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teamcivilian · 2 years

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Insult to Injury: The Director's Cut — Ch01 [Revised]

Warnings: Intense scenes of violence including torture, sexual content, nudity and language, allusions to childhood trauma/abuse.

Rating: M

Genre: Crime/Drama with a side of romance.

Summary: A troubled psychiatrist desperate to escape past criminal ties is drawn into a far more insidious schism. [Post-Skyfall, Pre-NTtD]

07/15/2022 — This is going to be the final rewrite. Aside from some big fixes (Madeleine’s profession as a psychatrist rather than psychologist, aging her up by one year, switching "college" to "university", giving the PSD its own name, etc) I made an effort to tighten up the dialogue and characterization overall. At the time I was originally working on this (2020-2021) I pulled a lot of information from fan-wikis; as such, there were some conflicting details I overlooked for the sake of convenience. It still might not be perfect, but I’d rather move forward than stay trapped in development hell.

Whether you’ve been reading since early 2020, or are new to the story in time for 007 Fest 2022, I hope you enjoy what’s in store! —Dorminchu

— ACT I —

“Most rich people have a gangster in their ancestry somewhere.” ― Ken Follett, Winter of the World

I: FORGIVING WHO YOU ARE, FOR WHAT YOU STAND TO GAIN

2003; Madeleine was eighteen, fresh out of Ermitage International School. Just a week before, she’d talked things out with her academic counsellor. Mental health was a very important subject to her. She had always admired those who could help others who lacked the knowledge or courage to take the first step. She wanted to go into psychiatry. Looking back on it, she probably sounded like every other self-impressed trust-fund looking to cajole his or her way into advanced placements.

The counsellor simply sat behind his desk and listened, nodding every once in a while. He was getting paid either way. “Have you decided what university you will be attending?”

Madeleine explained that she had put in a few different applications already.

The counsellor said, “These positions go quickly. Put in a couple more. Oxford is a good choice.”

Madeleine paused. Money was not exactly a problem for someone attending Ermitage, but she didn’t want to go flaunting this around. She thanked him for his time and information, and left.

The very next morning Madeleine opened her laptop—a birthday gift from her father, kept for convenience’s sake—to a series of emails confirming her acceptance into Oxford. Tuition payments. High-priority placements. So on, so forth.

Her father never wrote. Never gave any indication that he had a daughter in his life, until she had gotten her baccalaureate.

With tears in her eyes, she read the messages over to make sure she was not mistaken. She composed herself, called her Aunt Droit and relayed the message. The tremble in her own voice mistaken for elation.

But the warmth in Droit’s voice stayed with Madeleine for years. “Congratulations, dear. You’ve worked very hard at this.”

Madeleine bit the inside of her cheek and hung up.

⁂

She spent the next four years at Oxford, plus one in the Sorbonne during her residency. Once she was a practicing psychiatrist, she could support herself without outside interference.

She embraced the temporary comfort of acquaintances who knew her as Madeleine Swann; disciplined in her studies, but always cordial to the part-time students. The type of person who was drawn into the orbit of socialisation. A tough nut to crack. Colleagues sought her advice on research projects. Some vying to get into her good graces. A couple guys might ask for her number and end up studying together for weeks. Most were appreciative, but eventually Madeleine earned an unshakeable reputation for being frigid.

Of course, not everyone was so disingenuous. Madeleine attended her fair share of lunches and off-campus events for the sake of networking opportunities, melding into a small-knit group of undergraduates with comparable grades. Arnaud, who was studying to be a clinical psychologist, only stuck out in her mind because he kept finding excuses to hang out between classes. He may as well have been making conversation to a brick wall, but his presence gave her an excuse to get out of parties and potential dates. She let him accompany her to and from the library without complaint. Even after he’d graduated, they still kept in touch.

After becoming a licensed psychiatrist in 2008, she immediately turned to non-profit work. That summer, there was a water crisis in Bolivia. Tuberculosis outbreak in Laos. 2009; aftermath of a military coup in Ethiopia.

In the spring of 2011, she moved back into Paris. Cycling between outpatient management at the hospital and private clinic; in the latter case, complete with her own office. The casual anecdotes she provided to her co-workers were about as as droll as her taste in décor—with the occasional concern about her walls being a little sterile, always passed along by the secretary. Not even a picture of yourself, Dr. Swann?

Out of the blue, Arnaud contacted her over email. He was a clinical psychologist now, working just a couple blocks away. How would she like to meet up again, just for old time’s sake?

Detached from the stress of a full-time enrolment, this gesture lost its annoyance. It was honestly flattering. She wasn’t that busy.

They caught up over in a local bar Madeleine forgot the name of. Arnaud was busy teaching, over in Hauts-de-Seine. He was a Senior Psychologist now. How was she doing, these days?

She mentioned the clinic, no problems there. The hospital as well. She had her own new circle of friends. He kept looking at her as she talked. On impulse, she offered to buy him shots. A belated celebration of their graduations.

Arnaud said, “You, drink? I’ve never seen you touch a glass.”

“That’s because I don’t, usually.” She took half a sip. Cringed. “Sorry, it’s been a while.”

“You don’t have to finish that.”

“Neither do you.”

Arnaud chuckled.

She said, “My mother used to drink a lot. I guess I thought I would always turn out like her one day, but that’s silly isn’t it.” She finished her drink. “You haven’t even touched yours. I bet I could drink your ass under this table.” She took his glass before he could so much as speak, downed it. She grinned. “See?”

Cut to half-an-hour later; Madeleine, vomiting her sandwich from six hours ago into the toilet while Arnaud kept her head up.

She didn’t remember much besides waking up on the couch in her apartment, still in her clothes from the night before.

“How are you feeling?” said Arnaud.

Madeleine groaned. She grabbed throw-pillow and mashed her face into it. “What time is it?”

“It’s just past two.”

Madeleine lay there until the faint odour of stale vomit was no longer tolerable. Cursing, she swatted it aside. “You didn’t have to stay.”

“It was no trouble,” he said. “You never told me you had family.”

“What?”

“That’s the first time you’ve mentioned any relatives.”

“I was drunk,” said Madeleine. “Don’t worry about it.” Madeleine lowered her hands, squinting at the light. She could make out his face. He looked like he hadn’t slept very well. “Well—what did I say?”

“Something about an aunt, and your mother. I didn’t catch all of it.”

A pit in her stomach that had nothing to do with her recent choices. Madeleine looked Arnaud in-between the eyes. “I’d rather forget about this, if it’s all the same to you.��

Arnaud frowned. “You’re not troubling me at all.”

From then on, she’d accompany him for walks in the Parc Georges-Brassens if the weather permitted. See him for lunch, or dinner. From every other weekend to every weekend.

As the months progressed it was difficult to find excuses to remain platonic. Not because she felt any particular, immediate attraction. She just couldn’t bring herself to relinquish her grip on someone so easily accessible. A heartless woman would string him along with false hope and drop him at the first sign of commitment; Madeleine accepted his offer to cohabit his apartment in Vaugirard. Separate bedrooms. Plenty of space to keep to themselves.

In lieu of a car, they’d share public transit. He’d tease her for checking the corners of the bus each time, but he would also wait up for her on long shifts. Whomever came home first fixed dinner, so on, so forth.

Two years later, they were still together. Her co-workers wondered how she and Arnaud could balance their careers and relationship when she made three times as much as he did in a year.

⁂

In the winter of 2013 Madeleine applied for a position as psychiatrist with the Médecins Sans Frontières. A week into March, she got an email confirming her placement. A three-month mission in Conakry, Guinea, May through July, with the possibility of an extension. Madeleine had relayed this information to both the clinic and the hospital, so there was no worry.

Now it was April. Sitting in the comfort of her office, reading over electronic pamphlets and advisories. In a couple weeks she would be working in far less hospitable conditions. Non-profit work always looked good on a résumé.

Checking her laptop, tabbed over to a different page: Guinean Visa and Passport Requirements: All non-ECOWAS foreigners are required to have a valid Guinean visa and a vaccination card in order to be granted entry. Yellow fever vaccination cards are verified upon entry into the country at Gbessia. Approval for the visa necessitated a seventy-two-hour window of clearance.

She sat back with a headache settling just around the base of her skull. Alone with four polished wooden walls and the analog clock, the fluorescent lighting fixed her to a single moment in time.

A knock at her door snapped her out of contemplation. It was the senior consultant. Madeleine motioned him in, closing the laptop.

“I’m surprised you don’t sleep in that office,” he said.

“That would save some money on bus fare.” She opened the cabinet of folders under her desk, filing away documents from that day’s session.

“How’s Arnaud?”

“He’s doing well.”

The consultant nodded. As she packed up, walked towards her door he was looking at her with something close to sympathy. “You are serious about this mission in Conakry?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

His face darkened. “Have you seen the news lately?”

“Oh, I doubt they would be looking for applicants if the situation were that severe.” Madeleine smiled dryly. “But, there is always a chance I’ll die doing what I love. I can’t think of a better way to go.”

The consultant’s uneasy laugh caused the secretary to glance at them through the doorframe. Madeleine hit the light on the way out.

⁂

Late at night, the weather was on that precipice between winter and spring. An overcast sky, grey and still. By the time Madeleine was opening the door to the apartment, she was grateful to get away from the chill seeping into her skin.

Arnaud, still dressed for work, was sitting on the sofa with last month’s issue of The International Journal Of Psychoanalysis. Without her pitching in, he’d be working part-time shifts at the clinic and teaching night classes just to make end’s meet. He looked up and said, “You’re back late. I took care of dinner.”

Madeleine shrugged out of her coat. “Thanks. I got held up at the clinic.”

“What for?”

She went over to the closet and hung her coat up. “Just lost track of time. I had a pretty busy shift. I’ve been weighing my options lately. This year, I’ll probably be moving to a different clinic. I’ll have to relocate to Spain, or Switzerland. Drag you along.” She looked at him because he hadn’t said anything. “You have enough to worry about.”

Arnaud readjusted his glasses. “I’ve got my degree. I can get a job just about anywhere you go.”

For the most part, Arnaud was easy to live with. Their schedules did not always leave time to get acquainted with each other’s inner thoughts.

Madeleine said, “Can I get your coat?”

He looked up at her, sitting up and shrugging out of it. “Yes, thank you.”

She took his coat, walked back over to the closet, paused. “I put in a position with MSF a few weeks ago. It’s possible I won’t be back until August.” The silence protracted. Madeleine came back into the living room. “I meant to tell you earlier.”

“No, no. I’m grateful you decided it would be convenient for you to tell me at all.”

Madeleine stiffened. “Don’t start this now.”

“Last year,” said Arnaud flatly, “you were gone for six months on some psychiatry tour, you wouldn’t tell me where. This year I had to ask around your office. Conakry? You know what’s happening over there?”

“That’s exactly why I need to go. They’re in need someone with my skillset.”

“You ever take a moment to consider what would happen if you don’t come back?”

“It’s a risk I am willing to take.”

He scoffed. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me about this?”

“Because you’ve never volunteered outside of a mental health ward, let alone this country.”

“Not everyone has the luxury of working eight-hour shifts or leaving the country for months at a time.”

Madeleine stiffened. He had no right to use this against her. Everyone made mistakes, it had just slipped her mind, and now he wanted to turn it into a bigger issue. “I don’t need to be paid to make a difference in someone’s life. Why is that so difficult to understand?”

“Jesus, listen to yourself. This isn’t a competition.”

“If you’re so worried about it, maybe you should come along. Make sure I’m not in any real danger. Why not take some pictures while you are at it? You can put those on your wall at work.”

Each time they went out to dinners with old colleagues, now, they would say—oh, you’re still doing volunteer work abroad? That’s so admirable, Madeleine—and Arnaud nodded along with a tight smile. Each of them had found success in their respective fields. Arnaud and his colleagues spoke about their personal lives with an ease, an intimacy which Madeleine could never quite reciprocate.

Arnaud took his glasses off. “Right. I’m no different that that furniture set. Something you buy to make your life a little more complete.”

Madeleine’s eyes hardened. “That’s a ridiculous thing to say.”

Arnaud shut the magazine. “Aren’t you going to have some dinner?”

“What about you?”

“I was out with some friends. I’ve already eaten. You can have some if you like.”

Madeleine frowned. She went into the kitchen. Leftovers from the night before. A quiet dinner for one.

“I should have told you,” she said again, while Arnaud came back, prepped the dishwasher to run. “I’m sorry.”

He paused with his thumb on the extra rinse button. “You should have your own life and interests, outside of mine. I’ve never volunteered abroad. I’m sure it’s very rewarding.”

He walked out. Madeleine could not argue to an empty room.

⁂

By the end of April, she was getting ready to depart. Arnaud was still asleep when she left for her 06:30 flight.

The situation in Guinea had not improved so much as stabilised. Madeleine was assured that the MSF members on-site had already taken precautions, and she’d be instructed further on what to do upon her arrival. She was advised to vaccinate, just to be on the safe side―according to her medical records, she would not need another round of shots until 2015.

Sometime around February, a group of diamond miners in South Africa had been exposed to an unidentified gas while working in the lowest depths. There were multiple deaths, and far more instances of atrioventricular block and cardiac arrest, ataxia, blindness, nausea and vomiting; all symptoms related to blister agent poisoning.

