as an opportunity, a glob of spit falling form her pretty lips to your hot tongue.

Your eyes rolled back on your head, how fucking dare she be this hot…

One orgasm, two orgasm, one water brake.

"so, I was thinking, maybe we could continue this until the rain is over…" you said sitting on her lap, both completely naked, glistening thighs from both of your wetness…

She smiled at you, her arm hugging you at your waist making you giggle. She unlocked her phone and opened the weather app. "here says that the rain will be over till tomorrow eight am" she said, smirk spreading all over her face.

this was shorter than expected... sorryyyyyyy

[queenjunothegreat]

Hello, everyone!!! Who wants to be sad??? I apparently did because I wrote this. Always a good day when I get to write about how much I fucking hate Beryl Grace tho! Anywho, moving on!

And now here we have day five: And That Will Be Enough

“Your hair’s getting long again,” Leo commented quietly. “We’re gonna have to cut it soon.” Jason just grunted and pressed his face harder into Leo’s stomach. Leo sighed. “Jace, you know I haven’t gotten the whole Professor X telepathy helmet perfected yet. You gotta talk to me.” Jason was silent for a long time. If it were anyone else, Leo would have gotten frustrated, but Jason always chose his words very carefully. “Estelle’s two years old now.” “She is,” Leo agreed, not really sure where this was going, but willing to follow Jason anywhere. Jason squeezed Leo tighter. “She’s– She’s so little.” “She is.” Jason went silent again, and Leo almost couldn’t breathe for the tension that hung thick in the air. Then, in a small, fragile voice that Leo knew from his own experiences whispering about his sins in a confessional booth, Jason said, “I was two when my– When I joined Lupa’s pack. D’you think I was that little?” *** Jason and Leo go to Estelle's second birthday party, which brings up some memories. Turns out being abandoned in a park leaves a mark Ao3 Anniversary Collection Day 5: Parents

Through a series of coincidences that were in no way any fault of their own, Leo and Jason never got around to meeting Estelle until she was two years old. Piper had gotten to meet her (apparently being rich and homeschooled came with its perks) but convincing the faculty of Edgarton to just let two of its students go galavanting across the country to see a baby had been a little too difficult for even Piper’s charm. Then, of course, summer had rolled around and they meant to go see her, but Jason had been unceremoniously slapped with Quest Duty from his dear old dad, Leo had managed to break his leg, and the Jackson-Blofis household had gone on a trip to Germany to introduce the baby to her grandparents, and Jason and Leo were once again back at school, still without having been in a room with everyone’s favorite baby. But this time it was different. Now, Leo and Jason were at NRU and it was much easier to convince their professors to give them the weekend off for their surrogate sister’s birthday party. 

And what a party it had been. Leo hadn’t been to a birthday party that was anything but a roomful of traumatized demigods eating pizza and pretending to be less traumatized than they were in years, and he’d never been to a party for someone that young. It had mostly been for the adults and gathered teenagers, really and truly, but there were a few kids from Estelle’s preschool there, too, and Percy had put on a quite frankly masterful puppet show for them all. They’d all had a grand old time, and the weekend was over too soon, leaving Leo, Jason, Piper, Reyna, Percy, and Annabeth to all climb on Festus’s back for a hard ride to New Rome. All in all, a fun, worthwhile experience, and Leo was glad they’d finally gotten the chance to meet Estelle. 

The problem was Jason. He was… quiet, but not in his normal “sitting back and keeping watch” way, more in a morose, contemplative way that Leo didn’t really like. Nobody else had noticed, but Leo was as fine tuned to every change in Jason’s mood like it was his job, so he noticed. So, when they finally got to New Rome and they all went their separate ways, Leo didn’t even say a word before climbing into the lumpy twin bed that had been assigned to Jason. 

As expected, Jason immediately crawled into bed after him, and wrapped his arm around Leo’s waist, and pressed his face hard into his stomach like maybe he could hide from whatever thoughts were stuck in his head. Leo frowned softly and  began carding his fingers through Jason’s hair. Along the line, Jason had finally decided to grow it out from the standardized crew cut of the Legion, but he still never let it get too long because he hated the way it felt tickling the back of his neck. 

“Your hair’s getting long again,” Leo commented quietly. “We’re gonna have to cut it soon.” Jason just grunted and pressed his face harder into Leo’s stomach. Leo sighed. “Jace, you know I haven’t gotten the whole Professor X telepathy helmet perfected yet. You gotta talk to me.”

“I don’t know who Professor X is,” Jason mumbled, still hidden away.

Leo rolled his eyes, and gave a teasing tug to the lock of hair around his finger. “Shut up. Yes, you do, and I know you do.” He felt Jason smile, and he went back to his previous petting. “Now, come on. Tell me what’s up. Please?”

Jason was silent for a long time. If it were anyone else, Leo would have gotten frustrated, but Jason always chose his words very carefully. “Estelle’s two years old now.”

“She is,” Leo agreed, not really sure where this was going, but willing to follow Jason anywhere.

Jason squeezed Leo tighter. “She’s– She’s so little.”

“She is.”

“Sally loves her a lot. Paul, too.”

“Yeah. Lots of people love her.”

Jason went silent again, and Leo almost couldn’t breathe for the tension that hung thick in the air. Then, in a small, fragile voice that Leo knew from his own experiences whispering about his sins in a confessional booth, Jason said, “I was two when my– When I joined Lupa’s pack. D’you think I was that little?” 

“Jason,” Leo breathed. He wanted to wrap Jason up, maybe even fold him up and tuck him behind his ribcage so he could stay warm and safe in the space he’d carved out of Leo’s heart. He couldn’t do that, though, not with Jason clinging to him like he was, so he just cradled Jason’s head like it was the most precious thing on Earth. “Oh, god Jason. I’m so sorry.”

“Sally wouldn’t leave Estelle, would she?” Jason asked in that same tiny voice. “Not-not when she’s so little.”

“She wouldn’t,” Leo confirmed. “Sally’s a good mom and she loves Estelle a lot.”

That seemed to be a breaking point for Jason because he took in a deep, shuddering breath and suddenly Leo’s shirt was wet. “Why-Why didn’t my mom love me? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” Leo said the word so fiercely that it came out almost like a snarl. Fiery anger and hatred flared to life in Leo’s chest, just like it always did when Beryl Grace was the subject of discussion. “Jason, no. You didn’t do anything. You were a baby, and what your mom did was wrong. I don’t– I don’t care what was going on with her and Jupiter or whatever, moms don’t leave their babies in parks, and if they do, that’s not the baby’s fault.”

Jason was shaking like a leaf, so Leo gently bullied him until they were both sitting up and he pressed kisses to every inch of Jason’s face, taking care to kiss away any of the tears that still clung to his cheeks. When he was done, he situated himself in Jason’s lap so he could tuck Jason’s face into the crook of his neck and shoulder. He pressed one more kiss to Jason’s hair before he leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “You were good, Jason. You are good. You’re kind and brave and a better son than someone like Beryl would ever deserve to call son, and I love you so much.”

Jason made a little choked sound in the back of his throat and clung to Leo like a lifeline. “Did you have a good mom?”

“My mom was the best,” Leo said with a wistful smile. He pulled Jason back just so he could press their foreheads together. Jason’s eyes were just as beautifully blue as ever, even red-rimmed and teary and Leo didn’t bother to smother his besotted smile. “She loved me lots and you know what? She’d have loved you, too. Almost as much as I do.”

Jason leaned forward that last little bit and pressed their lips together. It wasn’t a great kiss, it was far too salty and wet to claim that title, but it was one Leo knew he would remember for the rest of his life. It didn’t fix anything, not really. No matter how many times Leo proclaimed his love, it would never fill the hole Beryl had so cruelly carved out with her neglect, but maybe it didn’t need to. They couldn’t fix it, but they could face it. They could face down their ugly, hurtful pasts together and walk hand-in-hand into the brilliant future that awaited them.

And maybe that would be enough.

[zamalie]

im required to finish a speech class for my AA and i initially went oh. Just once huh. Yeah this is fine I can power through it! what could go wrong

[nagito-kissmaeda]

Mr. Komaeda’s Lesson

THE FILTH ARRIVES

Summary: You should really proofread your assignments before submitting them... AKA: Professor Komaeda fucks you over his desk (literally my dream) Word count: 4258 Contains: she/her pronouns, explict sexual content, unsafe sex, professor/student relationships, gentle dom nagito (he’s very gentle i swear) Read on AO3  ミ☆ Please send me a DM or an ask if you’d like me to write something for you!

The soothing smell of camomile lemon tea wafts around the small office. The blinds are half open, casting the orange light of the setting sun across the smooth leaves of a peace lily that resides in a pot hanging in front of the heating unit. The warm air rocks it gently back and forth. The atmosphere in the room is light and pleasant, but it does nothing to ease your nerves. 

“Do you want some?” Professor Komaeda asks as he pours himself a cup of the aforementioned camomile lemon tea. He has a little teapot sitting on his desk, it’s very cute. 

You clear your throat, fidgeting in your seat, “No thank you, I’m fine.”

“Okay, let’s get started then, shall we?” 

You’ve been dreading this meeting for weeks now. Your professor had been very insistent that this wouldn’t be a discussion about the quality of your work, but more about what he could do to help you maintain focus in lectures. There was also a brief mention about your most recent assignment, he said that he wasn’t concerned, but did want to run through a few things with you. 

He was very polite about it, which makes the true nature of your distraction only more reprehensible. 

“So, first I want to start with a simple question. How are you doing?” 

“Uh, fine?”

He nods and takes a sip of his tea, “No problems outside of our classes? You don’t need to answer if you aren’t comfortable.”

“No i- uh. I’m fine outside of classes too.” You fidget again, twisting your hands in your lap, “I’ve been...tired? But that’s my fault, I stay up too late.” 

He hums thoughtfully and rests his chin on the palm of his hand, “Could that be having an affect on your focus? I can see that you have been distracted in our most recent lectures and just want to make sure it isn’t a fault of myself or my material.” He laughs a little to himself, “I know I can be a little boring sometimes.” 

Professor Komaeda is not boring. He’s probably the most engaging lecturer you’ve ever had, passionate about his subject matter and very enthusiastic about class participation. He also wears really tight trousers and has long dexterous fingers that you can't help imagining inside of your-

“I mean, being tired could be the problem?” A bold faced lie. 

“Well in that case there isn’t much more I can suggest than a good night's rest.” He gives you a long look that makes you squirm in your seat, “I only graduated a few years ago myself, I understand the urge to make the most of your day, but you can’t keep burning the candle at both ends.” He takes another sip of his tea, a drop misses his mouth and rolls down his chin. He catches it with his thumb, which he then brings up to his lips and sucks. You swallow deeply, tearing your eyes from where his lips are meeting his skin. Your knee starts bouncing. Nerves. 

“Would it help if you sat a little closer to the front of the lecture hall?”

It wouldn’t. Especially not on warm days when he loosens his tie and undoes the first three buttons on his shirt. You spent a whole lecture transfixed on the dip of his collarbones once. Not great for your note taking, “maybe I’ll give that a go next week” you say. Another lie.

“Okay, try that out and let me know if it helps.” He gently sets down his teacup and starts working his white hair up into a bun. His fingers are so delicate as he combs through the strands, pulling his hair up and away from his pale throat, exposing the length of it to your hungry eyes-

A noise escapes from your mouth. Almost a whine, but not quite. Professor Komaeda doesn't say anything, but his intense eyes meet yours for just a moment. You clench your thighs together.

“Are you ready to talk about your assignment now?” He asks, picking the teacup again. It’s decorated with sunflowers, almost criminally cute, “No reason to be nervous. I want to make it clear that this matter hasn't had any affect on your grade, just some advice for next time.”

You nod shakily. Despite all of his reassurances, you are still very nervous. Partially because you wanted a good grade, partially because you had worked on that essay day and night with the intention of impressing him. So stupid. 

He gives you a pleasant smile and rifles through his desk for a moment, pulling out what you quickly recognise as a printed copy of your essay, “Take a look, i want to see if you can figure it out first.”

“Um...okay…” You skip past the title page and into the meat of the essay, reading through all of your points and making sure there weren't any obvious spelling mistakes. There wasn't anything that you could see, “Sorry...um...what page is it on?”

His teacup clinks when he sets it down again, leaning forward on his elbows and resting his chin on his hands. You can feel your heart fluttering in your chest, your palms are getting sweaty, “It’s on the title page actually. I’m surprised you didn't notice it.”

You shoot him a quizzical look and flip back to the first page. Your stomach plummets. 

Titles have never been your thing, summing up an entire essay in just a few words isn’t easy, so you usually use a placeholder right up until you submit it. You remember changing it, you remember triple checking it was changed before you emailed it through. But something must have gone wrong because in big bold capital letters, the title of you assignment reads: 

ESSAY SO GOOD PROFESSOR KOMAEDA WILL FUCK ME OVER HIS DESK 

Your hands are shaking, the edges of the paper crinkling under your tight grip. You are going to fail...you are going to be expelled...you are going to-

“Ah. I see you’ve realised your mistake, hm?”

Your head shoots up, forgetting for a moment that he is still sitting across from you. 

“Professor...I-I’m...obviously I’m…” you can’t get out a goddamn sentence, your mouth has all dried up, “I don’t even...I can’t…”

You are taken aback, when Professor Komaeda giggles. It’s a light little sound, he covers his mouth with a hand, “You are very bold, aren’t you?” 

“I….” 

“No need to worry, I’m not reporting this to the dean or anything like that. I see no reason to expel you over a silly little mistake like this one.”

“You...You dont want me to drop you class?”

He laughs again, you shrink under the intensity of his green eyes, “I’m not going to make you, no. If the situation isn’t going to make it even harder for you to focus during lectures, you can still come to class. I won't stop you, it is your choice.”

He is being remarkably cavalier about all of this, it’s almost unsettling, but you don't want to drop his class so you can't help being grateful, “Thank you so much, I...I promise i won't do this again.”

Professor Komaeda hums aloud, eyes half lidded as he looks at you from across the desk, “Won’t do what again?” he asks, though honestly its more of a purr, “Won’t think about me fucking you, or wont make the mistake of writing it down?”

Hearing the word fuck drop from that perfect mouth of his sends you into overdrive. Your thighs are clamped so tight together that your legs are shaking, you can feel yourself breathing hard, “I...uh...I....” you swallow, “I won't do...either?”

“There's no need to lie to me.” He breathes, standing up from his chair and rounding the desk. You can feel yourself quivering in his shadow, he towers over you. Your breath catches in your throat when one of his hands makes contact with your chin, slowly lifting your head up until you meet his eyes. His expression is positively hungry, “I want to make something very clear. This is your chance to leave, if you do we will never speak of this again. If you don’t, well…”

All you can do is stare at him, mouth going dry with realisation. 

“Your essay was very good, by the way.” He leans down until his nose is almost pressed against yours, you can smell the tea on his breath. You can feel the warmth of his skin, you can count his eyelashes, “Good enough that i’ll fuck you over my desk if you still want me to.”

In a moment of hungry lucidity, you grab him by the tie and tug his lips down to yours. Colliding in a positively ferocious kiss. You feel him laugh against your mouth before he slips his tongue in between your lips and traces your upper row of teeth, his tongue is wet and warm, your thighs are rubbing together as you grow desperate for any sort of friction. Professor Komaeda must be in a similar state, because he grabs you by the waist and tugs you up to your feet. Pressed firmly against him like this, you can feel the evidence of his arousal through his slacks, a moan escapes you when you feel his hips buck. 

He laughs again, pulling away from your mouth to press a hot kiss to the side of your throat. You feel his long fingers toying with the hemline of your skirt, slowly slipping up underneath it, “These pretty little things…” he whispers, tugging on the top of your thigh high stocking and releasing it with a snap, “do you wear them for me?”

There’s no point lying anymore. You can’t stop shaking, “I...yes…”

You feel him moan against your skin, sinking his teeth into the join between your neck and shoulder, “Did you really think I wouldn’t take notice? Of the way you undress me with your eyes in class, of these tiny little skirts you started wearing?” He grabs a handful of your ass and you squeal, “you’re so gorgeous. You could have anyone in that class if you wanted, but here you are with me-“ he grinds up against you, cock warm and hard through his slacks, “-I don’t understand what I’ve done to deserve this.”

His voice is so soft and gentle, even while he’s palming your ass and grinding his hips against yours, he still talks like he’s giving a lecture on historical literature. It’s hot, how easily he is able to maintain his composure while you are little more than a quivering mess beneath him, but still...you want to see him come undone.

You hear more than feel your knees colliding with the wooden floorboards. Professor Komaeda is unable to give little more than a surprised look before you have his slacks and boxers shoved halfway down his thighs and his cock in your mouth. He lets out a shocked little moan, burying his long fingers into your hair as his hips stutter forward. Now that was the reaction you wanted. 

“Oh...ohhhh-“ he whines, slowly moving himself in and out of your mouth as you tease his head with your tongue, “ahh...your mouth feels so good, angel.” 

You were not expecting him to call you angel. It’s like a bolt of lightning to your cunt, your hands jump up the dig deep into the meat of his thighs as you moan downright salaciously around his cock. 

“I can feel you moaning.” He whispers, “I can’t believe how much you’re enjoying this” you look up at him through your lashes and see his cheeks are red, his perfect lips are swollen from his biting them incessantly. You moan again just from the sight of him, he hisses and his hips cant forward deeper into your mouth, “wow. You...You really like doing this don’t you? Wrapping your perfect soft lips around my filthy cock?” 

Filthy? That makes your eyebrows jump. You could always tell that your professor had some sort of inferiority complex, but you didn't realise it was...this intense.

“S’pretty.” You managed to slur around him, “Tastes good.”

He laughs again, it explodes from his mouth and shakes his shoulders. Unbridled, almost wild. He grins down at you, “I’m sure it doesn’t taste as good at you.” He purrs, tucking your hair behind your ear, “get up on the desk.”

Well, you weren’t going to say no to that. You give his cock one last long lick before standing back up from the floor, just before you hoist yourself up on the table, Professor Komaeda grabs you by the wrist, “Panties off, please.”

You feel yourself turn crimson, but dutifully shimmy out of your panties and let them drop to the floor. He smiles at you, hands curling around your waist as he leans into your ear, “that’s my girl.” He whispers, and lifts you up onto his desk. His hands are cold on the bare skin of your thighs peeking out from the top of your stockings, your stomach twists and curls as he slowly edges your legs open, and drops to his knees between them.

“Oh my god…” you squeak, he’s staring up at you with a look that is downright sinful and he doesn’t break eye contact, even when one of those perfect fingers slips inside you, “agh!” 

He chuckles warmly, gently thrusting his finger in and out of you, “you’re so wet, angel...I can’t imagine why someone like me is making you so aroused, but I’m not complaining.” 

His finger curls inside of you, and your hips jolt, “Mmph! Pro-Professor I-“ 

He smiles saccharinely as a second finger pushes its way inside you, “Nagito.” He corrects, pressing a hot kiss to the inside of your thigh, “We’re well beyond the need for formality. Don’t you think?” You cover your mouth to muffle a squeal as he adds a third finger. Your knees are wobbling and you can barely breathe, he’s just sitting between your legs and grinning at you, “Now let’s see if you taste as good as i imagine, hm?”

He pulls your clit in between his lips and sucks. You have to bite down on your hand to keep yourself from screaming, “F-Fuck...Nagito...I--hng!” 

“It is after hours, you know.” He whispers, you can feel his breath on your cunt and you shiver, “There’s no reason for you to restrain yourself.” He licks your clit again and moans, “Haa...It may be selfish of me, but i want to hear you. If you’ll let me.”

“Oh god-” You hiss out when his tongue starts circling around you, “-keep doing that, and you’ll hear me alright.”

Nagito giggles and peers up at you, “Then I suppose I'll get back to work.” He hoists your thighs over his shoulders, and starts eating you out in earnest. You lean back on your elbows, and watch his soft white hair bob between your thighs as his tongue works it’s magic, he alternates between running the flat of his tongue up the length of you and focussing directly on your clit. Your toes are curling, mouth wide open with a constant stream of moans and whimpers that you have no hope of stopping. It feels so good, you had dreamt about this alone at night in your bed and even in those fantasies it hadn't felt this good. 

His fingers slip out of you, but before you even have a chance to complain, they are replaced with his tongue. You moan so loudly that it rumbles through your chest, your hips rise up to meet his mouth and his hands curl around the soft flesh of your thighs, tugging you even closer. He groans. The wet muscle is slowly thrusting in and out of you when he presses down firm on your clit with his thumb, “I--mmph...Nagito m’gonna cum…” your hips are grinding relentlessly up against his face and you can feel your hair sticking to your forehead with sweat. 

“Cum for me, angel.” He whispers, thumb rubbing your clit in brutal circles, “I want to feel you squeezing around my tongue.” 

You throw your head back in a howl as his tongue slips back inside, the desk rattling with the force of your quivering hips. You can hear the slick sounds his mouth is making against your cunt, the way he is panting and moaning just from the taste of you. The tightness in your stomach grows unbearable, then he curls his tongue upward, and it snaps. You see whiteness behind your eyes, thighs shaking with the intensity of it. You can feel the vibration of Nagito’s moan inside of you and his fingers dig tight into the meat of your thighs. He’s enjoying your orgasm almost as much as you are. 

When he finally pulls away from you, the lower half of his face is glistening with your wetness. He gives you a pleased smile, eyes half lidded as he brings his wet fingers up to his mouth and licks them clean, “I knew you would taste good.” He whispers, wiping the mouth with the back of his hand, “Think you can cum again, angel?”

Just watching him suck on his fingers is enough to get you going again, “Yeah, I definitely can.”

He laughs and stands up from the floor. His cock is flushed red and dripping, you suddenly realise he hadn't touched it that whole time, he must be painfully hard at this point. You lick your lips, you can't help it. He follows your line of sight and smiles, “Be a good girl and bend over the desk for me, please.” 

You slide down off the desk, ready to follow his orders but quickly stop yourself, “Oh. One second.”

“Hm?”

You grab the teapot from the desk and quickly rest it on the windowsill, “Sorry. That was a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Ah, yes. You’re right.” His hand slips up to your cheek, thumb resting on your lips. He smiles when you pull it into your mouth and suck, “I’ll have to thank you for saving my carpet. Unless you see any other hazards, i would still like to fuck you.”

That word again. It sounds doubly filthy when he says it, the way his lips mold around it is downright sinful. A shaky moan drops from your mouth as you turn around and do as he asks, your breasts are squished up against the sturdy wood, and the desk is a little too tall for you, your feet are dangling just above the floor. You’re shaking with anticpation, and it grows even worse when you feel the warmth of Nagito’s palm caressing your ass, “For my own peace of mind…” he whispers, his other hand running a finger up the length of your sex, “When do you graduate?”

You laugh, “It’s a little late for that, isn't it, Professor?” you feel his hand still on your ass and you clear your throat, “Uh, this is my last semester. A few months.”

He sighs pleasantly, “Ah, that’s good. This has been very fun, though i'm not sure we should do it again.” You feel the head of his cock kiss your entrance and hiss through your teeth, “At least...not for a few months.” You can hear the smirk on his face.

“I’ve waited this long.” You say, grinding backwards into his cock, “I can wait again.”

He leans down until his mouth is right beside your ear, “Good girl.” He whispers, and finally thrusts inside of you. It feels so good, he fills you so well. Your cheek is pressed firmly against the hard wood of the desk and a pathetic little mewl escapes your mouth at the feeling. You cunt already dripping from your last orgasm, you take him so easily, so smoothly. It feels like he is meant to be inside you. 

You feel a hand on your lower back, pushing you further down onto the desk and Nagito hisses through his teeth. Pumping slowly and deeply inside of you, like he is savoring it, “You’re doing so well, angel. I--fuck...You’re so warm.” his breathing is laboured, the rhythmic sound of his hips hitting your ass is echoing around the room, “I still can’t believe you’re letting me do this to you. I must be the luckiest man alive.” 

“Please...more!” you whine, trying to force him deeper inside of you with the movement of your hips. 

