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god-has-entered-my-body · 6 months

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You said some day we might - M.H x Reader // pt.3

A/N: This one's a bit NSFW (minors please don't interact), also angsty and sad at parts. TW for hard drugs, take care of yourselves! This is loosely based off of my own experience, and I am not trying to glamorize it. Ily my dearest @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff for making sure it isnt shit xx

wc: 4k

part four

Picture a scene: flashing lights all around you, colors blinding as they move through the room, seemingly liquid. Music pounding in your head, almost as if it was trying to force its way into your body. People sweating, dancing up against strangers. You feel alive.

Matty dances next to you, throwing his hands up into the air. You can hear screams as the music changes, now playing Britney Spears’ ‘Toxic’. He wouldn't admit it if you held a gun to his head, but he loves this song. Your hips sway to the beat, and you can feel arms on your waist. It's not Matty. The fuck?

You didn't know this guy, but his hands were grabbing at you roughly like you were supposed to. His grin disgusted you. (Not so) politely shoving him off, you dance toward Matty, tapping his shoulder three separate times. That was code for ‘bathroom, now’. He nods, taking your hand and leading you towards the edge of the crowd. The sea of people thins out as you finally spot the glowing sign for the loo.

“You alright?” He asks as you enter the bathroom. The walls were covered in graffiti, stickers, and the occasional phone number. There wasn't the classic smell of piss and sweat, which is why you liked Sound. It was fairly clean. The sinks were made of metal, and so was everything else. The lights were dim, and the mirrors dirty, lipstick stains adorning the edges. You can hear the faint noise of toilets flushing in the background.

“I'm fine, I s’pose, just that guy was rubbing up against me all weird.” You fix your hair in the mirror, refreshing your eyeliner before passing it to Matty so he could do the same. You had taught him how to do it himself, saving you a load of time and effort whenever you were getting ready together. Tonight's color was red, both of you were wearing the same shade.

The stall door flings open as a girl stumbles out, almost falling before she caught herself on the hand dryer. Fixing her bra strap, she wiped the edges of her mouth clean before reaching into her small blue handbag. Out comes a small baggie with white powder in it. You immediately recognise it. Blow.

While you and Matty smoked copious amounts of weed, neither of you had ever tried anything harder. An exception was the occasional acid trip, and even that was a one off on Ross’ 18th birthday.

Both you and Matty watch her intently as she starts cutting up lines on the edge of the sink, not caring that both your eyes were on her. She takes out a £5 note, rolling it before snorting the line. Her hair is wild as she lifts her head back up, turning to the mirror to fix it.

“D’you fancy some, love? I have plenty for you,” she looks over to Matty, flashing him a smile “and your friend, as well.”

It takes you a split second to realize her statement was directed at you. Matty turns to make eye contact, before doing something you didn't expect.

He nods, taking a step towards the girl. You do the same. ‘If you're going to try it’, you thought, trying to rationalize, ‘who better than with Matty?’

She shakes more of the powder onto the sink, cutting two lines for the both of you, and one more for herself. You notice the card she uses is a school I.D. A high school I.D.

She hands you the rolled up note first, and for some reason, you feel calm. ‘This is fine’ you repeat in your head, before opening your mouth to speak.

“This is blow, yeah?” you ask, looking up at her from your position, which was currently hunched over the sink. It's cold, colder than it was.

“Yeah, clean shit too, don't worry,” she offers a genuine smile, stroking your hair with her long, black nails. You steal a glance at Matty, who was now sitting on the sink next to you, watching closely. You nod, turning back to the line of white powder in front of you

You take a deep breath before snorting the line. It burns as it travels through your nostrils, and you don't feel anything for a second.

And then, it hits you.

It hits you fast. Everything feels amplified, and you barely register as Matty snorts his. You feel good, euphoric even. Matty feels the same way, letting out a shout when he does lift his head from the sink.

The girl was long gone when you exited the bathroom and reentered the crowd. You danced with Matty, the music controlling your movements. Deciding to get a drink, you drag him to the bar. The bartender looks you up and down, before shaking his head. He knew you were on something, but that wasn't a rarity in clubs like Sound. Everyone was on something, so, fuck it! Why couldn't you do the same?

Matty orders for you. A french martini and a glass of Malbec for him. The bartender raised his eyebrows at his drink order. “Who orders wine at a club?” he shouts over the music. Matty rolls his eyes before responding “I do! Why, d’you fancy buying me a drink when you get off?” he winks at him provocatively before taking the drinks from the counter.

He hands you your drink, bringing his hand up to your face, wiping off the smudged makeup underneath your eyes. That's when you realize how hot it was. ‘Fucking hell’ you thought. ‘When did it get so hot? Jesus Christ, it's like I'm in a sauna’.

Matty had downed his glass of wine in two large gulps, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his your wine red jumper. You rake your eyes over his body, a thin layer of sweat shone on his forehead. His eyeliner was somehow still perfect.

He was perfect.

March, 2008 // two months earlier

The mid afternoon sun was beating down onto your skin. The blanket beneath you molding to the ridges of the earth, digging into your back. You were lying in a field, surrounded by daisies and dandelions blowing softly in the breeze, a half-empty packet of crisps on your left. Your arms were sprawled out to the side, with Matty lying peacefully on top of you.

Adam had situated himself on a flimsy fold up chair. He hated sitting on the ground with a burning passion. You had promptly forgiven him for leaving you to fend for yourselves that past weekend, seeing as he promised to pay club covers for a month as an apology. Just you though, seeing as Matty would have abused the ever living hell out of Hann’s wallet if given the chance.

George and Ross were in the lake located a few dozen meters from where you were sitting, having a swim. The weather was uncharacteristically nice given that you were in Great Britain, land of miserable weather, so the five of you had set out for a makeshift picnic at the last minute.

It wasnt aesthetically pleasing by any means, with fag packets litering the dirty old blanket Ross had found in an old closet. Ross’ beer bottles were lined up at the edge of the blanket. You grab a pack, presumably Georges, and light up. Marlboro golds, not your favorite, but they’ll do. Breathing in the smoke, you turn your head to get a better look at Matty, who was draped over you, using your chest as a pillow.

You wore Mattys sunflower shirt, unbuttoned, revealing a black sports bra underneath. He, in turn, wore one of your tops. Specifically, a lavender baby tee with the words ‘dump him’ scrawled across the chest in white glitter. Adam was dressed like a divorced dad, beige linen trousers paired with a Metallica band shirt. You laughed when you saw him, knowing he’d be sweating in under an hour wearing that.

Soft music played in the background, the speaker having been lost underneath the pile of Ross and George's clothes. The air smelled of summer, even if it was only March. You spot the wine bottle in Mattys hand as he tilted his head up, taking a drink. You tap him on the arm, and he hands you the bottle.

White wine? Matty rarely drank white wine. You brushed it off, it was probably just the cheapest thing at the store. Matty loved expensive red wine, but did not have the money to pay for it, always settling for the bottle with the lowest price tag. Your attention is drawn to George screaming incoherent curses at Ross for throwing a rock at him. Absolute knobheads.

“D’you reckon we need sunscreen? I don't wanna age my skin anymore than it already has.” he asked, his fingers lingering on his face. His skin was perfect, not a single blemish tarnishing it. “I dunno, I don't think we need to. It's not that hot.” you answer, looking around you. “It's not looking like we have any anyway” you add.

You could feel Mattys' breath on you, ghosting over your chest. His legs moved, brushing against yours. You were suddenly very aware of the fact he was laying on top of you. It made you feel hot, and not because of the sun.

He rolled on top of you, now straddling your legs. He was clearly drunk, slurring his words. His eyes stared into yours with such an intensity, you would've thought he was trying to read your mind. His face was bare, but the glitter from last night's adventures still stained his face, giving him a slight shine.

A smile crept onto his face as he brushed his hair out of his face. The blonde highlights had slightly grown out by now, and you made a mental note to ask him if he wanted you to do his roots.

“Didnt you want to cut my hair?” He asked, and you recognised that look in his eye. Excitement. He jumps up, crawling to get his bag.

“I brought a pair of scissors, d’you wanna cut it now?” He held up pink kitchen scissors, handing them to you as you moved to a sitting position.

“Are you sure? These are not meant for ha-” “I don't careee, just do it!” he slurred, cutting you off and settling between your crossed legs. He turns and looks at you expectantly, and you sigh in defeat.

You try your best, snipping away at his hair randomly. Cutting layers into his hair, you try to make the strands around his face shorter. He giggles as it tickles his face, brushing it off his skin. The sun made him appear as if he were glowing, painting him in an orange hue. Trying not to cut it too short, you tug at it to get a good idea of the length.

A soft groan escapes Mattys mouth, and he tries to pass it off as a cough, avoiding your gaze. A few minutes later, you tug at it again. A little experiment , if you will. This time, the noise is slightly clearer, and his whole body twitches. He busies himself with the bottle of wine in his hands, inspecting the label.

He admires your work in a little compact mirror you had found in your bag. “So.. do you like it? Or have I completely fucked your hair?” you ask, watching his reflection. Matty grins, slamming the mirror shut.

“I love it! The layers make me look hot, so you did your job right!” He pulled you in for a hug, kissing all over your face: He was obviously drunker than you thought.

You lay back on your elbows, closing your eyes, letting the sun shine onto your skin. This was nice. You felt truly alive.

—---------------------------------------------------------

Skin against skin, soft moans filled the room. You didn't even know who they belonged to. Desire took over your bodies like a foreign force. The room was dark, the only light coming from the streetlamp just outside, illuminating the space.