The official statement put forth claimed the gas came from a hidden stash of chemical weapons by terrorists. It had been struck mistakenly and exposed the workers to its effects. The pictures of the victims plastered all over news sites were reminiscent of chemical burns. So the mine had to be shut down for an indefinite period.

In the lobby of the Grand Hotel de L’independence Madeleine was introduced to the Project Coordinator; a shorter man in his mid-forties with a photogenic smile and toupee. He clasped her hand in both of his clammy ones and said: “Very glad you’ve made it, Doctor. We need you on-site as soon as possible.”

By the time she got to her room on the second floor, a fine sheen of sweat had built on her skin. Her luggage was waiting for her on the bench. Off-white walls and bedsheets, a couple wooden chairs. One lamp on the wall beside the desk, two flanking the headboard. The sofa beside the bed looked older than the rest of the furniture. The red and blue pillows as a thoughtful accent were probably new. Everything was clean, though the flatscreen television looked out-of-place. The air quality inside the room was stuffy. No point in lingering here.

On-site at Donka Hospital she met up with the Medical Coordinator and Psychosocial Unit. An isolation ward had been established before the MSF’s involvement, but they were at full capacity; the workers coming and going from there were all clad in full-body personal protective equipment. Another section of the grounds had been set aside and fenced off; rows of tents all lined up. No matter where you went the stench of rot always seemed to hang pervasively in the air.

The other members on the Psychosocial Unit were as amicable as the situation permitted. There wasn’t time to get to know each other outside of their professions and the given assignment.

All of them were good on paper but betrayed their inexperience through a shared level of idealism. Fresh into their respective fields, they were coming here not simply to lend their aid to those in need, but to make a difference. They were all observing the crises of the rest of the world through the same lens of journalism and commercialized empathy. It could not prepare them for the experience of actually sitting down and listening to what their patients talked about with prosaic sincerity.

Conversations were conducted in French, or else by way of an interpreter, though the sentiment in the voices of these patients was palpable. Death was an expected outcome. Implications of negligence or corruption in the government were a common topic of discussion among patients and hospital staff alike.

There was a growing disparity between the narrative put into circulation by the news and what was happening in the field. According to several members of the MSF and the staff at Donka, the media had grossly exaggerated the problem. The workers whose condition had kicked off the initial “chemicals in the mine” story had been subjected to long-term exposure. Most of the patients that came through after that were not as grievously injured, but showed traces of the same poisoning. The photos created a narrative that incited concern in the public eye and incentivized the need for donations. Now the government wanted to cover up the severity of the situation as not to detract from any potential business opportunities; until the MSF got involved, they were only employing the most rudimentary of safety procedures.

The rest of June crawled by without any major incidents. By July the MSF were in the process of dealing with an influx of internally displaced persons (IDPs). There had been a flurry of similar incidents in surrounding prefectures. Thanks to the cooperation with the local civilians and tireless efforts on part of the medical staff and MSF Medical Unit, there had been a forty-five-percent decrease in fatalities compared to the initial wave back in February.

But the hospital was overwhelmed. The topic of insurgence was the new favourite with patients; a consequence of the lack of tangible progress coupled with deep-seated mistrust of government officials. Now the Force Sécurité/Protection, or FSP, had been brought on in collaboration with an additional Protective Services Detail (PSD) by the name of SFT, to ensure the hospital and surrounding property remained untouched.

The latter was a point of contention. Accepting outside assistance from the government directly, rather than working out a compromise, allowed the possibility for interference. But the Project Coordinator was in full support of additional protection around the hospital, as well as the hotel.

Each morning, before work, Madeleine and the rest of the Psychosocial Unit were reviewing protocol in the event of an attack. Outright criticism of methods in handling the situation was discouraged. Madeleine was savvy enough to keep herself abreast of any controversy. For the rest of the Psychosocial Unit, they were either too naïve or willing to look the other way.

The one exception to this was the Vaccines Medical Advisor, Dr. Kessler. He worked on the Medical Unit. Madeleine had cooperated with him a handful of times at the behest of the Medical Coordinator and gathered that Dr. Kessler had gotten into a dispute with the Medical Team a couple days ago. Madeleine wasn’t around to hear the details, but some of the younger MSF members talked about him less discreetly. Kessler was just out-of-touch. He lacked consideration for the emotional states of those affected severely by these recent attacks. He was jumping to conclusions with faulty information passed on by hearsay.

As the situation in the hospital became more desperate he would stay behind on-site, late into the evening. Whenever they had a break, he would disappear on calls. He acknowledged her judgements but remained standoffish whenever he was not working. She found nothing wrong with his conduct.

Over one break, he said, “I was supposed to be home last month, but with the situation being what it is, I decided to stay on until things are resolved.” He did not sit down, his attention turned towards the path back to the infected ward. “Bringing in a proper security detail at this stage—we’re sitting ducks. Who the hell does the Project Coordinator think we’re fooling?” Madeleine ignored him. “Dr. Swann. The Medical Coordinator tells me you’ve been involved in volunteer work for a while. Perhaps they would be more willing to listen to someone with your expertise.”

“I was not selected for my personal opinions.”

Dr. Kessler chuckled. “Well, may I run something by you? In confidence.” Madeleine glanced over at him. “I think, what we are dealing with here is something more dangerous than a few terrorists. When these IDPs come in, with all of the cases I've seen, there is no evidence of the chemical agent on their clothing. The mines should have been shut down months ago, but they have not ceased operation.” He looked at her meaningfully. “Tell me, how does this make sense?”

A moment of recognition passed between them. She could not acknowledge him outright. Her father had many enemies and it was foolhardy to assume they would not follow her to the ends of the earth. She looked at Dr. Kessler and saw an honest man. She said,

“With all due respect, I wouldn’t know about the greater picture. I don’t want to say anything if I cannot back it up. It seems strange because we don't have all the information to explain it, but there must be a logical reason.”

Dr. Kessler nodded. Probably marking her down as another of those young idealists, just here to get her stamp.

So Madeleine changed the topic to something more palatable: “You have been late the last several times we worked together. May I ask why?” His expression faltered into a temporary window of vulnerability. “I shouldn’t have been so blunt. But you leave often enough on calls, and it appears to be taking a toll on you. The medical staff are not in a reasonable state of mind.”

“That’s all right. It’s just my wife and son. This past month has been no easier on them.” Then he looked at her. “A lot of these people we care for don’t have the luxury of a plane ticket home. Sometimes, I think it would be easier to do this work alone.”

Madeleine did not anticipate the conversation to take such a turn, nor did she plan to divulge much about herself. But she could not deflect from answers as she could in the clinic, and Kessler seemed forthright enough to warrant a harmless response. “I know what you mean. Right now, I’m living with a friend. We graduated from university together. He tends to lead his own life while I am away, but he is very understanding of what I do.”

“It’s a great deal to ask of someone.” Madeleine inclined her head in his direction. Kessler’s mouth was set, and his eyes behind the glasses disillusioned. “Few people would devote themselves to a thankless vocation as this out of the goodness of their hearts. Just remember that not everyone is going to want to stick around until you decide you’re ready to settle down.”

Madeleine’s smile did not touch her eyes. “He’s a psychologist. We have an understanding, that’s all. I don’t bother him about his social life.”

Kessler shook his head. In a few minutes they were back to work, as if their conversation had never happened.

As July carried on, she found her mind snagging easily on technicalities. She became less tolerant of the Psychological Unit’s personal hang-ups with the lack of resources and lack of any obvious moral closure. Smell of rot and disinfectant permeated into her clothing and hair until she had begun to associate the smell itself with a lack of progress.

She kept the window in her hotel room cracked, just to let some fresher air in. The room smelled like gasoline and sweat, but it was better than the alternatives. A little noise pollution kept her aware of her surroundings, alone with her own mind and the recorder. Conversations with the IDPs and their families circled back to death and terrorism. An overwhelming fear of retaliation from some formless, looming insurrection.

Madeleine paused the recording. She checked the time and cursed under her breath. Just past one in the morning. In six hours she would return to Donka Hospital and repeat the process. In a week she would be on a flight back to Paris.

Outside her window she heard the distant voice of Dr. Kessler. He was conversing in German, from a few storeys down, right by the outdoor pool. As Madeleine came over to the window she understood him clearly:

“…we’ve seen evidence of PMCs coming through, exhibiting the same symptoms as the IDPs we treated back in February. How we can expect to make any progress if the Project Coordinator refuses to bring this up? We’re putting God-knows how many lives at risk waiting for a vaccine that we don’t know if we need—and even so, it won’t be ready for another month. There’s not enough time to justify keeping silent about….”

Madeleine closed the window carefully. She’d never been one to intrude on personal matters.

⁂

That night Madeleine’s dreams were interspersed with the sounds of sirens and heavy traffic. She woke up the next morning, unrested and sore, an hour early. Watching the shadows on the ceiling cross over peeling paint. At 07:00 she got ready for the day. Exiting her room, she found the Project Coordinator by the elevators, talking with the head of security from SFT and a couple Donka Hospital staff Madeleine knew by sight but not intimately.

Apparently a surplus of medical supplies had arrived by truck, around three or four in the morning. Several members of the Medical Unit had stayed on-site in order to determine if everything had been accounted for only to find out it was rigged. Thanks to the intervention of the PSD, losses were minimal. Several doctors had suffered chemical exposure and were currently isolated from the rest of the IDPs to receive immediate medical attention. Others, such as Dr. Kessler and the psychologist consultant from the Psychosocial Team, had been less fortunate.

Now there was additional pressure from the hospital doctors and Logistics Team to begin moving the high-risk patients to a safer area. The fear that this story would circulate and any chance of obtaining additional supplies would be discouraged could not be ruled out. So they would not be reporting this as a chemical attack, but as an interception of a failed attack by local terrorists.

The head of security, Lucifer Safin, noticed her first. Black suit, a leather gun holster on his left side. Distinctly scarred from his right temple to the base of his left jaw. Too intricate to be leprosy or a typical burn wound, yet the structure of his eyes and nose remained intact. Possibly chloracne? “Dr. Swann. I understand that you were one of the last to speak with Dr. Kessler?”

Up until this point, they'd not talked. She might just catch a glimpse of him walking with a couple soldiers in the morning heat; in spite of the weather she had never seen Safin without leather gloves.

There was a hushed quality to his voice which might indicate internal damage, but he was able to project without difficulty. Accent would suggest a Czech or Russian ethnicity, but his complexion and eye colour invited room for speculation. His manner wasn’t explicitly taciturn, more akin to the disconcerting silence one might experience while looking into a body of still-water—met only with your reflection.

“Yes,” said Madeleine, “but that was nearly five days ago.”

Safin glanced at the Project Coordinator. “I’ll speak with her alone.”

“Of course.”

They walked down the length of the hall back to her room. His gait was purposeful and direct.

Of all the useless things to be thinking about, his name was what stuck out to her. After growing up in a family with fake passports and birth certificates it was possible Lucifer was simply an alias.

Her attention went to the window. She’d forgotten to lock it.

He said, “I have just a few questions. What was the extent of your relationship to Dr. Kessler?”

“We talked once or twice. I didn’t know him that well. He told me he had stayed behind, in order to assist the medical unit. And he has―had a family, back home. He seemed close to them.”

“You have worked with him before?”

“Never directly. I have my own responsibilities with the Psychosocial Unit.” Safin said nothing. He was looking around carefully at the room, the furniture. His eyes came to rest on the window. He walked over to it. “From what I have gathered, Dr. Kessler and the Project Coordinator had opposing views on protocol.”

“Did he speak to you about these views?”

Madeleine thought about their last conversation. The desperate look in Kessler's eyes. That moment of connection, tacit and fragile.

“He expressed, in confidence, that he did not understand the Project Coordinator’s hesitance to bring in a security detail. He considered the possibility of an attack by outside forces to be imminent.”

“You are aware,” Safin said, “that once humanitarian action is subsumed into broader military and political intervention, it may be perceived as interference.”

He was looking at her closely. The early morning light put his disfigurement into a new, unsettling clarity. Madeleine said, “I think you would be better off asking the other doctors about this.”

“We have video surveillance in place on the Grand Hotel de L’independence. At around one in the morning, Dr. Kessler exited the building and contacted an unknown party by mobile phone. A minute later, you were at the window.”

“Yes, I had forgotten to close it.”

“Your room was the only one to show signs of activity at that hour.”

“I was reviewing my notes from that day’s session. I heard a voice from outside, though not clearly. It was distracting me, so I got up and closed the window. I don’t know what the conversation was about.”

“This is common for you?”

“I left the window open because otherwise I seem to find myself trapped with the smell of rotting flesh.”

Safin’s expression became easier to read, but not in a positive sense. Madeleine kept any apprehension away from her face and her voice tightly controlled.

“Without information about Dr. Kessler’s lifestyle outside the MSF, I cannot give you an answer in good faith. His work was sound. Whatever he said to me was assumed to be in confidence. Many people say things to one another in what they believe to be confidence that they would not admit to otherwise. If I had reason to suspect he was unfit to work, I would have contacted the Medical Advisor immediately.”

Safin held her gaze for much longer than was necessary. She did not dare avert her face. He said,

“The Project Coordinator is waiting for you downstairs. We appreciate your cooperation.”