Nagito lets out a strangled moan and starts pounding faster, one of his hands slipping down between your legs to circle your clit, you cry out at the extra stimulation, toes curling inside of your shoes. The desk is shaking with the force of his thrusts now, there's a cute little statuette of a frog that falls down to the carpet with a clatter, but he doesn't stop. 

“You feel so good, darling...I--I don't think i can-” a groan rips through him and you can feel his thrusts growing sloppier, “-you’re so good for...so perfect...I can't hold--ah ahh” he swallows, “Please, angel, i want to feel you cum again.”

You’re close, mouth raw from panting and moaning, legs going numb from behind suspended in the air. Then, the finger on your clit presses down firm and his cock grinds up against your g-spot. That is all you need, you come unraveling under him, the walls of your cunt clenching impossibly tight around him.

“Ah, yes!” He cries, grabbing your hips and pounding you desperately, relishing in the feeling of your hot, tight cunt. Milking him dry, “Good, girl. So good for me.” Then, he cums, you feel his cock throb deep inside of you as his hips stutter and slow. 

It is only now that you are hit with the realisation. You just fucked Professor Komaeda. Holy hell.

All you can do is lay there while he slowly pulls himself out of you. Wincing a little at the wierd feeling of emptyness. You manage to roll yourself over, laying flat on your back with your legs still dangling from the desk. Nagito laughs and presses a kiss to your cheek, “Are you alright?”

You laugh weakly, “We’re going to get in so much trouble.”

“Not if no one finds out.” He tucks some of your hair behinf your ear, “Don’t worry about it, I’m very lucky with this sort of thing.”

“I just dont want you to get in trouble.”

He giggles, “That’s very kind of you, but this was as much my choice as it was yours.” he runs his fingers down your cheek and gives you a gentle kiss on your lips, “I meant what i said, about meeting up again.”

You manage to pull yourself up until you are sitting upright, you give him a sleepy smile, “Yeah, me too. I like you a lot.”

“How very sweet of you to say, angel.” He presses his forehead to yours and tangles your fingers together, “Let’s get you cleaned up now, hm? Can’t have you walking home like that”

To be honest, you aren’t sure you can walk at all.

____________________________

A few months later, you are sitting in the local cafe and applying for some jobs on your laptop. You did well on your final assessments and graduated with flying colours. It’s only a few more days before you need to officially move out of the dorms, and finding a new apartment (along with a job to pay for it) has not been easy so far. 

You huff and push your hair back from your face. Your phone pings, and you ignore it. It’s been pinging for the past few minutes and you are not in the mood to check it. The job you are currently applying for made you retype all of the information in your resume even though you just uploaded it, and you are not happy. 

The phone pings again and you groan, grabbing it and flipping it over. It looks like it’s just the group chat, as loud as always. As you go to close the message notifications though, you see one from about ten minutes ago that isn't from your group chat. Your heart is racing. 

Hello!

I still have your number from when you asked for an assignment extension at the beginning of last semester. I hope you don't mind me using it. It’s been a few months, I'd like to see you again, if you wouldn't mind.

-Nagito

Oh shit. Your heart is beating a rapid tattoo in your chest. You had been so caught up in the job hunt and apartment hunt that you had all but forgotten about...this. You swallow and manage to force your shaky hands to type.

Oh hey!

It’s nice to hear from you. I’m free this weekend if you want to meet up, I still live in the dorms though, so it’ll have to be your place.

It's only about a minute before you get a reply.

Lol! I was thinking we could start with coffee, but I'm not going to lie and say i wasn’t hoping it would end up in my bedroom. 

This weekend works for me. I can pick you up around 11?

You smile at your phone, cheeks turning crimson.

Sounds good. I’ll see you then.

You quickly update his contact details in your phone from Professor Komaeda, to Nagito <3.

[autumnsnuggling]

“Wait here I’ll go run a bath” or “can I hold your hand?” For the drarry headcanons!!

Hi Nonnie! Okay, so, this is not a headcanon, but this sprang into my head! Hope you enjoy. Thanks to @rockmarina for the beta! No warnings other than strong language, just figuring out life after the war :)

It was stupid. So fucking stupid. And yet it was true.

He, Draco Abraxas Malfoy, was on the verge of tears thanks to a fucking muggle play! 

Okay, fine, the fact that it was muggle wasn’t a big deal anymore, and maybe he’d been curious about muggle things for a while now, but still! It was the principle of it. He was a Malfoy, for Morgana’s sake! A member of a once well revered, esteemed—even feared family. He was supposed to be above the atrocities that plebeians called ‘emotions’, and yet here he was, allowing some confounded nonsense called The Lion King to make him weep! Thank Merlin his father wouldn’t hear about this.

It was all Professor O’Neill’s fault. If she hadn’t insisted on taking them to a performance of the bloody thing for Muggle Studies, he would have continued on merrily through life without ever watching Simba realise that the life he’d known had suddenly ended, the dreams he’d planned to make reality with relative ease were unobtainable, and his world was now irreparably destroyed. 

But he had. 

And now he was a stupidly shivering wreck, fighting to hold back tears.

Stupid fucking play, he cursed silently, desperately staring anywhere but the stage. With its stupid fucking wooden animals, and stupid cunt fucking story.

But cursing didn’t drown out the chilling music chasing Simba from the pride-lands, and still Draco’s eyes stung. Re-evaluating the worn, faded carpet as a glorious runway to freedom, he forced a hard swallow, when it happened. Right beside him. Mere inches away. 

He sniffed.

Seconds stretched for centuries as Draco barely dared to breathe, waiting, listening, but no sound came. Slowly, the pounding of his heart slowed. But as a build-up to another ridiculously happy-clappy song began, unbidden, his eyes slipped sideways just in time to catch another decidedly wet sniffle shiver through that scrawny chest. His mouth fell open. 

Harry Potter, slayer of Moldy-Voldy himself, was crying—crying—over a stupid fucking muggle play.

Just like him.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” 

Potter’s exhausted voice cut through the raucous cacophony of chatter and laughter that was the intermission, practically making him jump out of his skin.

“Wh—what? Er, I mean,” Draco cleared his throat, “I’ve absolutely no idea what you mean, Potter.” 

“You were staring at me,” Potter sighed, not even bothering to spare him a glance. “After Mufasa died. Which means you noticed I was upset. And you’ve always had something to say about everything I do, so, whatever it is, just get it over with,” he muttered bitterly, staring at his stupid knobbly knees. 

Of fucking course, Draco rolled his eyes. Of course Potter’s ginormous ego would convolute everything so that he was the centre of attention. How could he just assume that he—Draco, divine and sublime in every sense of the word—would have anything to say to him? Why would he have even noticed anything about him in the first place?! It was ridiculous. Preposterous! Utterly and completely—

“Can I hold your hand?”

Fuck.

In the instant it took Potter’s head to snap to him, Draco prayed to no less than 17 deities, twelve ancestors, and the soul of Albus Dumbledore himself for the ground to swallow him whole. But, as usual, either no one listened, or they unanimously decided to ignore him. Bastards.

“What?” Potter asked, after an excruciating century, finally sounding half-way alive.

“I said I have nothing planned, Potter!” he snapped frantically, brushing his trousers clean of imaginary lint with a little too much force than necessary. 

“No,” the Chosen Sod said slowly. “You asked if you could hold my hand.” Draco’s stomach churned sickeningly. “Why?”

But for once in his life, the ability to form words had apparently fucked off entirely. Realising he was gaping codfish-like under the searching gaze, he turned resolutely to the stage, cheeks flaming. But still, the prick watched him.

“If you have a problem, Potter,” he spat, fists clenching. But finally, with the dimming of the lights, the pillock reluctantly dropped his gaze, and Draco forced a very measured breath in an attempt to get his stupid shoulders to return to their normal level. 

He needn’t have bothered. 

As deafening applause assaulted his ears, hot, calloused fingers grasped his, slightly sweaty yet sure, as their owner stared directly ahead, jaw tight, breaths trembling. 

Staring at the bitten nails, Draco could barely swallow past the heart thumping in his throat as Potter adjusted in his seat and ignored him entirely. Yet as lush scenery morphed into a chilling, emaciated land, he knew the grip tightened slightly.

Breath stuttering in his chest, he dared squeeze back.

[donutloverxo]

Pink lady

Note - For the lovely @lielullabyes 500 followers challenge! Congrats babe🥰🥰

And for @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18s challenge and birthday! I'm sorry I'm a bit late! Hope y'all like it❤❤

Summary - You try to convince your professor to give you a better grade.

Warnings - smut, age gap, professor/student relationship, deep throating, cock warming.

Prompts - professor!character x student!reader for snow

Gif prompt + your professor has a different kind of extra credit in mind for navy and siri

Pairing - Andy Barber x reader

Word count - almost 4k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

You closed your eyes rubbing them to sooth the dryness. You had a long day and getting anything through your thick skull was turning out to be a challenge.

Of course it would. You were never an amazing student. You just studied the night before the exam and cramped whatever you could, writing what you remember on the test the next day. And yeah it wasn’t the most ideal way to study but it had worked so far for you. You got by alright.

It was more of all the shitty professors you’ve ever had than your fault. None of them could ever get you really interested in their subjects. They either didn’t care enough or only knew how to abuse their power.

But then he walked into your class. He was pretty enough to be a model or an actor. You just assumed he was someone famous. You felt as if you’ve met him before, as if you’ve known him your whole life. You were shocked to hear he was your new criminology professor, along with being a DA. Which has to be a demanding job.

It was impossible to not listen to him when he spoke, his voice so smooth like honey, carrying hints of a Boston accent he let slip whenever he got too passionate, which was quiet often.

He had broad shoulders and thick biceps he hit under those expensive suits and dress shirts. But it was more than that. He acted as if he cared. About his students, about the things he was teaching you. He always encouraged questions and helped everyone with their doubts. He had you on the edge of your seat with every word he said.

He even knew all the students by their names. Well... everyone except you.

You never interacted much in your classes, too afraid to make a fool of yourself in front of your dream man. So you had decided to buckle down and study as much as you can so you can finally raise your hand when he asked a question. How amazing it would be to hear him say ���Good job' to you.

Maybe it isn’t classy to harbor such sinful thoughts about your professor. But the way his pants stretched over his round butt, hugging his long legs and creasing as he leaned against the edge of his table, his thick dark beard framing his face so perfectly, was just so mesmerizing. He was sex on legs. Were you really to blame here?

You had made sure to get to class ten minutes early so you could sit on the first bench. To get a close up look at the show. He was talking about something, you couldn’t really focus on. Your eyes stuck to his crotch, and how you could clearly see the imprint of his...

“Shit” You whispered as you heard him call out your surname, suddenly realising that he had his eyes on you.

“What do you think?” He asked.

“Wh – I – don’t really think a lot.” You stammered “I’m sorry what was the question?” You cringed at yourself.

“Try to pay attention next time.” He scolded you as you cowered under his intense gaze, his lips set in a hard line as he went back to addressing the whole class and resuming his lecture.

He didn’t even spare a look at you the rest of the class. You had to keep your tears at bay. It would’ve been better if you were invisible to him. Anything would be better than being publicly humiliated like that.

You decided then and there that you don’t like him. Sure you weren’t paying attention but how dare he point that out? He would never do that to anyone else. What the fuck did he have against you.

Nope. You were going to hate him now and bear him till the end of the semester. But then, all your resolve went out the window as soon as he turned around to write something on the board, giving everyone a nice view of his 'cute bubble butt'. At least that’s what you heard someone else call it. Although the kind of feelings it gave you were anything but cute.

After two long torturous hours the class was dismissed. You scrambled to pack up your bag. You were about to leave your, but body stopped of its own accord when you heard him call out your surname again. Sending shivers down your spine. You took a deep breathe turning around to look at him, your mouth suddenly dry and your hands clammy and sweaty.

“Yes professor Barber?” You asked as you stood a few feet away from him, staring at his shoes as if they were the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. You could not look at his face. You would melt on spot and make an idiot of yourself, again.

You cursed as he walked towards you standing just in front. You had never been so close to him before, you could smell his musky cologne, feel his hot breath on your forehead.

“Don’t you think it’s rude to not look at your professor when speaking to him?” He asked cocking his head.

He couldn’t but feel proud and satisfied as you complied so easily, looking up at him. The tip of your tongue peaked out to lick your lip before your lower lip was caught in your teeth as you chewed harshly on it. A very distracting habit of yours. He really had to resist the urge to groan.

He wondered if you knew you were so cruelly teasing him or if you were as oblivious as you seemed to be.

He was excited when he was offered a position to be a teacher, a chance to shape young minds. To make a larger difference in the world. He stayed up all night preparing for his first lecture. He was always thorough with his work. He had made up his mind to do his best and be a good teacher.

But he knew he was ruined as soon as his eyes landed on you.

He wasn’t one for making friends. Always having trouble trusting people. Especially in his profession. It wasn’t that he was shy. He hated small talk and just didn’t have a lot to say, unless he was in a courtroom, even if he did he wasn’t always sure how he should say it.

But when he and his colleagues had a win on a particularly hard case, bringing down a huge mob after working tirelessly for over 3 months, he agreed to go out for drinks to celebrate. He did need to wind down a bit. When he wasn’t at the office he was at home either working or sleeping.

He was sitting on the bar stool with Henry the paralegal he had come to like the guy. He had been a huge help with the case. Henry was going on about his daughters biology project when Andy felt a tap on his shoulder he looked over his shoulder before turning around to get a proper you.

There you stood, leaning against the bar with a dopey grin on your face. He couldn’t help but do you a once over, looking you up and down, you were wearing a hot pink dress that hugged your waist before flaring over your hips. He smiled at your cute kitten heels with small white bows on them. You looked so beautiful, your hair tied up in a high ponytail as curls framed your sweet face.

“Hello mister businessman mister!” You giggled before covering your mouth as you let out a hiccup. “Oops excuse me.”

“I’m not a businessman.” He smiled shaking his head.

“Well you sure do look like one!” you laughed weakly punching his bicep “Oh my gosh” You gulped pressing his bicep in your palm “You must work out.”

“I dabble here and there.” He said waving it off as if it wasn’t a big deal “Can I buy you a drink? Are you old enough to be here?” He wondered.

“I’ll have you know I’m more than old enough” You said proudly. Normally, he would never even consider flirting with someone who looked so young, but for some reason he just couldn’t stop. “Yes I will have a drink. Wait no! No I won’t!” You gasped.

“That’s probably a good idea. You seemed to have had plenty. How about a coffee?” He offered.

“Nope I’m fine. I’m here for my friend Stacey. She likes you.” You drawled out moving your hips side to side dancing to a tune stuck in your head.

“And you don’t like me?” He pouted.

“Noooo” You whined cupping his beard in your hands. He kept pouting to milk some more sympathy from you but was completely taken aback when you pressed your soft cushiony lips over his. You pulled back staring into his eyes and said “I like you a lot! But sisters before misters you know. I couldn’t do that to my friend.” And now you were the one pouting.

He heard Henry clear his throat behind him “I’ll just go on home then. See you tomorrow man.” Andy couldn’t be bothered to turn around to say goodbye, his eyes completely focused on you.

“Oh no your friend left. Whatever you’re going home with Stacey anyway.” You looked around for your friend “Where is she? Oh no! She’s not here.”

Andy frowned looking around the bar with you “Don’t worry she must be in the bathroom or something. Why don’t you try calling her?”

You whipped out your phone from your bag. Your lips starting quivering and eyes turned glossy as you looked at it. “Hey what happened?” His instincts screaming at him to sooth your panic state. He just ran his hand up and down your forearm, there wasn’t much else he could do without seeming like a creep.

“My friend left! She said she went home with a wall street guy. Left me all alone.”

He frowned at that. “Your friend doesn’t deserve you.” He stated as if he knew you. He didn’t but he knew how loyal you were to your friend when you turned him down. Who would abandon such a sweet thing like you?

“And we were gonna go to dinner and everything.” You sniffled “I’ll have to walk home now.”

“No you won’t.” He blurted clenching his jaw. He knew just how bad men could be. He would never let a clearly inebriated woman go home alone.

Sure in any other case he would’ve called or even paid for an taxi. But he couldn’t say goodbye to you just yet. So he offered to take you home. And with some convincing you agreed.

He secured you into the passenger seat before putting your address in the GPS. He found himself laughing more than he ever had at your incoherent drunken ramblings.

“Do you believe in aliens?” Before he could even answer you continued “What if this is all just a simulation. By aliens. Like what if we’re in a tv show. That’d be awesome.” You leaned against the window, closing your eyes.

“Are you this funny when you’re sober?” He wanted to know. Although he had an inkling that you definitely would be.

“Yes I am! But my friends tell me I talk too much.” You said scrunching up your nose.

“I could listen to you talk all night. But I think we’re here.” He said parking across a building. “is this it?”

“Yeah” You nodded. “You’re right dude. They don’t deserve me.”

“Don’t call me dude.” He grumbled. You call your friends ‘dude’. And he had no intentions of being just a friend to you.

“Fine dude” You chuckled. “Do you have a pen?” You asked.

“Uh I think” He felt his pockets and then pulled out a fountain pen he always carried around with him.

You took it from him and shook your head. “You business men and your pens” You snatched his arm and started writing something on his palm.

“I keep telling you I’m not a business man.” He argued.

His heart swelled with giddiness as he saw you write down numbers on his open palm.

“Call me if you wanna hear me talk some more, ‘night.” You struggled to open the door before stumbling out. He made sure you got inside your building safely before he entered your number in his phone. He didn’t ask your name, too caught up in your rant about women’s jeans not having pockets. So he just saved it as ‘pink lady’.

He was so excited to hear from you again that he called you the next morning. Only you had given him the wrong number. He didn’t know if it was a mistake or if you had just lead him on. He considered maybe ‘accidentally’ bumping into you near your apartment. But then he saw you. In his class, as his student.

You didn’t seem to remember him but obviously had a crush on him. You weren’t such a confident talker without the influence of alcohol, the one time he asked you what your name was you just replied with ‘I’ve never had one.’ Which was adorable but also infuriating.

Was he so damn forgettable? How did you manage to do such a number on him, so much so that you haunted his wet dreams, but you had completely forgotten about him and the whole encounter. Going about your merry life, your mind not plagued with such unprofessional and unethical thoughts.

He wanted to know you. To hear you ramble some more or be awkward. Literally anything but the cold shoulder you were giving him. So he did a bad thing. He called you out when you were clearly too busy ogling him. He revelled in the sick pleasure he got from embarrassing you.

“Why don’t we go talk in my office?” He suggested and collected his books without waiting for your answer. You both made your way over to his office, you following a few steps behind him. “After you.” He said as he held the door open for you.

He locked the little latch as he closed the door, instructing you to take a seat. He wasn’t sure why he had called you over. It wasn’t like he could actually act on his feelings. Or ask you if you remembered him at all. It would be out of the question. He would get fired from the university, his reputation would be tarnished.

He took a seat at his desk shuffling through the papers in his drawer and brought one out on the desk.

He felt his cock twitch in his pants as he took in your demure state. How you had made yourself so small across him. He decided then. He couldn’t possibly not do anything about his feelings. Once his mind was set on something he HAS to have it.

Every fibre of his being was screaming at him to simply bend you over the desk and take you in the most primal way possible. But he could wait. In just a few months you would graduate and he would ask you out. There was a possibility that you would turn him down. Again. But he’d take his chances and get what he wanted. He always did.

“Your grades aren’t doing so well Miss L/N” He said passing the paper over to you. “It’s a C. You barely passed. If you don’t get a B or up in your next exam you won’t pass my class.” As much as he loved seeing you everyday he needed you to graduate so he could have his way with you.

“Oh” You let out as you looked at the test.

“That’s all you have to say? What’s wrong? Do you not understand my teaching?” To which you shook your head no “Maybe you should focus on your studies before going to clubs and getting drunk.” He spit leaning back in his chair. He knew he was being harsh, but he also knew that you needed some tough love.

“I – clubs?” You looked up at him and frowned “I don’t go to clubs! How would you know anyway?”

“Oh so you don’t remember.” He sneered not taking too kindly to being forgotten so easily. “January’s last Thursday. You were wearing a pink dress.”

You looked as if you were in deep thought before your eyes widened almost popping out of their sockets. “Oh my god! You’re that business man!” You gasped.

“Listen closely. Because I won’t say it again. I’m not a business man. I’m a district attorney and your professor.” He said sternly as he threw his head back loosening his tie so frustrated with you. He’d have to be patient. Something he very obviously wasn’t. It’s alright. You were worth waiting for.

“Sorry” You mumbled half heartedly. You knew you remembered him from somewhere. You thought you had dreamt of meeting a handsome and charming business man. Apparently you were wrong. “Why am I here professor Barber?” You asked.

“I told you. You need to get your grades up.”

“Yeah but I’m sure many other students must’ve gotten a C or lower as well. Why are you so concerned with me? What’s so special about me?” You spit with an accusatory tone.

“I care about all my students.” It wasn’t a lie. He did. He just cared about you a little bit more.

“Uh – huh. Then why did you lock the door?”

“I didn’t want anyone to disturb us.” He cleared his throat as he sat up straight in his seat.

“Sure.” You rolled your eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“Why? What are you gonna do about it?” You asked before exaggeratedly rolling them again.

He scoffed “You’re such a brat.” He shook his head. “I’ll have you straightened up in less than a week when you’re mine.”

You hummed at that. “In your dreams old man.”

“You’ll see sweetheart. I just have to wait till June.”

“Well how about you can have a little taste now? I can give you something if you can change my grade.” You offered biting your lips again.

He groaned at the tempting offer and sight “There’s nothing you can give me that will change my mind.”

“Isn’t there?” You got up and walked around the desk to him, exaggeratedly swaying your hips.

He moved in his chair to look at you kneeling between his legs. Rubbing your hands on his thighs.

“I’m sure I can change your mind.” You said confidently as you undid his buckle and pulled down his zipper.

“I doubt it.” A thought of maybe stopping you as you took his hard cock out of his briefs came to him. But then you looked at his length with such awe, as if you were admiring it.

“You like it?” He smirked.

You could only nod your head and try your best to not drool. “It’s the most beautiful dick I’ve ever seen.” You admitted. It was also the biggest, his rosy mushroom head slippery with precum, couple of blue veins adorning his thick shaft. You could wait to suck the life out of him.

“How many dicks have you seen?” He frowned. He didn’t really liking you thinking about anyone else’s dick, not when his was right in front of you. “Never mind. Finish what you started.” His impatience took over him as he pushed your head down, forcing you to open your mouth and swallow him whole. He moaned at the feeling of your warm wet mouth wrapped around him. “Relax your throat.” He ordered as he pushed deeper into you.

Sighing deeply as his tip hit the back of your throat, groaning as you choked around him before swallowing. “That’s it good girl.” He praised caressing your jaw. Rubbing away the tears cascading down your cheeks.

He pulled some papers out of his bag as your raised your brows at him. “I need to get some work done sweetheart.” He shifted his hips to sit back on his chair. “How about you keep me warm till then?” He said as you whined “What? Do you have other plans?”

You shook your head as he muttered a “Good” And started going through his paperwork. “You can swallow honey. But that’s all you can do. Don’t you dare move.” He warned.

It was proving to be quiet a task. He couldn’t really focus on anything but your mouth and how he wanted to just fuck it and you stupid. But he was teaching you a lesson. He had to wait a while before he came down your throat. Besides this would give him an opportunity to really savor the feel of you.

You laid your head on his thigh as he flipped through his papers for the next half an hour. Suckling here and there to not mess up his pants. When you realised that he might be interested in you, even just a little. You hoped he would just take you, make your dreams come true. You had no idea what the fuck this shit about waiting was. But you were too afraid to say no to him.

He haphazardly put down his pen. Releasing a shaky breath he finally took hold of your head. Rolling his hips a little, he pulled his length out and pushed it back in. Setting a slow and steady pace, knowing that he’d come all too soon.