“Fuck- can I?” hands trailed down your chest, toying with the buttons of your shirt. You nod frantically, smashing his lips back against yours. You find his hair, pulling slightly as he lets out a pathetic whimper. You drink in the noise as if it was the very essence of life, tugging even harder at the curls. Curls. Matty.

“Mmh- ah, fuck-” You can feel him against your thigh. You can feel Matty grinding against you. The thought makes your head spin, and you throw your head back, your hair splayed over the baby blue pillows. Mattys pillows.

“You're so- you’re so beautiful, just let me- i’ll-” he cuts himself off, trailing his lips down your jaw, leaving searing, hot kisses in his wake. His mouth makes contact with your collarbone, biting down. You hiss, your nails digging into his scalp. He groans. Matty

His rough hands rub the tattoo on your hip, you feel his rough calluses. You pull his hair, making him look at you. Your eyes rake over his face, the glitter around his eyes shimmering in the faint light. His hand comes up to push your shirt up, the material bunching up where his mouth had just been. You make eye contact again.

He grins before licking one long stripe along the expanse of your ribcage, letting out an obscene moan as he did. He was putting on a show, for you. The noise goes straight to your core.

His fingers snap the elastic of your black underwear, making you jump. A laugh. Teeth graze your hip bone, tracing the tattoo. You can feel him slipping the lace down your thighs, licking and sucking lower, lower, lower…

You jolt awake suddenly, hot sweat running down your back. You turn to look at the time. 2:53am.

What the fuck was that?

You close your eyes, the dream replaying in your head. Lips, your lips and his. Teeth, kisses down your neck, Matty, Matty, Matty-

You stop yourself, shoving your face into a pillow. This can't be happening. This wasn't real. This was all hallucination and you didn't just have a wet dream involving your best mate.

Letting out a groan, you lay back down facing the wall. You desperately, desperately needed a good lay. If it had come to you having fucking dreams about Matty of all people, you knew it was time to find a guy and just shag him. That would solve your little predicament, you were sure of it.

—------------------------------------------------------------

Admiring yourself in the mirror, you hike the ruched material of your dress up even further. Jewelry covered you from head to toe, complimenting the details of your bag perfectly. Hair done up in curls, you knew you were ready.

You were going out. Alone.

The heel of your shoe clicked nervously against the pavement as you queued, giving the bouncer, James, a nod as he waved you through. “No Matty today?” he questioned, referring to the fact that you were alone.

“Yeah, I'm out alone tonight. Matty is… sick. The flu.” you lie through your teeth, not wanting to disclose the real reason behind your solo-mission. The plan was to find a guy, any guy, and forget about that godforsaken dream.

The music was loud, even louder than usual, and you were stone cold sober. Not good.

Making your way to the bar, you order your usual, a french martini. Tobias, the bartender, handed your drink, and you close out. You didn't want to get hammered tonight.

Your fingers drum along to the beat as you sip your drink, scanning the crowd. There weren't many people dancing, seeing as it was a Sunday night. Most had work in the morning, so going out wasn't an option. He had asked you if you really didn't want anything else, even offering you a drink in the house. You politely decline with a shake of your head, assuring him it was alright.

Suddenly, a tall man appeared in your peripheral vision. You had seen him a few times before, wandering about, flirting with the female waitresses. Blonde hair, blue eyes. The complete opposite of Matty. His arm rested against the bar, and you could see him flexing his muscles. On purpose. Jesus.

He strolled up to you with an air of confidence. Turning to Tobias, he asked him what your drink was. “A french martini,” he answered, looking you up and down “and she's only had one the entire night.” The man laughs, “Well that wont do! Let me buy you a drink sweetheart, on me.”

You nod, turning to face him. A smile makes its way onto your lips. Perfect .

He introduces himself as David. He works an office job down the road, something something marketing. You didn't really listen to him, only laughing when he paused, expecting it

He seemed solid, and he was 19, so not too old. You really didn't want to deal with another Phillip situation. He had bought you three, quite pricey, drinks, and you knew he wanted more.

He eventually asked if you wanted to come back to his place for some wine. You agreed, letting yourself be led out of the club by your wrist. James winked at you knowingly as you left.

He had a silver Toyota, the interior a cream leather. It was a big difference to Hann’s beaten up red Kia, but you weren't complaining. He was nice enough, opening the car door for you.

The inside of his flat reeked of sickly sweet vanilla and cheap cologne. He opened a bottle of wine for the both of you, pouring two glasses. The conversion was mundane, but he was nice enough. You had switched your phone off, not wanting anything to distract you from your mission. He had made a move to sit next to you, his hand trailing up your thigh, inching higher with every word he uttered.

His mouth was against your ear, whispering sweet nothings into it, his other hand finding your chest, pushing you down onto the sofa. You let him move you, twist you as he pleased. It didn't mean anything to you, you just needed to get Matty out of your head. Matty.

His hands were soft, like he moisturized them regularly. You could feel his lips on your chest, leaving bite marks and kisses, but you didn't feel anything. Closing your eyes, you decide to let him do all of the work. You had even worn your only pair of lace underwear, a black number with a little bow on the front of the matching bra. The same pair you had worn in the dream.

You mentally curse yourself, kissing David deeper, harder than you did before. Forget, forget, forget.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

He wasn't the worst, but at least he tried. You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Laying on his (quite expensive looking) leather couch, you watch him as he gets dressed. He asks you if you need anything, and you answer with a shake of your head. You just wanted to leave.

A phone buzzes, and you quickly realize it's yours. You pick it up, the screen lighting up. 3 missed calls from Matty, and 4 texts from him as well.

// Where r you? I’m at your window.

// Are you well?

// Answer me for fucks sake, dont do this.

// I hope you’ve died or smth, you’re well fucking me off.

You sigh, clicking the call button. It rings for a split second before Matty picks up.

“Now you decide to ring me back? I thought you’d been picked up by a sex trafficker or something. Fuck you, honest,” his voice sounded worried, even tired, if you ignored the nature of his words.

“Sorry mate, I was out.” You answer curtly, trying to keep your voice steady. Your fingers tap against the glass of the coffee table, and you hear Matty inhale sharply.

“Out where? And why did it take me three calls and four messages to get a ring back?” he sounded more aggressive this time, and you could tell he had gotten up from wherever he was sitting. This pissed you off. Why does he have the right to know where you are, it didn’t concern him in the slightest, and he wasn't your father. You told him as much.

“I was out, alright? I'm at David's place right now, and I'll be at yours in an hour, cool?” A moment of silence passes between you two before Matty spits out. “Whos the fuck is David?” The way he said his name made it sound like you had shagged his worst enemy, not some random guy.

“He's just a bloke I met at Sound, I went to his place. D’you want me over or should I fuck off home?” The second option was just a courtesy, you were sure he’d want you over. You hadn’t seen each other since Friday.

“Nah, it's alright, go home.” His voice sounded cold, unfeeling. A shudder made its way up your spine. He didn't sound like himself at all. What the fuck? “I have erm.. work to catch up on. You understand.” No you didnt fucking understand.

You open your mouth to protest, but are rudely interrupted by a faint noise. The dial tone. Matty had hung up on you. Your mouth let out a gasp in disbelief. Fuck him. Fuck him all the way.

You gather your things. While trying to find your shoes, David comes back into the room. You tell him you need to leave, and he tries to kiss you goodbye. It feels wrong.

Deciding to walk barefoot, you do the walk of shame at 1 in the morning. Heels in one hand, your purse in the other, you trudge down the pavement. You feel dirty, like you did something inherently wrong.

Cars whizz by you, and you hear sirens in the background. It's cold, and you can feel goosebumps forming on your skin in the soft breeze. Feeling around for your cigarettes, you come across something small towards the bottom of your purse. You pull it out, your eyes widening at the sight. The lighter. Mattys lighter.

The white letters on the side point and laugh at you. You can hear it. It was even more chipped than it was that night, how did it still work? M.H. Matty.

In a fit of rage you chucked the lighter onto the ground in front of you. It splinters off, the metal top flying off onto the road. A car drives over it. You were angry. Angry at yourself for even going out alone. For going home with fucking David. You were angry at Matty for being angry at you. You didn't even understand why, but the mere fact he had hung up on you made your blood boil.

The lighter was now in pieces beneath your feet. The white letters, illegible. Feeling powerful, you decide to kick the rest of the plastic off onto the road, hoping a giant truck would run it over. You wanted Matty at your feet like this, pathetic and powerless. You needed him like this, to show him he can't just hang up on you like you're nothing.

The mental image of Matty at your feet made warmth spread throughout your body. On his knees, looking up at you with glassy, glitter framed eyes. You wanted to take his beautiful hair and weave it between your fingers, forcing him to look up at you. You wanted to hear the pathetic whimpers escape his mouth, just like they did in your dream.

You feel breathless, staring at the wet pavement where the lighter once was. You keep walking.

#i like this one alot #angst #smut??#smut #the 1975 #matty healy #ross macdonald #adam hann #george daniel #matty the 1975 #drive like i do #matty healy x you #matty healy angst #matty healy smut #fluff?#sort of i guess

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monstrousgourmandizingcats · 4 months

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ik the post was from like a week ago but would like to hear your thoughts on jackie and the prescription drug thing because it really isnt discussed!

Absolutely. Jackie has prooooblems and I really wish they were more openly talked about in the fandom.