The rest of the day she spent in a different wing of the hospital. The Psychosocial Unit was cut down from four members to two. Another day of thankless work that never seemed quite good enough. That evening, Madeleine was informed she would have to stay on to make up for lost ground, at least until August. The MSF offered a lot of flowery, empty apologies which she accepted because there was nothing else to do.

When she’d arrived at the airport she could stave off her doubts with shallow, private reassurances. Right now, you are just Dr. Swann the psychiatrist. Your father is many miles away and he won’t contact you again unless you call him to grovel. No one else will come looking for you in a place like this. Undoubtedly this hospital was safer under the watch of the Security Manager from SFT than it would have been with the FSPs alone. Why was she still tense?

⁂

By August, the sunnier days gave way almost completely to rainfall. The wing of the hospital that had suffered the chemical attack was still closed and they had lost several more staff members. Madeleine and the remaining MSF were encouraged by the Project Coordinator to take earlier shifts. Progress remained steady, neither faltering nor immediate, but there was no clear resolution in sight. The stench of rot imprinted into Madeleine’s senses to the point where she no longer consciously registered her own nausea. Discontent among the staff continued to bubble under the surface on account of the closed wing and bad press.

At night, Madeleine would pore over her notes, listening to the passing automobiles and indistinct conversation. She drew the curtains in her hotel room and tied her hair back. Even indoors it was impossible to avoid the cloying embrace of humidity.

The day started as just another humid morning at six AM. Madeleine rose and prepared herself mentally for the day ahead. There was an inordinate of activity on the road outside her window as she got dressed and left. Madeleine was thinking about how stress kept her mind working late into the night, but her position with the Psychosocial Unit barred her from working too many hours in the hospital. She was keeping up the pace, not yet to the point of exhaustion, but if they were seriously going to ask her to carry on into September she would have to find an alternative.

Outside the hotel she met up with the Medical Coordinator and a few members of the Logistics Unit. They spent about ten minutes standing idle in the humid air, too weary to speak. The usual FSP were on-guard by the hotel. Ever since the attack on Donka Hospital there were more of them standing around.

An unmarked black Jeep pulled up. The Medical Coordinator went up to it first. One of the FSP shouted in French. The Medical Coordinator’s head burst over the exterior of the vehicle, and Madeleine. The body slumped like a doll to the dirt. Madeleine wanted to scream but could not. She turned and saw Peter Miller, head of Logistics, facing down the barrel of a rifle. “Where are the rest of the MSF? Why are they not at the hospital?” Half a dozen more men stood behind him, all armed.

Miller opened his hands in supplication. “I don't understand what you're—”

Two shots. Miller joined the Medical Coordinator. The insurgent was looking at Madeleine.

“You are from the hospital?” The rifle jutted into her sternum. Warm blood spattered across her skin and clothes, pooling at her feet. The sight of dry earth briefly mixed up with wooden floorboards. “You allowed them to experiment on us and our families like dogs! Who gave you the orders?”

She tried to say, I'm sorry, I don’t understand, but all that came out of her was a weak little gasp. One PSD broke from the group and came directly toward her.

She caught his black eyes, under the balaclava. The scarification impossible to mistake. He turned and shot the insurgent twice in the the head. He grabbed Madeleine by the waist, the way you might handle an animal, and opened the backdoor of the Jeep. Shoved her into the backseat. Checked the seatbelt. Shut the door. The front doors reopened. Two men entered the car. The hands on the steering wheel were mottled.

Additional round of gunfire set her into a fit of trembling. She ducked with her hands over her nape. The distinctive voice in the front seat overtaken by the roaring in her ears. She heard a voice whispering, “Ne me tuez pas. Je n’ai rien fait. Je ne sais rien.”

#user: dorminchu #fanfic #fanfiction #canon divergence #madeleine swann #lyutsifer safin #original characters #teamcivilian #007 fest #007 fest 2022

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thelibraryofflowers · 1 year

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50 Stars in Our Sky (tSBoM 5)

🟄 50 Stars in Our Sky is one of my older projects, and one I absolutely adore! Here's a quick summary:

After learning that she's going to be moving to London for her senior year, 17-year-old Bella Armani decides to assemble a group of well-known - and in her mind, misunderstood - students from her school and take them on the adventure of a lifetime.

Basically, a girl gets three people she doesn't really know (but wants to know) together to travel the world with her over the course of summer break before she has to move across the world and away from where she grew up. It's got a lot of themes of found family & some romance in there as well :>. They deserve a nice introduction considering I mess their lives up quite a bit their senior year & first year or so after graduating. Sorry guys. As these are chapter 2 characters, connections include: going to the same school as Arrow and Felipa McVans, Arrow's best friend Brandon Lui, and Arrow's boyfriend Rowan. They also attend the same school as Ellie Shapiro (one of Brandon's friends), the Flair, Cujobu, and Munez families.

🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆

(ages will be when they're introduced, birthdays will be the year they were born. These characters are from chapter 2!)

〘Bella Armani - the popular girl〙 ❊ she/her // heterosexual ❊ 5'7" ❊ Aged 17 ❊ White ❊ 2020 ❊ Best friends with Zoey Chen, Zach St James, and Sam Hannaby 〘About〙 Bella is fairly well known at her school (her old school, not the one she goes to for senior year), but she still doesn't really have any good friends. She's persuasive and caring, two qualities that helped her get her classmates (particularly Zach) on board with the trip.

〘Zachary "Zach" St James - the bad boy〙 🕮 he/him // bisexual 🕮 5'5" 🕮 Aged 17 🕮 Mexican American 🕮 2020 🕮 best friends with Bella Armani and Zoey Chen, dating Sam Hannaby 〘About〙 Zach has gotten the reputation for being the bad boy at his school, which isn't wrong. He's basically there if you want to rent a guy to piss off your parents, relatives, frenemies, exes, you name it. He rather liked that, considering he got to meet and know so many new people - but after he fell in love with someone using him even more than everyone else, he couldn't really get back into it. Zach's also really smart. Despite most parents hating him for his reputation, he continued to become his class's valedictorian (which surprised and annoyed multiple stuck-up parents and teachers). While most people expect him to be some stuck-up rich boy, he's actually a rather humble person who grew up with his single mom after they immigrated from Mexico when Zach was young. He's kind, shy, and caring, and always willing to help out a friend in need.

〘Samuel "Sam" Hannaby - the baseball captain〙 ♡ he/him // gay ♡ 6'1" ♡ Aged 17 ♡ White ♡ 2020 ♡ Best friends with Bella Armani and Zoey Chen, dating Zach St James 〘About〙 Sam has tried to come out about six times, and every time, nearly everyone except his parents just told him he was confused. It's exhausting. That's why meeting Bella Armani, who said she didn't think he was confused, was one of the best things to happen to him - particularly because she introduced Sam to Zach, who later becomes his boyfriend. (I have to apologize the most to these two, because college is pretty rocky relationship-wise. They get a happy ending though, I promise.) Sam's a great listener, mostly because that's what he needed when he was younger and he doesn't want anyone to be without someone they can talk to.

〘Zoey Chen - the quiet girl〙 ✉ she/her // aromantic asexual ✉ 5'10" ✉ Aged 17 ✉ Chinese ✉ 2020 ✉ Best friends are Bella Armani, Sam Hannaby, and Zach St James 〘About〙 Zoey's probably the most known of the group regarding who she really is, which is the head of the assignment black market at school. Need an essay on the American civil war? She's got one that's guaranteed to get an A, and nobody knows where she got it from. Her dream is to run her own business, which - knowing her - won't be that difficult to achieve.

🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆♡🟆

Thank you so much to anyone who stuck around to read all of this! I'm thankful for you <3 These characters are some of my favorites, even if I torture them a bit after 50 Stars in Our Sky is over. Sorry guys.

#oc intro #wip #tSBoM #50 stars in our sky

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hoxooster · 2 years

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sorry if this is weird or anything but finding out that you're a trans man made me immediately feel so much safer in the payday community. it's probably because i'm transmasc as well so i automatically feel safer around other trans people than cis people, but also FPS games have a reputation for having a lot of bigoted assholes in their fanbase so i was worried it'd be the same with pd but not really!! and it makes me so pleased. look at us! one of our biggest bloggers is a trans guy! ain't that nice. anyways just. thank you for being so pleasant especially to newbies. it's really appreciated. have a good day/night/whateverthefuck

No, no! It isn't weird! My ma's a teacher at a Middle/High School and she's had students over the years who became more comfortable in her class once they found out that I'm trans. I've even had private conversations with them to help them through their issues, when they ask for my input. It's a comfort to know that somewhere is a safe space, because someone else is open about being in the LGBTQIA+ community and is accepted. Especially when it's in the video game sphere.

'Cause I've been there. I've had instances where I was accused of being a 12-14 year old boy (I prefer these by a loooooooong mile). Other times when people thought that I was a girl, got creepy, and went, "Where do you live?" (I shudder to think if I'll ever encounter someone who has a trans-fetish. I've seen 'em on Tumbles over the years, and I really don't want that energy pointed at me when I'm trying to game. Or at all.) And even worse times when I've had revulsion directed my way. It hurts less when people kick me from a lobby or leave mine over it, 'cause at least I don't have to listen to their remarks. I get enough bullshit and ostracization from my own family--I don't need more from randos.

However, all of that being said, most people tend not to care and are pretty chill. Hell, I met my best friend through PD:TH, and he was 1,000% unfazed by my being trans. I still have that conversation saved, because I had honestly never experienced such kindness to me coming out to someone before. I have since then, but he was the first. And to think that it all stemmed from my great aunt rudely outing me to him, 'cause she hates me now for being trans, despite us being very close when I was a kid.

You win some and you lose some, I guess. Not much of a loss considering all that I've gained, though.

So, yes. I'm nice to everyone, 'cause ffffffffuuuuuuuuuck, have I been there, dude. I've gotten shit over my playstyle, my builds, my choice in masks and guns and heisters and difficulties and friends, and even for just existing. And after all that bullshit and pain and annoyance, I decided, "Ya know what? Someone's gotta say 'no' and bring some fuckin' joy to people's lives. I'm here, so I'll do it." 'Cause bein' nice takes just as much time and energy as it does to be an asshole, and I'd rather be nice. I may not have had good vibes directed at me in the past, but by golly am I gonna make sure that you guys get some here.

I'm glad that you're part of the Crew, mate. Stay safe, have fun, and keep those helmets flying!

#ask hoxooster a question #long post warning #personal stories #The funny thing about Jenice trying to out me is that Wolfee couldn't really understand her.#He thought that my name was 'Walter' at first which is funny 'cause that's one of my nicknames.#There's a CSI: Las Vegas episode that deals with trans people so that's where I got the nickname.#*Waves a hand around.* Anyway yeah. Peeps can be dicks in team games.#But don't let that stop you from having fun.#'Cause you never know. You might meet some of the coolest people you never would have otherwise.#It's just like everything else. Gotta put yourself out there to find good returns.#And this is a safe space 'cause we work together to MAKE it so. :3 #So I hope that you enjoy your time here!

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studiojeon · 3 years

Text

use me | jjk

this is part of my troubled outsiders series. i think you can read this by itself though :)

| summary | - Jungkook was not someone to establish relationships and bonds out of interest, you knew that. Or maybe not, truth be told, he was an authentic enigma, so open yet so closed and shielded from others to see through, and that didn’t exclude you.

warnings: language (?), mentions of hook ups and situationships. mentions of emotional trauma.

contents: a compilation of moments that contributed to the growth of their relationship, jungkook is hard to read, jungkook is hard to read, jungkook is hard to read and sus. oc is kinda whipped and scared af. chaeryeong knows who you are and where you live. jk and oc are scared to let each other in. friends to lovers, idol!jungkook x student!oc.

author’s note: i hate this, but i have to get it off my chest. (the narration is off af but if i keep it in my drafts for longer this will never see the light of the day). p.s. thank u so much for the support on the last drabble <3

playlist: rain by trey songz (feat. swae lee).

words: 4.75k

“JK?” as his broad back faces you, you call out his name timidly, not missing the way he swiftly turns around as soon as he hears his name come from your lips. Hair wet and darker than usual, a very big sweat stain at the center of his hoodie. He had just gotten out of practice, you assumed.

“___?” he replied with the initials of your name as well, one of his tired grins plastered on his face, he must have been exhausted. You had caught on to him just as he walked out of the practice room in front of the elevator on your way to your office, right when you needed him, but now you weren’t so sure if it was a good idea to pester him. Even so, you didn’t know anyone else you could ask for help, aside from Linh who was currently in her own office doing other tasks you had assigned to her.

“Are you busy right now?” your eyes stare at him shyly, in hopes that he was willing to help you out, because you wanted to be around him, so maybe he could share a bit of his positive energy with you, the past week had been hellish. “Could use some help returning all those heavy stacks of paper in my office”.

“Of course! Why didn’t you give me a call earlier though? It’s pretty late” he walked by your side and you enter the elevator, beginning your adventure around the company.

Jungkook was fun. Always bubbly and reciprocative, constantly trying his best to make you laugh and make the absolute best of your situation, even if he could be a bit stubborn at times. You liked the spontaneity he provided though, the way he would switch from one topic to another and how he would make silly faces at you whenever you locked eyes.

He didn’t know, but in pure ignorance, he had just made your day ten times better.