You moaned as his hand went down to cup your breast fondling it so gently. He lost it as he felt the little vibrations “Do it again” He demanded as you moaned around his length. He held onto the back of your throat driving his hips up a couple of times before spilling in your throat. “Swallow it all.” He ordered as he pulled out of your mouth with a loud ‘pop’.

He groaned as he as your throat swallow a gulp “Clean me up. I have to go to work.” He pushed his tip against your lips as your tongue peaked out and licked what you couldn’t swallow and your spit off of him. You gave his tip a last kiss before tucking him back in his pants.

You stood up on wobbly feet, straightening the wrinkles in your dress. You went over to your chair cleaning your mouth up with a hanky Professor offered. “So you’ll change my grade now?” You pushed your test towards him.

He laughed “We never agreed to that sweetheart.”

“But I – but we – but I just!”

He shushed you putting his papers back in his bag “That would be unethical. You’ll be coming to my house for lessons. We have to make sure you graduate. Are you free tonight?” He looked up as you nodded “Good. Then we’ll decide if you’re worthy of a reward.” He pulled his laptop bag over his shoulder as he walked towards the door, unlatching it and holding it open for you. “I’ll see you tonight sweetheart.”

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and feedback are appreciated! ❤❤

Beautiful dividers by @whimsicalrogers.

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

[sixth-light]

for everybody who was asking about Nicky’s PoV in Explaining Is Losing (set during the fourth chapter):

The first time Joe said “I love you,” to Nicky, Nicky knew he wasn’t really thinking about it. It was two weeks after Nicky had moved into his flat. Joe was on his way out the door to an early meeting he hadn’t been able to reschedule (Nicky had learned over the last few months that he was not an early riser) and he’d poked his head back in to ask, hastily, “Did we decide what we were doing about dinner?”

“I’ve got it, don’t worry,” Nicky said absently; he was sitting on the couch and reading a journal article, which was something he preferred to do at home, where – until recently – he could be guaranteed a lack of interruptions. “You’re cooking tomorrow, though.”

“You’re amazing, I love you, I have to run,” Joe said, and slammed the door. Nicky sat there frozen for five minutes, waiting for Joe to reappear. He didn’t.

*

If anybody had asked Nicky, which they had not, because Nicky had gone to quite extraordinary lengths to make sure nobody would ��� if anybody had asked Nicky how long he’d been in love with Joe, he wouldn’t have been able to tell them. It had, perhaps, been the day when Joe had come back to his office and dragged him back into the storage closet and got down on his knees and said I don’t like leaving things uneven, and Nicky had nearly spontaneously combusted on the spot. Or, no, that hadn’t been love. It had been nuclear-blast levels of lust, but not love. But certainly it had been there, in some degree, by the time Nicky had invited Joe over for dinner and Joe – instead of laughing, or awkwardly leaving – had sat down and eaten dinner and it had been…nice.

Nicky genuinely hadn’t really, really, been expecting that. His rivalry with Joe had been maintained largely because pride was his overwhelming sin (as his confessor knew all too well), and his personality included a level of sheer ingrained pettiness that had prevented him apologising to Joe even though it was deserved and, actually, was compounding the offense the longer he didn’t. There was also a kind of mean pleasure in it; Joe was fun to spar with, smart and witty and willing to be dragged down to Nicky’s level.

The fact that Joe was far and away the most attractive person Nicky had met in his life (and kind, and generous, and pleasant…to people who weren’t Nicky) had only somehow made it worse. After the incident – incidents – in the storage closet, Nicky had kept pushing because he knew that at some point, Joe would reject him, and then he could comfortably hate him for a reason that wasn’t entirely and unquestionably Nicky’s fault. That would be its own kind of terrible compensation.

Except he hadn’t, and he hadn’t, and Nicky had woken up the morning after that dinner with Joe wrapped around him, in Nicky’s very terrible and barely big enough bed, and known that he was in love and had no idea what to do about it. And now they were living together and he still had no idea what to do about it. Not because he thought Joe didn’t care about him; Joe just didn’t have the personality to use somebody like that. But because they had spent all this time not saying anything important to each other and Nicky didn’t know where to start. The very first thing he’d ever done with Joe was blow him in a storage closet on the very thin excuse of having lost a bet that Joe hadn’t even agreed to. He couldn’t just come out and declare his love now. Their affection for each other had always lived in the silences.

He gave up on reading the article because it wasn’t going to happen, and went to work, where he taught distractedly through two lectures, then sat through a committee meeting and contributed precisely nothing. This was still more useful than the very annoying (and badly-dressed) Vice-Chancellor who’d come to speak to them. At least he and Joe could be united in hating the administration (to be strictly separated from the administrative staff, who were the glue holding their departments together).

His oldest brother Franco called him at three o’clock. Franco felt the need to maintain a sort of patriarchal role in the family, which was funny because Nicky’s father was unfortunately still alive (he had been fifty when Nicky was born; he wasn’t young) and Franco was the only child who was still speaking to him. Giovanna hated their father because of his views on what women should do, Bernadetta was in the irredeemably queer basket with Nicky, and Marco had just enough family feeling to side with the majority of his siblings. Nicky tolerated Franco keeping up the tie because he knew it did come from a place of Franco caring for all of them, but knowing that anything and everything he said would eventually make it back to their father tended to temper how much he shared.

Franco told him all about what his children were doing before wanting to know what was new in Nicky’s life. Nicky did care about that, at least a little, as Giulia and Francesco were close to his own age and he had more or less grown up with them, but then on the other hand he also knew it all already because of Facebook.

“I moved,” Nicky said. “I’ll send you the new address. It’s not very far away, only a couple of streets.”

“Oh, why? Your flat was fine. Dark, but fine.”

Nicky thought about the disapproving curl of Franco’s mouth when Bernadetta had defiantly mentioned she wasn’t the only gay one in the family, more than a decade ago, and the way he never asked if Nicky was seeing anybody, and Joe saying You’re amazing, I love you, and thought: fuck it. “I’ve moved in with someone.”

Franco sounded startled. “Oh! Oh. Someone, like…I know rent in London is very high…”

“Someone I am in a relationship with,” Nicky said, feeling guilty because he didn’t know if that was what Joe would say, but it was true, wasn’t it? It was some kind of relationship. “A man. Since I know you’re wondering.”

“No, no, of course I know –” Franco made a impatient noise. “Don’t be difficult, Nico. Nobody is oppressing you. So tell me about him. How did you meet?”

“We work together. He teaches art history.”

He could hear Franco frowning. “Wasn’t there some art history professor you didn’t get on with –”

“Oh, no, that was someone totally different,” Nicky lied point-blank. “Joe and I have a lot in common.”

“Joe, huh. Is he English?” More frowning. “I suppose that’s not so bad…”

“Dutch,” Nicky said, and waited a beat. “But his family is from Tunisia. He’s Muslim.”

He clenched his left hand around his thumb, but all Franco said was “I would have thought you’d have enough trouble with the Church without that as well.”

“Well, I didn’t pick him out because he wouldn’t be trouble,” Nicky snapped, and had to reel it back. “You’d all like him. He’s one of the nicest people I know.” Joe would be, to Nicky’s family, he knew it. Even Franco, who did not at all deserve it.  

“It must be serious, if you’ve moved in with him,” Franco said, thoughtfully. “I know you wouldn’t do that if it wasn’t.”

“I – yes,” Nicky said, and felt like he was baring his soul and lying through his teeth at the exact same time; a very strange feeling. “Yes. Yes, it is.” Another breath. “It’s…it’s been about a year and a half.” At least if you counted from the storage closet; since he wasn’t giving any details, Nicky supposed he could do that.

“You should tell us these things, Nico!” Franco admonished him. “That’s forever! Giovanna got married in less time than that!” Nicky took the lecture quietly and made his excuses to end the call, heart pounding. He wasn’t sure why.

He took a breath, and dialed his mother’s number. He couldn’t let Franco tell her this.

*

Nicky had to chase Joe out of the kitchen when he got home. “Am I cooking, or not?”

“You’re cooking, and I won’t be in the way,” Joe said at once.

“Yes, you will. Go.”

“Why are you so mean to me?” Joe laughed.

“Because I love you enough to want to feed you something edible, which it won’t be if you keep distracting me. Out,” Nicky said, all in a rush. Joe laughed again and kissed him. He didn’t say anything. Nicky wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or not.

Late that night, after they’d turned the lights out, Joe sighed into the back of Nicky’s neck.

“What?” Nicky said.

“This evening,” Joe said. “In the kitchen. Did you say you loved me?”

“Does that sound like something I would say?” Nicky could feel the part of them that took over when they sparred doing the talking, and he hated it; why did he do this to himself? And to Joe.

“No,” Joe said, but gently. “No, of course not.” He kissed the back of Nicky’s neck, and said something Nicky couldn’t understand. It wasn’t even Arabic.

“I don’t know what that means,” Nicky said, wrapped up in Joe, dizzy with it.

“Yes you do,” Joe said, quiet, insistent. Nicky turned over in his arms, so he could lean their foreheads together.

“Yes I do,” he whispered. Joe held his hand in the quiet warm dark, and they breathed.

Nicky hadn’t expected it would be like this, being loved. His whole life was words; their whole dislike of each other had been words; and now, in this moment, he found he didn’t need them at all.

[writesowhatnext]

we’re only getting older, baby // george weasley

Summary: enemies // that’s how you and george weasley started out

Request: nee

A/N: this has been in my head a while and essentially it’s a 3-part enemies-to-lovers thing and I am excited about it!!!!! And also Y/L/N is your last name which I usually skirt around but couldn’t in this :)

Reader: female, Slytherin

Warnings: swearing, arguments

enemies // friends // lovers // epilogue

Almost immediately, you could tell there was something wrong with that bludger.

You were a beater, and a hell of a good one at that, and so you had a knack for knowing when a bludger was acting strange. It was your job, really, and you considered the one that seemed to have a death wish for Harry Potter definitely out of the ordinary. Until it broke off the end of Wood’s broomstick and sent him spiralling to the ground, you hadn’t even noticed it and whilst you had absolutely no love for the Gryffindor keeper, or Harry Potter for that matter, you knew that a bludger, especially a rogue one, could do a lot of damage.

Despite the inevitable grief you’d get from your teammates, it was obvious that Potter was probably quite important in the grand scheme of things in the wizarding world and it seemed that whilst you did really want to win the match, you were also pretty fond of being alive. And so, after a few moments of internal debate, you cursed under your breath and set off after Potter, your bat at the ready.

“Y/N Y/L/N, Slytherin beater, is… following Harry Potter?” Lee Jordan shouted over the speakers, garnering a healthy level of confusion from the crowd.

When the bludger came at him, certain to knock him off his broom if you did nothing, you huffed and adjusted the bat in your grip. With a grunt, you smacked it away, sending it spiralling across the other side of the field.

“What- what are you doing?” Potter stuttered; his eyes wide as he looked at you. They turned into saucers when he looked to your right and without thinking, you surged your broom forward and turned, the bludger striking your bat so hard the vibration reverberated right down your wrist.

“No need to thank me, Potter,” you said dryly, looking around for a blur of black in the sky. “Bludger’s enchanted; if you were smart, you’d get out of the sky.”

Out the corner of your eye, you saw Flint and Pucey sandwich one of the Gryffindor chasers, angling her into the Hufflepuff stand. You rolled your eyes at them, already vaguely irritated at the presence of your own morals, their cheating only adding further insult to injury. You couldn’t deny your annoyance that every Slytherin success was surmounted to pure cheating and they did nothing to help the case.

Turning around to reprimand Potter, you groaned when you saw him disappear into the stands followed by a flash of green and white. The bludger soared after both him and Malfoy and you ground your teeth together, reluctantly flying over.

“As Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy search for the snitch, they are followed into the stands by a bludger!” Lee Jordan’s voice rang out. “And Y/N Y/L/N?”

Loud, echoing boos filled the air as you grasped your broom, trying to listen to the sound of beams being broken by the weight of the iron ball. You rolled your eyes, barely stopping in time as the dark object whooshed in front of you, the force of it blowing a gust of wind through your quidditch robes.

As it curved in the air, preparing to circle back into the stands and no doubt maim Harry Potter, you prepared yourself. With your shoulders set back and palms gripping both your broom and bat tightly, you inhaled, watching it gather momentum. Absentmindedly, you contemplated how far Potter would fly if it hit him. Then, with a hefty swing, you sent the bludger over the top of the stands, so far that it disappeared for a few moments in the mist. The sound of your bat cracking down the middle was a horrible one, the wood pinching your palms as you grimaced. You slowied your broom down to a stop and hoped they’d give you a replacement. That is, if you were even allowed on the team anymore, after this stunt.

You only remembered why you’d cared so much about the bludger in the first place when both Potter and Malfoy rocketed out of the stands with their arms outstretched in efforts to reach the snitch you were far too far away to see. A chuckle left your lips as Malfoy hit the ground, rolling over twice before lying still, clutching his side. Potter, however, was a different story and when he tumbled to the ground, your mood soured as in his opened palm, was a shining golden glint that could only be the snitch. Applause and cheers rang out through the stadium along with Lee Jordan’s incessant shouting and you huffed, your shoulders sagging as you lowered your broom to the ground. You’d never hear the end of this, you thought crossly, knowing Flint would more than likely bar you from the team.

Strolling casually over, you didn’t even blink as the bludger soared back from where you’d hit it, never wavering from its desire to pulverise Potter. It exploded in the sky just above him as you dragged your broom across the field, only mildly interested in the swarms of people invading the pitch. You were halfway between Malfoy and Potter when you slowed to a halt, standing your broom up and watching carefully as crowds surrounded them both.

“Oi, Y/L/N!” Flint called; his anger palpable. You clicked your jaw and twisted your head to face him, clutching the handle of your broom tighter at the look on his face.

“What the bloody hell was that?”

“The bludger was-“

“I don’t give a shit! Why weren’t you paying attention to the game?”

“Me?” you said indignantly and probably far too loudly. “I was the only one that bloody noticed that bludger going after Potter.”

“That was fine by us,” he said, shrugging. “With Potter out the way, we’d win the match easily.”

“You’re such a fucking troll, Flint,” you snapped. He lunged at you, only for you to slam your hands into his chest, pushing him back.

“Don’t forget whose side you’re on, Y/L/N,” his breathing was ragged as he got close to your face. “Helping Potter’s done you no favours.”

“Helping?” someone called from behind you. “She wasn’t bloody helping anybody!”

You turned around to see the Gryffindor team collecting behind you, the Weasley twins looking decidedly angry as they glowered at you.

“She was firing bludgers at Harry the whole bloody game,” George said gruffly.

You grumbled, tilting your head to the side, already done with the whole debacle.

“He’s lucky he’s alive!” Fred added, scowling. “What, with her stalking him the whole time!”

“Oh really?” you asked, turning to the twins, the air turning tense. “Where were you idiots, then? He’s on your bloody team, isn’t he?”

“Hey!” George leant forward, his fist clenching at his side. “That’s not-“

“That was blatant cheating,” Wood interrupted, his voice stern.

“Remind me, Wood; isn’t hitting the bludger at the other team the beater’s job?” Flint asked, though judging by the dirty look he sent you, you were inclined to believe that his intention wasn’t to stick up for you.

“This is different, Flint. That bludger-“

“Was enchanted!” you said, throwing your arms up, only to catch the eye of George, who seemed more irked than ever.

“So that’s your excuse, is it? Bloody enchanted, eh?”

“Have you ever seen a bludger behave like that, you moron?” you countered, leaning closer to him, itching to just punch him in the jaw.

“Typical Slytherin,” he muttered, his red brows drawn together. “Cheats, the lot of you.”

You started forward, beyond prepared to start a fight when Professor McGonagall stepped between you, fixing her glare first on you before turning it to George.

“I think we have more pressing matters to deal with,” she said pointedly. “Don’t you?”

You stepped backwards, still simmering with anger as you looked at Weasley, who also appeared barely able to control himself.

“Like restoring Mr Potter’s bones, perhaps?” she stared icily at Wood for a moment. “Or maybe Mr Malfoy’s ribs?”

Her stare trailed back to you and her lips twitched and if it hadn’t been for Malfoy’s overly-dramatic groan, you thought she’d probably have never looked away. With a miffed huff, you turned on your heel and stormed off, muttering under your breath.

You didn’t see George Weasley again until Professor Lockhart’s stupid duelling club. You were peeved enough that you had to be taught by a glorified mannequin, but having to navigate around all the spiders that kept cropping up everywhere was slowly pushing you over the edge. George Weasley was just the icing on the cake.

“You know, Fred,” he started, a teasing grin on his lips. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Y/N was the Heir of Slytherin.”

You rolled your eyes, purposefully stepping backwards to grind your heel into his foot. You were rewarded with a little yelp, but you stiffened when you felt him come closer behind you.

“Careful, George,” Fred said, the smile in his voice evident. “You could get yourself petrified.”

You scoffed, turning around sharply, surprised to see George’s face so close to your own.

“Oh, yes, Weasley!” you whispered rather loudly. “You’ve cracked the bloody case; I just go around petrifying people for the fun of it! Brilliant detectives, you prats are.”

They mocked your words, wobbling their heads from side to side as you whipped back to face Lockhart, suitably aggravated as you crossed your arms over your chest. A Hufflepuff from one of the lower years turned around to shush you and in turn, received the full brunt of your anger as you tutted loudly.

“Oh, piss off, Finch-Fletchley.”

Your mood only soured further when George snorted behind you.

Why George Weasley pissed you off so much you couldn’t say. Your head-butting was indisputably his fault with his catty remarks and stupid pranks and all just because you were a Slytherin. It would’ve been a lie, though, to say that you didn’t return the favour. Justifiably, though, you thought. Ever since your first year, it had always been the same; you and Weasley at each other’s throats, somewhat enjoying having somebody to hate, somewhat enjoying the rush of arguing with someone. Thankfully, though, you didn’t have to think about him a lot; you were rarely in the same classes and when you could, you just ignored him for the sake of your own wellbeing.

When you saw Harry Potter and the youngest Weasley boy, Ron, in the corridor, though, spying on the teachers as they examined one of the messages that had been sprouting up all over the castle, you couldn’t help but think of George. His little sister was missing and despite every insult you’d thrown his way, you felt bad for him. You knew that you should’ve reported them for being in the corridors when they shouldn’t have been, but you watched Ron’s expression go from upset to desolate as his eyes settled on you and with a quick decision you hoped you wouldn’t regret, you turned away. They whispered to each other as you walked in the opposite direction, confused as to why you acted as if you hadn’t even seen them.

You did, in the end, regret your kind gesture, and any other you’d done in the past, when George stormed into Slytherin common room, barrelling past the charms and stopping short right in front of you, panting like a stampeding rhinoceros. You clenched your jaw, standing up so that you were chest to chest.

“Was it you?” he asked, cutting straight to the chase.

You narrowed your eyes, fully aware of the dozens of ears eavesdropping on your conversation.

“Was what me?” you said slowly, trying to contain your anger. He really didn’t have a clue, did he? He never did.

“Oh, you know what,” he spat, joined by his brother Fred. You rolled your eyes, knowing that if everyone wasn’t already staring at you, they sure were now. “My sister.”

You bit back every retort you wanted to spout and instead leant forward, poking at his chest with your finger.

“Weasley,” you said, your voice level, but rippling with barely concealed irritation. “I’m sorry about your sister.”

“Yeah, well, you would say that- what?” he stopped, visibly taken aback.

“I heard about your sister,” you said, dropping your hand and looking at his chest. “I’m sorry she was taken. I didn’t do it.”

Fred, along with the rest of the common room, watched your jaw clench before you exhaled. The toll attempting to be civil to George Weasley was taking on your composure was obvious.

George opened and closed his mouth like a fish and, had you seen, you would’ve mocked him, but you didn’t notice. Your just lifted your chin as you sat down, turning back to your book and pretending that you could concentrate on the words with your heart thumping so loudly in your ears. You didn’t look up until he fled the room, his twin hot on his tail.

After that altercation, you didn’t see much of the twins. The castle seemed to somehow go back to normal, the petrified students reanimated again and the blood washed off of the walls like it was never there. Potter smiled at you in the corridors sometimes as well and though you didn’t mean for it, he always noticed the slight curl of your lips in response.

That particular day, you were lurking near the doorway of the Great Hall, waiting for the house-elves to bring out food for you to take on the train home.

As you dug dirt out from under your fingernails, you watched Granger walk past looking a lot less lifeless than the last time you saw her. She stopped in front of you, her smile faltering slightly under your stare, your eyebrow raised in question.

“I see you’re up and moving again, Granger,” you said offhandedly, hoping she would actually do something other than stare. “Can I help you with something?”

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at you before she just shook her head, scuttling off to where Potter and Ron Weasley were sitting at the Gryffindor table. You rolled your eyes at her as someone clearing their throat next to you drew your attention. You grimaced at the sight of Fred and George.

“Uh,” George said, his face alone enough to flare your irritation. “Harry told me that the bludger at the start of the year was enchanted by a house-elf.”

You stared at him passively for as long as you could before your anger bubbled over.

“So, you blamed me for the work of a bloody house-elf? Oh, right, yes, cheers, George,” you said sharply, watching Fred scurry away, leaving you facing his brother alone.

“Well-“ George said indignantly before you cut him off, leaning closer.

“And let’s not forget that you also blamed me for what You-Know-Who did in the ‘chamber of secrets’-“

“Right, I’m trying to say sorry here,” he said plainly, scowling.

“You what?” you asked, rather breathless after your little rant.

“I’m trying to say that I’m sorry for being such a git,” he said, the air thick as he waited for any semblance of a reaction on your face. “And to say thanks, you know... for not telling on Harry and Ron.”

George expected many things when you opened your mouth then: shouting, insults, a punch perhaps, maybe even a hex. What he did not expect, was rationality and fairness.

“Alright,” you nodded, your expression still hard.

“Alright?”

“Yes, fine, I accept your apology.”

“What?” he said, the stupidly confused look on his face stoking your rage again.

“Are you thick? I said I’m accepting your apology.”

“I didn’t expect you to accept.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to calm yourself down.

“Well, you don’t know a lot about me, Weasley,” you said, your voice surprisingly soft and almost religiously guarded.

He relaxed a little, strangely curious all of a sudden.

“I suppose I don’t…” he said, a wary grin pulling at his cheeks. “Maybe we could be friends?”

In fairness, he’d said it more to judge your reaction than anything; to test the waters between you.

You stared at his outstretched hand with a deadpan look.

“Don’t push it.”

harry potter tag list:

@creator-appreciator​

@decadentwastelandtrash

@loveisblindness​

@xinyourdreamsx​

@brainlesspasta​

@hariosborn​

@staringmoony​

@rexorangecouny​

@alittletoomanyobsessions​

@peachesandpinks​

@yuptha-tsme​

@obsessedwithrandomthings​

@dreamer821​

@iprobablyshipit91​

@in-slytherin-we-trust​        

@haphazardhufflepuff​

@princesof-theuniverse​

@whovianayesha​

@ickle-ronniekins​ 

@harrysweasleys​ 

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Tracing Time

Monday, 15:18

Song: The Neighbourhood - Reflections

The clock at the front of the lecture hall is too far away for Sander to actually hear its ticking, but it feels like it’s louder than the tapping of his pen where he’s drumming it against his notebook. This is propped open with only a few lines of actual notes and a lot of doodles, with a quick, ragged sketch of Robbe on the bottom half of the page. Sander sighs quietly to himself as he fails his futile attempt to listen to the professor, and goes back to the drawing to add on some extra shading and more careful detail.

This is so much easier to get caught up in. Time disappears when it comes to art or Robbe, so combining the two is similar to falling into a black hole. The gravity of it is so strong, making it impossible for Sander to escape as time stops and everything else ceases to exist. He gets eaten up in it, lost until the point where everything whites out but the scratch of pen on paper and the familiar shape of Robbe’s eyes. There is no talking or ticking to make him want to peel his skin off (or at least fidget about in his chair).

It’s not the best plan, however, because he zones out a little too completely. He doesn’t realise that the class has ended until a girl clears her throat next to him, standing in the aisle and waiting to get past. Sander whips his gaze around and notices his other classmates already filing out of the room.