So there are at least three references to Jackie abusing prescription drugs in canon. I forget what the third is (I might be misremembering it but I'm pretty sure it's there), but the first two are in "Pilot" and "Blood Hive". The reason why Shauna is asleep during the flight is that Jackie has given her Valium, a benzo (its generic name is diazepam) that in the 70s through 90s was commonly prescribed for anxiety and to an extent still is. What's remarkable about this is the casual way everyone involved treats it; this is consistent in how Shauna and Jackie themselves talk about Jackie's drug use, but the scene also establishes that even Jackie's mother doesn't seem to see any need to monitor her teenage daughter's access to her pills. As Jackie puts it, "Swiped these from my mom's medicine cabinet. Valium. She's got, like, a never-ending supply, so I doubt she'll even notice."

A series of questions already arises here, all of which the show is fascinatingly uninterested in answering, possibly because the screenwriters share Shauna and Jackie's flippant attitude (which is generational, as I'll discuss below) but, I think, likely also because what's implied about the Taylor household here is more disturbing if it's not spelled out. Why does Mrs. Taylor have that much of a med lying around at all times? Has Jackie taken the Valium before? If so, why and how often? (Does she, perhaps, use it to get through sex acts with Jeff?)

The second time this comes up is in the scene in which Shauna and Jackie are discussing their respective Wilderness skills as Shauna butchers one of Nat and Travis's first quarries. Almost everyone in the fandom has favorite bits of this scene, which is full of fantastic Shaunajackie lines and moments, so it's surprising to me that this isn't discussed more, but again, the breathtakingly casual delivery probably goes some way towards distracting the viewer from what's actually being communicated. (It could also be that the line in question here comes immediately before "Wowza, Shipman," which understandably steals the show):

Shauna: Remember when Kiffy Schumacher broke her arm right before we were supposed to go to Whipsplash River, and you told her that if she shared her Percocet, we'd all crash bingo at the Elks Lodge instead? Jackie: Wait. Is this a pep talk? Wowza, Shipman. Wow, that is so not your style.

Uh. Girls? You okay there? "Poppin' Percs" is something Kendrick Lamar accused Drake of earlier this month. The company that makes this drug is currently being pounded in court by the Attorneys General of Ohio, Mississippi, Missouri, New York, and possibly other states too since the last time I checked. You're talking about like it's Pez.

Percocet is a mixture of oxycodone, which is an opioid, and paracetamol, which is a common over-the-counter painkiller (it's called acetaminophen in the US and a few other countries; it's the active ingredient in Tylenol and Panadol). Unlike Valium, oxy is something I've been on in the past--I, like Kiffy Schumacher, had a badly fucked-up arm a few years ago--so I can speak to how it's currently treated in American medical culture. You're given a very small amount of it at once, you pace yourself taking it and alternate it with over-the-counter painkillers unless absolutely necessary, and if you have any left over when you decide you no longer need it, which I did, you surrender whatever pills you still have on you to the police. I know that the current widely accepted view on drug control is that it's wildly overdone in the US, and I agree with that for the most part, but in this case the tight controls on this sort of painkiller are a regulation that was written in blood. And the opioid epidemic is still ongoing; in fact, in some ways it's worse, since people are using black-market opioids now that are even more dangerous than oxy and its ilk.

I do want to stress that Jackie's pattern of drug use isn't unusual for a teenager; in fact, it's pretty classic. "Adolescents....most commonly reported receiving prescription[s] for free from a friend or relative, although significant proportions of adolescents also used their own prescriptions, purchased drugs from a dealer, or took them from friends or family without asking." (The article linked cites data taken in 2006, when the prescription drug abuse epidemic on whose upward slope Jackie lives had plateaued.) I also want to clarify that the cavalier attitude Shauna and Jackie have towards prescription drugs isn't unique to this category of substances; teenagers in the 1990s were much more blasé about controlled substances in general than they are today, and adolescent prescription drug abuse has declined less than most other categories:

(Note the especially massive drop-off in adolescent cigarette use after the turn of the millennium. Lottie in her kinderwhore-meets-Empire Records party outfit diffidently holding a cig is very much an image from the past these days. And yet this isn't entirely a success story; adolescents who are still engaging in substance abuse are OD'ing a lot more than they were thirty years ago.)

I don't really have a conclusion here, because I just want to encourage the fandom to discuss this aspect of Jackie's character, not necessarily to adopt any particular narrativization or interpretation of it. This, then, is the basics on Jackie and prescription drugs. Poor girl.

#yellowjackets #jackie taylor #meta #tw drugs #anonymous #cold girl closeted girl living dead girl

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desire-mona · 6 months

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this most definitely isnt an original thought and i've probably heard it on a podcast before but. i am so married to todd's sweaty tooth madman poem being a metaphor for not accepting being gay.

so here's me picking the whole thing apart (and not proofreading anything)

so starting with

the sweaty toothed madman of course being walt whitman, who we all know is (at least rumoured to be) gay. now the interpretation of whitman being a metaphor for todd's sexuality is nothing new, but i'd like to expand on it.

"i close my eyes and this image floats beside me"

i see this as any moment todd has to himself, no matter where he is, he is reminded whitman/ the fact that he's gay. the specific usage of closing your eyes to mean that the image/ reminder is always there, always following. i see the use of the words "beside me" in a couple different ways. either to suggest that the reminder is just out of view, being pushed away just enough to not be the main focus and more something you see in your peripheral, or in a 3rd person perspective, seeing todd and the imagery of walt beside eachother, coinciding with eachother. i could see both interpretations working equally as well, or even comined.

"the sweaty-toothed madman with a stare that pounds my brain"

THIS LINE. i loooove his use of sweaty toothed!!!!!

if you're not sure what sweaty toothed means, it just kinda means ur teeth r. wet. drooly mouth. i see this madman being sweaty toothed to mean that he's "hungry", not literally, but more desiring something. this being truth, which i'll get into later.

the stare that pounds my brain. oh man. ok so obviously this means that the image/ thought is intimidating, terrifying, threatening. the implication that todd being gay is as much of a threat to his life/ wellbeing as a madman that has it out for him, both ideas causing him an insane amount of stress.

this line is fairly simple to me, the reminder goes from something that terrifies you but ultimately can go unacknowledged, to a constant, overbearing thought that suffocates you enough that you HAVE to face it in some way or another. todd is facing it fearfully, letting it take control of him and how he acts rather than tackling the idea himself. he is defenseless against this part of him

truth (ur gay)

todd thinkin this truth will leave him unsatisfied in life :-( not only in the love sense tho! with his family too, if they find out god forbid, theyll surely view him differently and cast him off even farther than they already do. i also like to think this is him lowkey complaining that the blankets at welton are too small.

this also, devastatingly enough, reminds me of the bit from rocketman where elton comes out to his mom.

clip from rocketman (2019)

and he's mumbling. he's mumbling! this truth is still cloudy, not full realised, still being pushed away. whitman wants the truth, todd wants the truth, but he's still not ready, everything's still uncertain. this uncertain truth could also pertain to todd's feelings toward neil specifically, but i dont think that was the intention. todd does exist as his own person!

this ones simple again. you can fight off your feelings and sexuality all you want but it still wont really lead you anywhere you wanna be. you either end up marrying someone you dont love (women), or you end up alone. also the heavy emphasis on physical violence toward the Truth Blanket could be a metaphor for the physical danger todd would be in if anyone found out, but im not hellbent on that idea.

god. "from the moment we enter crying, to the moment we leave dying," is a BEAUTIFUL way to convey "your entire life" todd you have such a way with words. anyway. i take this as something like. this is something you're born with and cant change, todd was born gay, obviously, and it will never go away with any amount of effort. hence the wailing, crying, and screaming.

also i view the specific line of "it will just cover your face" in a couple different ways. either to mean this truth will suffocate you no matter what you do, or this truth will leave you needing to hide major parts of yourself from the world.

this got a bit repetitive, i apologise. but i still have more to say.

some parts of this poem i find to be a bit too wordy to have been come up with on the spot. do i think todd is talented enough to do so? absolutely! but i just dont think that's the case. i have no doubt in my mind that a LOT of what he said in front of the class was either already on his mind, or was written down beforehand but eventually scrapped.

specifics i have in mind are the concepts of a sweaty toothed madman and a blanket that leaves your feet cold. i dont think this sweaty toothed madman was written specifically with whitman in mind, i think it was just a vessel for his anxiety generally. but the blanket i just KNOW was thought out and written down with the intention to like. be a metaphor for being unsatisfied.

and that only makes the class laughing at that line that much worse, no wonder he wanted to stop! not only was todd incredibly brave for continuing after, but keating was unimaginably quick to get the focus back to the poem. he knew that metaphor meant something to todd, and choosing to expand on that was actually an amazing way to drive that home.

either way, todd's far more brave than i ever could be. i'd be shitting myself up there.

also if u disagree with any of these points are wanna add anything then TELL MEEEE!!! art is anything but subjective and i looove seeing how you guys view things like this.