In the past week, you had received a lot of counterarguments, one by one, on how useless your management tactics were. Granted, you hadn’t expected for your ideas to be welcomed with open arms, but at least you had hoped they would take them into consideration. You had also been assigned a team, in charge of social media management, who worked monotonously and with little to no insertion in the actual target audience… your logic was: how can you advertise products to an audience you don’t even have the mere interest to know? You had designed a strategy, presented it, and no one paid any mind to you.

But for the most part, you felt lonely. Had no one to talk to, nor go to whenever you needed your spirits to be lifted up.

Chaeryeong was busy busy with group projects and work. To the extent where she would get up at seven in the morning and come back at 12 pm. It wasn’t always like that, so you didn’t worry too much, but the fear she would wear herself off like usual still crowded your mind.

You close your office door with a sigh. Tired from everything, but somehow, your heart a little fuller, knowing that maybe you could use Jungkook in the future to give you a lift. Both figuratively and literally because he had offered to drive you home, being the gentleman he was.

“Why do you look like a sad puppy?” he asked you once you were sitting by his side in his very expensive and luxurious mercedes. Tinted windows and jet black shiny paint covered the outside of his car, the smell of air refresher and pinecone filling the inside. Mans was getting hotter by the minute.

“It’s friday night after the longest week of work. How can I not?” you put on your seat belt and lean back against the leather cushions. He pouts in response to you, with a concerned look on his face.

For a second you wonder if he did this with most coworkers… being nice to them and offering them drives after having met them just a few times before. Kinda risky behviour, considering his position and squeaky clean reputation. You figure this would only last a bit before he realized he had more important things to be focusing on.

“Do you ever get chased home?” you ask randomly.

With one hand on the wheel and the other leaned against his door he meditated on his response. “It happened once… And then I moved out, got a new car and everything. Shit was wild” he chuckles and you think that was the first time you had heard him curse, like ever. Jungkook, friendly and everything, wasn’t too big of a talker, but with you he found himself spilling, without giving it much thought. It felt refreshing to hear his voice and listen to his stories and the way he expressed himself. He was more interesting than he seemed, apparently. “Aren’t you hungry, by the way? We can have something to eat before i drop you off”

Traffic was hellish in Seoul everyday at every hour, and choosing to drive through Itaewon on a friday night wasn’t the smartest decision on Jungkook’s behalf, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him that. Considering the demands of his job, he probably didn’t know his way around the city that well. You conclude taking a detour wouldn’t hurt. “I’m starving actually.”

He ends up taking you to a restaurant near your neighborhood you had mentioned being good and not crowded at all, the latter catching his attention immediately. It was a modest but nice place owned by a very funny and loud ahjussi. The man had lost count of how many times you had come down from your apartment at 11 pm and asked him to make you vegetarian tteokguk, but they were enough so that he could memorize your five orders by heart and the amount of saewoo mandu you could down by yourself in five minutes. You were making him rich at that point so the least he could do was comply when you gently asked him to shut the place down for you. Jungkook hadn’t asked you, but you knew how things could get awkward and dangerous quickly if too many people found out about him being there. “Ahjussi, you don’t have to” the boy protested as he noticed that the man had shut the blinds for him.

“It’s okay, boy. _____ has been single handedly paying the remnants of my mortgage for over a year now, I don't mind doing this for her.” he joked in his usual nature. already writing down your order and patiently waiting for Jungkook in front of you to voice out what he wanted for a meal. “And well, you and your friends are making our country proud, it’s the least i can do to thank you”

“Ah, thank you.” Jungkook bows to the older man. Your heart softened in your chest, seeing how considerate he was towards other people. He must be great with parents, you think. “Do you really not get that many people around here?” he asked worriedly once he sat back down on the wooden chair.

“We do! But she’s the one who comes the most often” he nods toward you and Jungkook smiles once he found your gaze, a glint of playfulness in his eyes.

“Can you recommend me anything, miss?”

“Of course, sir. Yeol-ah, double up my order. Drinks are on me today.” You yell at the man’s son in the kitchen, who was still a bit older than you, but also close to enough to let you order him around shamelessly. You knew him quite well, actually. He was Chaeryeong’s boyfriend after all.

The tall boy pokes his head out of the kitchen door with a very confused expression plastered on his face. “Aren’t we supposed to close in like, an hour?” Chanyeol asks his dad in front of you.

“Just go cook, I'll explain later”.

The two men go back into the kitchen and Jungkook looks at you with an amused expression on his face. “What was that?” he laughs.

“I’m very popular, you know?” it probably wasn’t a good idea to go there, but you felt a little drunk on his voice that night, and you also knew your friend didn’t mind. “In fact, Chaereyong from ITZY is my best friend, who would have guessed?”

“Yeah and my son is her boyfriend, who cares?” Byung-ho yells back at you from the cashier, pulling a hiss from your lips.

Jungkook still continued to stare at the both of you with confusion and intrigue, you guess he thought you were both joking.

“Wait, really?” he utters after a few seconds with big doe eyes and a pout on his lips, a combination that appeared when he was either confused or lying, which wasn’t the case then.

“Yes, my guy.” you laugh. “That juicy legged shortie is indeed my wife”

Jungkook loved the food, to say the least. It was all vegetarian and korean as fuck, a combination he never throught was possible, but downed like thristy camel. He was a loud eater, which was fitting of him and his politeness, something else you had noticed that night. You were the opposite, and actually despised the sounds of other people eating, yet, looking at him enjoying his meal so much made you feel full yourself. He made you feel like a kid in some ways too, brought back the times when being around others wasn’t so hard, and you still could have a sense of security around you. Talking to him was rather easy, maybe because of his welcoming nature, or because in fact he actually was interested in whatever stupid shit you were saying, something most people around you didn’t do. He also, amongst other things, seemed very interested in your job and the likes, always asking questions and absorbing information like a five year old. You had explained to him the five key steps of process design and the psychological effects on marketing in society to which he always responded with wide gentle eyes and attentive nods, not once looking bored or… annoyed in any way.

Was he like that, with every girl? Because you weren’t anything special, there were many other girls who worked with him everyday and even if you hadn’t seen him in his work space, you could guess by the way most women in your company look at him whenever he passes by that either they were just as captivated as you by his beauty or that he had fucked them. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was just trying to get into your pants either, it wouldn’t be the first time it happened to you nonetheless.

“I can walk from here, JK” you mention once you found yourselves walking towards the parking lot. A bit sad about the expense you had just made on food, it was your fault for trying to seem cool and rich, neither of which you were.

“Oh no, I’m not letting you do that, girlie” he unlocks the door and gets in, not even letting you finish or allowing you to fight back.

“My apartment is literally a block away” you protest in the car anyways. You fear you had been too much of a bother, and deep down, didn’t want him to feel like you were seeking his presence unnecessarily.

“Well, good for you. But, you paid for the food, which was a lot, and i don’t want my sugar mommy walking by herself at 12 pm on a friday night” you first freeze, and then burst a very loud giggle.

“Whatever” you slap his bicep and roll your eyes. “ Next time you can pay if it bothers you so much.”

“So there will be a next time?” wide eyes stare back at you. “Count me in. I´ll pick where we will be going, just lemme know when so i can plan ahead” he rambles, a little too excited about your suggestion.

He drops you off with a smile on his face and hopefulness in his eyes, promising to see you around the company. You, on the other hand, feel a tad confused as you enter your apartment building. What was going on?

You had overthought things so much your entire life that it suddenly became too tiring to do. During the past few years you had to learn how to detach yourself and just ride the wave sometimes. Once you had turned eighteen, everything started moving at a very fast pace, the pressure of adulthood fell upon you like a brick and everything was so overwhelming that you started to simply let the course of your existence take you wherever it needed to.

That’s how you ended up going out with Jungkook at least once a week for dinner or a drive around the city for more than two months. Without even noticing, he became so engraved in your everyday life that whenever he’d cancel plans because of work, you’d find yourself with a void in your heart and a rush of boredom filling your senses. Even if you found yourself in your living room with the company of your best friend whom you had seen at most four times in the past two months, you were still wishing you could share that intimate space with him instead, willing to let him a bit more into your life, in hopes that maybe he would do the same. Sue you, you were curious over the most intricate details about his personality, how his personal sanctuary looked and if the smell of his room is just as good as his car’s. You could bet a thousand dollars (maybe a little less, considering the unconventionalism that characterizes him) that he also had a few plants that only remembered to water three out of seven days of the week.

Hopefully life would draw you closer to more people like him.

"How's your boyfriend doing?" Chaeryeong asks you from the kitchen counter, sweet popcorn cooking in you popcorn-maker.

You sigh. "What boyfriend?"

She was a lot of things but oblivious, and you weren't either, just when you chose to be. "Cut the bullshit, you know who i'm talking about". The fake red head waits for your response as she pours the snack into a big bowl, and you on the other hand take this as an advange to search around the room for answers.

"He's just a friend" you say. "And he's fine, i guess… He doesn't really talk much about himself" you mention, matter of factly.

Chaeryeong nods beside you, understanding what you meant. Then, proceeds to tell a tale about her experience meeting the dark haired boy. "He's literally so quiet, but like, so incredibly kind. Once he tripped over and fucked up some of the decoration at an award show" she grabs a popcorn and continues her story. "He looked so panicked I thought his eyes were about to jump out their sockets — His eyes are huge, by the way."

"I know" you smile.

"My point is, he started to help the staff put everything back in order again. I think he's the only idol I've ever seen do something like that… i decided i liked him then" her beautiful features light up with mischief. "I bet he fucks great too."

You slap her leg. Hard.

"I'm only telling you this now so you don't get caught of guard when he actually manages to fuck you," her soft hands run through your messy hair, motherly touches easing the fluster in your body. "You know he's a big whore, right?" She adds after a while.

You didn't. According to Chaeryeong, who seemed to keep tabs on every single colleague of hers, Jungkook had quite the body count, not that you didn't have your suspicions before. Frankly, she only knew of two girls inside her company who had had some sort of situationship with him, but for the same reason, she also knew he had some history with other girls from different groups. "Yikes" you laugh nervously, in admiration of their ability to remain calm and collected without giving anything away to the public.

Thanks to your friend, you had heard lots of tea about other singers in the korean industry before, most of which were not as sweet or kind as they portrayed themselves to be, some even using their social status to get their way with girls. But for some reason, Jungkook had never made his way to your gossipping sessions, nor any other of his band mates (except for Jimin, who, if you remember correctly, used to have some sort of beef with one of Chaeryeong's company members). You guess it was because of his unproblematic nature that people chose to give him a pass for his sexual endeavors, not that they were of anyone's concern either.

A knock is heard against your office door. "Miss _____?" A girl with a brown bob cut pokes her head through it, the dim lights of your office shining upon her incredibly healthy locks. "Jungkook asked me to deliver this to you" sliding completely into the room, she places a box with a note on it on your desk.

"Thank you so much" you wave her off as she walks right out.

The package had a strawberry flavored canned tea and a bento box inside.

"I remember you telling me you'd never tried tofu pancakes before, so I made some for you last night. Hope you enjoy! - JK

P.S. Text me when you're done, maybe we can hang out tonight."

You felt like crying, in all honesty. The pancakes were heavenly, and he even added some slices of avocado and a few scoops of rice for you, despite not being the biggest fan of the fruit himself. With a warm heart and relief washing over your body because you wouldn't have to waste money on lunch that day, you had had half of your meal before said boy gave you a call.

"Did you like them?" He said almost immediately. "My assistant told me she already delivered them to you" he adds in a rush.

"Jesus boy, calm down." You giggle at his excitement. "Let me eat in peace".

"No, tell me right now." he demands with a fake angry voice. Cutie.

"They're alright".

"Figured… you have no sense of taste anyways" the hangs up. A giggle escapes your lips. Boy was something else.

Later that day, the weekend started it's course. Jungkook had offered to drive you to the Han River, careful to mention the fact he prepared a bunch of snacks for you two just about five times during your call. The place was almost empty, given that the rest of the city was doing something else more fun than staring at the night sky while sitting on itchy grass. Yet, you wouldn't change the setting for anything else. Usually, when you and Jungkook were out, he'd be in silent wary of your surroundings and the people who could be watching you. It broke your heart, knowing that most of the time he couldn't frequent places most regular people had the pleasure of enjoying, like the movies, for example, or a food stand in the middle of the street. Still, in that moment, the handsome man in front of you seemed as relaxed as ever, munching on grapes and strawberries as he sat in silence beside you.

"This blanket is so soft, isn't it?" he commented all of a sudden, caressing the fabric with his hand. The thing was made out of polar fleece, no shit. You just nodded and grabbed a piece of fruit from his container. "One of my friends gifted it to me on my birthday" he adds.

"I know. It was me".

"Well, maybe you do have a sense of taste after all" he complies as he lays down on the surface, eyes facing the night sky above you.

"Says the one who uses toe socks" you say back, poking his weak spot.

Instead of going back and forth with you as he usually would, he just winks and closes his eyes. He looked so peaceful and serene beneath you, features carefully carved on his face and slightly blushed cheeks from the cold wind. Jungkook was like that, randomly over confident and flirty with you, but just as quickly would refrain from even disagreeing with you in the first place, scared that you would snap at him. He hadn't told you this, but the way you saw thoughts hidden in his eyes whenever you made a statement let you know his true intentions, leaving you to wonder where that came from.

"Are you tired?" You ask after a few minutes. Still with his eyes closed, Jungkook denies.