He flushes, muttering an apology as he quickly gets to his feet and presses back to let the girl and her friend slip past him. She glances down at his notebook as she passes and her lips quirk in a knowing smile, but she merely says, “Cute. Nice work on the lips.”

Sander’s blush deepens, but he returns her smile and manages to thank her quietly before she slips away. Her friend raises her brows and smirks at him, but doesn’t say anything as she follows. He lets out a breath and slumps back against his now folded-up chair, taking a moment to collect himself. He snatches up his bag and hastily stows away his belongings, only taking time to carefully close the notebook and tuck it in between the others in his bag. He trots down the steps and almost makes it to the door without any further embarrassment, and then the professor is calling his name.

Lars Coomans isn’t Sander’s favourite professor, only because he teaches art theory rather than anything practical. Sander doesn’t mind learning about history when he finds the subject interesting, but that only happens about twelve percent of the time. (Again, this isn’t Lars’ fault.) The man is not his favourite professor, but he might be one of his favourite people. He’s a tall man in his late forties with a tiny bald patch on the right side of his head and a soft voice. He’s relatively laid back and certainly kind.

For this reason, Sander doesn’t even feel the need to groan as he hangs back, even while the last stragglers shoot him curious looks on the way out. Lars waits until they’ve left to smile at Sander and lean back against his desk, head tilted as he considers his student.

Now, Sander begins to feel a bit nervous.

“How are you, Sander?”

The question is kind, careful, and it baffles him. He knows that all of his professors are aware of his illness, but none of them make a habit of checking up on him. They’re aware, from when he misses a week or two of classes or, on the rare occasion, needs to ask for an extension on an assignment. They’re aware, but beyond that, it doesn’t come up. No one makes a fuss about it and he’s grateful. And maybe Lars isn’t, either, maybe it’s just his kindness sprouting in the start of the conversation, nothing more than a mere courtesy. But the searching way he’s looking at Sander makes him hesitant, and he clasps his right hand around his left wrist and shifts on his feet before clearing his throat. He decides to take the casual route. “I’m fine, how are you?”

Lars seems to relax, lips quirking further for a moment before he shakes his head and waves a hand. “Oh, good, good, thank you. No, I’m not trying to be nosy, I just ask because you didn’t submit your assignment before noon today.”

Sander blinks. “Sorry?”

“The papers that were due this morning?” Lars blinks back, tilting his head. When Sander continues to stare at him blankly, he offers, “On the renaissance?”

Oh. Sander’s mouth opens and closes for a moment before he finds his voice. “But that’s not due until Friday evening?” It comes out as a question as his brow furrows in confusion. He’s sure the two assignments weren’t due in one day, and he frequently checks his calendar. He’s lost, and he’s beginning to panic slightly.

“No, it was due today,” Lars says softly, searching again as he crosses his legs at the ankles and taps the edge of his desk. “Daems has an assignment due on Friday, I believe, you have him, don’t you?”

Realisation hits abruptly. “Fuck,” he breathes, raising a hand to cover his face. “Shit, sorry. I don’t know—I must have mixed the dates, put the classes in wrong.” Stupid, stupid, stupid.

But Lars just nods, his whole posture softening in understanding. “Alright,” he sighs. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up, it’s an easy mistake. Can you get it to me by the end of the day?”

Sander swallows. “I haven’t started it,” he admits. He’d started doing the research, but he didn’t even have enough of that yet. He would be lucky to finish that by the end of the day, never mind the paper itself.

“Okay, well, you thought you had until Friday.” Lars rubs a hand over his chin and finally just shakes his head. “Alright. I’ll put you down for an extension until the time you thought it was due. And at least you don’t have the other one to worry about now, since I’m assuming that means you submitted it this morning.”

Relief flows through Sander in streams, but the banks are prickled. He purses his lips tightly and squeezes his wrist. “Lars, I just fucked up. I don’t have a good excuse, I don't want any pity.”

“No,” Lars immediately protests, pushing away from his desk to stand closer to Sander. “It’s nothing of the sort. No pity, or special treatment. You explained you made a mistake and I’ve no reason not to trust you.” He sighs, shaking his head. “You’re one of the best students here, Sander. I know because I pass that work of yours on the street every day. Even someone that good has to slip up sometimes, hm?”

Sander can only stare at him, feeling his cheeks warm again. He ducks his head, embarrassed at the compliment and the thought of his professor seeing the magnitude of his sappy love on a regular basis.

Lars only chuckles, bumping Sander’s shoulder. “I know I’m teasing, but I mean it. You’ve never even asked me for an extension before. I know you weren’t just slacking off. It feels bad, I know, but it’s not a big deal, kid. Just brush it off and then get it done, alright?”

Sander considers him. Then with a deep breath, he nods and murmurs, “Thank you.”

“Don’t stress.” Lars squeezes his shoulder, then waves him away. “Come find me or email me if you have any questions, okay? Now go on, no need to hang around an old man any longer.”

Sander huffs, but offers him one last nod and grateful smile before making his way out. As soon as he’s passed through the door, he falters in his step and his eyes close, anger towards himself returning with a vengeance. How could he have made such a stupid mistake? How has it taken this long for that to happen?

He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes for a moment, willing the frustration away. It doesn’t work entirely, but he manages a few slow breaths and collects himself enough to leave. He doesn’t think too much about where he’s going, just follows the feeling and lets his feet carry him to his bike, then pedal automatically through the streets.

The garage comes into view, and Sander tucks his bike away before rapping his knuckles against the door, not having to think about the familiar knock beyond muscle memory. His feet are tapping on the ground, and he does his best to shake the nerves out of his skin as he waits.

He’s not in full panic mode yet, not really. The only thoughts he can conjure are more swears and variations of stupid, stupid, stupid. He needs something distracting enough to quiet these rants down, but mindless enough that he can attempt to sort his thoughts out.

This is part of the reason he can’t go to Robbe, no matter how much he wants to. Robbe will be too kind. Too soothing. He’s the only one ever able to fully drown out Sander’s thoughts enough so that he stops being unkind to himself.

He doesn’t want that, at the moment. He thinks he deserves this more.

This being the frustration that leads him to bang the rhythmic code on the door once more when he doesn’t get an answer.

“Woah,” a familiar voice interrupts. “You’re not usually the kind who breaks in by knocking the place down.”

Sander turns slowly on his heel to face Adi. The man (as Sander considers him, because he is actually three years older and holds genuine wisdom on occasion) is staring him down in amusement. Quite literally staring down, as he has a good few inches on Sander, but he often leans back and slouches his shoulders to make up for it. He’s only about as tall as Jens, really, but he’s broader and looks overall bigger and more intimidating.

Robbe might be tiny next to him, and Sander might find it adorable, but Robbe is also completely unfazed because of long-time exposure to Jens.

Which is only mildly disappointing. (Robbe is extra adorable when he’s both dwarfed and flustered.)

“Sorry,” Sander says sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “I didn’t think that there might not be anyone here. I should’ve texted you first.”

Adi just huffs and moves to open the door, shaking his head fondly. “Yeah, that would’ve been easier on your hands.” His own light-brown hand is slender and quick as he unlocks the door, movements as automatically familiar as Sander’s when he’s drawing.

They don’t speak even as they make it inside. Adi traipses around quietly to turn on lights and check up on everything, weaving between trucks, and Sander moves through to the back of the room to the piece he’s been working on. He throws his bag down and immediately crouches to examine his paint cans, eyes flickering between them and his work as he debates where to pick up again. Adi joins him after a moment, but still hangs back, leaning against the wall behind Sander silently.

Sander thinks this is probably why Adi might actually be his best friend, because he has known Adi even longer than his group from the Academy and Adi understands him just as well as Lucas.

“I fucked up,” Sander says eventually, so quietly he’s unsure if Adi hears him over the spray of the can. He’s ready to repeat himself in the responding silence, but then Adi is standing at his side.

Adi tilts his head. “Not with Robbe.”

“No,” Sander agrees, and finds some relief in it. At least it isn’t Robbe.

“Another friend?”

“School.”

“Oh. Bad?”

Sander lets his hand fall to his side and sighs. Adi is calm and curious but not comforting, nothing more than a steady presence next to him. It allows Sander to reorder his thoughts into something he can actually articulate. “No, it’s not even a problem, really. I just made a mistake and it’s pissing me off.”

“But it’s not a disaster?” Adi tilts his head further.

“Probably not.” When Adi only continues to stand and look, he heaves another sigh. “I mixed up the dates for two assignments and submitted the wrong one today, meaning I missed the actual deadline for the other. But he’s just giving me that time as an extension, because apparently I’m a good student. Can you fucking believe that?”

Adi’s lips finally quirk, his amusement returning at Sander’s incredulous, exasperated exclamation. “No, I can’t, actually. But then again you’re kinda art obsessed, so maybe.”

This time Sander blows out a breath that can’t really be considered a sigh, with the farting noise that accidentally accompanies it. He wipes a hand over his mouth as if it will erase the sound while Adi barks a laugh.

“So you’re just pissed because your brain did you dirty,” Adi summarises.

Sander grimaces, but nods. “And wondering how it’s taken this long for me to fuck up like that.”

“Maybe because you’re not a fuck-up.” Adi raises a brow pointedly, but Sander simply waves him off. The sentiment is kind, but it doesn’t change the fact that he fucked up. Then Adi adds, “And anyone can get their wires crossed like that. You’re not that unique.”

It draws a snort out of Sander against his will. It doesn’t matter that he knows what Adi is really trying to say, hears the reassurance and reminder tucked within the words; the blatant dry tone it comes out in startles him enough to set it off. Adi’s forming grin doesn’t match it and makes it easier for Sander to see through him, but he’ll let him away with it this once.

He knocks his paint can against Adi’s shoulder. “Thanks.” It’s much more clearly genuine than Adi had been, and more than Sander expected himself to give, but he does feel better and he appreciates it. It doesn’t matter that ‘thanks’ is as difficult as ‘sorry’; that just means Adi will know he means it.

Sander is sure of it when Adi simply nods in response, turning to examine Sander’s artwork rather than put pressure on him to figure out his expression. He watches on as Sander gets back to work, and eventually shifts to lean back against the wall. “Things are good with Robbe, then?”

“Yeah, always.” Sander smiles, unbidden, at the simple mention. He doesn’t feel the need to be embarrassed about it, even when Adi huffs.

“It’s your birthday tomorrow,” he notes, and Sander pauses. “Any special plans?”

Sander stays still for a moment, and then shrugs, putting his arm into motion again. He hasn’t thought about it. He might have been avoiding thinking about it. “Unless it’s a surprise. I know I’ll see Robbe, but that’s it. I do that everyday.”

“You not hanging out with all of them? What about Gilles and his gang, and Lucas and whoever?”

Sander’s mouth twitches, but he quickly schools it away. “I’ll see the guys at uni and maybe Lucas if we go to the flat or I pick Robbe up at school.”

He can just see Adi in his peripheral, and catches his thoughtful nod and careful bite of the lip. “Right, right. You ever planning on bringing him here again?”

“Robbe?” Sander asks, just to be a little shit.

“Fuck, no. I love him, I do, but he’s hardly an artist. Nah, Lucas.”

Sander brings Lucas at least twice a month, and Adi knows it. “They’re all busy with school. Final year and all that.”

“Yeah, but he’s applying to the Academy right? So, technically, this is like studying.”

“Do you want to see Lucas again, Adi?” Sander asks, mustering as much mock-astonishment into his tone as he can.

He receives a scoff for his efforts. “You know it’s not like that, you fucking asshole.”

“Good, because you know, he has a boyfriend, Adi.”

“Who happens to be Robbe’s best friend and your kind-of friend, yeah, yeah, I know. I also happen to be straight, dickhead.” He cocks his head at Sander and his lips slip into a smirk. “While you also have a boyfriend, and you’re whipped as hell for him, and yet look who you still came running to to kiss your boo-boos.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Sander says this time, tossing the now-empty spray can at him. Adi dodges with a startled noise followed by his low, booming laughter, and Sander just shakes his head and marvels at his quiet mind.

~^~

previous/next

[freddie-weaselbee]

A Whole New World//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst to fluff, symptoms of depression, mentions of depression, minor character death (only mentioned), language, honestly it’s really cute once you get into it trust me

Summary: “Do you trust me?” After constantly pestering Y/N and finally making her explode with anger, Fred decides to try to make her smile again, in the most extravagant way possible. 

Word Count: 4.4k

Song: A Whole New World from Aladdin

A/N: Apparently I’m a sucker for the astronomy tower I didn’t even realize until I wrote this that it takes place in the same place as my last fic, but oh well. Also I would literally sell my soul to be able to reenact this with someone, preferably Fred. Also also I’m making a taglist so message me if you wanna be on it!

The astronomy tower was one of your favorite places to visit when you were upset. Something about the way the infinite number of stars continued to shine down made you feel more at peace. It made you believe that maybe there was a plan for everything, and it would all work out eventually. 

It wasn’t uncommon for you to spend most of your recent nights watching the sky glimmer with specks of light. The past few months had been hard on you, and you felt an increasing need to escape as much as you could. Your friends noticed, but they didn’t know how to help. You were usually so upbeat and happy, always helping others rather than being vulnerable enough to admit that you needed some help yourself. Which is why you would spend hours each night, alone with your thoughts and dejection. 

Tears rolled down your eyes as the events of the day came back to you. 

It took everything you had just to get out of bed. Your dorm mate had tried to wake you up several times, but she eventually gave up and allowed you to rest a little longer. You rolled onto your side and stared at a picture that was hanging on the wall. It was a family picture from years ago, when you were just a little gap toothed girl. Your mom was holding you in her arms and your dad had his arm wrapped around your mom’s shoulder. There was only one other person in the picture, but it hurt your heart too much to look at the old man smiling down at little you. 

After letting a few tears lose, you decided to start your day a couple hours late. You had a Potions exam that you needed to do well on, or else your dreams of becoming a Healer would be a lot harder to achieve. 

You rolled out of bed and put on your uniform followed by fixing your hair and putting on some light makeup. You used to put a decent amount of effort into how you looked, wanting to practice your eyeliner skills and try out new hairstyles. But recently it just seemed like too much work for no reward. The bags under your eyes remained visible as you walked to your Potions class. 

The day didn’t get better. 

You skipped lunch and decided to take a nap instead. You curled up in your bed and shut your eyes tight, trying to calm the anxiety that was racing through your body. Your mind began to wander and you started wondering what your friends were doing at the moment, and if you were missing out on something fun. You wanted to join them and be a part of whatever was happening, but you just didn’t have the energy to get out of bed. It wasn’t until you were forced to get up for your next class that you left the silence of your room. 

Transfiguration was a class you had with most of your friends, which made it difficult for you to avoid questioning. 

“Y/N, where were you during lunch today?” your friend asked. She seemed concerned, but didn’t know what to say to the sulking mess who was usually so lively and energetic. 

You shrugged and gave a forced smile. “Just tired, didn’t get much sleep last night.”

She nodded, not believing you but figuring that you weren’t going to tell her the truth any time soon. 

You turned your attention to McGonagall’s lecture, but you were distracted almost immediately with a balled up piece of paper that landed on your lap. You looked around the room before making eye contact with Fred Weasley, who gestured for you to open the note. 

You did and scoffed at the message scrawled in messy handwriting. 

‘Hey love, you’re looking a little glum today. How about spending the night in my dorm and we’ll see if I can make you feel better? ;)’

Normally you would’ve playfully flirted back with the ginger troublemaker, but you weren’t in the mood today. You hadn’t been in the mood in months. 

Shaking your head you crumpled up the paper and let it fall to the ground. It wasn’t long before another one landed on your desk. 

You rolled your eyes and you opened this one. 

‘C’mon, don’t be so grumpy. You know you want me.’

This letter you ripped up, letting the scraps dramatically spill all around you. If there was one thing Fred wasn’t good at, it was reading the room. You just wanted to focus on the lesson and spend the rest of your night alone in your dorm. 

A third letter hit you in the back of your head. You almost turned around and screamed at Fred, but instead you picked up the note and sat in on your desk. You didn’t want to give Fred the satisfaction of opening the letter, but your curiosity got the best of you. And of course with your luck it all blew up in your face. Literally. 

A small explosion came from the letter the second you opened to read it, painting your face a scorched black and singeing the ends of your hair. You didn’t even have time to react before you were being yelled at by your favorite teacher. 

“Miss Y/L/N!” McGonagall was glaring at you down the bridge of her nose, giving you a look that she only reserved for the worst troublemakers. It made you feel like shit. “Detention, tomorrow night for disrupting my lesson. Please keep your antics to yourself next time.”

“But professor--” She interrupted you by putting her hand up. 

“Don’t argue, Miss Y/L/N. Tomorrow night.” 

Your face fell and you buried your head in your hands, trying to hold back sobs that were rising in your throat. As class ended you gathered your things and practically sprinted out of the room, ignoring the cries from your friend. 

You didn’t get too far before you were spun around by large hands that gripped your shoulders. Fred was towering over you, a proud grin spreading across his face as if he had just won the lottery. 

“You should’ve seen your face, darling, absolutely priceless.”

He reluctantly let go of you as you struggled in his hold, avoiding eye contact with the boy. “I don’t want to talk to you right now Fred, I just want to go to my room.”

“You’re in your room all the time!” he exclaimed. He wasn’t wrong. “Just lighten up a little and take a joke.”

You sighed and began to walk back to your dorm, ignoring his complaints. 

“C’mon, Y/N, who died and made you all depressed?”

That was it. 

You spun around and came storming back toward Fred, who now looked as though he regretted ever saying anything. “Do you really want to know Fred? Do you really feel the need to relentlessly bother me when it’s painfully obvious that I don’t want to talk to you?”

You had backed him into a wall and he was holding his hands up in defense. 

“Today has been awful. I could barely get out of bed this morning, and the only reason I did was because I had a Potions test, which I likely failed! I have no motivation to do anything, which means I go to my room and miss out on everything fun, which only makes me more upset.”

Tears were streaming down your face as you screamed at Fred, all of your pent up anger finally coming out. 

“And not that it’s any of your business, Frederick--” you poked his chest as you said his full name, something you only did when you were mad at him, “--but my grandpa died and made me all depressed. Three weeks ago. And I’ve felt like absolute shit ever since. So please, for the love of Godric just leave me alone for two fucking minutes!”

Fred’s face was adorned with a shocked expression, which softened immediately. You hadn’t told anyone about your grandpa, not wanting to deal with pitiful glances being thrown your way. Fred had no idea that you were going through so much, and seeing you finally break because of him broke his heart. 

But you didn’t give him any time to respond before you turned on your heel and marched back to your room, feeling worse than you had ever felt in your life. 

You knew it wasn’t Fred’s fault. You had chosen not to tell anyone about what you were going through, and you assumed he was only trying to lighten your spirits. However with everything that had been going on you needed some time to think and deal with your emotions on your own. It was the only way you knew how. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by someone behind you clearing their throat. You turned your head to see the outline of a tall ginger boy, standing at the top of the astronomy tower stairs. 

“What do you want Fred?” Your voice cracked as you spoke and you quickly turned to stare at the sky again, hoping your friend wouldn’t be able to see how upset you were. 

When you didn’t hear a response you spared another glance behind you, but Fred was gone. You stood up and looked around. Surely he wouldn’t just appear out of nowhere and then disappear seconds later. You leaned against the railing of the tower, the only thing separating you from the endless night sky. 

A scream erupted from your throat as something rose up to face you, hovering in the air. Fred was standing eye level with you, but he was...floating? 

“How are you…”

You looked over the edge and gasped at the sight before you. Fred was standing on a large carpet that he must’ve snagged from the Gryffindor common room. From the looks of it, it had been enchanted to fly and it was doing a fine job of fulfilling its duties. 

Fred laughed at your surprised expression as he reached a hand out. You stepped back, still wanting to be alone for the time being. But maybe you had been alone for long enough. 

“What is this Fred? What’s going on?” 

He didn’t respond, but rather moved closer and stretched his hand out a little farther. “Do you trust me?”

The whole scene reminded you of your favorite movie, which had just come out last year. You remembered watching Aladdin with your grandpa, memorizing every song and occasionally singing or humming the lyrics once you returned to Hogwarts. There was no way Fred’s actions were coincidental, he had to have planned this. 

No matter how upset you were, you weren’t going to give up the chance to reenact one of your favorite movie scenes, so with hesitation you grabbed his hand and wobbled onto the magic carpet that was hovering hundreds of feet in the air. 

“You ready, love?” Fred’s voice was calm and soothing, so unlike his normal persona. You gave him a tiny smile and nodded, holding onto the tassels of the rug for dear life.

Fred nodded back and scooted closer to you. “Hold on tight princess.” You grabbed his right arm and squeezed, letting him know you were ready to go.

With a flick of his wand the carpet took off and you were suddenly flying through the cool night air at racing speeds. You’d ridden on a broom before but this was something completely different. This time didn’t have to worry about working your core to stay on or try to ignore the uncomfortable position you were in. With this, you could just breathe and take in the moment. 

Fred looked over at you and grinned as he saw your amazed face. You closed your eyes and put your hands out, letting yourself be overcome with the feeling of soaring through the air. Without warning the carpet jerked to one side, causing you to scream and grip back onto Fred’s arm. 

“What was that for?” you exclaimed. He laughed and tried to pry your arms off of him, choosing to wrap his arm around your shoulder instead. 

“Just wanted to make sure you were paying attention. Now are you ready?”

You looked at him quizzically, wondering what else he could have in store for you. Fred cleared his throat and you saw a small blush appear on his face. He took in a deep breath and did something you never expected Fred Weasley to do. 

He started singing. 

“I can show you the world, shining shimmering--why are you laughing at me?!” You were bent over into his chest, heaving with laughter at his display. It’s not that he was a bad singer, on the contrary in fact. But you had definitely not expected him to start singing A Whole New World while you were flying across the Hogwarts grounds on a literal magic carpet. 

“I’m--I’m s-sorry Freddie,” you choked out through laughs, “it’s v-very nice. Fantastic job!”

He could hear the sarcasm dripping from your voice and he put on a faux glare. “Y/N, I did not listen to you sing this bloody song every single day and memorize all of the words simply from paying attention to your voice for you to not be my Jasmine and sing back.” He crossed his arms and huffed and your giggles slowly died down. 

You felt a blush appear on your face as you realized how much effort he had put into this. Memorizing the entire song from only your humming and occasional lyrics? The least you could do was humor the boy. 

“Fine,” you said playfully, rolling your eyes, “go ahead again. I promise I won’t laugh.”

He gave you an unbelieving look. 

“I promise I won’t laugh a lot.”

Fred nodded and cleared his throat once again. “I can show you the world, shining shimmering splendid!”

He cupped your chin in his hand and gave you a wink. “Tell me princess, now when did you last let your heart decide.”

The carpet dipped and you screamed as the two of you soared downwards before leveling out again. 

“I can open your eyes,” he began once again. “Take you wonder by wonder. Over, sideways and under--” as he sang each word the carpet twisted to perform the respective move, “on a magic carpet ride. A whole new world!”

He sat on his knees and spread his arms to the sky, screaming the lyrics and letting the wind whip his ginger hair around his face. Although you were speeding through the clouds and any wrong move would likely end in you falling to your death, all you could focus on was him. 

“A new fantastic point of view. No one to tell us no, or where to go, or say we’re only dreaming…” Fred was looking back at you, holding his hands in yours. He leaned in to you and you sucked in a breath, leaning toward him as well. But what you had been assuming would happen did not, and Fred leaned in to whisper in your ear. 

“That’s your cue, love.” It took you a second to realize what he was saying but when you did you nodded fervently, hoping Fred didn’t notice you mistaking his actions for an attempt at a kiss. Before you could overthink everything and make it even more awkward you sat up and belted out your lines. 