#desire mona #once again. i am todd anderson #and keating #what a nightmare kin combo actually #dead poets society #media #todd anderson #anderperry #banger

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triptychofvoids · 20 days

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what is your favorite “strange” biology fact? Just curious, I don’t really know a whole lot about biology but (give or take) it would be helpful to learn it. (also I just really like collecting semi-useful information) danke

this has been sitting in the askbox for quite a while just because i have been so indecisive on how to answer it heh i have plenty of biology facts, but i am not sure which ones you would consider to be strange!

one fact i do consider rather interesting is why humans have periods while many other animals do not! most other mammals will reabsorb those tissues back into their body instead of expelling them in what is called an estrous cycle, whereas humans have overt menstruation. a large amount of this is due to the endometrium, both due to how it works as well as the fact that this tissue cannot really be reabsorbed into the body. isnt that interesting? interesting and very frustrating if you have to deal with it

and my second fact that i was considering sharing is a little less extensive, but ive always found the size of neuron cells to be rather interesting! you generally consider cells to be very small, but neuron cells can be actually be rather large, especially in length. in fact, there is a nerve cell in your body the acons of which are approximately one meter long! ive always found that to be interesting too

#the doc is in #welcome to medics fun fact corner!

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turretistrying · 2 years

Text

The Caged Bird and the Chased Mouse

Chapter 1: The Bird Gains Company

What happens to a poor isekai’d player when they forgot to play the Sumeru Main Quests before being transported into the wonderful world of Tevyat, only to be chased down for being a supposed ‘Imposter’? Well they end up in Sumeru with next to no idea of what’s to come next or what to expect and ends up with youngest of the Archons.

A/N: woah you guys seemed to like the,,, lets call it the prologue,, despite me not being a huge writer ehe! That prologue got more than most of my art (which you should check out heheh self-promotion) BTW: Nahida isnt a yandere, it might come off as so, its not supposed to. No matter how old she may be in canon she looks like a baby and is my baby that I will protect.

No warnings this part!

Nahida was surprised when she saw someone who wasn’t a Sage or related coming into the sanctuary.

Before the mysterious person came in she was simply taking a nap to escape her true reality of being contained in her prison, not expecting anyone to come through that day as the sages were needed elsewhere for what they seemed to be planning. The creak of the door woke her from her soft slumber to look at the commotion, it was a figure dressed in a dark cloak that covered almost everything but their footwear. It looked like they were in a rush and exhausted, gasping for air as they pushed their whole body against the door to close it as soon as possible. Then came what Nahida assumed was the guards trying to get in but didn’t seem to be able to get through.

The person turned around and looked up, locking eyes with Nahida. She was taken aback with how… Familiar, the person was, as if she knew them already, similar to have she felt when thinking of Rukkadevata. Nahida was unwilling to break eye contact, as if she broke it they would disappear.

They slowly made their way to the middle, apprehensive but concerned. When they got to the middle they climbed over the flower structure and stood up, reaching their hand up to Nahida. She took a second to understand but eventually pressed her own small hand to the floor of the cage, even thought they couldn’t touch each other because of the height and the prison, they both felt comforted by the gesture.

They lowered their arm and started to lower their whole body to sit down. Once sat down they stretched and laid down despite the odd shape of the flower. Nahida kept her hand on the floor, and watched them.

She knew whatever was keeping the door closed wasn’t going to last, and she didn’t want you to be taken away and likely imprisoned, like her…

Nahida whispered to your exhausted body “Everything will be okay, I’ll make sure of it.”

Your eyes closed.

As you fell asleep Nahida reached out, with her minuscule amount of power she had, to your unconscious body. The green chains slowly and gently wrapped around your body, with it flickering in and out of existence as each moment passed. She was exerting herself to bring you into her prison, at least she’d be able to protect you and make sure the sages don’t do anything to you while you were in it. You were getting closer and closer to the walls, and eventually, started to phase into it, with the chains dissipating into green pixels when their job was done. Nahida pulled you the rest of the way in, and collapsed on your body, her head lying on your chest.

She was so incredibly tired from that feat, and wanted to truly sleep and not just nap. She wrapped her arms around you and dozed off.

Your arms wrapped around her in your sleep.

Two lonely beings, comforted by each other.

The Archon of Wisdom and The Creator.

The caged bird and the poor poor chased mouse.

————————————————————————-

Out side the door, dozen of guards stand confused. Vines and flowers have twisted and twined together, blocking the door entirely making it next to impossible to get in without use of an axe. Seeming growing out of nowhere with no time at all.

_________________________________

Hey! How’d you like this technically first chapter? I know it’s shorter than the first I did, but I wanted it entirely in 3rd person and not have to swap and disrupt the flow of things ya’know?

As I said at the top, this is a platonic thing, please please PLEASE for the love of god don’t interpret this as romantic. I will disclose if something is ‘romantic’ (but like the SAGAU au is infamous for it’s yanderes so take that with a grain of salt) and this isnt it, the children are pure because they are my babies. ESPECIALLY Nahida.

If your name is crossed out then it means I couldn’t tag you im sorry :(

Taglist: @no-name-omo @moosieman123456

#genshin impact #au #genshin sagau #genshin fanfic #genshin nahida #genshin kusanali #genshin impact sagau #imposter sagau #Sagau #idk what im doing #Im not a writer #but im trying #no art this time sorry

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5eraphim · 1 year

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Oof sorry for another one but can you do something where engi and you have your first date together at his house, but you have a tiny bit of an odd feeling about him. He's very sweet, but almost overly nice. He offers to make dinner for you and you say yes, but what you don't know is that he put aphrodisiacs in your food.

These prompts were so fire! So freaking fun to write for, thank you for these!!! I feel like ever since I've been writing short stories I've wanted to write a "you don't love me, you love how being loved make you feel" confrontation between reader and their yandere- very cathartic to finally get that scene out of my head and into a finished work!

Title: Birthday Cake

Rating: X (MINORS DNI, YOU KNOW THIS ISNT FOR YOU)

Content Warnings: MAJOR daddy kink, dub-con, spanking, aphrodisiacs, yandere, toxic relationship, forced intimacy, fingering, possessiveness

Word Count: 7k

MASTER LIST

TIP JAR

"In my dreams I am kissing your mouth and you're whispering 'where have you been?' I say, 'I've been lost but I'm here now. You're the only person who has wver been able to find me.'" unknown title, Sue Zhao

You should've known better than to give in to the kindness of strangers. Well, perhaps not strangers, but the excessive displays of affection from your teammate Engie had long since worn out their novelty. You'd only been a member of the team for a few months yet, ever since then, Engie'd taken a certain special liking to you, something which bothered you right away. It wasn't your style to accept being fussed over by anyone, but no matter how you tried to politely push him away, he never seemed to take the hint.

What really surprised you was his latest act of kindness, inviting you to his place to share a meal together. A birthday dinner, his treat. You knew you never told him your birthday or anyone else for that matter, and you couldn't even guess how he found out or how long he'd known, and honestly, you weren't sure you wanted to know. You initially tried to politely decline, planning to make up some lie about plans to call family after work to celebrate. But he was stubborn, absolutely refusing to take no for an answer.

Something about his forwardness bothered you, but still, there were worse ways to spend a birthday, and you agreed to meet up at his place later that night. Giving you a comfortable amount of time to get cleaned up and changed out of your work clothes before you found yourself at the address he provided you earlier. Knocking at the door, you tried to ignore your rising anxieties and let yourself believe Engie was your friend and you had no reason to be so skittish. Perhaps a little too friendly sometimes, but not someone who would ever hurt you.

Engie held the door open for you as you entered, leading you through the kitchen; the smell of well-seasoned food cooking on the stovetop and roasting in the oven overtook you before you entered. While you'd never actually stepped foot in Engie's home, it looked exactly how you'd imagined. A cozy rustic kitchen with a wood stove, gingham-printed curtains and tablecloth, and a grand wooden table in the center, modestly set for two. You could hear the lazy strumming of some folk song on the small radio on the dark wood of the kitchen counter over the crackling of the low fire burning in the furnace on the other side of the room. Engie lived alone, but you knew he regularly invited family over; the dinner table alone could easily sit 10, but something about the sight of the massive table set for only two made it look so lonely, and you couldn't help but imagine how empty it must look set for only one as Engie was no doubt used to.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Engie's eyes following you as you made your way inside, and you wondered when was the last time he'd had non-blood-related company over. While you were still a bit uncomfortable with his forwardness, you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt and believe he was just nervous, and you had no reason to feel uncomfortable around him. He was your friend, an ally, surely not one who would mean you any harm.

You sat at one of the seats set for dinner, watching as he prepared two plates. Before he even opened the oven, the smell of Texan comfort food hung heavy in the kitchen and dining room. He kept the dishes he'd made in the oven to keep warm until you showed up, and judging by the considerable pile of dirty bowls and utensils piled by the sink, you reckoned he must've spent hours cooking. Watching from the table, you heard Engie humming as he pulled out a few deep dish bowls, unlidding them before loading up the two plates. He piled on roasted vegetables, mashed potatoes, and thick cuts of meat you couldn't quite identify coated in a rich dark sauce, which were just the first things you noticed him dishing.

He said to you from over his shoulder, "There's biscuits on the table for you if you need something to nibble while you're waiting." Like you were even that hungry. But if the biscuits were half as appetizing as what he was dishing out, you were certainly tempted. You pulled one from the cloth-covered basket in the center of the table and bit into the still-warm biscuit, watching him approaching with two full plates in hand.

"I made sweet tea fresh this morning; care for a glass?" Before you could say yes, he was already turning back around to fetch the pitcher from the fridge.

"You really pulled out all the stops tonight, huh?" You were joking, though simultaneously were genuinely overwhelmed by his generosity. He just chuckled, and you thought you heard him muttering something under his breath along the lines of, "Anything for you."

For a few minutes, you chatted politely, listening to the radio, enjoying the home-cooked meal, and feeling the stress of the day melting away as you genuinely enjoyed the taste of his cooking.

"You made this all yourself?"