"I just don't want to look at you right now," he turns to the side, back facing you as an offended expression finds its way to your face.

"Yah" you slap his back playfully, not letting him finish.

"Because you look too pretty." he mumbles the remnants of his statement.

Your breath catches in your throat as a shiver climbs its way down your spine. Why was he like that? He had no right tugging on your heart strings like that (if he was being serious in the first place because you never knew with him). You sigh, the blush his words provoked stinging your cheeks.

"You're supposed to say I'm pretty too" he turns around with a playful smile, expectant.

"You just go around giving compliments so you can get them back?" you hiss. "Why so insecure?"

"I'm not insecure, at all." He sits up again, ready to fight you and anyone who dares question the grandiosity of the confidence he had worked so hard for. "You can ask Linh about that".

To say you looked horrified was an understatement, hopeful that what you thought he meant was not it. "You fucked Linh?"

"Well, that's not for you to know".

What a gentleman, you think. And at the same time, ouch. He had just slammed a door on your face.

"That would explain the way she looks at you whenever you come by the office" you realize. Frankly, the girl looked a bit too panicked whenever Jungkook decided to barge into your space, usually bored out of his mind during his english lessons, laptop and notebook in hand, or struggling to get the questions right.

"Well good afternoon to you too" you ironically greeted once he sat in front of you, frustration written on his face. Linh, who stood by your side, suddenly fidgeting with the papers in her hand.

"Not the time, _____" he slammed both hands on your desk, startling you and your friend beside you. "Why the fuck did you make me enroll into this in the first place?"

"I did not make you do anything, dude. I just gave you an idea" you excused yourself, eyes back on your computer. You didn't miss the way Jungkook's eyes briefly followed Linh out the room, though.

His eyes looked back at you, leg bouncing impatiently on the floor as he leaned back with a pissed off expression on his face. You'd never seen him this way, so you took that as a cue to enter under paid therapist mode. "What's wrong?" You questioned gently.

"I feel incredibly incompetent right now." His hands roamed across his face with frustration. A sigh escaped his lips as he held tears back. "School's always been this way for me, always trying my best and constantly underachieving" he explained.

He was obsessed with winning, you’d even go as far to say more than he was with his job (which was a lot). It didn’t root from narcissistic behaviour though, but rather out of external pressure to constantly overachieve and exceed expectations. He was mostly good at doing that, but everyone had an achilles heel, yours was reading for example, his was studying and school.

"Jungkook, you passed most of your classes with more than 90%, what are you talking about?" a fact he had brought up to you randomly when you mentioned absolutely nearly failing most of your literature classes.

"Yeah, except for English." he shook his head in the way he would when he'd feel conflicted or insecure. "I don't know what i'm doing wrong".

"Did you fail something?" you tried to get some more insight into the situation, still unsure of where all his worries came from.

"No, there's just this sentence I can't properly put together" he turned his notebook towards you. "Ah, just look"

There were some words he had to conjugate and properly place in order to form a grammatically correct sentence, more than five attempts written in neat penmanship on the page evidenced the boy's battle with the assignment. He missed one very important aspect of it, though. "There's a fucking word that's missing, dude" you explain, grabbing the pen from his hand and showing him where the mistake was. "It's not your fault, it's the teacher's".

Jungkook's serious expression didn't go away though. "Well, damn".

You had some sort of emotional trauma with having people ask you for help, it made you think that they didn’t actually care for you as a person but rather just your skills. That was the way you’d grown up and what your position in society seemed to be as well, the one you could butter up and taste when you got bored. Heart had been broken many times too, whenever you’d realize what you thought to be a genuine connection was merely pure interest. Those thoughts clouded your head when Jungkook would randomly enter your office with a frustrated expression on his face, yet, that occurred less often than it didn’t.

Jungkook was not someone to establish relationships and bonds out of interest, you knew that. Or maybe not, truth be told, he was an authentic enigma, so open yet so closed and shielded from others to see through, and that didn’t exclude you most of the time, hence your wish for him to let you in a bit more before you could allow yourself to free fall into whatever was going on between you both.

You reach for the fabric of his hoodie, tugging his sleeve with your fingers just because you really liked the color of it, and maybe because you wanted to feel closer to him. He doesn’t react to your touch, just looks at your hands briefly as they play with the edges of his clothing. “Where did you get this from?”

“An online store, I think.” he replies softly, reaching for your hand on his arm, caressing the surface of your nails. “It’s a unisex brand, i can send you their link afterwards.”

“Is it too expensive?” you inquire, not only to keep the moment afloat, but because you genuinely liked most of his pieces of clothing, especially his hoodies and shoes. Jungkook laughs at your question and looks at you with a smile.

“I don’t think i would know, ____. I’m rich.” he says, playfully. And he was right, what was expensive for you might just be cheap as fuck for him, you wonder if when a lot of money is in your hands you start to become very tuned out from what’s affordable or not anymore.

“True.”

“I can buy you one, though. I don’t mind.” he adds. Soft look in his eyes, a pure and genuine offer that you had to deny.

“I didn’t say i wanted one” you lie, only partially, because although you’d not mentioned it, you did actually want it. “I just think it’s pretty” you finally let go of him.

“Or do you think I look pretty in it?” he pushes, a sucker for compliments.

“Yeah, that might be it.” you admit, because there was no point in denying your irrefutable attraction to the man, as much as you hated to be vulnerable, especially in front of him.

“I think it would look prettier on you”.

Don´t copy or repost please. by studiojeon on tumblr.

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ravennm84 · 4 years

Text

Marinette’s Family Court Circus

I got this idea from a post @unmaskedagain and decided to put my own little spin to it. It’s a bit sad and does have my usual Lila-Salt spin, but I really loved writing this. Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!!

The day of her greatest triumph was also her greatest tragedy. Hawkmoth had finally been defeated, the butterfly and peacock miraculous back in the miracle box where they belonged, and Paris was finally safe.

However, when Gabriel Agreste was revealed to be the magical terrorist and his assistant, Nathalie, his accomplice, Adrien had been devastated. When the Paris police sought to find out the extent of Adrien's involvement, he had no choice but to reveal in a private interrogation room with only the mayor, Officer Roger, the chief of police, and Ladybug herself, his identity as Chat Noir. After which, Adrien said a tearful goodbye to Plagg and surrendered the ring of destruction to Ladybug. A press conference was held within an hour, absolving Adrien of any crimes in relation to his father, and his bodyguard would also be absolved four days later.

That night, after Ladybug had returned home and tearfully placed the ring, broch, and pin back in the miracle box; her parents and Grandma Gina had told her that they were going out to dinner to celebrate; Gina had even rented a car so they wouldn’t need to walk or take the subway. How Marinette wished that they had just gotten on the subway.

She woke up the following afternoon in the hospital. Apparently, her family weren’t the only people celebrating Hawkmoth’s defeat, and a car load of university students had celebrated too hard and T-boned their car while running a light. The doctors told her that her grandmother and father had died on impact and her mother passed away during surgery. Marinette had been extremely lucky to survive without any life threatening injuries; a broken leg, arm, collar bone, two cracked ribs, and a few lacerations across her body.

She was hardly paying attention to what the doctors were saying. Too shocked by the whole situation. There was no Miraculous Cure that could fix this. In the span of a single day, she had defeated her enemy, saved Paris, lost her partner, lost her grandmother, and her parents. She was alone.

When her family’s lawyer, M. Contere came to talk about custody, it was revealed that her grandmother was supposed to take custody in the event of her parents' deaths. Her grandfather would have been the next logical choice, but he had recently suffered a stroke and had been placed in a nursing home. This left the lawyer scrambling to find someone to take the girl or risk having her surrendered to the city of Paris.

Going through the Dupain-Chengs’ contact list, M. Contere made phone calls to numbers listed as family friends or emergency contacts. There were three that particularly stood out to him, all listed under the title of ‘uncle’.

The first was to an ‘Uncle J’; a woman answered the phone, introducing herself as Penny. When Contere told her it had to do with the Dupain-Chengs, the phone was handed to a man with a distinctly British accent. He sounded devastated to hear that Tom, Sabine, and Gina had all passed away before going into a panic and asking if Marinette was alright, showing absolute relief that she had survived the crash. When Contere mentioned the custody hearing, the man practically demanded to know the date, time, and place before promising that he would be there.

The second contact that stood out was labeled as ‘Uncle Tony’. That call was answered by an assistant named Jarvis before transferring the call to Tony. Again, Contere could hear the surprise and hurt at hearing that his friends had passed away before asking if Marinette had been in the car. When told that she had survived, there was relief and he mentioned that Peter would have probably cried for a week if he’d lost his childhood friend. Tony then offered to take custody of Marinette and Contere quickly told him the details.

Although M. Contere was relieved that at least two family friends/possible relatives seemed more than willing to take Marinette, he knew how fickle and difficult the courts could be and wanted as many options as possible for the girl, which led to the third contact labeled ‘Uncle Bruce’.

The phone was answered by an older sounding gentleman named Alfred before transferring the call. Contere could hear multiple voices in the background, most sounding like young men, and when he told Bruce about the passing of Tom, Sabine, and Gina; it went very quiet for a moment before all the voices began speaking at once demanding to know what happened, who was responsible, and if Marinette was okay. M.Contere answered the questions that he could and told them that Marinette was in need of a legal guardian. Bruce said Gina had been a great friend and mentor to him when he was younger and that he would be honored to care for her granddaughter. So he told him the details of the court hearing with the promise that he would make sure that Marinette was taken care of until then.

After hanging up, M. Contere had a strange feeling that he couldn’t shake. A feeling that told him that those three ‘Uncles’ were either going to make his job of getting Marinette into a stable home a lot easier… or it would be a total nightmare.

~oOo~

The day of the hearing was a Monday and Marinette's case was the first on the docket, which was a relief. If things went smoothly, she could be placed with one of her respective uncles by the end of the week and be taken care of. When the two of them stepped into the room, with Marinette rolling beside him in her wheelchair, M. Contere was surprised to see multiple familiar faces in the courtroom that he had not expected. Jagged Stone, Bruce Wayne, and Tony Stark were glaring, arguing, and puffing out their chests at each other; ignoring everyone else in the room. He also noticed how each man seemed to have an entire team of lawyers backing them up.

The tension and glaring match only broke when the two women; Pepper Potts and Penny Rolling, and the four Wayne boys; Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damien, noticed Marinette’s arrival.

“Marinette, sweetie, how are you feeling?” Penny asked as she walked away from Jagged to kneel beside Marinette’s wheelchair.

“Been better, but I’m glad to see some familiar faces,” she said with a weak smile.

Pepper leaned over a bit to give the girl a gentle hug while minding her injuries. “We’re here for you, Mari. No matter what.”

Then the four boys were almost surrounding her, offering to hunt down the people that took away their family and pile so many lawsuits on them that they’ll die of papercuts. This made her chuckle and grimace a bit from the pain, telling the boys that was sweet but unnecessary.

Jagged, Bruce, and Tony immediately put their argument on hold as they hurried over to check on the girl as well. Contere found it to be a good sign that Marinette seemed familiar with the three men, that they all asked how she was and if she wanted anything, as well as promising that they would take care of her. That last one, the three said at the same time and got them glaring at each other again. This caused Contere to sweat and Marinette to give her head a resigned shake.

What followed would probably go down as the most intense, well argued, and most headache-inducing case in the history of the Paris Family Court System with all three men vying for custody of the teenage girl.

Being able to provide financial stability wasn’t a concern as Jagged Stone was currently the most successful rockstar in Europe, Asia, Australia, and the Americas; while Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne were two of the wealthiest businessmen in the entire world. All three even offered to completely cover Marinette’s tuition to any school she wanted, so long as she was accepted.

Her safety turned out to be a large factor with all three men, and they were willing to hire their own private security to make sure that she stayed safe at all times. However, the three men also argued how the others lived in unsafe environments.

Jagged mostly lived in tour buses and out of hotels, which was a factor; but he was willing to call off his tours during the school year and only go on tour during school breaks so Marinette would never be without her guardian. Penny was also willing to help Jagged at every turn, stating that she loved Marinette like a niece and would make sure that she had a strong female role model in her life as well.

Tony’s reputation as a playboy and his identity as Iron Man brought up the possibility of attracting a dangerous element. He argued that his homes were equipped with the most advanced security systems on the planet. As well as being friends with an actual “God-Alien”, who had met Marinette and liked her a great deal. Tony was also willing to make Marinette her own personal Iron Suit that would be programmed to protect and fly her to a safe location at the first sign of danger. Pepper also offered to share custody as she already took care of Tony’s daily life as his assistant, taking care of Marinette would be easy and she was looking forward to having her around.

Bruce’s residence in Gotham, the most crime ridden city in North America, was a big factor. Bruce made a point that he already had experience as a guardian of his three adopted sons and his biological son, and they were kept safe. That he also had a top of the line security system at his home, which was located outside of city limits. Dick, Jason, and Tim also commented that they thought of Marinette like a little sister and that Wayne Enterprises had locations all over the world. If the judge decided that Gotham was too dangerous, one of them would gladly take up residency in a city that the judge approved and would stay there to watch over Marinette while still working and providing for her.