“A whole new world! A dazzling place I never knew.” You moved toward the front of the carpet and Fred grabbed your waist holding you up as you spread your arms and stared at the endless sky. “But when I’m way up here, it’s crystal clear, that now I’m in a whole new world…”

You hesitated before saying the next two words, suddenly very aware of the tight grip Fred’s rough hands had on your waist. “With you…”

You turned your head to see Fred beaming at you, and he moved you back so the two of you were once again sitting side by side. You sang the next verse as the two of you flew over the Forbidden Forest. The terrifying collection of dark trees and plants now seemed so small, so miniscule when you were soaring over it instead of walking through it. 

It was almost time for the duet portion of the song, but before you could start you were cut off by Fred’s finger on your lips. “Alright, love, now we switch. I want to be Jasmine!”

You giggled at the child that was Fred Weasley, but it was his kiddish behavior that always drew you to him. “Well you have the body for it,” you teased, poking his stomach. He poked you back and it made you flinch, seeing as how he hit a ticklish spot. His eyes widened when he realized the opportunity he had, and his fingers attacked your sides while both of you tried to sing your new parts. 

“A whole new world--”

“Don’t you dare close your eyes.” He covered his eyes as you sang this for effect and you had to use all of your strength to remove his hands from his face, which ended with you intertwining your fingers in his. 

“A hundred thousand things to see--”

“Hold your breath it gets better.”

Fred finally halted his tickling as he belted his next line straight into your ear. “I’m like a shooting star, I’ve come so far, I can’t go back to where I used to be…”

You threw your legs over his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close as the two of you giggled like schoolchildren. Something about laughing with Fred always made you feel carefree and young. Like you didn’t constantly have the entire world dragging you down. It was intoxicating. 

You ruffled his hair and screamed the lyrics at the top of your lungs. “A whole new world!”

Fred saw this as a competition, and he decided he just had to one up you in noise. “Every turn a surprise!”

“With new horizons to pursue!”

“Every moment red letter!”

At this point both of you were shouting as loud as you possibly could, so loud that you knew at least someone on the Hogwarts grounds would be able to hear you, but neither of you cared. He took his other hand in yours as you screeched the next words simultaneously. 

“I’ll chase them everywhere, there’s time to spare, let me share this whole new world with you!” Fred steered the carpet downwards to a grove that you had never noticed before. He swept through the trees and swiftly grabbed an apple from a tree above before tossing it to you. It was something straight out of the movie and you had to wonder how in the world he had this so well prepared. 

He pulled you in tighter by the waist and started to sing again, transitioning back to Aladdin’s part. His voice was much softer than it had been before, almost sweet and loving. “A whole new world…”

You lowered your voice to match his. “A whole new world…”

“That’s where we’ll be…”

“That’s where we’ll be…” You could tell that Fred was maneuvering the two of you back toward the grand Hogwarts castle but you didn’t want this moment to end so soon. 

His thumb brushed your cheek. “A thrilling chase…”

Your hand moved to his chest, feeling his toned muscles underneath his infamous Weasley jumper. “A wondrous place…”

“For you and me…”

You stared into each other’s eyes, holding each other tightly and letting out the breath you didn’t know you had been holding as you finally finished the song. Neither of you said a word as Fred guided the carpet back to the astronomy tower and helped you down onto the floor. You slipped and fell into his chest, but he was quick to steady you and hold you tight in his arms. 

Your eyes wandered up the tall redhead’s body, illuminated by the dim glow of the night stars. “What...what in the world was that?” you asked incredulously. 

Fred only laughed and pulled you to sit down next to him, legs dangling off the side of the tower. “I guess that was my way of apologizing.”

“Not even an actual ‘I’m sorry’ is good enough for you Weasley?” you teased, making Fred give you a guilty look. 

“I am really sorry, Y/N. I...I had no idea what was happening, and I was just getting tired of not seeing you ever. I guess I thought you were avoiding me and I wanted to get your attention, even if that meant being a complete arse.” His guilty look only grew as he confessed the reasoning behind his actions. “I’m really sorry, love. But I want you to know that I’m always here for you. You don’t have to go through things alone.”

You sighed heavily and leaned your head against his shoulder. His arm found its familiar place around your shoulder and you shuffled so that you were closer to him. 

“It’s not your fault. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about it. I don’t want people to pity me, or to think that I should try to get over it. I don’t want everyone to say that I should stop feeling like this when there are so many people that have it so much worse.” Your voice shook with every word that poured out of your mouth. You had never told anyone that before, always keeping your burdens to yourself and burying them deep inside. 

Fred grabbed your shoulder with his other hand and brought you into a hug, letting you sob quietly into his chest. “Darling, you should never feel as though your feelings aren’t valid. You have every right to be upset, and I want to be there for you, if you’ll let me.” 

You hummed into his jumper, taking in the scent of cinnamon and gunpowder. It had grown to become one of your favorite smells. “You know, that movie was one of my grandpa’s favorites.”

Fred nodded but stayed quiet, trying to hide his joy that you were finally opening up to someone. 

“We watched it nonstop last summer. He told me he loved princess Jasmine. Said she had spunk, just like--” your voice hitched in your throat, “--just like me.”

Your best friend began stroking your hair softly, occasionally twirling a strand in his long fingers. “I didn’t know,” he finally said. “I just knew you loved the movie, and I wanted to do something special for you. You deserve it.”

You gave a small laugh at his words and he tilted your chin up so that you could see the concern in his eyes. “Hey, I’m serious. I love you, Y/N. You’re...you’re a great friend.”

The warm feeling inside your chest that had begun when Fred started talking had suddenly died down. You were friends. Just a great friend of his. 

“I don’t know Freddie,” you teased, “the way you were singing to me out there made it seem like I was a little more than a friend to you.” 

You were only joking, but Fred was immediately silent, turning to stare down at his hands. “I, uh, I may have gotten a little bit caught up in the moment,” he stuttered. His nervousness caught you off guard, as it was so unlike the confident prankster to be so tense. 

“So you really memorized that song, recreated specific scenes from the movie, and took time to enchant a magic carpet to fly me across the skyline, just to make me feel better?”

He chuckled nervously, slightly embarrassed about all of the effort he put in. “When have I been known to be simple with these kinds of things, love?”

“Never,” you scoffed. Feeling a bit of a courage course through your veins you reached to grab his hand, intertwining it with yours. Fred squeezed your hand back and you moved to give him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re the sweetest person I know, Freddie. You may be a little dumb and over the top sometimes, but you’re sweet.”

Fred smiled down at you and opened his mouth to say something, but apparently decided against it last minute. You decided to give this one more chance. 

“Fred? Can I...can I kiss you?”

The words were barely out of your mouth when his lips gently touched yours, drawing you into the softest kiss you could imagine. Your lips moved in sync, slowly at first but quickly picking up a little speed. After what felt like an eternity you had to come up to catch your breath, tugging on his bottom lip as you moved away. 

The two of you just stared at each other before you let out a small giggle. “Oi!” Fred exclaimed. “You think snogging me is funny? Wow, I think I’ll have to take those privileges away from you, you selfish girl.”

“Oh no, don’t deprive me of that Weasley, I couldn’t live without you.” He shoved your arm playfully and you spoke again. “I just think it’s funny that it took me cursing you out after class and an extravagant musical number for you to finally kiss me. And even then I had to initiate it! For a Gryffindor you really are a chicken sometimes.”

He responded by pressing his lips to yours again, this time in a shorter but just as passionate kiss. “I was getting around to it, I just didn’t want to take advantage of you in such a vulnerable state,” he said as his excuse. 

“Well I can tell you now, love,” you said, “this has nothing to do with my ‘vulnerable state.’ I’ve been in love with you forever, I was just too scared to say anything.”

“Ah, so you’re the real chicken then.” 

You relented, not wanting this perfect moment to turn into another argument between you and the twin. “Yeah, I’m the chicken, and you can be the prince that swoops in and steals the chicken away on a magic carpet.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Only if the chicken turns into my beautiful princess by the end. Y/N, will you be my princess?”

You bit your lip trying to hold back a scream of pure happiness. Something you hadn’t felt in months. “Of course Freddie, I’m yours.”

[ssa-daddyhotchner]

The Struggle of Loving You - Chapter 16

Chapter Selection

Anthony and Andrew were over my apartment, hanging out. Chloe was with them out in the hallway while I was in my room. It had been almost a week since I had seen Aaron and I was just missing him.

"Y/n! Come here", I heard Anthony call from down the hallway.

I groaned rolling out of bed standing up. I was in shorts and a tank top, I opened the door and dragged myself down the hallway. They were all gathered on the couch with a drink in their hand. All of them holding in a laugh, "You okay?"

I sighed before sitting down with them, "Sure." Chloe Anthony leaned over and handed me a glass of wine, I grinned. "Alright tell us what's wrong." I didn't answer.

Andrew thought it was funny to poke at my leg to make me talk, "Just tell us."

"Fine", I said, swatting his hand away, a grin spread across his face. "You miss him don't you", Chloe had a smug look.

"Wai- wait... you have a 'him'-- who." Andrew said, neither him or Anthony knew that I was spending time with Aaron.

"Her boyfriend... Hotchner", Chloe teased. I took a sip of my drink and leaned on my arm. "He's not my boyfriend, we're just friends." I lied through my teeth. Anthony went on about me having sex finally. I have never told him that I was a virgin before but he knew me too well that he just knew.

"Fuck you, leave me be", they all took a drink. I swung my legs onto the couch. "Now, why would we do that. We love you too much to leave you alone." I hummed in response.

All in unison they teased, "We love you." I stayed silent, never saying that to anyone and really meaning it. It's not that I didn't but I'd never admit it to them... or really anyone.

There was a knock at the door, "Mind getting that." Chloe said, gesturing to the door. "Of course, Miss."

I got up and walked over to the door, looking through the peephole. Opening the door, I walked out and shut it behind me.

His arms were wide open and a smile spread across his face, stepping towards him and hopping into his arms. His arms went around me, supporting me while my legs hugged his torso.

My hands cupped his face and I crashed my lips to his. He warmed mine, and we moved against each other like not a day has passed. I pulled back and looked at him running my thumb across his bottom lip, "I missed you."

"I know", he leaned in and kissed me again, softly biting my bottom lip. Not being eager, just the both of us taking our time being together. What I didn't know was that all of them were crowded around the peep hole, looking at the whole interaction.  

Not weirded out, but happy for the both of us. They knew what he'd been through and knew that I wouldn't fuck with him; that we were good for each other. Anthony and Andrew continued watching us and Chloe had to drag them away from the door.

"Fucking weirdos", she said laughing. They went and sat back on the couch preparing for what they were going to say if Aaron and I walked inside.

"When did you get back?", he gently pressed me against the wall of the hallway.

"Early this morning."

"Why didn't you tell me", I brought my hand up and ran it through his hair while cupping his face. "I wanted to surprise you", there was a grin on his face. I wanted to spend time with him, to just be for a while.

"Good thing it's a Saturday, we have a few days before class", he stepped back and set me down. My feet coming in contact with the cold floor. I grabbed onto his hand, bringing him into the apartment; not caring anymore.

"Oh yeah, what did you have planned?", we walked through the door. "You'll see", I gave him a smug smile and we sat on the couch. I didn't want them to be in the apartment when we fuck. We had to wait for them to leave.

They stared at us, waiting for something. They didn't know how to act, the things they tried to prepare for weren't as easy as they thought. Never thinking they were going to hang out with a college professor, specifically mine.

Taking the hint Anthony tapped Andrew's shoulder, "Alright uh-- I think it's time for us to go." Chloe followed behind them, awkwardly walking through the door. Leaving Aaron and I alone, "If you're wondering, they're not going to say anything."

He let out a sigh of relief, "Good to know."

"But do you really talk about that", I shook my head and he grabbed my hips, positioning me on his lap. Our lips connected like magnets, we took our time. My hands going under his shirt, feeling his toned muscles along his body.

He shuttered and smiled into the kiss, taking in my quiet moans. I could feel him hardening underneath me, slowly grinding on him. I heard him groan into the kiss. Sinking to my knees in front of him, I unbuckled his belt.

He lifted his hips and I pulled off his pants. Revealing his bugle pressed against the fabric. I pulled his boxers down enough to take him out. I never really saw it before and from a different angle, I was feeling slightly intimidated because I had never done this before.

I looked up at him and he gazed down at me. He gently grabbed my hand and guided me to his cock, I pumped him and subtle moans fell from his mouth. I went closer and I swiped along his tip, he bucked his hips forwards.

I wrapped my mouth around him, tracing patterns with my tongue on his cock. His hand made its way into my hair tightening his grip. He didn't force me down but guided me. Letting me go at my own pace, I glanced up at him, his head rested against the couch but his eyes were open and he was watching me.

"You're doing so well for me", I moaned shifting and squeezing my thighs together trying to get some friction. Some satisfaction for the arousal pooling in between my legs. Bobbing my head back down I came back up and licked a stripe underneath his shaft.

I went back down flattening my tongue, I stroked what I couldn't fit. He thrusted upwards into my mouth hitting the back of my throat, I moaned around him. The vibration bringing him closer to his orgasm, I felt him tense up, "Fuck--."

I knew what was coming and I was preparing for it, bucking his hip for a last time I felt as his cum slid into my mouth and down my throat. I kept bobbing my head until he pulled me up back into his lap. Tugging my head backwards he made me look at him, "Such a good girl for me."

I waited for him to make another move, he looked like he was deciding what to do with me.

Moving my head to the side he lined kisses on my jaw and neck, slowly making his way down my body to my chest.

I moved my hands and pulled at the hem of my shirt pulling it over my head.

I was left in my bra and shorts, he undid my bra and took it off, tossing it on the couch. Going back to cupping my breast, putting one nipple into his mouth. Sucking gently and softly biting, I tossed my head back, "Fuck."

Continuing down he shifted and laid me down on my back, kissing down my stomach. My breathing hitched when he reached the waistband of my underwear. He looked up at me, "Tell me what you want."

"Please don't make me say it, you know what I want."

"I need you to tell me or I stay down here teasing you for hours'', his voice got darker. He wanted my permission, which is something I greatly appreciated. "Touch me, fuck me, I don't care at this point-- just do anything please."

He took his time taking off my underwear and sliding down my legs. He came back up and placed kisses on my inner thigh, Taking his thumb and dragging it along my stomach. He brought it to my clit. I grinded against his fingers , being eager for more.

He dipped his head down and I took in a deep breath. Aaron grabs my hips, gently kissing my clit I let out a gasp. I could feel the breath from his chuckle on my pussy. He finally connected with me, his tongue  massaging me.

I took my hand and moved it into his hair, twisting and pulling at it while he ate me out. I felt the tips of his fingers tease and entrance and I shifted my hips down trying to get him to take the hint. I knew he wanted me to wait, plunging his middle finger into me, he rubbed along my walls.

I clenched around him, arching my back I moved his hand and pressed my stomach down. I felt my high coming, my chest got tight and my breath faulted.

He pulled away and stood on his knees, I earned forwards and took off his shirt. "You've been good for me. I'm not going to fuck you here." He tugged at my hips bringing me to him and he picked me up. Carrying me to my room and tossing me onto the bed.

Pulling my feet, getting me closer to him. Aaron got on the bed and lined himself up. Wasting no time he thrusted forwards. Catching me off guard, I clung to his body. Holding his shoulder as he fucked me up the bed.

Steading himself, putting one hand behind my head and the other on my hip. I matched his thrusts, pushing my body downwards to meet him halfway. I was already close before and now it was building quickly again.

My walls pulsed around him, giving Aaron a sense of euphoria. Bending down and leaving kisses behind my ear, releasing a low groan.

"I missed the feeling of you around me so much." My hand going behind his neck, I gripped the hair and moved his head to the side.

He hissed through his teeth and let out a gasp. I littered kisses to his neck, "Fuck y/n." From just penetration alone I was already reaching my orgasm. Tightening around him, I let out a moan and whimper.

He never let up with his pace and kept going. "You can do another one for me", immediately after another one started to build. I wrapped my legs around him, he went in deeper than before. "Aaron please."

His hand traveled down my stomach and to my clit matching his pace. My edge washed over me, my entire body felt like pins and needles. "Y/n", Aaron groaned out.

I cupped his face and kissed his and I felt his body tense up, he pounded into me until he couldn't anymore. His cum spilling into me, he relaxed and laid down next to me. Both of us taking the time to calm down.

I got up and went to the bathroom. I was finished, I went back into the room and laid down. Not caring about the mess we made.

Fatigue struck me and I quietly drifted off. Aaron was still awake and when he noticed I was sleeping he smiled and stood up.

Going to the bathroom and getting a washcloth to clean between my legs. He pressed a kiss to my forehead and laid down behind me, holding me until he fell asleep too.

[baecvlt]

Better Late than Never

in which the reader was set up on a blind date by Sonia Nevermind with Kazuichi Soda

• Kazuichi Soda x Reader

• fluff

• fem reader

• original idea <33

BTW YALL this might sound accidentally self insert-ish but that’s because I gave the character interests (since this is a date fic) but I dont know anything else to put for them. anyway enjoy still.

“So, there’s no one there?”

I glared at her, death staring into her clear, blue eyes. “What the fuck is ‘there’?”. She sighed and lightly hit my arm. “I’m asking you if you have a crush, silly!,” she spat, yet her tone remained friendly. I shook my head. “I don’t find any of these people attractive, Sonia”.

“So you wouldn’t go out witj a classmate?”

“No, Sonia”

She stays silent, suddenly darting her eyes at Hajime. “How about him,” she asked,“Hagime seems like a nice guy”. I shrugged. “Not my cup of tea, really”. She then points at Teruteru,“And him?”. I looked at Teruteru, who was already gawking me. “God, no, Sonia,” I gagged,“Too perverted for my liking”. She then began listing names. Here is what I had to say for all of them.

Hajime: Boring

Nekomaru: LOUD

Fuyuhiko: Mean and short

Nagito: Psycho!

Eventually, she gave up. I didnt feel any way of them, who’s to know how I feel about anyone else at this school? “Fine,” she said, but her eyes lit up,“Oo! How about-”.

“Oof!”

He had bumped into me, knowing me to the floor. Kazuichi Soda: the Ultimate Mechanic. “Yeah, him!,” Sonia said. I looked at Kazuichi, disgust on my face. “Not in a million years”. “Huh?” (Kazuichi was madly confused). Sonia grumbled,“What’s wrong with him?”.

“What isn’t there wrong with him? He also doesn’t bathe!”

“Ouch, I bathe,” he said. “Why were you in such a rush anyway?,” I asked. He shrugged, but eventually sighed and revealed his reason. “I got excited,” he said softly. Sonia and I were confused.

“I just got updated on my— something. I’m going to the office to see what they have to tell me about this thing I’m in the middle of”

I was confused, but I had to know now. “Anyway, I’m sorry,” he said, walking right past us. I stood there, but Sonia got my attention. “Come on, we’re gonna be late to Economics”. She grabbed my arm and pulled me to class. When we got there, everybody was huddled up. There was something they were being discreet about. “Hello, friends,” Sonia said,“What are we talking about?”. “Kazuichi,” Ibuki said without the slightest hesitation.

Okay, maybe not that discreet.

“What’s wrong with him?,” I asked,“Besides all that, I mean”. “Cut him some slack,” Hajime said, now I knew the situation was a little more sensitive than I thought. Sonia and I both got our chair to listen. Hajime sighed,“This morning, I woke up and went to get Kazuichi for class. He wasn’t in his room. Later that day, I went go check on him and he was in his room, but when I opened the door, his eyes were just read and tired. I asked him is all was well, he only nodded and smiled. It took a while, but he still told me he was okay, now adding in the detail that the board had gotten back to him on his request to be transferred elsewhere”. My mouth dropped slightly. “Transferred where?,” I asked, Hajime only shrugged.

“This is all Sonia’s fault!”

We looked at Hioyoko, Sonia quick in defending herself. “He wouldn’t transfer schools because of me, it’s probably all your fault,” she was defensive,“Maybe if you weren’t so mean to him all the time—”. Suddenly, arguing broke out. I heard many things. Hajime said he hasn’t shown interest in her lately, Sonia seeming slightly offended. Gundham was blamed, Ibuki wasn’t being blamed (she was never cold with him). Suddenly, Mikan spoke out. “Wait!”. She yelled, so we were quiet. Surprised by her tone, it made us all shut up. “What if it’s all our faults?,” she suggested,“Y-You didn’t have to be cold to him. Who else besides Ibuki or Hajime spoke to him without immediately judging character?”. It made me think, but suddenly Fuyuhiko spoke. “Fuck that!,” he said,“The dude probably wasn’t enough to be here so they dropped him. He was also probably too embarrassed to say that. And the eyes? Please! They were red because he might be some type of pothead; high out of his mind!”. “That’s a really shitty thing to say,” Hiyoko said,“Even *I* know that’s harsh”.

“I don’t give a fuck; Its true”

Hajime shook his head,“I’m gonna agree with Mikan”. “Wait isn’t it like extremely hard to transfer from this school?”. “No, not quite,” Chiaki said,“When given valid reason, the board can transfer a student elsewhere”. “If in fact the mistreatment of Kazuichi was the reason he sought transfer,” Peko added,“He probably went with ‘mental health concerns’. Since we’re all of age, he wouldn’t need to run it by a parent or guardian, making it much easier for him to transfer”. There was silence. “So what now?,” I ask. Hajime had a quick answer,“We treat him better”. “Is it not too late?”. Peko shook her head.

“If Kazuichi really went to simply be spoken about the appeal, students are given three days to make their final decision. Afterwards, there is no going back since students are allowed an appeal once”

We all still sat there. Were some of us actually cold towards him? I mean, everyone else in the academy didn’t even acknowledge him (neither did some of us, but we were around more, right?). “Alright, studebts, to your seats now!”. The professor being there had us scurrying away from Hajime’s desk. Throughout the whole class, I couldn’t focus. I kept thinking of Kazuichi, but why? Why did I care about him leaving so much?

The bell rang, Sonia waited for me. Econimics was our last class every Thrusday. The minute I was within her reach, she continued the conversation from earlier today. “So, I was thinking: you can’t talk to boys for shit,” she said. “And?”.

“What if I set you up on a blind. date.— huh? How about that?”

I sneered. Blind dates—they were such a tacky idea to me, what the fuck, but this was Sonia. She always new what was best for me when it came to, well, everything. Plus, it might be fun, or funny?

“Oh, what the hell. I’ll give it a try”

Sonia smiled so hard, her eyes shut. She squealed. “I cant wait,” she said,“I promise, this’ll be good for you. Just you wait!”. She kissed me on the cheek, leaving me behind. “Wait— we aren’t going home together?,” I asked. She shook her head. “I have some things to take care of! See you tomorrow, love”. She hurries her way. That girl. I’ll never understand her…

“Hey, how’s it going? … Nice … Well, now that you ask, I was wondering if you were open to a blind date? … Splendid! Friday, agree to meet with this girl, here’s her number … Let’s make things more interesting … Don’t tell her your name … Yes, you do know her”

I got home, setting my book bag down and practically collapsing onto my mattress. What a day. Before I got in thought about all that I was told today, as if on cue, my phone rang. It was a message, one from a number I had never seen before.

???: Hi :)

I was friendly, I didn’t have to be.

Me: Hello :)

As if a second cue went off, Sonia texts me.

Sonia: Has your blind date messaged you? btw make up a name! dont reveal anything !

Me: OH okok

I return back to the unknown sender.

Me: sonia put you up to this ?

???: yes, ma’am (or sir, or i have no clue. sonia said you were a girl. sorry)

Me: hey dont worry, sonia said she was setting me up with a guy, so i assumed too. i am a girl and being called ma’am doesn’t bother me.

???: well you assumed correctly, but thank you for letting me know, ma’am i get unsure.

???: anyway, what’s ur name?

I thought of a good, normal name, but nothing occurred to me. I looked all around my room for an object. Suddenly, my eyes landed on the family camera I had left in my room whenI used it for a project.

Me: my name is cam, hbu

???: Zero

Me: Is that really your name?

Zero: no but it makes sense to me

Me: wdym?

Zero: itd just me i guess

Me: ur gonna make me sad booo

Zero: oops, sorry !