"Sure did! But it's all mamma's old recipes. You oughtta be thankin' her... How'd I do?" He smiled and tried to look modest, but the look in his eyes said, "I know it's perfect."

"It's amazing; she must've taught you well." You saw a light blush coloring his cheeks and the tips of his ears as he looked down with a big smile. You hadn't expected he would get so flustered over such a simple statement. Though now that you thought about it, Engie was a bit friendlier this evening than normal, which for him was saying something. Perhaps it was for the best you tried to leave now before he got too carried away. Pulling away from the table slightly, you pushed your plate forward.

"Well, this has been wonderful, but I've had enough. Thank you so much for all this; you're so sweet." To your surprise, Engie's smile faltered for just a moment.

"You didn't finish…" He didn't look mad, but his face didn't entirely mask his disappointment.

"It's been a long day, Engie, but I'm about ready to crawl into bed… You aren't upset, are you?"

He perked right up after you said, "Aw shucks, of course not! I understand! I'm not upset. I just hoped I'd get the chance to give you one last thing."

Engie stood from his chair before you could ask what he meant by this, pulling something from the fridge, hiding it close to his chest, and out of sight from you. While you didn't know exactly what he was hiding, you consoled yourself by acknowledging, at least, whatever it was; it must've been quite small. He fidgeted with the thing for a moment before shutting the door to the fridge.

Engie smiled sheepishly, turning around, holding on to a little teacup saucer holding a miniature cupcake so small it could fit in the palm of your hand. A single little yellow birthday candle flickering on top.

"Engie, I can't accept this-'' You forced a nervous laugh while you felt guilty for letting him spoil you with dinner earlier; the cupcake made you feel even worse.

"Sure I did; it's your birthday, ain't it?" He drew closer, depositing the little treat before you as the candle continued to burn, little trails of wax dripping down the sides. You were conflicted, feeling a combination of obligation to accept the gift he'd been saving for last and not wanting to take anything more from Engie after he'd done so much already. While you admittedly didn't eat too much of the dinner he prepared, just enough to show gratitude for his efforts and to keep him from noticing how you kept cutting up the food into tiny pieces, pushing them around on your plate. While you felt bad about wasting the food, you knew you'd be sick if you tried to force yourself to eat it all.

There was no way you could get away with doing that with this. But you had to admit, it was pretty cute, and you didn't have the heart to turn him down now that that cupcake was right under your nose. Closing your eyes briefly, you inhaled before blowing out the candle, wishing silently to yourself out of this charmingly claustrophobic kitchen as fast as possible. Pulling the candle from the top of the cupcake, you held it in your hand for a moment before taking a bite.

You could've sworn you felt an oddness in the cake's texture for a split second when you swallowed. The cake was denser than you expected but tasted just as appetizing as it looked; you finished the tiny cake in a few bites.

Engie smiled warmly, reaching over and squeezing your shoulder, "Happy birthday, buddy'."

You were about to say something when you felt a bizarre warm feeling in the pit of your stomach, not unpleasant, just a little tingly. You took a deep breath, repositioning yourself in your seat, feeling a bit hot under the collar out of nowhere. Clearing your throat, you thought maybe the cupcake went down wrong, and there was a perfectly valid reason you felt so heated out of nowhere, but internally you felt a twinge of panic.

If this were a sudden sickness, it was like nothing you'd felt before. You tried your hardest to keep composure, telling yourself this was all in your head, there's no way you were genuinely so suddenly weak out of nowhere, but your body wouldn't listen. Once again, you found yourself fidgeting in your seat, unable to find a comfortable position. So distracted by the warmth spreading from deep in your gut through the rest of your body you almost didn't notice how heavy your head felt or the dryness in your mouth. Placing both elbows on the table, you clasped your hands together, resting your head on top of your fingers to keep yourself from losing balance.

Fortunately, Engie didn't seem to mind, or maybe didn't even notice, how quiet you were as he cleaned up the kitchen, humming softly to himself along with the radio. You heard his footsteps close behind.

"I'll get this out of your way."

You cleared your throat again, nodding a silent "thank you" as he took the saucer away. While you knew there was something a little off about the taste of the cake, you couldn't put your finger on what.

Forcing yourself to take another steady breath, you scooted back in your chair a little bit to press your back harder against the back of the chair, rolling out your neck slightly as you started panting. Much to your dismay, however, this did nothing to extinguish the odd warm sensation in your gut, which felt like it was spreading so quickly to spite you. Thankfully, due to the room's low light, there was no way Engie could see the way your face had begun to heat up. You didn't know if you were blushing because of the new found warm feeling between your legs, the strain of trying to appear emotionless and unbothered, or the embarrassment of being caught in such a situation in the first place, or likely an unbearable combination of the three.

You couldn't stop fidgeting, unclasping your hands to grip the chair's armrests as you backed up a little harder into your seat. Under the table, your legs, already crossed, began to squeeze a little tighter together, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to suppress a sound of frustration as you felt the skin of your breasts and nipples tingle a little, becoming more sensitive on account of whatever the hell it was going on inside your body."No, no, not the body- just in your head. It's all in your head; just take a few deep breaths, hug him goodbye, and you'll be out in no time. you've got this." You could feel your hands white-knuckling your chair's armrests as your head dipped forwards, eyes shutting as you tried to maintain composure.

By now, your breathing had become rapid, and while you knew it was best to keep your head back to let in as much oxygen as you could, you no longer had that kind of inner strength. The best you could do now was pant as quietly as possible as that awful warmth intensified deep inside. You were scared, wondering what the hell had gotten into you, but to a lesser extent didn't care and wanted nothing but to grind your legs together even harder or slip a hand between your legs. To do something- anything, to satisfy the awful neediness between your legs. There was no denying it now; you were wet for sure.

This was agony. Your jeans felt a size too tight, the cotton denim like sandpaper against your legs, chafing your poor sensitive skin, to say nothing of the inseam of your jeans you were painfully aware of against your clit. Swallowing hard, had no idea you'd been salivating so notably. While the intensity of your arousal began to plateau, focusing on anything else like this was impossible.

Before now, you tried to keep your eyes open, spotting against random objects you could see in the room to try and keep yourself grounded, but by now, your eyes were fluttering and shut against your will, and the room seemed to spin when you tried to focus on anything. The feeling of Engie's hand suddenly touching your shoulder, his fingers barely making contact, caused you to jolt fully upright in alarm.

You had no idea how he got back to you so fast, nor how long he'd been standing over you like that, but you were rendered functionally speechless in surprise, looking up with him wide-eyed, your neck still bent forward slightly, unable to support the full weight of your head, forcing you to turn your face to make eye contact, feeling pathetic as he looked down at you from this position.

"Hey, did ya hear me? Are you feeling alright? You're looking a little, uh… warm." It was hard not to cringe hearing him speak like that. Engie could sense you were extremely uncomfortable, but you silently prayed he just thought you were feeling ill. Trying desperately to convince yourself he couldn't detect your sudden unexplainable arousal. He knew something was happening with you, and it was humiliating to hear him trying to be so polite about it.

You managed to lean away from his touch; you tried to force yourself to straighten back up in your chair and were about to answer when a spontaneous throb of arousal caused you to tense up and shrink into yourself. Engie had to grab both your shoulders to keep you steady and prevent your head from crashing forward into the table. Despite this, you tried to wriggle away again but couldn't manage to shake his hold on you.

You can hear him saying your name, his voice heavy with worry, only making you feel sicker. But your head felt too fuzzy to speak, no matter how hard you try to respond. Your mouth won't work, and you were forced to stay held in place until you manage to center yourself well enough to answer. Taking a shaky breath, you speak in a rasp,

"I'll be fine; I just need rest." You hardly sounded like yourself, so trembling and hoarse.

"Honey, c'mon now, you can tell me what's wrong." He tried to squeeze your shoulders a little to relax you, but you only whined slightly at the feeling of his strong fingers, feeling so supportive and stable against your limp, overheated body. You knew if his hands were enough to make your head spin like this, you needed to get out as fast as possible.

"Engie- I'm going home now." Even though your words were slurred, you managed to speak clearly enough to express that much, still fidgeting in your seat to try and break free from his hold on your shoulders. Your eyelids felt so heavy, your face so warm, all you wanted to do was change into your pajamas and get a little sleep. Wanting more than anything to get back in your own bed and get rid of the awful burning inside your body. But thinking like that was dangerous, and you didn't dare let your mind wander while you were already feeling so turned on.

"You can rest upstairs in my room, c'mon lemme help you up."

"No!" Your eyes shot open as you tried to lurch out of his grip like a cornered wild animal; you were already scared, and thinking about what would happen if he brought you up to his room only made things worse.

"Don't take me up there! Wanna go home- please, please, not upstairs- I don't want to!" It was humiliating to hear yourself begging like a child being sent to bed early, but you couldn't stop. You tried to use your grip on the armrests to pull yourself away from Engie, but he was too strong, and all you would do was tire yourself out fighting like this. You couldn't tell if you were actually crying or if you just felt like you were. Trying to fight against the wicked desire quickly sapped all your inner strength; it hurt to try and keep up like this; you just wanted it all to be over.

"Hey, easy now, I've gotcha. I'm not gonna hurt ya-" Engie spoke to you like he was trying to calm a spooked mare. He let go of one of your shoulders to turn the chair you were sitting in away from the table so you were facing him before returning the hand to your shoulder. You were too embarrassed to look him in the eye, keeping your line of sight straight ahead on the wall behind him. Feel sick listening to him patronizing you like you were his little pet, not another grown adult, much less his own comrade.