After two hours of listening to the back and forth of the three men and their lawyers, the judge decided that he’d heard enough for the day and set the next meeting for the following Thursday after lunch. He also recommended that the men bring proof that they have the mental capability of caring for a teenage girl, lists of schools near their homes to show that she will continue her education, and character witnesses, if available.

The three men wanted to take Marinette out to get something to eat after the court was adjourned, but M. Contere was forced to tell them that it would not be appropriate during the legal proceedings. He also recommended that they follow the judge’s instructions and make sure that they had everything needed, otherwise they would likely not qualify. Hearing that got all three men, their assistants, family, and lawyers moving at top speeds to get everything they needed for court in a few days.

Once they were out of sight, the lawyer couldn’t help but let out a stress induced sigh as he raised one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. This custody battle had the potential to turn into a total circus, and although it could do great things for his career in the long run, he was more worried about how this would affect Marinette.

Speaking of, he was brought from his thoughts when he felt her small hand gently pat the hand that was holding his briefcase. When he looked down at her, she gave him a kind, though slightly amused smile. “You had no idea about the can of worms you were opening when you made those phone calls, did you?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “How was I supposed to know that Uncle J, Uncle Tony, and Uncle Bruce would turn out to be three of the most influential men in the world? How does your family even know all of them?”

“Uncle Bruce was raised by the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth, after his parents died. Grandma Gina and Alfred were best friends when they were younger. After the Waynes died, Gina would go check on them in Gotham, she liked to brag that she helped get Bruce back out of his shell. Uncle Tony knew my parents back in university, he was a lot younger and smarter than the other students and you can guess that didn’t go over well with some of them. My parents looked out for him and they became friends, and even after he got busy when he took over the company, he always made time to be there for the big moments in our lives; my parents’ wedding, their baby shower, and when I was born. I’ve actually spent a few summers in Gotham and New York visiting them.”

“And Jagged Stone?”

“He’s the most recent of my honorary uncles. I’m his personal designer, but he got unofficially adopted into my family after the tv show that took place in my parents’ bakery. Uncle Jagged made a bread guitar and sang rock songs with my dad. Once the show was over, Mom invited him and Penny to stay for dinner. During the course of the night, Dad claimed him as a new little brother. Jagged was so happy that he started calling my parents big brother and big sister, and started calling me his niece. Since then, he’s come over at least once a month to just relax and be a family with us.”

M. Contere couldn’t help but smile at that. From the sound of it and what he had seen, all three men truly cared about this girl and were willing to bend over backwards for her. That was a good thing, but he still worried that a custody battle between these three men could go for a long time and possibly cause mental distress for Marinette. Although the final decision was ultimately up to the judge, he was allowed to make recommendations if they were in the best interests of the child.

With that in mind, he knelt down beside Marinette. “You know the three of them and what they’re living situations are like better than I do. And even though you’re not 15 years old yet, I could petition the judge to factor your opinion. Which of them would you like to have guardian status?”

When Marinette gave him a knowing smile, he just knew that things might get more complicated.

~oOo~

It got a lot more complicated.

The media had caught wind of the custody battle, causing a giant crowd of paparazzi to stake out the courthouse to catch a glimpse of the rockstar, billionaire, and the self proclaimed “genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist” who was also a superhero. To their credit, the three only said that they were devastated by the loss of the Dupain-Chengs and wanted to do what was best for Marinette and left all the other questions at the door.

In the courtroom; all three men, as well as their assistants and Bruce’s boys, had done mental evaluations that their lawyers submitted to the judge. They also provided lists of different schools that Marinette was free to choose from; including public schools, private, and even schools that specialized in fashion. But the absolute kicker was the character witnesses.

Jagged Stone had brought other music stars, movie stars, and production mega stars that made Contere wonder for a moment if he’d accidentally walked into an award ceremony. Tony Stark had brought the Avengers, The Avengers, as his character witnesses. Contere wasn’t too proud to admit that he was a bit starstruck when Thor himself came over to great Marinette and complimented her on her ‘battle scars’, saying that they were a testament to her strength. If that wasn’t enough, Bruce brought multiple members of the Billionaire’s Club as character witnesses, many of whom had been suspected of being members of the Justice League.

The judge looked just as surprised, though somewhat irritated, by the people crowding his courtroom. He quietly looked over the mental health evaluations that had been provided, as well as the lists of schools; finding that everything was in order and that any of them would have been wonderful guardians to the girl. He was tempted to call another recess and pick this back up the following week until Marinette’s lawyer raised his hand.

“If it would please the court,” the judge motioned for him to continue, “although Mlle. Dupain-Cheng is not yet of legal age to make a final decision on the matter of custody, I felt that she was old enough to state her opinion. We have discussed it over the past few days and I believe we came up with a proposal that will satisfy all parties involved while still being in the best interest of the child.” M. Contere presented the four copies of the proposal to the bailiff, who handed one to the judge, and the three lead lawyers.

The judge read the summary at the top before looking at the lawyer in surprise. “You’re proposing joint custody?”

“Yes, your honor. My client and I feel that due to the influence that these men hold, as you can see by the character witnesses that have come here to speak on their behalf, that this custody hearing could be drawn out for a long time, which could have mental repercussions on Marinette.” Contere didn’t miss the ‘you ain’t kidding’ roll of his eyes, or the looks of shame that the three men shared at the thought of hurting Marinette.

“Keeping that in mind, my client came up with an outline for a possible custody agreement. M. Stark would retain custody during school as he has listed one of the top fashion schools in America, which would further Marinette’s future career. The weekends would be spent with M. Wayne, as Wayne Enterprises has connections to the fashion industry and would be able to give her training to help her successfully run her own business. M. Stone would have custody during summer breaks, so Marinette may continue gaining experience as his personal designer, a position she has held for close to a year and has already earned her recognition in the industry.”

The judge grew quiet again as he contemplated the proposal and read over the details. He didn’t want to deal with these three powerful, and in a lot of ways eccentric, men for the next few months while attempting to figure out the best placement for the child. Nor did he want to deal with the media frenzy that this case had already brought on. If anything, this was likely the best option, if he could get the men to agree to the terms.

“Do you have any objections to this proposal?”

There was a moment of silence as the lawyers continued to look over the proposal and spoke to their clients. Jagged’s lawyer was the first to respond. “No, your honor. M. Stone believes that this would be best for Marinette, but we would like to add a clause that M. Stone be permitted to call and visit Mlle. Dupain-Cheng so long as it does not interfere with her school work.”

“My client would also like that clause added to the proposal, your honor,” said the Wayne lawyer. “As well as the clause that Messieurs Stone and Stark work together with M. Wayne in securing Mlle. Dupain-Cheng’s safety. As previously stated, all three men could be considered high-priority targets and normally require bodyguards. M. Wayne has proposed that any potential bodyguard be vetted and approved by all parties involved before being hired.”

The judge looked to Stark’s lawyer. “And do you have any stipulations you would want to see added to the proposal?”

“Only that there be an open line of communication between Messieurs Stone, Wayne, and Stark at all times in reference to Mlle. Dupain-Cheng’s well being and any possible travel. As all three men are known to travel the world for business; there will be occasions for the child to travel as well. When this occurs, the other guardians should receive notice of the country, city, and address that she resides; so, in case of an emergency, they will be able to be present to assist and protect her.”

“My client has no objections to these clauses,” said Jagged’s lawyer.

“And you, M. Wayne?”

The Wayne lawyer nodded. “The clauses are more than reasonable and are in the best interest of Mlle. Dupain-Cheng. Although I only speak for my client, I do not believe that I would be out of line to say that is the main focus of Messieurs Stone and Stark as well.”

The lawyers hid their relief when the judge nodded in agreement. “As the proposal was presented by the child and the three of you are in agreement, I’m scheduling a meeting in my chambers for next Tuesday to go over the finer details of the custodial agreement. I will allow your clients and one lawyer each to attend; this includes you and your client, M. Contere.”

“Yes, your honor.”

“And as for you, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng,” Marinette’s head snapped up to meet the judge’s gaze. “It seems that you have gained three extremely powerful, influential, and in many ways crazy guardians. I don’t know if I should congratulate you or give you my sympathies. What I will do is wish you the best of luck and hope that you are prepared for the future. Court is adjourned.”

There was a hum of surprise and joy that spread through the courtroom as Jagged, Bruce, and Tony stepped up to each other and shook hands before approaching Marinette and M. Contere.

“Of course, my niece would come up with a way to keep everyone happy, she’s so rock n’ roll that way.” Jagged beamed with pride as Tony and Bruce nodded in agreement.

“Would it be alright if all of us went to dinner to celebrate,” Bruce asked Contere, indicating the ‘all’ to be himself and his boys, Jagged and Penny, and Tony and Pepper; along with Marinette and Contere.

“So long as there’s no discussion of custody and everyone stays civil, I don’t see any harm in it.”

Everyone smiled in agreement while Pepper mentioned that she’d just finished making reservations for all eleven of them at a nice restaurant that had the best view of the Eiffel Tower.

As the others began filing out of the courtroom, Marinette patted his hand and gave him a sympathetic look. “You just opened your second can.”

M. Contere wasn’t sure about what she’d meant until after the meal was over and the waitress brought the check, and then watched as the three billionaires fought over it. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he only hoped that this would all be over on Tuesday and he could go back to his normal, boring cases.

#ml fic #ml prompt #marinette deserves better #maribat #ml au #bruce wayne #tony stark #jagged stone #marinette dupain cheng

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bestiesenpai · 3 years

Text

Lout - Naoya Zenin

Y’all ever seen that movie bad teacher with cameron diaz that would be me as a teacher lol also Naoya is a third year 18+ all that good jazz fun fact I’m actually allergic to minors so yeah even mentioning them breaks me out into hives, it’s disgusting they’re disgusting, would not recommend. 0/10 stars on google review and yelp also femme reader 3.3k words

Content warnings: noncon + dubcon, age gap(reader is obvi gonna be older than naoya lol), teacher x student shit, degradation, choking, noncon video taking, biting, spanking, not a mindbreak necessarily but there’s hints of that here

There was a problem child in your senior class and you weren’t even the main teacher. Stuck as a teaching aid until you could get full certification, it wasn’t even you that really had to bear the brunt of this student's bad behavior should the principal ask. Yet somehow, it was your duty to get him into line before he graduated in a few months.

Naoya Zenin couldn’t even pretend to care about his highschool reputation. All he focused on was being top of the class and making sure everyone knew who exactly was in charge. At an elite private school where his family had been generous donors for generations, Naoya’s behavior was almost expected.

Until he nearly put another student in the hospital after a fight. That was the final straw for disgruntled parents and students alike, causing a massive uproar and demanding action. And of course that call to action fell on your shoulders.

“Seriously? They stuck me with a fucking aide?” Throwing open the door to the office space assigned to you in the meeting, Naoya glared at you. It wasn’t that he particularly disliked you or anything, but he felt slighted that the school didn’t send a real teacher to talk to him.

“Have a seat, Naoya.” Standing up from the desk, you motioned to the lone armchair in the room. Walking in and slamming the door behind him, Naoya rolled his eyes as he flopped into the chair.

“Let’s make this quick, I’ve got a dive team meeting soon.” Looking out at the courtyard below, Naoya squinted against the harsh afternoon sun coming in through the windows. He wasn’t concerned with this meeting at all, wanting it to be over so he can go and impress some Olympic team scouts.

Clearing your throat awkwardly, you rustled the papers on your desk. There were pages of notes on what you were supposed to say, how you were supposed to say it and a few forms Naoya had to sign as well, stating that he’d be on his best behavior until graduation.

“Naoya, you know why you’re here.” You started, unable to meet his pointed gaze as it flicked over to you. “You’re behavior has gotten out of hand and-”

“So what?” Letting his head loll back, Naoya shrugged.

“And you need to be held accountable for your actions.” You pushed through the interruption, feeling your cheeks heat up in indignation.

“Yeah? My family’s had the dean in their pocket since this school was founded, I doubt there’s much I need to be accountable for.”

“You can’t throw money at everything, you know?”

“Why do you think I take judo?”

“Naoya, please.” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you mimicked him for a moment and leaned your head back. “We’re supposed to be having this meeting to reform your behavior. You did a really bad thing, you nearly killed that other student.”

“Reform? The board sent you to reform me? That’s a fucking laugh if I’ve ever heard one.” Letting out a boisterous laugh, Naoya slapped his knee. “How are you going to change me when you can’t even look me in the eye?”

“T-that’s not important.” Embarrassed, you forced yourself to make brief eye contact with him before shuffling your papers around again. “Look, can you just let me say what’s on these papers? Then you can sign them and be on your way.”

“I don’t think I will.” Crossing his arms, Naoya had the nerve to stretch his legs out and prop his feet up on the desk.

“Naoya-”

“I still think it’s hilarious that you’re here of all people. I mean, just look at you!” Gesturing vaguely to your form, Naoya laughed again. “Not even a real fucking teacher yet. Why don’t you go back to the little corner office you have and let the grown ups handle the big stuff?”

“I’m older than you!” This was bad. He was trying to rile you up and it was working. The control you already didn’t have on the situation was getting worse by the minute and both you and Naoya knew that the power balance between you was heavily skewed in his favor.

“Really? I couldn’t tell, you’ve got about as much gusto as an infant.” Giving you a once over, he sneered. “The only thing going for you is your looks and honestly, they could use a little work.”

“Hey!” Now your face was really on fire. Chuckling at your reaction, Naoya sat up a little straighter.