Me: lol Its fine. but seriously, I know there is someone who cares about you. if anything Is wrong. you can talk to me, even if our date friday goes to shit :)

Zero: Yeahyesh thanks for that, Cam. its just my friends, i dont feel seen by them and it just feels like my parents have followed me.

Me: Well, they probably really love you. if it helps, I care about you :))

Zero: you’re very kind

Me: aw noooo. anyway, how was your day?

Zero: it coulda been better. yours?

Me: yeaaaa same here

Zero: what’s wrong?

Me: found something out ab a friend of mine.

Zero: is everything okay?

Me: Yea it all should be if I can fix things with him

Zero: you must really care ab him

Me: yea i really do

“Zero” decided it’d be best to change the subject since he figured it was slightly depressive (which it was). From the time I got home (4am) to 12am, we talked. I was excited because for once in my life, I was speaking to someone who liked the things I did. The same movies, the same bands. He listened to a lot of new wave and indie rock. Eventually, I got sleepy, so we called it a night. He called me cute and let me go to bed.

I actually looked forward to our date Friday. I didn’t care who he was, for he was perfect.

Morning came around and I just wanted to talk to him. In fact that’s all I did. We texted in homeroom, Theater, Calculus, etc. It was Friday today, meaning we’d have to meet today after school, thus revealing ourselves. Sonia and I were in calculus and she noticed I wouldn’t put my phone down. “God, someone’s obsessed,” she teased. “He means everything to me,” I said, breaking no eye contact with my screen. Sonia went to Kazuichi, who I have class with for Calculus, Government and Chem (which we both failed last year). I couldn’t care to break my focus on my screen, but I did head him mutter “she’s perfect”. So Kazuichi found someone else? That’s fine, but will she care enough to stop him from transferring? Could be be transferring for her?!

As the day grew the situation began getting fucking dire.

I was headed to my final class, chemistry. I had my phone in hand, texting away and very distracted. Suddenly, just like yesterday: “Oof!”. I was on the floor and above me? Kazuichi Soda. “I’m sorry, oh my god,” he said as he helped me up. I shook my head. “Nono, this time it’s my fault,” I said, dusting myself off,“I wasn’t paying attention”. 

“I was also very distracted, heh”

I smiled, picking his phone up from the ground. His screen turned on, exposing that he had been listening to music. “Cocteau Twins”. I handed him his phone. “You like them,” I asked. He nodded,“Do you?”. 

“Yeah, I do”

“Cool... where are you headed?”

“Chem”

“Why so early? There’s a whole hour and a half till we have to be there, plus the 5 minute tardy bell”

“I like being early. Where were you going?”

“My room,” he said,“I can’t find my chemistry journal, so I figured I should look for it before class”. “In your room?”. He nodded. For some sick and weird reason, I felt bad leaving him to do that on his own. “I can help you,” I blurted, almost instantly. His face lit up. “Really?!”. His overly joyed expression brought a smile out in me as well. “Yeah,” I answered softly. He grabbed my hand and ran with me up to his room, having me keep up with him. We got to his room as my heels skid slightly behind him. When opened the door and turned on the light, my jaw dropped.

His room was a complete and utter mess.

“Kazu- how is anything gonna get found in here?,” I asked, trying to keep my tone as calm as possible. “Its manageable,” he answered, entering and starting to look through all his junk,“I haven’t had the energy to clean my room anyway. It hasn’t really bothered me”. I shook my head as I walked in. “No, this isn’t right,” I said, an idea coming to mind,“Why don’t you lay there and rest up a little? I’ll clean your room”. His eyes lit up. “Really?”. I nodded, a warm smile creeping up on my lips. “Well, okay,” he answered,“Thank you, sweetheart”. I couldn’t even react to the pet name. His hat rested over his eyes as he quite literally fell asleep before my very eyes. 

With that, I got to work.

Cleaning out his room, taught me a few things. He also happens to like the same films as I do, but he likes more action films. I also learned he has a much bigger wardrobe than I thought. Lastly, he isn’t as mess as I thought. He had everything one would need to clean, even owned a vacuum. It took me about 1 hour and 5 minutes to clean out. I hadn’t realized it was that long, time went by me like a breeze. I approached him and sat by him. In a pattern, I shook him carefully then played with his hot pink hair, which was softer than expected. 

God, there’s something wrong with me. 

He woke up and I removed the hat from over his eyes. He lay as he looked around, seeing his room uncluttered. “Wow, it’s like a brand new room,” he said happily. “Yep”. He sat up and smiled back at me. “Thank you,” he repeated. 

“It’s nothing, really”

His voice was still groggy, I could tell he was a little dazed after his nap. He lay back and laughed to himself as we sat on his bed. “What?”. He shook his head as the lazy smile on his face grew slightly wider. “You’re really pretty”. I blushed a little, and laughed nervously. “Thanks”. He sat back up again, we both had no idea what to do now, but look at each other. It was a comfortable silence. I could forever into his oddly colored eyes. 

I wanted him to kiss me, now.

I’ve truly lost my mind. I had no idea if it was just tension or anything but that. Would I like it or would I despise it. I decided to maybe test these waters, but before I could, he beat me to it. Out of nowhere, he grabbed my chin, pulling me to his lips. Kissing me skillfully, he lay back and I followed so I wouldn’t be away from him, leaving me straddling his lap. What a day to forget to wear shorts under my skirt. With how he kiss me and I kissed him, it was no secret we wanted this for a while now. The fact that I wanted this made my stomach knot. We pulled away, slightly winded. “That was so fucking hot”. I proceeded to tell him this never happened. He agreed it didn’t. Then he added:

“I’ve never done that before”

“Neither have I-”

Then, it hit me. Kazuichi was my first kiss.

“This must be a very shitty realization,” he said, laughing a little. “Shut up, let’s get to class”. He nodded, getting up from bed, seeing that his journal was on his now clean and visible desk. He picked it up and now we were ready to go. We were still early, despite distance and how crowded the halls were. We sat at our own table, usually we both sat alone since none of our friends had this class. We all knew each other, but we wouldn’t exactly call certain people friends. Anyway, during class, I was extremely bothered. I felt sick and I couldn’t stop thinking about that fucking kiss.

At all.

I really didn’t want him to leave. I couldn’t stand the thought of him leaving. I had to stop it, but why did I want to anyway. Is this pity? It didn’t feel like it; I can tell when I pity someone and this didn’t feel like pity. Could it be that he’s always been there?

I’ve never fallen in love before, nor caught feelings. Something about him felt so familiar. What has Kazuichi done for me?

I began to think and it all came to me. The times I had no one else to talk to so he’d be there, whenever someone has bailed on me I’d go to him. I’ve taken him for granted, yet he’s smiled through it all. To think I’d hurt him made me feel worse. “God, I hate this class,” he whispered to me. I broke away from my thought. “Oh, me too,” I answered,“How are you doing, though?”. 

“In this class?”

I nodded. “Terrible”.

I mouthed an “oh”. After a second, I offered a solution. “Well, you can always ask me for help,” I said. “Seriously?,” his eyes lit up like when we were in his room. God his crooked, toothy smile had me smiling, it was intoxicating. “Yeah, come to me anytime,” I said, getting quiet. This was quite awful. On top of that, I remembered I had a date after today. I didn’t even want whoever the fuck I had to meet with. As planned by Sonia, we were to meet at the bridge in between dorms on the third floor at 7pm (mind you, I don’t have a room in this school so there really is no reason for me to stay so late). Now that I think about it, it really sounds like more of a meetup than a date. Maybe it wasn’t so important for me to meet this mystery man. I can just text him I was no longer interested.

And that’s what I chose to do.

After class, I bumped into Sonia. She smiled widely when she saw me. “Oh my god, Are you excited for tonight?!”. Here I am, bursting her bubble.

“No”

Her smile went down slowly. “Why not?,” she asked. “I’m not going”.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU AREN’T GOING?”

That was probably the loudest she’s ever spoken. “I mean, I don’t want to”. “But this was important, what the fuck,” she seemed too upset about it. “I don’t want him,” I said,“I’m into someone else”. “WHO?”. I swallowed before the name came out of my mouth,“Kazuichi...”.She slapped her hand over her mouth. “I know its emba-”.

“THAT’S NOT WHAT I’M GONNA SAY, oh my god. You have to go still, don’t leave your blind date hanging, please. I’m begging you, please!”

I scoffed.

I nodded. “Fine, but I really cannot pretend to have a good time,” I said to her. Nodding frantically, she said she knows. Ultimately, it was my choice and she knew that. Sonia walked home with me, then said she would walk back with me when it came time to meet my blind date. She wanted be there for when he was revealed. I got a message from this man when I got home.

Zero: Hey, are you sure you want to meet?

  I raised a brow and showed Sonia. She covered her mouth, but quickly told me to say yes. So that’s exactly what I did. 

Me: Yeah

Zero: ok

  “He isn’t into it,” I said, showing Sonia the messages. “He will be”. Damn, she was so dead set on this and for what? “Come on,” she said,“We should get going”. I nodded, getting up from the floor we sat on in my room. Locking up, we swiftly headed to the bridge.

It was dark by the time we got there.

“Hello?”

No answer. “Maybe wait a little,” Sonia suggested,“He gets shy”. I turned to her. “Do you know him?,” I asked. “Of course I do”. She must’ve misunderstood what I asked. “No, but do you know him know him,” I cleared up,“like is he close to any of us”. She nodded, now I was really curious. A couple minutes passed and he still wasn’t there. “See,” I said,“Fucking no-show!”. My hands clenched into a fist. Sonia was getting closer to me, looking as if she had some consoling words to say, but she stopped. Smiling, she backed away. Then, I heard footsteps behind me. She stepped away from me, nodding towards me, but that was just a signal for me to turn around. I heard a gasp,“You?”. 

The familiarity of the voice—it all made sense now.

“You!,” I cried. My eyes watered as a smiling Kazuichi stood in front of me. I hugged him and I could tell he wasn’t expecting me. “God, I thought you’d hate me,” he sighed, relieved. I shook my head. “I’ll leave you to it,” Sonia said,“I have to go anyway; my ride’s here”. We waved her off, getting back to each other. “Wanna head into my room?”.

We headed into his room, snuck in, I’m not supposed to be here. He threw himself onto his bed as his hands made a gesture for me to get on. I straddled him like before and kissed him. “Someone’s excited,” he teased. I scoffed. “I’m not the only one”. His face turned red as he looked away. “Hey, Kazuichi? Can we talk”. He nodded, waiting for me to introduce the topic. 

“Hajime and, well, everyone else including Sonia and myself were talking and—”

“Yeah?”

“That you’re leaving?”

“Oh... yeah. I am”

I frowned, getting off him, now sitting next to him. He looked upset now that he remembered. “It isn’t too late now, is it?”. He shook his read putting his hat on his bedside drawer (me thinks this is the first time I’ve seen him without a hat). “Tomorrow, I go confirm my decision,” he said,“I feel... miserable in Hope Peak. I don’t belong here”.

“Kazu...”

“You don’t know what it feels like not having anything in common with anyone. Everyone being so fucking distant”

“I do know how the first one feels, but... we have each other to relate to”

“I just hate how this school makes me feel and I want it to go away”

He shivered as his eyes began to water. It hurt so much to see him cry. I never have. “Baby, look at me,” I said to him,“We all love you, okay? I love you. I’m sorry for being so cold towards you this whole time. You were always there”. He stuck his head into my chest and just let everything go. I played with his hair as he got rid of emotion. I lay his head down and straddled him again. Quickly, I kissed all over his tear-stained face, the taste of salt persistent on my lips. The kisses got him riled up and giggly once again, making him tackle me. I fell back on the bed as he did the same to me. He smooched me on the lips before giving me his final word.

“I’ll think about it, okay?”

I nodded, not pressuring him. I wanted him to be so sure about staying. I also wanted him to know that if he did stay, I would be there, always. “You need a ride home?”, he asked. I could have gone home, but I didn’t necessarily want to. “Aw, don’t you want me to stay?,” I pouted. The way I said it was so playful it almost felt like teasing. He blushed frantically answering,“Yeah, I do”. I then realized I didn’t have clothes to sleep in.

And no, sleeping in underwear could never be an option. (Not yet, at least)

“Damnit, I don’t have clothes”. That’s when he opened his drawer and threw some sweatpants at me. “You have a shirt under that one, correct?,” he asked. I nodded, unbuttoning my school shirt. it was a silk black undershirt, could be used as an undergarment or sleepwear. “Hey, I’m just gonna go out to the communal to wash up, okay?”.

“That’s fine, baby”

He smiled, heading off with his toothbrush and towel. Once the door shut, I with a I slid off my socks. I then stood up and took off my skirt. The clothing fit me kind of snug, but I didn’t mind. I lay back and waited for him patiently.

His shower was quick, well, in my opinion it was. His hair gave off a brisk scent, as he lay next to me. His eyes looked weak as he hug his face into my chest. It wasn’t in a weird way or anything, so I simply assumed he was tired. “Are you sleepy, yet?”. He nodded, his face in deeper. “I’m really sleepy,” he said softly. I ran my fingers through his hair like before and let him sleep. Watching how at ease he was in my embrace soothed me to rest. According to Hajime, he was usually a light sleeper. The slightest touch or noise would wake him up. He would shift around or mumble in his sleep. This time, it was different.

It was peaceful.

The next morning, I woke up and put on yesterday’s clothes. When I got to putting on my shoes, I felt him move behind me. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” I said sweetly. “Good morning, angel,” he said, his voice straining as he stretched with a grunt,“Time?”. 

“9:30”

He got up and threw on a pair of clothes that I have never seen him in. “You want a ride home?,” he asked,“I meet with the board today at 10. If I take you home now, I can make it back in good time”. I nodded, going hand in hand with him after he had put his shoes on.

I never knew Kazuichi drove. I recall him say he had terrible motion sickness, yet here he was driving me home in a borrowed car that had been worked on in the school’s auto shop class. I had nothing else to talk about and the silence was killing me. “So you can drive?”.

“I can drive”

“What about your motion sickness?”

He clicked his tongue. “Yeah, that’s always been there, always will be,” he began to explain,“but I’ve learned to ignore it”. He put his arm around me, smiling. I smiled, yet I was terrified. What if I wasn’t enough to make him stay? As he drove, I noticed he had nothing in mind. With Kazuichi, you can always tell when there’s something on his mind. Always. He’ll squint, mouth some words to himself...that’s how you know. It began to overwhelm me and I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry knowing there was possibly nothing I can say or do for him to stay. He may know I love him, but what if the timing was off?

Oh, well.

We arrived at my home, him walking me up to my doorstep. He kissed me, his smile dropping afterward. Fuck, he must’ve noticed... “Hey, is everything okay?”. I nodded. “Okay,” he said, uncertainty in his tone,“Well, text me if anything!”. I nodded, a faint smile on my face. I headed inside and lay in bed.

My memory of that Saturday and the Sunday that followed are fogged. I don’t remember leaving my room, let alone my house. Monday came around. I was nervous. I walked down the halls, Sonia standing and an expression of worry spread across her face. “Sonia,” I said,“What’s wrong?”. She gulped and I knew nothing positive would come out of this.

“Hajime hasn’t seen Kazuichi all day”

My eyes widened and I wanted to pass out. “No, that can’t be!”. I didn’t want to feel this. It was all guilt. Why, though? Everything seemed fine when we had last seen each other, it made no sense. “You haven’t talked to him?,” she asked. I shook my head. Sonia sighed. “Okay,” she began,“We have government today. Your only class with him. All we have to do is wait and then we’ll know for sure”. I nodded, trying not to let emotions get to me.

Now in government, I waited, We all did. None of us had heard a word from him. Soon enough, an hour passed: no Kazuichi. Tearful, my eyes shut as I placed my head on my table. Hajime walked up to me. “If its in any consolation at all,” he began,“Kazuichi really did like you. He loved you. I’m sure he knew you loved him”.

“Why the fuck do you make it sound like he’s dead?”

“I see how it would sound like so. I’m just gonna leave my words at that”

My eyes were burning and a headache began growing. Suddenly, there was pounding on thr door, pounding that startled the class. The teacher sighed. The knock was that of a late student, which obviously would’ve annoyed her considering this is a 65 minute class and it had been an hour or so. A student volunteered for the door and there stepped in a distressed Kazuichi.

“WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T YOU TEXT ME?!?”

I sniffled and my heart was beating out of my chest when I heard his voice and saw his face. “Kazuichi?!”. I ran up to him and hugged him, he was tense. “I was so worried,” he said. “That makes two of us”. I kissed him, he asked if I was okay and I nodded so frantically. “I didn’t text because I was sad!”. He hugged me tighter, kissing my forehead. I looked into his eyes, falling in love. Then I had realized one thing. “Wait”. He looked at me,“What’s up?”.

“WHY ARE YOU SO LATE?!”

“I HAD AN EYE EXAM!”

He walked to the teacher and handed her a doctor’s note. “You know I can’t mark you present right?,” she said. “You can’t mark me absent either, miss”. Yeah, he wasn’t the best student here. He walked back up to me and kissed me. “There’s like 2 minutes left,” he said,“Can we leave?”.

“Just go”

Being a nuisance paid off as we were all let out early. He grabbed my book bag and ran with me, pulling me by the hand. He took me to the back of the school, yeah, the very back behind the gym. I sat in his lap as he kissed me once more harder, now that no one was watching. I then faced him. “I thought you were leaving,” I whined. He ran his hands through my hair. “I was going to,” he said,“but I couldn’t do that to you, or to myself”. We sat in silence till I said,“Who would’ve thought?”.

“Yeah, in a million years, huh? What year we in?”

“Shut up”

I kissed him and felt him smile against my lips. “Don’t change, Kazuichi”. “Don’t plan on it,” he said,“I love you”. “I love you too”.

[twoidiotwriters1]

June, 1976 (WITT One-Shot)

A/N: If you want to remain in the taglist pls interact with this one-shot even if you haven’t read book 4-5 yet. A like or a comment is fine, the people who don’t want to continue reading obvsly do not interact and I’ll delete from the taglist :) -Danny

Words: 2,590

Series’ Masterlist

Emily was tired, but she'd spent all day overthinking and she was done, it was time to grow up.

She could hear Lily Evans' voice ushering Severus Snape away, he'd been coming around for several hours during the day trying to apologize, but he'd finally crossed a line.

"It's not your fault, you know?"

Matthew's voice caught her attention, he'd stopped at the foot of the stairs, one hand propped on the wall.

"Snape and Evans have been fighting for months now, I think it's because of what he's been doing with the Slytherins... you know, the cult stuff."

Emily averted her gaze to the fireplace.

"I know..."

Matthew hesitated, he'd promised himself that he wouldn't go back to being Emily's therapist, but something was different this time, it wasn't her usual kind of sulking.

"Are you okay?"

She looked at him over her shoulder and frowned.

"I'm not the one who got called 'mudblood' by a close friend."

"No, you weren't," He admitted. "Which is why it's so strange to see you all sad."

"I'm not sad."

"Is this about James?"

He didn't want to know, but alas, he'd asked.

"No," She made a face. "I don't think I care about him that way anymore."

"It's easier said than done," Matthew crossed his arms, his shoulder now leaning on the archway of the stairs.

"What do you want, Ruddy?" Emily groaned.

"I don't want anything from you," The boy replied. "But I have the feeling that you need to talk."

"I do," She said. "Not with you, though."

Matt nodded, he sighed.

"Good luck, then, have a good night."

"'Night."

Emily watched him disappear up the stairs, she didn't know why, but the memory of his burning gaze before he kissed her came back then, his intense determination as he held her closer... That moment Emily had found herself unable to move away, to say no. She wished she had his courage to just do stuff even when he was intimidated by them, she needed that kind of bravery tonight.

Lily Evans entered the tower two minutes later, Emily stood up abruptly and the redhead came to a halt.

For a moment none of them spoke, then Lily's face showed tons of fatigue.

"What now? Is it your turn to call me a stuck-up bore because I didn't agree to go out with Potter?"

Emily shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Can we talk?" She asked shyly. "I promise it's not a trick... I'm sorry."

Emily's behaviour towards her was usually hostile, tonight her voice was gentle, and even a little afraid.

"You're sorry?"

"I don't expect you to believe me," Emily continued, lowering her gaze. "I know you and Snape were close — I don't understand how can you like him... listen I suck at apologies, can't you just say it's alright so we can go to bed?"

Lily crossed her arms, standing straighter.

"No, I think I want you to try harder."

Emily groaned, she sat down heavily and started to think her words carefully, Lily inched closer.

"Boys can be cruel when they're not thinking — Anyone, really... I've been brutal myself — Matthew and I almost stopped being friends a few months ago, because I don't like talking about my feelings," She laughed dryly. "I don't know what is it about today that it just... I don't want to be a tormentor my whole life, let alone to someone who is... tolerable. I'm sorry for making your life a living hell these past few years."

Lily sat down, although she kept the seat between them empty to keep some distance.

"You didn't make my life a living hell," She replied. "I... can admit you're a bit clever... even likeable — that last match when you threw Lewis a bludger after he called you a midget... it was kind of funny."

"The boys walked me everywhere that week, they thought Ernest was going to try and get back at me," Emily bit her lip, but she was now smiling. "I mean, I lived in fear for days! Thinking he would spike my drink at some point with poison or something... Until Matthew cornered him outside D.A.D.A. class one day, poor Lewis... he looked so small in comparison..."

"Anyone looks small next to Matthew, he's a giant," Lily grinned. "Well, if it's any consolation, I was planning on murdering you in a much classier manner than poison, but since you've apologized, I guess I won't have to kill you after all."

Emily snorted, her eyes lingered on Lily, who looked like she'd been crying for most of the day, and yet still had enough energy to sit down and talk with the girl she'd detested for the last four years.

"Why are you being nice?" She asked in annoyance. "I mean I'm glad you're kind of accepting my apology, but I thought you'd be a bit colder, walking away before I could even finish..."

"What kind of person do you think I am?" Lily raised a brow, with the orange light coming from the fireplace her green eyes looked far more intense than usual. "If I'm honest, you should thank Remus... he's tried to convince me that you lot are far better than you look..."

Emily sighed, when she was young she'd do mischief for fun, but now that she was older, and considering all the weird stuff that was happening outside the school, she was starting to think that maybe her group of friends were indeed changing for the best.

"I'm going to be honest with you too, Evans," The girl took a deep breath. "Being the only girl in my friend group is turning out to be pure torture. I'm in desperate need of a girlfriend."

Lily's mouth twitched a bit, but she didn't laugh.

"What makes you think I want to be your friend?"

"Oh, I don't think you want to," She raised a brow. "But maybe if we're on good terms I'd be able to ask you for a tampon without having to swallow my pride first."

Lily did laugh at this, she shook her head. "Holy Merlin, Sultens, you're loopy."

"You would be too if you were seated next to Sirius every day!" She paused. "So... are you willing to make peace?"

Lily examined her carefully, four long years of quarrels sat between them, but a lifetime of friendship could be ahead if Emily was truly sorry. She was a nice girl, and really smart too, she was annoying only when she was taunting Severus, and he was no longer her friend.

Lily stretched out her hand.

"Very well, but if you go back the deal is over and we'll be less than strangers, understood?"

"Sure."

She retreated her hand before Emily could grab it.

"Hang on — this is not Potter's idea, right? You're not trying to be my friend just so I date him later?"

"Lily, if anything I hope you and James never date," Emily snickered. "Nothing personal, you're just way too good for him."

"...Alright."

They shook hands, she'd meant what she said about it not being personal. James was a boy, a very silly one at that, and even though they were really close friends, Emily was no longer a blind supporter of his doings.

Funnily enough, this seemed to be related to Matthew, she couldn't stop thinking about that kiss! Merlin, he was a good kisser...

She shook the thought away, now was not the time for nonsense.

"I'm very honoured to be your acquaintance, Evans," Emily grinned.

"Call me Lily. Only Professors call me Evans... and Potter, but you know I hate that."

"Got it, Lils."

July 1996

"...I don't think this is right," Mel tilted her head. "Brownies are mean to be brown... not pitch-black."