"Then let go!" You meant to sound immature, but the meat you could manage was another childish pout.

"I ain't lettin' go. You're not looking too good there, honey; if I let ya go, you're gonna hurt yourself. I ain't about to let that happen." Despite having to physically wrangle you like this, Engie sounded as calm as ever. You whined as your muscles went limp, as you finally gave in and let him hold you upright.

"Engie, I don't wanna- Please, just take me home…." Surely he could feel how you continued to tremble under his hold, maybe even picking up on how your skin was practically hot to the touch, but you didn't care.

"Listen, I know you don't feel well, and you're lookin' even worse. My room is right upstairs; I want you to sleep in my bed until you're feeling better." Despite his syrupy-sweet voice, you still felt too disturbed to let your guard down.

"Don't make me go to your bed…" To your surprise, you could hear Engie laughing gently about this before feeling him help you up. You wrapped your arms around his forearms to help brace your weight a little while you struggled to find your footing before wrapping one of your arms around his neck, leaning entirely against him to support yourself. Your face was now painfully close to his, all while he merely regarded you with his easygoing smile.

"Aw honey, I wasn't gonna make us share the bed!" He winked before continuing, "Temptin' offer though it may be." Feeling your body pressed close against him like this was doing nothing to help your situation, you grit your teeth, forcing your face to turn from his to the stairs across the room. Without another word, he helped you make your way to the stairs.

A part of you wondered if he was going so slowly up the stairs to prolong your misery as long as he could; at least, that's what it felt like to you. You used one arm to grab his arm around your shoulders while the other white-knuckled the handrail; not once did his arms budge from either around your waist or from your shoulders, the side of his body crushingly tight up against yours. While the feeling of helplessness and discombobulation was wretched, you hated yourself for clinging so tightly against Engie, letting him lead you upstairs to his bedroom, despite your trepidation.

When the two of you finally made it to the top of the staircase, you were about to step foot on the second floor when you felt Engie mumble something into your ear as you bit down on your lower lip to keep from moaning at the feeling of his lips grazing against your ear, breath fanning over the side of your face, and tickling your neck without warning.

"Almost there now, honey. You're doing so good, just a little longer." You nodded, feeling as though your knees were about to give out at any second.

By the time you reached the doorway of Engie's bedroom, you didn't wait for him to get the door first. You turned the knob yourself and pushed open the door, too blinded by the idea of finally getting to lay down to worry about waiting to be invited in first. Engie helped push the door open wider as the two of you staggered inside. You refused to stop moving until you were in bed, and with almost drunken, unsteady steps, you finally found your respite, crashing into the soft flannel sheets the moment your shin connected with the edge of the bed.

Finally lying down, you lay, sprawled out on your back for a moment, giving yourself time to catch your breath. At last, you were lying down and in bed; nothing in the world mattered right now except for the cozy cotton sheets that provided you with a little nook to curl up inside of.

For just a moment, you felt better, the burning wasn't gone, but at least now it was a bit less uncomfortable.

"Usually, I'd make the bed before the company shows up, but you look pretty cozy down there. Are you feeling any better, darlin'?" You didn't answer; rolling onto your side, away from the side of the bed where he stood, you buried your head in the pillows, twisting the sheets and blankets in your hands, pulling them closer. Not exactly to cover yourself with, but just to have something soft and comfortable to grip onto, something much better than the hardwood of your chair's armrest. But it was more than that. Something about being in his bed like this felt so perfect like you were exactly where you needed to be in the universe. You were hyper-aware of Engie's scent trapped in the bedding, shamelessly nestling your face directly into it, wanting to feel it all over you. No matter how embarrassing it was to be watched in a state like this for a moment, you allowed yourself to indulge. Writhing into the blankets, using them to wick the sweat from your forehead and neck, nestling your head into the nook where the pillows met the bed.

You thought you could hear him chuckling from above, but you weren't sure, but the idea of him getting so much enjoyment watching you nestling into his bed made you self-conscious, making you whine in irritation, the sound almost entirely drowned out by the pillow. Still, the shame wasn't enough to keep you from wrapping both legs around the top blanket of the bed, spooning the fabric, feeling blissful but frustratingly unsatisfying on account of your jeans keeping the blankets from rubbing up against your bare skin. Despite the bed's softness, you somehow couldn't manage to get comfortable and couldn't stop from kicking and thrashing like a fish out of water. The smell of Engie flooding your senses was the only thing going through your mind, but it still didn't feel like enough. You could feel the bed dipping as Engie sat on the side of the bed, his hand against your shoulder, making you shiver and your nails dig into the blankets.

"Can't get comfy down there? You need me to grab you something to drink?" With a snicker, he continued, "Need daddy to read you a bedtime story?"

You frowned, looking up at him over your shoulder, "Don't talk to me like that."

"Aw c'mon, you know I'm only-" He tried to laugh it off, but for some reason, you found yourself more agitated than usual at his ribbing.

"You know what I mean!"

"Pardon?" He lifted his hand from your shoulder as you rolled from your belly to your side to look at him. Something about the awful heat coursing through you made you more brazen than usual, and you could not stop yourself from acting confrontational.

"I hate when you act like that- When you look at me like you know better than me! You're not responsible for me. I don't need you to take care of me!" His brow creased as he looked at you, hurt, confused, and completely taken aback by your sudden attitude. Your breathing was ragged, and it was hard to keep your voice from rising. You didn't know where this anger was coming from, but it felt as though you were finally telling him how much you hated when he babied you. The suddenness and intensity confused you, but the catharsis was there all the same. Telling him how you really felt. For so long, you'd been forced to be professional and mild-mannered around your comrade while he would condescend and coddle you; to finally bear your emotions like this felt damn good.

Engie tried his best to force a small smile to mask the hurt you could still see in his eyes, "I don't do this because you're weak; I never said you were weak-"

You laughed bitterly, "Right, it's because you're just such a nice guy; how could I forget?"

Engie spoke slowly, "I only do this because I care about you; I only want what's best. You know that."

"You don't love me. You love how being needed makes you feel!" By now, you were certain you were crying and weren't even really talking to Engie; now, you were talking to him. In your heart, you weren't really mad at him, but you hated how weak you felt when he prioritized you over the rest of the team. You slackened a little, pulling the blanket up to bury your head in it, sobbing. After a moment, you felt his hand putting the top of your head.

"Of course I love you-"

"No, you don't! You just want to protect the weak, isn't that right? That must be why you're always focused on me, right? I'm nothing but the weakest of the team to you! I'm nothing but a charity case; all you care about is making yourself feel better." You were helpless to stop all the awful insecurities you tried so hard to hide from the rest of the world from surfacing now. Engie huffed a little, moving his hand from your hair to your chin, forcing you to turn and look at him.

"So I'm the selfish one, is that it? I spend all this time with you, cook for you, let you sleep in my own bed, and that makes me the selfish one?" You had to bite back a moan at the feeling of his fingers gripping your face so tightly.

"You slipped me something, didn't you?" It was a surprise to hear your voice so level after screaming and crying. Engie looked more surprised than offended by your words but didn't say anything to his defense.

"I bet you did this, didn't you! Fucking hell, you'd do anything to be the hero- to just come to everyone's rescue. You don't care about me; I bet you don't even like any of the rest of us!"

His eyes narrowed. "Don't say that."

"That's the only reason I'm here, isn't it? You wanted to get me all alone, slip me God knows what so you could take me here and wait till it knocked out to start touching yourself over my unconscious body. You've been planning this, haven't you!" Despite your harsh words, Engie didn't look offended. Nothing worked, no matter how you tried to anger or convince him to kick you out. He merely sighed, face softening as his fingers gently caressed the side of your face.

"Let it out, sweetheart; you've had a long day. Just get it out of your system; you'll be alright." You didn't say anything in return, and for a moment, you wondered, "Would it really be so bad to let him have his way?" Your eyes drift shut as you feel Engie's fingers brush away your tears, smoothing back your hair. No matter how you tried to deny it, letting, him treat you like his little girl felt good. Why had you fought him back for so long? Now that you weren't fighting back, his touch no longer felt smothering but soothing. And you felt in that moment that he was the only thing in the world that could satisfy your desire.

"I'm gonna get you a change of clothes, just lay back." The bed creaked a little as he lifted himself from the mattress.

You spoke in a broken, pitifully small voice, "I shouldn't have said that."

"I know you didn't mean it." He was in the same room but sounded so far away you wanted him back in bed.

"It was still wrong to say.." As he returned to his perch by your side, you twisted in bed, laying on your side.

He smiled, "I forgive you." You wanted to say you didn't deserve it, but at the moment, you couldn't find the words; all you could manage to do was stare at him with puppy eyes.

"Do you want me to help you out of your clothes?"

At first, you were about to question why he was acting so brazen, but then you realized at some point during your fight you'd started to wriggle in bed nervously, mindlessly pawing at your bottoms, trying to pull them off while your fingers were too numb and awkward to work the buttons or the zipper. Time felt like it slowed down for a moment; the two of your eyes locked as you understood the weight of his question. You nodded.

"I need to hear you say it." Engie's soft voice is as assuring and gentle as ever, yet unmistakably firm. While you were putting up a fight for a while there, you both knew who was really in charge here. Forcing yourself to keep eye contact, you managed a "yes, I would." Engie's sweet smile betrayed his dirty mind.