“Don’t get so upset, I know a pair of twins that would be more than willing to help you improve.”

“Can we just focus on the reason we’re here?” You wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. The chances of saving this meeting - and your dignity - were slim to none, but you still had to try.

“Right, right, this nonsense about ‘reforming me’.” Using heavy air quotes, Naoya dragged his feet off the desk and let them land on the ground with a loud thud. Taking another look out the windows, he started to undo the tie around his neck.

“Yes. Now, you’re going to sit there and just listen, okay? It’ll only take a few minutes, then you can go on about your day.” You were foolish to believe that you could possibly do anything to Naoya, let alone change his mind on something like this. All the high hopes you’d scrounged together before this meeting were utterly crushed when Naoya stood up.

“No, you listen.” In one fell swoop, Naoya pushed all the papers off the desk, waiting as they all fell to the ground and drinking in your shocked expression. “It’s almost insulting that you think you have any control over this situation, let alone me.”

“Sit back down, Naoya.” Your voice shook terribly as he rounded the desk. You weren’t able to push your chair away fast enough, and he was able to grab onto the back and spin you to face him.

“But teacher, I don’t want to.” He mocked, wasting no time in grabbing you by the throat and forcing you to stand. Clawing at his hand was no use, Naoya’s strength greatly outmatched yours and in just a few moments he was able to manhandle your arms behind your back and use his tie to bind your wrists together.

“Let me go, Naoya!” Thrashing against the desk you were now leaning on for support, a sense of dread filled you. Even if you managed to undo the tie, there was still the issue of actually getting out of the room and away from Naoya, and if his ease in handling you told you anything it was that that task would be impossible.

“Ya know, (Y/N)- can I call you (Y/N)?” He had a stupid grin on his face, pushing you to lean more on the desk as he stood in front of you. “You’ve talked a lot about reform and changing my behavior, but the only one I see here in need of an attitude adjustment is you.”

“Naoya!” Horror ripped through you as he yanked your top open, popping the buttons on your blouse and letting out a whistle at seeing your bra.

“(Y/N), I think you’re violating dress code right now.” Clicking his tongue, Naoya pulled your bra down as far as it would go. “I’ll have to give you a demerit.” Keeping one hand on your throat, Naoya pinched and twisted your nipple between his fingers.

You wouldn’t know it, but Naoya’s heart was beating wildly in his chest. The rush of power he usually got from presiding and dominating the other students was nothing compared to the power he felt now. This wasn’t even something he dreamed about doing, but you’d just given him the golden opportunity to really test his power at this school.

Lurching forward, Naoya sunk his teeth right below your jawline, somewhere he knew you’d have a hard time covering up the mark. The pained squeal you let out went straight to his head and right between his legs, making him bite you in another place and suck harshly on the skin.

Rutting his hips against your thigh, Naoya groaned as he trailed his mouth down your neck, leaving deep teeth marks that he knew would sting when you were alone at night later. Putting one of your nipples in his mouth, Naoya rolled it between his teeth and let drool drip out of his mouth and down your skin.

“Stop it, Naoya! Let me go!” There were strained tears in your eyes that refused to be blinked away. A flurry of slurred protests left your lips as his hand tightened on your neck, enough to have you gasping for air.

“Not until I teach you a little lesson.” He growled, leveling you with a single look. Keeping his grip firm until your eyes rolled back in your head, Naoya let go when he was sure you wouldn’t try to speak again.

Coughing and spluttering, there was little you could do with your fuzzy brain to stop Naoya from turning you around and bending you over the desk. Your face pressed into the hard surface and the wood dug into your face and hips as they were pushed forward.

Grabbing onto your bottoms, Naoya pulled them down until they were at your ankles, unceremoniously ripping off your panties and no doubt shoving them into his pocket. Your heated skin was exposed to the air of the room, making goosebumps pebble on your flesh.

“Ow!” The first slap to your ass was hard and unforgiving, making the tears in your eyes finally fall. “S-stop!” You tried to move your body away from the impending pain but it was no use, Naoya hit your other cheek almost as soon as you started to move.

“What’s wrong, teacher? Never had a bit of corporal punishment?” Laughing haughtily, Naoya grabbed your stinging skin in his hand.

“Ow, ow- N-naoya please, let me go!”

“Not a chance!” Slapping both cheeks in tandem, Naoya could feel the adrenaline going through him. There was no limit to what he could do in this moment, he could walk away and leave you like this, stranded for someone to find. Or, and he liked this option more, he could keep going, and save a few keepsakes for himself.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, Naoya opened the camera with no hesitation. Taking a video of your heaving body, groping your ass and hips, spreading your cheeks apart to reveal your asshole, Naoya tried to keep the groan coming forward low.

“W-what’re you doing?” You could just barely see him out of the corner of your eye, and your blood ran cold upon realizing what he was doing.

“Say hi.” Shoving the camera in your face, Naoya grabbed your chin to keep you from turning away. “Smile for the camera, (Y/N), don’t cry!”

“No, no, no…” Your career is over. Your life is over. Everything you’d worked so hard for, your education, this job - it was going to be taken away if Naoya decided to share the video. You’d be blacklisted from ever working in a school again and you would definitely face legal trouble for being in this situation with a student.

Leaving you for a moment, Naoya propped his phone up on the windowsill, making sure the camera was capturing the both of you as he went back over. Giving a cheeky little wave to the camera, Naoya turned his attention back to you.

Pushing a hand between your legs, Naoya chuckled darkly at the slick that met the tips of his fingers. It was a miniscule amount, but enough that he could mock you over it. Dragging his fingers through your folds, he presented the fingers to you.

“Who knew Ms. (Y/N) was such a fucking slut?” Rubbing his fingers together, Naoya held his hand up to the camera. “Ms. (Y/N) likes it when I’m rough with her.”

“No...no I don’t.” Sniffling pathetically, you shook your head as best you could.

“Don’t lie, the proof is right here.” Wiping his fingers across your cheek, he made a show of pushing your legs further apart and putting his hand back on your cunt. Pinching your clit, Naoya bit his lip as you let out a high pitch whine.

He knew he’d meet too much resistance if he tried to shove his cock in straight away, so Naoya took it upon himself to prep you a bit. Rubbing your clit in tight circles, he leered over you and watched as you struggled to keep whimpers at bay.

“Don’t be shy, let the camera know how much you like this. We already know how much of a slut you are.”

“I don’t- I don’t like this.”

“Hm? Then why are you getting wet?”

“T-thats-” He had you beat there, the glide of his fingers was getting easier and a distinct wet sound was starting to take shape.

“No need to be shy, teacher. You can tell me you’re just a dumb fucking slut.” Pressing his lips against your ear, Naoya looked at the camera. “I know you see the camera, say it nice and loud for me.”

“No.” Shaking your head, a sharp cry ripped through you as Naoya hit your thigh. From the force of his slap you knew there’d be a hand printed welt on your leg.

“Say it.”

“I-I’m a- a dumb fucking slut!” You sobbed and the strength nearly left your legs entirely. If not for Naoya holding you up you would have tumbled to the floor in shame.

“Now was that so hard?” Standing up straight, Naoya was done stalling. Pushing a finger inside you, he deemed you ready enough to take him and undid the belt on his pants, letting them fall to his ankles.

Taking a second to himself, Naoya ground his clothed cock against your body. This opportunity was something to cherish and he was going to savor every moment of it. Taking a deep breath as pleasure made his spine ripple, Naoya pushed down his underwear and grabbed his cock.

“Teacher, I have a bit of a problem, won’t you fix it?” Naoya teased, rubbing his cock along your slit.

“Wait Naoya, you need protection.”

“Shut up. You’d be lucky to bear a child with Zenin blood, so count this as a gift from me to you.” Putting the tip in, Naoya let his head fall back and gaze down his nose at where your cunt was already sucking him in.

Ignoring your protests, Naoya pushed his cock in all the way, quickly bottoming out and nestling his hips snugly against yours. Planting his hands on the desk to steady himself, he had to take a few deep breaths before beginning to move again.

Putting a hand on the back of your neck to keep you from moving too much, Naoya pulled his hips back, looking at the way his cock glistened with your slick. Breathing hard through his nose, he pushed back in and started a steady rhythm.

“Shit, you’re so tight.” He grunted behind clenched teeth, the hold on your neck getting tighter as he focused on moving his body and not cumming too soon. The clap of his hips against your ass was music to his ears, a sound Naoya was sure not to forget any time soon.

The shame of being fucked by a student was heavy enough on your mind but the shame knowing you were starting to enjoy it was even worse. Keeping your eyes tightly closed, there was little you could do as Naoya pounded into you, the full length of his cock hitting places inside you that hadn’t ever been touched before by previous partners.

“Fuck!” The shout that came out of you was unrestrained, you couldn’t contain yourself as Naoya put his fingers back on your clit. Humiliation covered you like a thick blanket, almost choking you as much as Naoya was.

“I knew you’d come around, (Y/N). No one can resist a Zenin.” Smirking at your scrunched up face, Naoya wrapped his hand fully around your throat and pulled you up until your back was nearly flush with him.

The new angle had a loud moan coming from you and Naoya was close to cumming as well, he could feel his toes start to curl and tingle. His mind was starting to get foggy, and the hold he had was starting to slip from the sweat building up between you.

“Make sure not to waste what I give you, okay? It’s special.”

“You have to pull out, Naoya. You have to!” You couldn’t get pregnant by a student, especially one as high profile as him. Humming against your ear, Naoya shook his head.

“No, I don’t think I will. This is the last part of your attitude adjustment, I need to make sure you remember it.”

“N-naoya- pull out-” You stuttered as your orgasm washed over you, making your back arch and angling your ass perfectly for Naoya to cum as well. Making sure his cock was as deep as possible, Naoya let you fall back onto the desk as he rutted into you.

Biting you on the shoulder one last time, Naoya stayed inside you until his breathing went back to normal and his cock went soft. He had sweat clinging to his body and his uniform was wrinkled beyond belief when he stood up.

Fixing his clothes, Naoya undid the tie around your wrists and watched your arms limply fall to the side. There was no doubt you were sore, he’d given you enough marks to last a week. Smoothing a hand over your still stinging thigh, Naoya stepped away from you and laughed as you fell to the floor.

“Ya know, maybe this meeting was beneficial after all. Wouldn’t you say, teach?” Toeing at your spent body curled up on the floor, Naoya drank you in one last time before going to his phone and ending the video.

Gathering his things and answering a few texts, Naoya grinned as you hobbled to your feet. You avoided looking at him, opting instead to try salvage your own clothes and make sense of the world again. The sun was still shining brightly in the sky and if you held your breath you could hear the distant sound of students on a baseball field.

“Well, I’ll be going now.” Naoya threw open the door, startling you.

“Wait.” Reaching out to him, your eyes went straight to the phone in his hands. “That video-”

“Don’t worry, I won’t show it to anyone, I promise!” Crossing his fingers for dramatic effect, Naoya tucked it away into his back pocket. “Stay out of my way for the rest of the school year, and I’ll delete it when I graduate.”

You couldn’t trust his words and you both knew it. There was no way Naoya would let this be a one time thing, now that he’s gotten a taste for it. He would only continue to take what he wanted from you, making your life hell until he left the school - he wouldn’t let you leave before him.

“Fine.” But it was all you had to go on, so you nodded your head and accepted your fate.

“Fine.” Nodding curtly, Naoya stepped out into the hall with a wide smirk on his face. “See you in class later, Ms. (Y/N).”

#tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: teacher student #tw: choking #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #naoya zenin #naoya x reader #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #naoya zenin smut

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shysneeze · 3 years

Text

cliché (cedric diggory x fem!reader)

Cliché

Cedric Diggory x fem!Hufflepuff!reader

Request: could you do a Cedric Digorry oneshot in which the reader is also a hufflepuff who's always smiling and he sees her crying?

Warnings: mentions of loneliness, crying angsty but also as title suggests its super cliché and soppy but you’ve been warned

(Author’s Note: This is my first Cedric fic so excuse me if the characterisation isn’t quite correct, its a work in progress also the ending might seem bit rushed but this is a procastination baby and I got spooked last minute that I’m four weeks behind on uni work. )

Some might call her a cliché.

It’s rumoured that the hat barely hovered over her head for two seconds before its decision was made, that its decision was made the minute she stepped into the great hall and smiled.

Some will say that the warm yellow tie fixed neatly around her shirt collar and badger crested robes are unnecessary all these years later, that from just one conversation with (Y/N) (Y/L/N), no one could ever doubt that she belongs in Hufflepuff.

With a smile sweeter than honey, her presence can lift the stubbornest of frowns and the lowest of spirits. Patient and loyal, she lends herself as a friend to all, from homesick first years to gossiping classmates.

Like hot chocolate on cold winter day, she’s the most welcome cliché there is, and her reputation precedes her, known to all as the girl with the infectious smile, the never-ending supply of cheerfulness.

Cedric Diggory is no stranger to her smile, the one that sends warmth to his cheeks when their eyes meet during class, the one that causes him to lose all his well earned confidence, that turns house prefect, quidditch captain and school champion, Cedric Diggory, into a nervous wreck.

He’s fallen under the same spell as everyone else, enamoured by whatever it is in her presentation that lifts the mood of an entire room, that holds people captivated and has people longing to be in her company.