"You burned them," Harry was standing behind them with his arms crossed, clearly upset.

"How could you burn them, Erick? They were in there for five minutes!"

"Are you sure..." Erick stabbed the mixture with a knife and made a face. "Ugh — they're still liquid in the middle!"

"How the fuck did you do this?"

"I thought it would work just the same if I doubled the heat and put less time," Erick sulked. "Ovens are weird."

"This is why we told you to stay out of it," Harry replied. "You don't know how muggle stuff work."

"I do know!"

"Then why did you burn the brownies?"

"Don't fight," Mel intervened, grabbing the platter and throwing its contents away. "Oh well, at least we ruined my birthday cake and not someone else's..."

"That's not okay," Harry frowned. "You should have a proper cake."

Mel looked at him and grinned. "I'll eat yours, then."

"How's everything going in here?" Emily walked in, behind her Lupin followed.

"Uncle Lu!" Mel rushed over to his side and hugged him, the man chuckled. "You came!"

"Well, hadn't been around for your birthday in a long time, I thought you'd like it," He said, lovingly patting her back.

"I do," She beamed. "We kind of ruined the cake, though, so we should buy doughnuts or something."

"It's a good thing I brought this, then," Lupin lifted his bag and placed it on the table, inside there was a beautifully adorned red velvet cake.

"You just saved my birthday!"

Harry and Erick shared a moody expression and grumbled complaints, Lupin laughed.

"The kids insisted on doing the cakes this year," Emily explained. "I told them it was not an easy job, but they insisted."

"Mel and I have done this before, Erick was the one who wanted to be in charge when he can't even make tea without magic," Harry glared at him.

"Muggles stuff are too complicated, alright?" He huffed.

"I don't mind," Mel said without paying attention to them, she was still beyond happy with her uncle's presence. "I wanted to give my mum a break, Leggie's been a bit hard to handle lately..."

"Is he?" Lupin looked at the little boy Emily was holding. "Is he ill?"

"No, he just cries a lot," The woman sighed. "Wakes us up every night."

"I thought that forcing my mother to bake when she's clearly too tired to be doing anything apart from feeding a baby was a crime," Mel stated. "So I took care of it."

"Then Flint messed it up," Harry taunted.

"And then you fixed it, Uncle Moony," The girl smiled. "So there's no harm done, right boys?"

She looked over her shoulder, raising a brow as if urging them to stop bickering before they embarrassed her in front of Lupin. Both mumbled their agreement, not quite meeting her eyes.

"Lovely," Mel looked back at the adults. "Who wants lunch?"

Mel and Erick were in the kitchen talking in hurried whispers, she appeared to be upset, the young man too. Emily and Remus were in the drawing-room, Harry was upstairs changing Reg's diaper.

"Do you know why they're arguing?" Remus asked, staring at the pair.

"Dumbledore came by this morning before breakfast," Emily sighed, leaning her head back on the couch. "Talked about this mission he had for Erick — you know how eager to help that boy is... so of course the old man came and put his offer on a silver platter, and Mel won't let Erick go on his own, so being the generous soul Dumbledore is," She said sarcastically, "He said she could go too if she wanted to."

"Really?" Remus frowned. "Well... he's been giving her lessons for years, Mily, perhaps he knows she can handle it."

"I don't care," She said bluntly. "That's my daughter, my daughter. Matt's daughter. How can he continue to risk my family's life like it's nothing?"

"You know Matthew did all he that because he wanted to, Dumbledore had nothing to do with his decisions."

"I know," Emily took a deep breath. "But he's got a lot to do with Mel's... she idolizes him."

"You think so?" The man looked over his shoulder again, staring at his goddaughter.

"I don't see why else she'd be so keen to follow his orders..."

"Maybe because she feels guilty?" Remus offered. "After what happened in the ministry..."

Emily pressed her lips together, she didn't want to talk about that.

"That's not her fault and she knows it. I told her it wasn't."

"You weren't there," He said gravely. "She went out of control. I had never seen anything like it, her magic was dark— I mean that literally. All the spells she did came out pitch-black. Dumbledore was the only one who could put a stop to it."

Emily's eyes grew worried, she looked over her shoulder as well and her gaze landed on Mel.

"You think it could be the same thing that Ariana Dumbledore had? That disease?"

"No one knows what happened to her," Remus said. "Not even Matthew knew, and he was part of the family... but it could be. Maybe Dumbledore knows something we don't, maybe this will help her... perhaps she needs this."

Emily stayed silent for a moment, then she groaned.

"I hate that we're always meant to trust him blindly."

"He's lived a hundred years, he might be wiser than all of us, don't you think?"

The woman scoffed, she looked ahead, deep in thought.

"A hundred years... Matthew couldn't even make it to twenty-one! James and Lily barely did... Sirius spent twelve years in Azkaban — But at least we all knew how the war looked like then, Remus. We fought for years... my daughter just turned sixteen, she still goes to school!"

"And yet she's already done her fair amount of fighting," The man raised a brow. "We didn't have the experiences she's gone through when we were her age. I stand with Dumbledore, she can do this."

"I'm not saying she can't," Emily grabbed the empty plates to take them to the kitchen. "I'm saying she shouldn't have to sacrifice her youth. Dumbledore asks for too much, I'm sure he's got someone else that could help him with the mission, but he's obsessed with making Mel his perfect copy."

Remus didn't try to argue back, little could convince Emily at this point, she'd never been a fan of Dumbledore, and after Matt's death it was no secret that she openly disliked him, but she still followed his orders, because she knew Dumbledore was the only chance they had to win this war.

Mel and Erick entered the room, neither of them angry, which made Remus think they had reached an agreement.

"I should leave," The man stood up. "Leon's been quiet, maybe Harry managed to make him sleep."

"Or maybe he's just playing with him," Emily stood up as well. "Really, I never thought Harry would get so attached to a baby..."

"I'll miss you, Uncle Lu, I hope to see you soon," Mel said, her eyes avoiding to look into Erick's direction.

"Me too, little Em," Remus hugged her tightly, he whispered in her ear. "Be good to your mother, alright?"

Mel looked at him with confusion, but she nodded anyway.

"So?" Emily crossed her arms. "What are you going to do?"

The young witch stared at her mother, Remus knew that expression. It was true and very strange, how she could have her dad's gaze even though her eyes were exactly like her mother's, but he knew that look, he'd seen it in Matt the last time they had spoken. Mel was done being a kid.

Taglist.

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[sorry-apsalar]

Does This Mean I'm a Girl Now?

Content Warning: this fic contains genderbending (sort of anyway) and gender dysphoria as a result of it, also multiple mentions of genitals as well as nudity in general.

My friends and I were discussing a thing that we were mildly salty about which brought on the topic about how we were salty in general over how a lot of genderbending stuff is portrayed. It often relies on stereotypes and gender roles which is really annoying and pretty shitty. Then my dear friend @itsladykit (I hope it’s okay that I tagged you, I just wanna give you proper credit for the idea) brought up the idea of a cis character getting magically genderbent and experiencing gender dysphoria because of it. Which I thought was a really neat idea but I wasn't sure if I was qualified to tell that tale but then they told me to follow my heart and write it and that's why this fic came into being.

Now I feel like I need to put the disclaimer that while I have personal experience with gender dysphoria, the worst of it was was back when I was a teenager, I've mostly grown out of it and I'm pretty sure most people have it stronger than I ever have. So if this isn't an 100% accurate depiction of dysphoria, that is why. I did my best though.

Also, Frender features in it mostly just because I was already fueled primarily by salt, might as well let my usual Futurama salt fuel me too.

-

“Wow,” Fry said as they looked over the naturally formed pool of bright pink goo. They’d been to a lot of different planets and seen quite a few different kinds and colours of goo but never one so pink. “It’s kind of pretty, don’t you think?”

“I guess,” Bender replied, disinterested. “I’m bored though so I dare you to jump in and see what happens.”

“Do not!” Leela snapped from somewhere behind them before Fry could even decide if he wanted to take that dare or not. “I don’t know what you guys found over there but don’t listen to him Fry because whatever it is, is probably dangerous.”

“Fucking killjoy,” Bender muttered so that only Fry could hear. He was right though; they were hiding out on a dumb planet with nothing on it to escape some asshole pirates which meant they had to just sit around and do nothing until Leela was sure they were free. It had only been probably an hour so far and Fry was already bored out of his mind. Leela had forbade them from doing anything ‘dirty’ in case they needed to get out in a hurry so the least she could do was let them investigate some cool pink goo.

So, feeling rather rebellious especially as the sound of Leela’s footsteps approached, presumably to investigate, Fry lowered himself to the ground so he could lean forward and stick in his hand in. The goo didn’t come up all the way to the lip of the natural pool, forcing him to lean a bit farther than he was really comfortable with considering the utterly unknown alien substance he would fall into if he lost his balance but if he fell Bender would catch him… probably anyway, so it should be fine.

The goo was pleasantly cool as it engulfed his hand, almost seemingly clinging to him and pulling it down. It was like sticking his hand in thick syrup fresh out of the fridge, a pleasant texture if a bit odd. Right away though his hand began to have that pins and needles feeling that came from laying on one’s arm wrong for way too long so he should probably…

The ground gave way beneath him, sending him into the goo. He didn’t even have time to yelp in surprise before he was fully submerged in it. He gasped instinctively, inadvertently breathing it in, making him choke and sputter.

He needed to get to the surface now! Except he didn’t even know where it was. He thrashed, trying to go in any direction but to no avail, the goo was too thick to swim well in and blackness was already eating at the edges of his vision. He couldn’t die like this! No fucking way! It wasn’t…

~

“…think it’s permanent?” Bender was saying from somewhere above Fry as he slowly came to.

“Who knows?” Leela replied from also somewhere above him. “For his sake, I hope not.”

“You make it sound like it’s a big problem.” Bender’s tone indicated that he disagreed.

“You don’t understand.” Leela was giving Bender her annoyed look, Fry didn’t even need to open his eyes to know that. “Though I guess I can’t really blame you for not understanding this, you’re a robot so it’s probably different for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Leela sighed. “Maybe you’re right, maybe it won’t be a big deal. Heck, maybe it’ll only last a few hours.”

As much as Fry enjoyed napping, the way they were talking was rather disconcerting so with a groan he opened his eyes and forced himself to sit up. Bender and Leela were standing to either side of where he lay on the ground. Bender was coated head to toe in bright pink goo, calling to mind what had happened last. That meant he’d jumped in after Fry and was probably the sole reason he hadn’t drowned. Now he was trying to wipe the goo off with a pink rag that might’ve once been white but it wasn’t very effective.

“Hey meatbag,” he said, turning his attention onto Fry. “How do you feel?”

“Uh… weird.” Fry was covered in goo still too. It clung to him and made him feel all tingly and odd, like his whole body had fallen asleep even though that wasn’t possible. And it smelled strange too and tasted bad. He turned his head to the side to spit as much of it out as he could, though it did little to rid his mouth of the taste. “I got to wash this stuff off,” he said as he stood up, careful of the probably slippery goo coating him and pooling around where it had dripped off him and Bender. “Thanks for saving me.” Was it just him or did his voice sound strange?

“Uh… Fry,” Leela cut in before he could turn to start for the ship. “The pink stuff kind of did something to your body.”

Oh no. “What?”

“Well, uh… um…”

“The most noticeable thing it did was give you boobs,” Bender finished. “I didn’t check your pants so it might’ve changed you down there too. You might want to look into it.”

Fry looked down at himself and… true to Bender’s words, his chest was quite different; his clothes soaked in the pink goo clung to him, highlighting the weird lumps on his chest. Boobs was what they were called, he had them now, big ones too. Or at least they looked big to him from this angle which wasn’t an angle he was ever supposed to see boobs from so how was he supposed to know?

“Does this mean I’m a girl now?” he asked as he looked back up at Leela and Bender. The strange thing about his voice was that it sounded more feminine and if it sounded that way to him how much more so was it to everyone else?

“Not unless you want to be,” Leela said with a reassuring smile.

“Uh… I don’t think I do.” He’d never considered it before even in passing but now that was forcibly faced with it, he was pretty sure he didn’t want to be a girl.

“Come on, let’s go wash this gunk off,” Bender said as he gave up on the rag, tossing it disdainfully to the ground before starting for the ship. Fry was more than happy to follow because who knows, maybe it would only last as long as the goo was coating him.

“All right,” Leela said, “I’m going to collect a sample of the pink stuff to bring back to the Professor.”

 -

Undressing brought to Fry’s unfortunate attention that the goo had changed more than just his chest and voice. His hips were wider, his shoulders a little narrower – not by much, he’d never exactly had broad shoulders but enough that even if no one else was likely to notice he still did – and the other biggest change was that his dick was missing. He could explore what was there instead with his hands but… he didn’t feel particularly inclined to do so.

Which was odd, wasn’t it? In every movie or TV show he’d ever seen where a man ended up with a female body through whatever means, the joke almost always was that they were excited to touch themselves down there and play with their new boobs. It wasn’t even that he wasn’t into such things, while he did prefer men – especially if they were robots or aliens – boobs and vagina weren’t turn offs by any means. On himself though it was just… too weird.

With a sigh, he did his best to shake it off and stepped into the shower after Bender. There was only one on board the ship because it wasn’t exactly meant for everyday use, mostly decontamination and washing off dangerous chemicals which this probably counted as. There was enough room for both of them though so it was whatever.

“You owe me for going in after you,” Bender said, turning to face him. “It leaked into my everything and now I have to clean everything.” To demonstrate, he opened his chest compartment, revealing that it had been partially filled with pink goo, Fry had to pull his foot back to stop it from splashing on him. Bender then began taking things out to wash off too, including his cigar case, its contents most likely ruined. He gave Fry a pointed look as he put it back as if this were his fault, which it kind of was.

“Sorry, thanks for saving me though, I owe you big. But uh… you did dare me to jump in.” Not that Fry had meant to or would’ve if given the choice, not even he was quite that stupid.

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it. But whatever, I guess this is more exciting than sitting around doing nothing. By the way, in case you haven’t noticed yet, your dick’s gone.”

Fry had to hold back a groan; that wasn’t something he really wanted to think about. “Yeah, I know. How long was I in the goo before you pulled me out though?” Because surely a change this drastic couldn’t have happened in brief awful seconds he remembered.

“I don’t know, five, ten minutes. That stuff isn’t exactly easy to see through and it was a lot deeper than it looked. Which was why I had to jump in to find you in it.”

“How come it didn’t do anything to you?”

“I don’t know, maybe because I’m a robot.” That was kind of an ‘oh duh’, huh?

They were silent for a bit while Fry focused on making sure to wash all the goo off. He could probably safely step out now if he wanted to, the pins and needle feeling the goo had given him was rapidly fading, but the water was warm and… “What do you think of this?” He did his best to keep his tone casual. “Does it uh… change how you see me or anything?”

Bender scoffed as if Fry was stupid to even consider such a thing. “No, why would it? I’m a robot and I’m pan so I have double the reason not to care what your body is shaped like. It should be fun to play around with later though.” He winked as if his meaning wasn’t already obvious.

Fry wasn’t really sure about that but… that was probably just because he still wasn’t over the shock of the sudden change. When he was more used to it, it would probably be fun to experiment with so… “Yeah, maybe once we’re home and stuff.” Or maybe it would wear off before they even got there and thus it would basically be a non-thing, just another weird adventure that wrapped up quickly and left everything exactly the same as before. He could always hope, right?

~

“… and it’s permanent,” Professor Farnsworth finished, jerking Fry out of the bored stupor listening to the scientific explanation behind the exact mechanics behind the sex change had put him in.

“It’s what?” Hopefully Fry had just misheard something. He hadn’t exactly been paying attention after all.

“It’s permanent,” Farnsworth repeated. “It’s not going to wear off.”

“You mean I’m stuck like this forever?”

“Not necessarily. There’s of course the traditional transition methods you could take or I could use this,” Farnsworth held up the vial of pink goo that Leela had collected for him, “to engineer a substance that will have the opposite effect. And then it’ll be like this whole misadventure never happened except we’ll have the means to get rich off of selling this stuff. Of course we don’t yet know what all the risks it might pose are but that’s all the more reason to sell it to as many people as possible so we can find out.”

Ugh, Fry hadn’t even considered what other possible risks his inadvertent bath in the pink goo might’ve had. What if it was also super toxic and was going to eventually kill him? Or what if it drastically increased his risk of cancer other possibly fatal condition? … Eh, it was probably fine so… “How long is that going to take?”

“Hmmm…” Farnsworth held the vial up to the light as he studied it. “I don’t know. I should probably get to work on it.” And without any further word he was shuffling off out of the room. Everyone in the room, which was everyone employed at Planet Express because privacy didn’t exist in the modern age, watched him go.

“On the bright side,” Leela said from the other side of the conference table, “if he can make something that can do the reverse, we’ll have discovered something that can help a lot of people.”

“Assuming it’s safe anyway,” Amy added. “It could still be super toxic and deadly or something. So, congrats Fry, you get to be a guinea pig for a new way of transitioning. Here’s to hoping it doesn’t kill you in the end.”

“Uh… thanks, I think.” He’d rather not be a guinea pig for anything but seems he didn’t have a choice here so yeah, hopefully it was safe to use. But at least if anyone could make something that could turn him back to normal it was the Professor. So really everything would be fine. He just had to deal with this weirdness for a little while.

~

Looking at himself naked in his bedroom mirror was a mistake. His boobs were weird shaped lumps on his chest that hung there kind of like those ballast bags that hung on the sides of hot air balloon baskets but rounder and with nipples. How could something that looked like that be natural? Crossing his arms over them to try to hid them from view sort of worked but it also pushed them closer together which wasn’t a pleasant sensation. And combined with his hips, they gave him that ‘hourglass figure’ that was supposed to be desirable but didn’t look right in the mirror.

He couldn’t bear to look at his crotch for more a couple seconds because his dick was gone! That was weird and just plain wrong. Everything about his body looked wrong now and he hated it. He’d never particularly liked his body before – muscles would’ve been cool to have but weren’t worth the effort – but it had been utter indifference. Now looking at himself was an unpleasant experience.

He… wasn’t just going to just get used to or over this, was he? His body wasn’t supposed to be like this and thus he couldn’t feel comfortable in it while it was.

Eager to be done looking at himself, he stepped forward and turned the mirror around to face the wall. It would stay until his body was back to normal. All he could really do was hope that that would be soon.

In the meantime though he went to his closest in search out the baggiest clothes he had. Luckily everything he wore on a typical day was already baggy and a lot of it a size or so bigger than needed. Zipping up the jacket should help obscure his boobs too, maybe even completely, though probably not because his initial call had been right, they were on the larger side. But regardless it would be better than nothing.

Right as he was pulling on the jacket, the door opened behind him. “I don’t like this whole sex change thing,” he said as he zipped up and turned to face Bender as he entered. “Like I really, really don’t like it.”

“Why?” Of course Bender wouldn’t understand and well, honestly Fry didn’t either.

“I don’t know.” There wasn’t any solid logical reason for why he disliked it so much. “It just makes me uncomfortable. My body’s not supposed to look like this with boobs and… stuff.” And lacking of other things. “I don’t like it. So if we could pretend that it’s not a thing that would be great.”

Bender gave him a weird look before shrugging and moving on. “I swear you meatbags never cease to be weird. But if it really bothers you that much, I won’t mention your boobs or junk if that’s what you want.”

“Yes, I would like that, thanks.”

“That means we’re not going to fuck tonight though, huh?”

“Uh… yeah, I’d rather not.” That would involve exploring his new body and he couldn’t imagine that being fun.

“The things I put with for you. But whatever, let’s go watch TV then.”

Fry was more than happy to follow him back out into the living room. He could really use the distraction of both watching TV and of cuddling up with Bender.

 -

True to Fry’s prediction he never got over his discomfort about his new body. Wearing obscuring clothing helped as did making sure to never look at himself in the mirror, especially without clothes, but it was still there. He could go for hours at a time without thinking about it but ultimately it always came back in one form or another and it was the worst.

Thankfully no one at Planet Express treated him any different. None of them even mentioned it after the initial buzz about it had faded. Sadly, such was not true for strangers; men flirted with him more which wouldn’t have been much of an issue if they weren’t flirting with him because of something he was uncomfortable with and wished wasn’t a thing. Bender put a jealous stop to a lot of that though which was much appreciated. And then there was everyone calling him she or her which sucked – he got called they or them some too which was better even if it still wasn’t right – most people didn’t care when he corrected them but it was still awkward that he had to.

But finally, just when it was starting to seem like he’d reached his limit and couldn’t take it anymore, upon arriving at work, Professor Farnsworth was there to greet him with some actual good news for once. The opposite of the pink goo was ready to be tested. The fact that Fry would be the first one testing it didn’t even matter to him to anymore.

It was in the pool out back where everyone else was already waiting because again, privacy wasn’t a thing anymore apparently, though honestly Fry didn’t even really care that much. But… “I’d thought it’d be blue,” was the first thing he said upon seeing it because it was bright yellow.

“Why would it be blue?” Farnsworth asked, genuinely confused.

“Because the other stuff was pink and it did this to me so it just makes sense for something that’s supposed to do the opposite to be blue, right?”

“That makes no sense,” Bender said. “Stop being stupid and go jump in already. And don’t almost drown this time because I’m not jumping in to save you again if you do, once was more than enough.”

“You say that but I doubt you mean it,” Hermes chimed in. “We all know you’d jump if to save him if you had to.”

Bender glared at him but Amy spoke up before he could say anything. “Yeah, you two have been dating for like a year now and were like totally in love for like ever even before you were official so don’t pretend to be a tough guy.”

“Just jump in already,” Zoidberg butted in. “I want to see what happens.”

“Yes, let’s just get this over with,” Fry said before anyone else could chime in with anything. He stepped forward to stand on the edge of the pool. “Can you guys like… look away please? I don’t want to ruin my clothes and uh… yeah.” He didn’t want them seeing him naked when his body was still like this even though logically they all already knew what he looked like but… he just didn’t want them seeing.

“Of course,” Leela said as she turned away. Thankfully everyone else soon followed suit with only a little grumbling.

Eager to have this over and done with, Fry quickly undressed. After tossing his balled-up clothes to the side, he sat down on the edge of the pool and slowly lowered himself into the yellow goo. It felt exactly the same as the pink goo had; cool and thick, quickly giving him that unpleasant pins and needles feeling. He had to force himself to submerge his head.

 -

Fry was awoken by cold water being splashed onto his face. His eyes shot open to see who else but Bender hovering over him. “Hey Fry, I thought I told you not to almost drown this time.”

He didn’t remember falling asleep or unconscious and he certainly hadn’t intended to. “Sorry,” he said as he sat up.

Everyone had crowded around to loom over where he lay on the ground next to the pool. “How do you feel?” Farnsworth asked, adjusting his glasses. “Did it work? I can’t tell with all the yellow.”

“Uh…” Fry looked down at himself. … “It worked!” he said as he shot up to his feet. He was back to normal, how his body was supposed to be. His chest of flat, his proportions back to normal, and he had his dick back. Gosh, he never would’ve thought he’d feel so good while naked and surrounded by a bunch of people staring at him.

“Congrats on surviving another sex change,” Leela said.

“And on getting your dick back,” Amy added with an unhelpful thumbs up.

“Maybe next time think twice before deciding to play with a mysterious alien substance,” Hermes said.

Of course the Professor had something to say too. “Now we just got to wait a couple weeks and see if you randomly drop dead before declaring it tested and ready to sell.”

This was very quickly growing awkward with everyone standing around Fry and talking at him while he was butt naked and covered in experimental goo. “I’m going to go wash this stuff off now,” he said as he was already backing away. Also, now that his body was back to normal, there was something he wanted to do because he finally could again and the shower would be the prefect place to do it.

He’d learned an important and valuable lesson though: next time Bender dared him to play in an unknown substance, no matter how bored he was, he’d think about it a little harder before deciding to risk sticking his hand in. And to be more careful around alien goo in general.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

summertime sadness .8.

deja vu

Sequel to kiss me in the d-a-r-k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 (masterlist under construction)

Warnings: non con 

This is dark!(dad)Steve and dark(professor!)Bucky and dark!Loki and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader tries to avoid disaster.