"Roll back over onto your stomach." You didn't understand why he wanted this, but you immediately complied. You bit down on a pillow to muffle the sounds you made when you felt Engie's fingers find your jean's button, undoing it and pulling the zipper all the way down just as easily, while you couldn't help but whine and twitch at the feeling of his fingers brushing against your bare underbelly, and the sensation of his fingers over your clothed pubic mound for just a second as he undid the zipper. You took a deep breath after the zipper was undone, feeling the most relief you'd felt all night. He gave you a moment to breathe deeply before his hands made their way to the waistband of your jeans and, with a few tugs, pulled them past your hips as you kicked your legs to try and help him remove the awful denim from your body. Your thighs spread wider, blessedly now unrestricted against Engie's blankets while he looked down at the beautiful sight. You couldn't help but sigh audibly into the pillow; at long last, you were free.

"Shirt too?" You mumbled, but Engie understood what you wanted, grabbing the bottom hem of your top as he pushed it up and over your head with your bra while you slid your arms through the sleeves. Leaving you stripped down to nothing but your underwear. The feeling of his sheets, his smell now directly below your skin, felt heavenly, your tits perking up a little, still tingling from earlier as you rubbed yourself over the bed, breathing heavily in through your nose and out through your mouth. While Engie was more than excited to finally get a chance to get his hands on you, he wasn't about to rush you here.

You were entirely right to call him out for planning this, and despite a few snags along the way, the evening was shaping up exactly how he hoped it would. And while he expected your hesitation and your near-certain anger when you realized he was responsible for your current situation, Engie had every confidence that in just a bit of time, you would be thanking him for all this. All he had to do was wait, and for you, he'd wait forever if he must.

He trailed his feeling hand down the curve of your ass as you felt the rubber glove brushing against the swell of your hip. His fingers playfully drummed along the flesh of your ass while you shivered and bit down a little harder on the pillow in your mouth.

"I forgive you, and I love you- but you outta know how to watch that mouth of yours."

" 'M sorry, it won't happen again." You babbled, half talking to him, half speaking into the pillow. You weren't strong enough to look him in the eye, but you were just horny enough to tell him whatever he needed to hear.

"Oh, I'm sure it won't. But someone ought to teach you a lesson." You felt his ungloved fingers squeezing against the flesh of your ass, assuring you of exactly where his attention was. Knowing you had his full attention elicited another stir of excitement inside you.

"Mhm?" He spoke softly, but you could pick up on the dark edge of his words even in such an inebriated state.

"Maybe this is my fault. I've been spoiling you all this time, and I haven't even laid a hand on you." Using his gloved hand, he gave a little testing pat against your rear, not hard at all, but enough to make a sharp smacking sound fill the room. You sighed at the feeling; he was right; he was being too soft, and you needed more. Needed his attention now more than ever before.

You were about to say something, anything to urge him on, but he literally beat you to it, his glove slapping against your ass again, a little bit harder this time, forcing you to bite down onto his pillow to muffle your little shriek of surprise. The residual soreness didn't have time to set in fully before you felt another blow, followed by another and another and another. Not harder or softer, he set a steady rhythm for the two of you. You could feel the blood rushing to the sore area and couldn't imagine how red you must've looked.

It felt good to be used like this. To feel held accountable for taking advantage of "the nice guy" for so long. Now he wasn't going easy on you, and it was exactly what you needed. By accident, his hand struck a little closer to your cunt than he intended; maybe he didn't aim right, or perhaps you accidentally spread your legs too wide. You didn't know. In response to this feeling, you spread your legs even wider.

"Maybe I ought to bring you off the battlefield and back home with me. Set ya to work on the old Conagher farm. I know it'll do ya real good to get outta the city, give ya a 'lil perspective. You'd fit right in; I can see it now." He was mostly rambling to himself than actually speaking to you, but you followed along all the same. In any other situation, you'd never let him get away with implying he could so easily take you home and "tame you," but given how horny you already felt, you were ready to tell him everything he wanted to hear if it meant you would finally get some satisfaction.

"I'll go anywhere with you! Please, Engie, please keep going; I fucking need it! I-I need you so bad, Daddy!" You peeked your head over your shoulder and felt your heartthrob at the sight of his face softened with love and eyes twinkling like little stars. Good Lord, would you give anything to cum on that beautiful face of his. You weren't aware of the wet spot of drool he could see from where you were biting down on the pillow and the mess of spit around your lips.

He used his thick fingers to brush against the soaked fabric covering your sex; the feeling of at last getting a bit of friction between your legs made your head roll forward, crushing your face into the pillow, mindlessly rocking your hips against his fingers.

"You're gonna be good for me from now on? No more attitude?" He was moving too slow, intentionally shying his fingers away whenever you tried to get closer, mocking your neediness. While you were reduced to a wet, mindless mess sobbing incoherently, "Yes, I will! I promise I'll be good; I promise I'll be good! Please, Daddy, please, Daddy- I need it so bad, please!"

His fingers paused, directly over exactly where you needed them, his glove gripping the curve of your hip, keeping you from grinding against him, forcing you to remain painfully in place, the strain of staying in this position its own hell on Earth. "You promise you'll behave?"

Without missing a beat, you kept, "I promise!"

You can hear his proud smile without looking back at his face. "All right, darlin', if you promise." He sounded just like a proud father; no wonder he stepped into the role so well.

He continued to grope at your ass with his gloved hand, pushing your underwear to the side as he finally slipped his fingers inside. By now, you were practically too weak to keep grinding against him, but fortunately, you wouldn't last much longer. You felt like you were on edge for hours, and feeling Engie's fingers working their magic inside your body was that last little push you needed to send you over the edge. His thumb worked in sync with his fingers, a thick coating of your slick messily seeping from inside, helping him to go even faster.

You wished you didn't have to be on your stomach, Engie sitting off to the side, so far away. You wanted to wrap your arms around him, feel his naked flesh against your body, but inhaling his smell and grinding against his sheets would have to do for now. You spread your thighs wider as you felt yourself clenching against his fingers, your climax so close it hurt. Back arching as you mindlessly pushed yourself even harder against his fingers, the intensity building until you finally came. Seeing all white as relief washed over your entire body, the tension easing up as pleasant little after-shocks began to set in. The awful burning desire inside satisfied as you went limp, settling heavily into his bed with a heavy sigh.

By now, the sheets were dampened by your sweat, though you were too tired to care much, feeling no real discomfort while laying in a little puddle of your own sweat. While Engie's handiwork had mercifully taken care of the burning inside, you could tell your head wasn't quite clear yet. The loopy, needy feeling now morphed into comfortable drowsiness, making your afterglow feel all the sweeter. You winced a little while Engie withdrew his fingers and the vague sensation of your wetness sloppily trailing his hand. You could hear him wiping the slick off onto the bedsheets before petting the top of your head gently.

"Feelin' better now?" Your tongue felt too heavy in your mouth to formulate any words, but you nodded, making a quiet sound of affirmation while your head remained buried in the pillows.

"And what do we say when someone does something nice for us?" He sounded easygoing, but you knew he wanted a real answer out of you. Turning your head to rest a cheek on the pillow, you sleepily half-opened one eye to try and focus on him.

"Thank you, Daddy." It was a dull mumble of an answer, but it appeased him well enough. He ruffled your hair before you could hear the sound of Engie undressing, letting his button-up shirt and stiff work pants join your jeans on the floor. By the time he nestled up in bed with you, wrapping your limp body up with his strong arms, you were already more than half-asleep. Maybe the excessive fatigue was a side-effect of whatever slipped earlier. For a moment, you wondered if you would wake up with a hangover or not, but the thought left your head almost as quickly as it came. Even without the mystery drug in your system, it was certainly possible that your brain was better off trying to shut down and try not to think too hard about what just happened and even less about what the morning might bring.

Within your final moments of coherency, you could feel your body pulled against Engie's bare chest until you were close enough to rest your cheek against his flesh. He tucked your head under his chin as he muttered to himself.

"I wasn't lying' when I said I love you, honey. I love you more than anything else; I'd never lie about that."

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holdupjack · 1 year

Text

Maybe Being Enemies Isnt For Us?

——————

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader

WARNING: None

——————

Third Person P.O.V:

Y/n stood in the corner of the Great Hall as students took the dance floor, she had come alone due to her lack of likeness of men.

...

Okay, she was afraid to ask out one of the girls.

Sue her, young teenage lesbian romance is hard.

Her best friend Blaise had come over and whispered about how Hermione looked stunning tonight, which was true, but Y/n would never admit it out loud.

"She looks fine" Y/n mumbled as she scrapped the dirt out from under her nails. Blaise snickered and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head.

"Just admit this rivalry between you two is some petty lovers quarrel" she whispers into her hair and Y/n scoffs.

"We'd have to be lovers first, and this is no quarrel" she replies as he hummed, both thinking back on the reason the two have become bitter Betty.

They had accidentally kissed in the third year after a study session in the library. It was an honest accident, bumping into one another as just a small peck was shared, but the two became messes after it.

Avoiding one another like the plague as they shared looks of hesitance that turned into fiery glares of annoyance within days.

Something that could have been laughed off, or pursued further, instead was taken to extremes.

Enemies were born.

"Internalize Homophobia" Blaise sings softly as she smacked his stomach hard enough to make a point.

"It doesn't matter" Y/n mumbled as her eyes scanned the crowd, trying to find the pink blob within the sea of students.

"To bed! Both of you!"

Hermione's voice cuts through the crowd like a knife, causing the two to look by the entrance of the Great Hall.