Note: Not much to say for this one. Just enjoy. Thank you!💋

<3 Let me know what you think in a reblog, reply, or like. I’m loving the feedback from y'all and the enthusiasm! Also as always, memes accepted.

💋💋💋

Friday night. You were on the train before six. Loki let you go fairly quickly. He had cum fairly quickly. The remnants were on your blouse, barely concealed by your cardigan. The shadows of the underground flickered through the windows and the noise of the crowd drowned out that in your head.

You walked the half-block to your building. An unexpected figure sat waiting on the step. It was too late to hide. Bucky stood, the pizza box balanced against his chest. He smiled weakly.

"Figured since you've been dodging me, I'd come to you," He said evenly. "And I brought some food to appease you."

"I'm not very hungry." You muttered as you dug around for your keys. "I'm tired."

"Must be. You're home late. Train doesn't take that long." He remarked. "If you don't want a slice, you can keep the leftovers for tomorrow. Or is it me you don't want?"

You sighed as you brushed past him and he followed you into the lobby.

"I just...have a lot on my plate." You said as you unlocked the door. "I don't think it's a good idea to keep this up while I'm..." 

"Fucking your boss?" He ventured. "You think I couldn't guess?"

"Working." You insisted as you stopped in the door. "And what do you care?"

"I don't, really. I'm only curious. It's all so sudden. You know, it wouldn't bother me if--"

"Nothing bothers you," You snapped. 

"So what do you think? You cut off your old ties and chase him into the sunset? You really think he's gonna help you once he's had his fun?"

You flinched. You lowered your eyes and turned away. He kicked his foot in the door before you could close it.

"No, but it will do neither of us any good to carry on like this." You retorted.

He frowned. He looked at the pizza box and picked at the edges with his nails. He nodded. "He knows."

"Yeah," You confirmed meekly. "He knows."

"And so he told you to ditch me? He blackmailing you?"

"I made that decision. To protect both of us."

"Protect us? This could fuck up your whole career."

"Yeah, and if our little affair got out, what do think then? You think they'd keep you on tenure?" You spat.

"I'd find something else. You don't have to play martyr." He argued.

"Sure, maybe you'd survive the fall but what about me? I don't think I'd be able to climb back up."

"Sure you could." 

"I'm on scholarship. And if they didn't kick my ass out of the university, they'd surely pull my funding. And the internship? Loki could have me blacklisted all the way to England." You shook your head. "I don't get to fuck up. Not like you."

"And what about Steve?" He asked.

"What about him?” You sneered. “I think I'll stop while I'm ahead." 

"You can't just cut him off like that." He said.

"I can take care of myself. About time I start." You hissed.

"A little help never hurt anyone." He said.

"Just... I can't right now." You uttered. "I can barely think. I don't sleep. I... please just leave me alone."

Bucky scowled. "You gonna tell him?" 

"When I find the words," You said. "Please don't."

"Yeah, no, you take care of yourself," He shoved the pizza toward you. "And eat something. Just one slice."

"No, I can't."

"Just do me this last favour." He pushed it against you until you took it. "I don't even like feta."

"Thanks." You took the box entirely. "I'm sorry."

"Nah, I'm sorry." He shrugged. "It's as much my fault as yours but... hey, if the fall gets too high, let me know. I'll still be there to catch you if I can."

You gulped and nodded, unable to speak through your tightened throat. You sniffed and finally found your voice.

"Bye." You squeaked.

"See ya," He gave half a wave. "You got my number."

He turned and you watched him go. You backed up slowly until the door shut. The pizza was still warm but the smell turned your stomach. Or maybe it was yourself that made you so sick.

💋

Another week passed. Another agonizing week. The office that was once your naive fantasy had become an all too real nightmare. Loki hovered over you, even when he wasn’t there. He loomed menacingly on your shoulder. His voice in the back of your head.

And Steve. The messages never stopped. You woke to them and fell asleep reading them. Still, you couldn’t think of what to say. He’d give up eventually. You were just some girl he fucked. That’s it. So you left him on read and distracted yourself with your daily torment.

Loki was out of his office that day but it didn’t preclude you from his schedule. As you packed up, your phone vibrated. He was waiting for you outside. You knew exactly why. The same reason he kept you every day. He wanted to try a new toy. Wanted to play with his toy. You responded quickly and dropped your phone in your bag.

The elevator was too fast so you took the stairs. Your steps echoed around the flights and when you reached the bottom, you were out of breath. You stepped out into the lobby and lingered there. Loki’s streetcar was by the curb just outside the doors. His driver kept the window up when you were around.

You took a breath and your heels clicked across the polished floor. You pushed through the door as the rear window of the car slowly declined. Your name tripped you up as it came from your left. You turned to the familiar voice as its owner stepped away from the side of the building.

“Steve?” You gasped. “What are you--”

“Ah, so you remember me?” He asked as he crossed his arms. 

“Steve…”

“I just want an answer. Anything?” He stepped closer. “Just tell me why?”

“I… can’t,” You sucked in your lip nervously. “I gotta go.”

“No, no, you can’t just run away,” He caught your arm before you could flee. “Bucky told me you iced him out too. And I can tell he’s not telling me everything either.”

“Look it’s… complicated.” You sputtered. “Can we-- can we meet later? I’ll tell you then but I really need to go.”

A car door opened and closed. You cringed as the figure in your peripheral neared and the arm snaked around your waist to draw you away from Steve.

“Problem?” Loki asked with a smirk.

Steve scowled and looked between you. “Not yours, buddy.”

“I’d say it was. You’re keeping my date…” His hand dropped and he squeezed your ass. You flinched and looked to the sidewalk. “And we have plans I am most eager for.”

“We’re talking,” Steve said. “Give us a minute.”

“You can keep talking,” Loki taunted as his hand trailed along your spine.

You felt Steve’s eyes on you but couldn’t bring yourself to look up. “Without you.” Steve warned.

“Whatever you have to say to her you can say to me,” Loki argued. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind. Seems she has a certain taste.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think she was into assholes,” Steve scoffed. 

Loki chuckled. “Look, gramps, can we get this over with?”

“Oh, we can end this,” Steve stepped up to Loki. “You just gotta walk away.”

Loki rescinded his arm and met Steve in kind. “Doesn’t look like she wants to talk.”

“I didn’t ask you.” 

“Well, let’s talk then.” Loki taunted. “You see, me and your midlife crisis have been having quite the time and we’re running behind.”

“Don’t,” Steve bristled.

“And I hear… rather I know,” Loki lowered his voice, “She loves it from behind.”

“Don’t talk about her like that.” Steve growled.

“You must know? Or maybe you’re the old missionary hero, yeah? How long does that little blue pill keep you going?”

“Stop.” Steve’s tone drew your eyes up at last.

“It’s all me. No enhancement.” Loki continued. “And oh, does she love it. You should hear her, begging for it as I--”

Loki stumbled back suddenly as Steve’s fist flew up. You exclaimed and backed away as Loki barely stayed on his feet. Steve reeled back again and you caught his arm before he could grab your boss by his scruff. 

“Steve,” You pleaded. “Leave him alone.”

He looked at you then to Loki cradling his bloody nose. “You’re coming with me. Now.”

“No, I don’t think she is,” Loki said as he sniffed back the blood. 

“Oh ho, well you can stop me from taking her,” Steve flexed his fingers. 

“Steve!” You snapped. “Enough. Both of you.”

Loki narrowed his eyes as he pushed his knuckle to his nose to stem the bleeding. He nodded and glared at the other man. “Fine. Get him out of here before I’m inclined to return the favour.” He barked. “But I expect you at eight. Sharp.”

“Alright, okay,” You appeased as you clung to Steve’s arm; he was still tense and ready to pounce again. “Just go.”

He pinched his nose and grimaced. He turned and strutted over to his town car. He sent one last snarl your way as he opened the door. As his door snapped shut and the car drew away, you let out a shaky breath. You looked up at Steve and his eyes met yours.

“We need to talk,” He said.

“Yeah,” You sighed. “I think we do.”

💋

Your apartment was quiet. A thick silence that settled in your chest. You closed the freezer and grabbed a cloth from your drawer. You wrapped up the ice pack as you neared Steve and sat beside him on the end of the bed. You took his large hand and pressed the cool bundle to it. He hissed, his knuckles swollen and red.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” You said.

“I couldn’t help myself,” He let you cradle his hand. “I can’t believe you’re fucking that guy.”

“Yeah? Or you can’t believe I’m not fucking you?” You challenged.

He frowned and looked away. “Maybe both.” He admitted. “But why him?”

You let out a long breath. You looked to your feet and shifted on the bed. “Because… he could take everything from me.”

“He…” His brow creased. “He’s blackmailing you?”

“Just like you.” You shook your head. “Same tricks, only better.”

“I--” He began. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“You still got that video?” You asked.

He hung his head guiltily. He didn’t need to say so.

“It’s all gotten out of control and the only thing I can do is let the mess drown me,” You grumbled. “All I have to do is get through the summer.”

He drew his hand away and leaned away from you as he dug in his pocket with his uninjured hand. He pulled out his phone and unlocked it. He opened his gallery and scrolled through until he found the video. He handed it over.

“Delete it.” He said. “I shouldn’t have ever taken it. I shouldn’t have…” 

You took the phone as his voice died. You watched yourself undressing by the hot tub. It felt so long ago. You hit the trash can icon and hovered your finger over ‘yes’. You sniffed and pressed down. The video disappeared.

“So, does that make everything right?” You scoffed.

“Not even close,” He said. “I don’t think anything will. I realise that now.”

“Yeah, no going back,” You muttered.

“I’m sorry. I know it probably means nothing, but I am.”

“Loki… isn’t your fault.”

“No, he isn’t but… I still hurt you. I used you and I knew what I was doing but I did it anyway.” He stretched his bruised fingers and hissed. “I wish I could punch myself.”

“I know what you mean,” You leaned against him. 

“You can punch me.” He said.

“No, I meant me,” You shook your head and placed his phone beside him. “Thank you for apologizing.”

“Least I could do.” 

He let you take his hand again and exhaled as you put the ice to it. You stared at his phone as you thought. You raised your head and looked him in the eye. 

“Thank you!” You chimed.

“For what?” He blinked. 

“I think I figured it out.” You breathed. 

“Figured it out?” He wondered.

“First,” You grinned as the pieces fell together in your mind. “I gotta meet Loki at eight.”

[asgardianthot]

Hunting Season (sambucky) – Part 5

Series Masterlist

Warning: mention of abuse

Words: 2597

A/N: I know I sort of disappeared for a while lol school work has been insane and I’m just beginning to get used to the stress of being an art major, especially under these circumstances :/ All my free time I spent doing fanart tho so it feels like forever since I last wrote! Anyways, enjoy the following set of heavy declarations between these two loverbois because I loved writing this chapter!

Another note! In case it’s unclear, the flashback in the second half is what happened the night of the first chapter, when Sam invited Bucky over to help him with his financial problems and such, and he ended up getting drunk and being dragged to bed (when Sam asked if he said anything stupid, Bucky lied and said no)

When they reached their bedroom, Bucky let go of Sam’s grip, softly enough so that Sam would know he wasn’t tumbling from mere drunkenness. Even though he did tumble a bit on his way to the bed. Meanwhile, Sam closed the door and turned to aid his friend.

"I'm fine, Sam.” Bucky reassured him as he sat on the edge of the mattress, “Just wasted, 's all."

Sam, however, was determined to look after him, "Sit." He ordered.

James nodded with acceptance and took a breath, feeling the alcohol wash away and making room for sleepiness. Almost immediately, a knock was heard on the door, to which Sam checked to see if Bucky looked decent enough, in case they had to deal with any family members.

“Who is it?” Sam asked before opening.

He was relieved to hear a female voice which belonged to the maid, Nicole.

“I brought your coffee.” Her statement sounded more like a question.

Sam let go of the breath he was holding and received the platter, not without before thanking her with a kind smile. He waited until she had left to shut the door for good; the next person to come knocking would be met with them pretending to be asleep. Neither Sam nor Bucky were in the mood to withstand more judgement, but especially Sam wasn’t in the mood to deal with any other Barnes than the one in that room.

Sam offered the mug to Bucky, "You still want it?”

Yet the man made a grimace before rubbing his left eye, letting Sam know he was sleepy now and was in no need of sobering up through caffeine. It was better to just go to bed. When Sam put the mug away, James laid back on the bed with exhaustion. A few seconds later, he felt Sam’s hand taking off his shoes.

"Thanks." Bucky said in a hoarse, almost embarrassed tone.

Once Sam finished taking off the drunk man’s shoes off, he tossed them aside and sat on his butt, groaning with tiredness. What his eyes spoke to Bucky was uncertain, but there was a clear hint of disappointment. Sam didn’t mean to, but his entire body was rejecting the patience he tended to have for his buddy.

"What's got you so jumpy, dude?" Sam finally spat out what was in his preoccupied mind.

From the bed, Bucky looked down to the man on the floor and saw concern. Love. Someone who cared, and Bucky’s every fiber rejected the possibility of giving into it. He put up a big emotional wall between them and proceeded to fake disinterest. He scoffed, rubbed his sleepy eyes again and began looking up at the ceiling with nothingness dwelling in his eyes.

He shrugged and spoke as if it was nothing, "You know what's got me jumpy."

It had to do with Brock, obviously, and he didn’t feel like discussing the sensitivities of the past relationship right now. But Sam knew his friend and he knew he had never seen him react that defensive to anyone before. So aggressive, and excessively responsive. Sam wasn’t an idiot.

"No, I don't.” Sam replied sternly, “I know he's an asshole, and he's manipulative, and he's horrible, but I think there's more. And I really want you to tell me, if that's okay."

The way Sam phrased it, Bucky knew he already suspected the answer. There was no use hiding it, and he felt like lying about it would turn the whole situation into a bigger deal. There was no deceiving Samuel Wilson.

He bit the inside of his cheek, concealing his disgust, and replied in a monotone, "He kicked my ass, okay?"

Sam frowned, but his friend couldn’t see him.

"He what?"

Bucky sighed loudly. No matter how hard he tried to derail the subject, he knew he had to tell the details. He was finally giving in, and he hated it.

"I was... walking out that door for the last time, you know, he said he was tired of me leaving and coming back.” He turned his head to avoid facing his friend before continuing, “So he- whatever, he sort of... yanked my hair and stuff.”

The silence that followed gave room for Sam to believe there was more.

“Kicked me.” Bucky completed the details, then cleared his throat in an attempt to get rid of the knot in his throat, “Like I said, he kicked my ass."

"That's a big deal, Bucky,” Sam stated, his eyes big and apprehensive, and filled with an indiscernible mix of negative feelings, “that's abuse."

"So, it was. What'd you care?"

As much as Sam knew, deep down, that Bucky was speaking out of mere rejection of his own feelings, he couldn’t help but feel offended at the assumption that he could not worry about it.

"Because I care.” He raised his voice with disbelief, “God, of course I do, how couldn't I?"

He gained no response from James. In the midst of the horrific news, Sam had to remind himself of the fact that the man was still wasted, therefore he couldn’t ask too much of him. Sam wanted to know more, he wanted to have a real heart-to-heart, he wanted to go downstairs and smash a glass to Brock’s smug and damage his face permanently. Instead, he steadied himself, somehow. It took him a few long and difficult seconds to gather his calm, but he managed to do so.

He stood up and went to the bathroom to put on his pajamas. He seized the walk to throw Bucky his pajama pants, not too gently. The last thing he saw before shutting the bathroom door was Bucky’s inaccurate hand grabbing the item from the other side of the bed. When Sam came back from brushing his teeth, he saw Bucky in pajama bottoms and shirtless, passed out on his belly.

During the half hour to follow, Sam tried to catch some sleep, but his mind was elsewhere. More agonizingly long minutes passed, and all he could think about was that he would be too tired at the hunt the next day, which made him think of the Barnes and their guests, which made him think of Brock and how much he wanted to kill him for hurting Bucky.

Eventually, he heard choked noises coming from the man he was giving his back to, and later he realized that those noises were sobs. He turned and saw Bucky, curled up on himself, also giving Sam his back and trembling slightly as he failed to conceal his own crying.

"Buck." Sam called softly.

"I'm sorry.” He replied, his voice cracking, “I'm sorry for everything, for bringing you here, asking for money, fuck, I'm sorry for being your friend."

The final statement broke Sam’s heart even more than the sound of Bucky’s sobs. He placed one hand on the side of his torso, where his ribs contracted at the rhythm of his hectic breathing and attempted to calm him, mostly by telling him a comforting truth.

"Don't say that, man. I love you." He reminded his friend.

"You shouldn't.” James denied it, “God, I'm a mess, I drag everyone into my shit, and now I dragged you. You- you don't deserve this."

"Hey.” Sam interrupted, “You got some issues, doesn’t mean you're not a lost cause."

"No, but I am.” Bucky’s pitch dropped an octave, managing to express more sorrow and certainty than before, “Not even Brock fucking Rumlow could handle me, he said I was so-“ a hiccup cut his words short, “so damaged that... that not even he- he could stand me."

"He was manipulating you."

"I know, but he's right!” his own words surprised him, and they truly cut like knives, “I'm such a fucking-“

"Hey." Sam cut him off, hugging him from behind.

"I'm-"

"You're my best friend, remember?” He said sweetly, “You're a great guy. And I'm a great guy, so I know what I'm talking about."

Barnes shook his head, "No."

"Just let me hold you, dude."

At the sound of that, Bucky’s breathing calmed a little, realizing there was no convincing Sam of his own self-flagellating thoughts. Sam believed he was good, and perhaps, only perhaps, it gave Bucky a tiny bit of hope. He eventually loosened next to Sam’s embrace, and they accommodated themselves in a cuddle. Sam ran his thumb up and down Bucky’s naked shoulder, as a reminder that he was there.

"You're okay.” Sam whispered soothingly, “You're dealing with stuff. We'll manage."

We. Bucky couldn’t help but warm up at the thought of a ‘we’.

"Thank you.” Bucky croaked, then swallowed with difficulty, “For everything."

Silence and calm being insured, they slept like that, cuddling until morning came.

-

A few weeks ago. The night before.

“Okay, Professor Wilson, you got homework to grade tomorrow.” Bucky groaned humorously as he struggled to hold Sam’s weight on his feet.

The wine they had poured for themselves was long gone, but its disappearance was, at least, ninety percent Sam’s fault. While Bucky’s senses were untouched, even though he was the one whose life was falling apart because of his miserable living situation, Sam seized the opportunity to get absolutely wasted nonetheless, leaving the task of getting his ass to bed in Bucky’s hands.

While Bucky found his friend’s drunk state amusing, leading his tumbling body to the bedroom turned out to be harder than he thought. Sam’s entire weight relied on Bucky’s upper body strength, not to mention his resistance to being babied.

“N’a don’t.” Sam protested.

“Well, you’re drunk.” Bucky sighed.

Sam’s lips curled into a smile and he directed his wine-smelling breath directly towards Bucky’s face, almost taunting him, “Yes’am.” He slurred.

Bucky looked the other way with exasperation before bettering his grip on Sam’s unstable body, losing his patience.

“Come on, man, help me out.” He complained.

Finally, the two managed to cross the door to Sam’s bedroom, and being so close to dropping the dead weight on its bed, Bucky started realizing how tired his own arms were.

“You hittin’ the gym or something?” he mocked, almost out of breath, “Why do you weigh ten times more than the last time I did this?”

“Mmm-maybe I put on old man fat.” Sam said in a grumpy tone, “Like an old man.”

Barnes rolled his eyes while taking a breath to recover his physical strength, “You’re not an old man.”

As soon as he let Sam’s body fall dead on the mattress, Bucky sighed with contempt, yet went back to his babysitting task by leaning down, hovering over Sam’s face.

“Hey.” Bucky put on a stern, yet not serious voice as he pointed a finger at his friend, “I hope you remember this tomorrow, ‘cause I’m about to drop some knowledge, okay?”

Sam’s lost expression didn’t change though, “M’kay.” He mumbled.

“You’re not old.” James began, “You’re a youthful, incredibly handsome man, and any woman would be lucky to have you.”

The hyping words caused Wilson to snort amusingly.

“I bet all of your students drool over you but you’re too much of a good man to even notice.”

This time, they both laughed.

“I dunno…” Sam shook his head, his eyes not really focusing on anything.

“Say it with me. I’m hot.” Bucky demanded.

“’m hot.” The other repeated.

“I’m a catch.”

“I’m a catch!” He raised his voice with a deep, exaggerated tone, clearly concealing his laugh.

Bucky then squinted with amusement, “And I got a fine piece of ass.”

That got the last of Samuel, provoking him a loud chuckle that satisfied Bucky enough to decide his job as drunk-babysitter was completed.

“Alright, go to sleep, hot stuff.” He smiled and stood up straight.

Sam, however, stopped him before he could leave, “Wait. I got some knowledge, too.”

His words were difficult to pronounce, and even more when he struggled to sit. He gave up on trying and simply rested on a more upright position, supported by his forearms. Bucky watch him do his best effort and prepared for the drunk babbling that was certainly about to happen. He crossed his arms and was incapable of concealing his smile.

“Alright, go.” Bucky taunted him.

“You’ve always… been too good for him.”

At the sound of that, Bucky’s smile dropped. He wasn’t expecting a serious chat, and less one about Rumlow. He didn’t know what to respond, and so Samuel went on.

“He’s not even that great, he’s just… so good at lying, he-he made you think he was.” He declared, frowning like he was trying to understand the injustice, “And you-you tried to…I dunno, see the good in him. ‘cause you do that, you find the good in people.”

Sam’s gaze lingered, focused on Bucky’s expression, but it didn’t seem like the drunkenness allowed him to process the fact that Bucky was neither content nor comfortable with the conversation. After a few seconds of silence, Bucky spoke in a cold, partially upset tone.

“Why would I do that?” He asked out of genuine curiosity for Sam’s insight on the matter.

“’Cause you’re good!” The man replied with an instantly escalading smile, definitely not reading the room, but entirely confident in his own words, “You’re the goodest- no, that’s not…” He stopped himself by laughing at his own made up word, finally catching on how unintelligent he sounded.

“Alright.” James cut him off dryly, “Time for bed.”

But Sam was too invested in conveying his strong opinions to his friend, so he barely even heard him.

“His hair is dumb.” He continued naming Brock’s flaws, “And he’s the dumbest guy alive for treating you like that. ‘Cause you, you… God, if I…? If I had you-?”

Before he could stop stammering, Bucky raised his voice and interrupted him.

“Sam, go to sleep.”

Being too wasted to protest or even understand why Bucky was acting in such a way, Sam dropped his head down with exhaustion. He nodded in agreement of the fact that he should go to sleep, and plopped on the pillow behind him.

Sam was too far gone to consider the weight of his words. But even if he was sober, he would never know to what extent what he was about to say would hurt Bucky. Because Bucky had considered it before, years ago. He had thought, in his darkest days, that if only Sam liked men, if only Sam dared to look Bucky’s way like something more than a friend, perhaps Bucky could have had a shot at real love. He fantasized, long ago, that Sam’s love would be a breath of fresh air, that Sam could teach him what respect and real care could mean.

In his brightest days, however, before Brock, he had felt something beautiful. There were no selfish reasons, no wishful thinking, simply… something. Bucky had felt something beautiful towards his best friend, something that made him think perhaps he was capable of beautiful feelings, he was capable of loving selflessly. The problem was that if it ever came out into the light, and Sam found out, he wouldn’t reciprocate, and then Bucky would have risked everything. He decided, eventually, that Sam’s friendship was more important than his hope of becoming the kind of person who felt beautiful love.

That kind of confusion, Bucky hadn’t felt in years. Not since he shoved it all down his throat and pretended he had never even considered Sam as something other than just his best friend.

So, whatever Sam was about to say right there, Bucky refused to hear the end of that sentence.