They couldn't see her, but there was no doubt she was standing out there yelling at someone. Everyone else seemed to ignore the argument as Blaise sucked his teeth.

"I hope she isn't having her night ruined, it seemed like she was having a blast tonight" he mumbles as his date calls him over for a dance, he kissed Y/n's head again as a goodbye and disappeared into the crowd.

Y/n stared at the entrance for another moment before cursing under her breath and pushing away from the wall she was leaning against.

Slowly she snuck her way past everyone between her and the corridor, she got a few judgmental looks as she stepped on the other's toes to get where she was going.

When she finally stepped out of the event, it was mostly empty in the rest of the castle. Her eyes scanned around the surrounding, and she noticed the back of Hermione's head peaking above the stairs that lead down to the lower floors.

Y/n stood still as she heard the soft sniffles escape the Gryffindor's lips, and her shoulders shake slightly.

What does she do in this situation?

She quietly walked towards her, every step feeling as though a dog had gotten a hold of her pant legs and was pulling back as hard as it can.

As Y/n casually sat down beside her, she noticed her tiara sitting between them. Hermione had seen someone who had sat next to her but didn't care to look.

The silence between them was deafening, but Y/n soon cleared her throat to ask a simple question.

"Are you...okay?" Y/n asks as the brunette's eyes shot up to her, but they quickly fell back to the bottom of the staircase.

"I'm not in the mood to fight Y/n" she mumbles and the girl nods in agreement.

"That's not why I sat down next to you" Y/n replies to which Hermione let out an unconvinced chuckle.

"Sure"

As Hermione wiped away the seemingly endless amount of tears, Y/n sat next to her like a statue carved by Phidias himself, afraid to say or do the wrong thing.

"No one likes when you cry" Y/n blurts out, then immediately cringes at her word choice.

Hermione laughs slightly and looks over at her, letting her eyes flow up and down Y/n's side profile like a gentle stream.

"Is that a very bad comfort line, or a jab?" She asks as a sniffle escapes her, Y/n sighed and rubs rubbed the back of her neck in embarrassment.

"The first" she replies to which Hermione hummed.

"You're bad at this"

"I know"

The conversation dies down again as music from the band in the Great Hall played loudly nearby.

Y/n looked over to see Hermione looking back at the floor of the staircase, her eyes filled with disappointment because of how her night is ending.

"Who made you cry?" Y/n asks as the Gryffindor sighed quietly.

"The boys, but mostly Ron" she admits, not wanting to wait until Ginny had come back to their dorm to talk about her feelings.

Ginny would have too many questions, and Y/n doesn't care enough to ask that much.

"He threw a huge fit because I went with Krum instead of him" she explains and Y/n hums in acknowledgment, knowing the rumors that had been spreading about his not-so-secret crush on his female best friend.

"Did you want to go with him?" Y/n asks as she watched Hermione take the pins out of her hair and let the curls fall to her shoulders.

"Yes and no, but just as a friend if we had" she replies and Y/n hummed again, not getting the picture of why she was still crying out here while a buff boy from another wizarding school was probably searching for her like a lost puppy.

"Then there's no reason to cry over it then. If he wants to bitch and whine about you not having feelings for him, then let him" Y/n states as she dusted off her pants and stared back at the ground.

"I care about his feelings, no matter what happens between us," Hermione says to which Y/n nodded in agreement.

"I understand that, but where in your description as a 'friend' does it dictate that you have to hold his hand and explain to him obvious social cues? That's not being a friend, that's being a mother" Y/n grumbles as she leaned her elbows back onto the stair behind her and listened to her spine crack and pop.

Hermione was taken aback by Y/n's harsh critiques about her relationship with Ron, but she was right, surprisingly.

"I know, but he's still one of my best friends" Hermione mumbled as she fiddled with the hairpins in her hand.

"For some reason he blamed you, didn't he? Like it was your fault that you didn't ask him instead, that you haven't fallen madly in love with him yet, and you aren't begging to become the new Mrs.Weasley" Y/n states with annoyance as Hermione began to giggle quietly.

She hit the nail on the head.

"Look" Y/n starts as she leaned back up and grasped the tiara into her hands from between them, then closing the space.

When Hermione turned back toward her, they were face to face. Hermione had a small flashback to that night after the library.

"Ron will come around sooner or later, and in the meantime..." she trails off as she placed the crown back onto the Gryffindor's head, grabbing a few hairpins from Hermione hand as well.

"Go back and have some more fun at the party, there's no need to end this night on a sour note" Y/n whispered as she made sure the crown was secured into her brown locks.

Hermione watched her intently as she felt Y/n's breath hit different parts of her face as she checked each side multiple times.

"I bet you Krum is looking everywhere for you" Y/n hums as she finally caught Hermione's eyes again. They stared at one another for a moment before Y/n began to grin.

"See? Sometimes I can be nice" Y/n whispered as she stood up and grabbed the heels that Hermione had kicked off in anger.

"I never said you weren't nice" Hermione stated as Y/n bent down in front of her and helped slip her shoes again.

"That is true, we never are technically mean to one another," Y/n says as she slid onto the first heel, her other hand holding the back of Hermione's calf ever so gently.

The Gryffindor had regretted that day in the central hall, where she just stood there after the childish peck. Y/n had begun apologizing profusely, and before Hermione could get a word in, she left.

She should have chased after Y/n and told her that it was all right, that she has been making her question herself...that she had liked how her lips felt on hers.

Instead, Hermione stood there dumbfounded and chose to ignore Y/n. Afraid of what her parents and friends would say, even though she knew deep down that they wouldn't care.

She has pretended to hate her for the last year and a half, and Hermione was honestly tired of it.

"There you go, Granger"

She blinked back out of her memories and watched as Y/n stood up and held her hands out for her to take.

Hermione smiled softly as she took them and was pulled into a standing position, where she towered over her due to behind two steps above.

"I bet you already heard this a bunch tonight, but you look stunning...have a good night Hermione" Y/n whispers as she smiled back, and began walking down the stairs to somewhere in the castle.

She was walking away from her again.

"Why do we hate each other?" Hermione called out as Y/n stepped onto the ground floor, causing her to turn back around with a raised eyebrow.

"You don't remember?" Y/n asks, to which the Gryffindor shook her head in response. A lie.

"No, I don't" Hermione replies as she slowly walked down to the main floor to stand next to Y/n.

"I have missed our little study sessions" she admits as Y/n opened and closed her mouth in utter confusion.

"Seriously? You don't remember?" She finally asks as Hermione stood in front of her on the floor. She shook her head again in response.

"Will you tell me what happened?"

Y/n stared at her in disbelief before sighing to herself, Hermione waited patiently as she found the right words to say.

"Well, it's after one of the library meet-ups. We were walking towards the Gryffindor Common Room when I noticed a small sticky note had found its way under your shoe. So we stopped and I bent down to grab it." Y/n pauses as she did the motion, bending down in front of Hermione and thinking for a second.

"Then as I got back up, we accidentally-"

Hermione went for the strike, kissing her as she stood back up, just like that night. For a moment she thought Y/n was about to push her away, but she felt as if her hands found a perfect spot on either side of her hips.

The Gryffindor's own hands grasped the front of her shirt, as a small gesture to show she wasn't going to back away either.

Unless-

"I knew it!"

The duo broke apart immediately as their eyes shot up to the top of the stairs. There stood Ginny and Blaise. Smiling like idiots.

"Lovers Quarrel! I told you, Ginny, they just needed some alone time" he states proudly as the two girls had faces burning with embarrassment.

"Blaise you better hope to god that I don't run up there and tell your date what you secretly do on Sunday nights" Y/n states and the boy's face goes pale, to which Ginny smirked.

"Got secrets, Blaise? I thought you said you were an open book?" She asks to which the boy cleared his throat, and excused himself back into the party. Ginny just laughed and decided to follow after him to pester about this newfound info.

"Have fun you two~" Ginny sings out with a snicker as she disappeared as well, the girls were quiet for a few moments, but Hermione had a question.

"What does he do on Sunday nights?" She asks as Y/n looked back at her with surprise.

"Oh uh, he sings karaoke to ABBA songs all night. I don't know why he's embarrassed about it, I think his cover of Slipping Through My Fingers is beautiful" Y/n states to which Hermione chuckled in response.

"Sounds like a blast to watch" she replies as Y/n grinned at the memories playing in her mind.

"Maybe I could sneak you in next Sunday?" Y/n asks quietly

Hermione matched her grin but tried to suppress it by looking for a moment.

"I would love that Y/n, perhaps we could meet up again tomorrow as well if you're free that is?" Hermione asks and Y/n felt her face and neck burn at the question.

"Of course, where should we meet?" she asks as the Gryffindor hummed in thought.

"How about the dock house after lunch? Since I have a feeling our friends will be searching for us all over the castle tomorrow with questions" Hermione replied and Y/n chuckled.

"Alright Granger, I'll see you then," she says as they smiled at one another, in a childlike nervousness as they imagined what tomorrow would bring.

As Y/n said goodnight one last time and began walking away, she yelled something over her should.

"You know, maybe being enemies isn't for us?" Y/n says as Hermione watched her stop at the stairs that lead down to the bottom of the moving staircases.

"I agree" She replies as Y/n smiled once more at her, before walking down the stairs.

Just like that, she was gone.

Hermione stood in the hall and felt a wave of relief wash over her as she climbed back towards the party.

She wondered what events were in store for them at midday tomorrow.

#harry potter #hermione granger #hermione granger x reader #lesbian #fanfic

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