Tonight however, he’s seeing her without that smile for what feels like the first time, and his concern logically overrides the part of him that would usually be flustered to be anywhere near her.

The otherwise empty common room is lit only by the gentle flame of the fire, crackling softly in the background. He was about reprimand her, before she turned to face him and he recognised her, even with wide watery eyes and tear-stricken cheeks.

“(Y/N)?”

“C-cedric?” Her voice wobbles until panic suddenly grabs her expression. “Cedric!”

She pulls her jumper’s sleeves over her hands and presses them hastily to her eyes in a scramble to hide her tears. Then, gulping momentarily beforehand, she pulls her lips into a smile so fragile, it falters instantly.

“You caught me.” She forces a chuckle. “I should be in bed...”

She climbs to her feet sheepishly, making her way around the furniture in order to slip past him. He’s almost too dazed to stop her, only reaching out at the last second to take hold of her hand before she can sneak up to the girl’s dorm.

He tugs her back gently, curling her back until she tumble softly into his chest. He steps back quickly to give her space, but keeps hold of her hand too keep her steady. She stares up at him once firmly still again, red-rimmed eyes a mixture of panicked and surprised.

“Sorry- are you okay?”

“Fine.” She lies poorly.

She scans the room quickly for an excuse, zoning in on a book left lying on the coffee table in front of the sofa she was moments ago sat upon. She turns back to him, mustering a sheepish smile.

“Sad book is all.”

Cedric raises a quizzical brow, slowly leading them both towards the aforementioned book. His eyes scan the title before returning to her own with a knowing glint.

“Really?” He asks. “Transfiguration for Senior Students?”

“Too much change…” She nods, wincing at the stupidity of it. “Fine…”

She drops herself back onto the sofa with a shaky sigh and a hiccup of someone who’s been crying for a while. He studies her for a moment, worried by this teary version of the most cheerful girl in Hogwarts, then, he takes a seat beside her.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, voice gentle and encouraging. “You can tell me.”

“You have enough to worry about with the tournament, Cedric.” She shakes her head. “You don’t need my silly problems on top of it.”

He shakes his head, frowning at the statement.

“I doubt they’re silly, (Y/N).” He says. “Just different.”

Something in his voice, soft, kind and genuinely concerned, has tears stinging at her eyes again and a frustrated sigh falling out her lips. She sniffles again and presses her palms to her eyes.

“This is so stupid.” She hiccups.

“Hey.” He whispers softly. “It’s okay.”

She freezes when she feels the warmth of his fingertips on her hands for the second time this evening, tugging gently to pull them away from her eyes. She lets him, surrendering to his gentle touch.

“You don’t have to be happy all the time, (Y/N).”

Her breath falters at the statement, the weight of it taking a moment to sink in. She pulls her hands from his to wipe newly forming tears again with her sleeves, the efficiency of which she’s beginning to doubt.

"No one's ever told me that before." She admits, once convinced that she’s composed enough to do so.

"What?" He frowns.

"That I can be upset." She laughs sadly. "I'm sure it's just common sense but no one's ever actually told me before."

"Really?"

"I'm supposed to be the one that has it all together." She reminds. "I'm the shoulder to cry on, not the crier."

She lets out another sigh, looking up at him with watery eyes.

"I didn't know it was possible to be so lonely while never once being alone."

His heart twists at the realisation, that beneath the happy cliché is an ordinary girl shrouded in the worst type of loneliness, the type only felt in a crowded room, that exists in the gaps in lively conversation and that hits you when you try to sleep after a long day spent with friends.

“I don’t know if that makes sense- “

“It does.” He assures quickly. “It does, (Y/N).”

“It’s not that I dislike being the one to help people.” She explains quickly. “I love that people can approach me and ask for help.”

"That doesn't mean it's not hard." Cedric says gently.

"Yeah." She agrees with a sigh. "It just gets to be a lot sometimes..."

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)."

Her eyes drop to her lap, the softest of sigh escaping her lips, dropping her head back against the back cushion of the sofa and staring up at the ceiling. This isn't how she saw her evening going, sat across from Hogwarts's champion in tears, a blubbering mess.

“It’s okay.” She mumbles. “It’s just how it is.”

"It doesn't have to be."

“Huh?”

“You shouldn’t have to pretend you’re okay all the time.” He explains sincerely, even if just a little nervously. “I want to help, even if that just means being the shoulder you can cry on.”

There is a deep honesty in his grey eyes, intense as they hold hers. She can hear her own heartbeat in her chest, hopeful that even in the quiet of the common room, he can’t hear it too. She’s embarrassed enough for one evening.

“You don’t have to- “

“I want to.” He gulps.

“Why?”

There is that blush she’s become so acquainted with, the one that causes butterflies to flutter in her stomach and for people to nudge her and tell her what a cute couple they’d make together when they notice. The blush she’s grown to find so endearing.

“I care about you, (Y/N).” He admits. “I want you to be happy, but I also want you to know that when you’re not, that I’ll be here to listen to you rant or cry, or even just sit with you in silence if that’s what you need.”

She takes the words in, not sure how she’s supposed to reply without firing herself into his arms. He reaches out nervously for her hand, squeezing it comfortingly. The look he gives her is something between reassuring honesty and shy, as if trying to make sure he’s gotten his point across.

“You don’t deserve to feel lonely.”

“T-thanks, Cedric.” She manages after a minute, although unsatisfied about how understated it is. “That means a lot.”

Whether the warmth of his hand in hers or the kindness of his words she’s unsure, but for the first time this evening, her chest feels lighter and although her eyes sting, they no longer well with tears when she’s left to her own thoughts for longer than a few seconds.

“Someone should have repaid you that kindness before now.”

“I’m glad it’s you.”

Her voice is quiet, nervous to say the words aloud. Yet, they’re bold words, a leap she’s suddenly proud for taking and that she hopes he’ll find the deeper meaning of. At his expression, she knows he does, but that he needs to be sure.

“I mean to say that it means more coming from you than I suspect it would from anyone else…”

“Oh.”

She panics, sure she’s made a mistake from his slight reaction. She goes to pull her hand from his in order to make her mortified bid for freedom easier, but his grip tightens enough to still her desire to flee.

“No, I just need to know you’re not just saying this because you’re upset.” He explains. “That you aren’t just doing this out of gratefulness or- “

“I like you, Cedric.”

There it is, a clear and concise confession, the words he’s never imagined from her lips before, not when he’s so regularly embarrassed himself by turning into a stuttering nervous wreck in front of her.

“I’ve liked you for a while and I’m not just saying it because I’m grateful.” She adds in assurance. “I’m doing it because you’ve just seen me at my worst and not ran, and for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel completely alone.”

“I’d never run.” He whispers reassuring, rubbing his thumb soothingly over her knuckles.

“Not even now, with puffy red eyes and tear stained cheeks?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Not even now, because you look beautiful regardless.”

She once again worries that he’ll hear her hear racing in her chest.

“Talk about a cliché.” She exhales.

“I quite like a good cliché.” He states, grinning at her softly. “They’re terribly misunderstood.”

She returns his smile, not the one she forced onto her cheeks at the beginning of the evening, or even the one that he’s so used to making him blush, that he knows now was hiding a pain beneath it. This smile is new, honest, and soft, the prettiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“I love this smile.”

She melts into his touch when one of is hands comes to cup her cheek, pad of his thumb ghosting over the corner of her lips. He’s decided it’s his new favourite thing, this newly genuine smile.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Hmm.” She hums in agreement. “Yes please.”

Their lips meet tentatively, her face still cupped in his hand, the other holding hers still. It’s slow, he gentle with her and she’s grateful after such an emotional evening. She’d go as far to say that it’s perfect in a way.

“I’m never going to let you feel lonely again.”

“I believe you.”

#cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader #cedric x reader #cedric imagine #cedric diggory imagine #cedric diggory reader insert #cedric diggory fanfiction #cedric diggory fanfic #harry potter imagines #cedric #harry potter #harry potter and the goblet of fire #reader insert #x readers

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let-me-write-shit · 3 years

Note

You writing is soo cool, you're amazing! I don't know if you are taking requests, but what about a famous Y/N and meets professor Harry and he is like "I don't want to teach you, you are famous" and she is like "you are going to teach me and fall in love with me😏" and well, idk the idea just came to my mind and I thought of you to write it hahaha. Love your writing, keep doing it 'cause you are great!

Word Count: 9,443 LONG AS SHIIIIT

WARNING: FILTHY SMUT!!!!!!!! (I put ******** before and after the smut so you can skip if you’d like

A/N: Thank you SOO much to @mylittleangel9403 for this request and I’m SOOOO sorry it took so long. Turned out a lot longer than I anticipated. Not sure if you wanted this to be smutty, but I just couldn’t help myself. Also, shoutout to @gwenlovesharrystyles for the help on this imagine! Much appreciated!!Enjoy!

Requests are OPEN! If you have a request for a blurb, oneshot, imagine, whatever, Send me a message HERE!!!

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Professor Styles

“Ma’am, respectfully, I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Harry leaned forward in his chair, fingertips pressed together, aware of the large presence that sat beside him, his voice almost a whisper. “We’re already several classes deep, and as you know, my class is very difficult. She’ll be at a disadvantage going in, not to mention the students already in my class. The distraction isn’t fair for them.”

“Professor Styles, I don’t need to tell you how much this means to our University. I understand your concern, and I have every faith in you to help miss Y/L/N catch up to speed and keep your students in-check.”

He could feel the eyes of the famous singer on him as she uncrossed her legs and sat straighter in her chair. In his peripheral, he could see her burly manager, who stood in the back against a wall, take a step closer behind them like a bodyguard waiting to pounce. But for some reason, Harry had the distinct impression that Y/N could do without protection. He thought she was tough enough.

“Sir,” Y/N spoke softly and respectfully. Harry turned, seeing a reflection of yellow in her eyes as the sun shone through the window onto them, and he couldn’t help but think she was putting on an act for the Dean. “I know that the circumstances are...unusual. But, I promise I will do everything in my power to not cause any distraction in your class. I’ll sit in the back if that helps. Whatever it takes.”

The young professor took a deep breath, taking in her words. He looked around the room in thought, feeling everyone’s attention on him all the while. Some of the rumors about her seemed to ring true. Y/N had this energy about her that made it difficult to focus or think straight. She hardly took her eyes off of him throughout this entire meeting.

Harry sighed in defeat and nodded, “Alright. I trust she’ll be given the syllabus and information on everything she’ll need for my class?” he asked the Dean.

But before the Dean could respond, Y/N chirped, “I’ve already gotten it and I’m prepared to start next week.”

“Well, that’s settled, then,” the Dean grinned, victoriously, “Welcome to our school, Miss Y/L/N. Unless you have any more questions, you are free to go.”

Y/N stood up with a smile, followed by the Dean and professor. She stuck out a hand and shook them, saying, “Thank you so much. I look forward to starting on Tuesday.”

Her burly manager opened the door for her and she began to make her way out. And as Harry collected his things to leave, the Dean quipped, “Oh, Professor Styles. Before you head to your next class, I’d like to speak to you for a moment.”

Harry watched as Y/N closed the door behind her, almost certain he saw a wink, before setting his things back down and taking a seat once more. He listened as the Dean encouraged him to do all that he can to ensure Y/N had a good experience here, explaining how big of a deal this was and how Y/N taking his class might encourage more students to enroll.

Harry listened, respectfully, but wanted nothing more than to roll his eyes. It annoyed him that he was expected to baby Y/N and bend to her will solely because she was a rich and famous singer, and he refused to play a part in that. If she wanted success in his class, she would need to earn it just like the rest of his students.

When they finished their conversation, he was already running late for his next class. Again, he collected his things and made his way out of the office. As he speed-walked through the administration, he was surprised to see Y/N still there, sat on a chair beside her burly manager, talking. When she noticed him, she instantly jumped to her feet and raced up to him.

“Hey,” she said, simply, keeping his pace as they continued out of the administration building and into the main campus.

“I’m running late to my next class, Miss Y/L/N. Did you have a question, or can this wait?”

Her voice was so flippant that it bordered arrogance, “Just wanted to thank you again for letting me join your class this late into the semester.”

“It’s not me you should thank. I don’t agree with it and I won’t baby you. You’ve got a lot of catching up to do. I suggest you start reading your books so you’re not lost in my next class. Your classmates have worked hard to get to where they are and I’d hate for you to be the reason for a halt in their progress.”

“I think you’ll find that not to be the case.”

She was so smug that it caught him off guard. The looming of her large manager two paces behind him as they hustled down the walkway was even more noticeable now, along with the many whispers and stares as they continued. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, perplexed.

He debated whether to ask, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. Not wanting to show any sign of weakness or that he’d entertain her malarky. But his curiosity got the better of him.

“Miss Y/L/N, why are you taking my class?”

“Why not?” she smirked in response.

He sighed, annoyed that he was even going along with this, “We both know you don’t need to go to school, especially for Advanced Musical Theory. Why are you only taking my class?”

Her voice was softer and more sincere this time as she spoke, “I’ve always been interested in Music Theory and wanted to take it before my career kicked off. And I heard you were one of the best teachers in your field.”

For a split second, in that moment of sincerity, he thought he might have just seen her, the real her, behind all the fame and money and act. But her innocence faltered as she quickly shuffled in front of him, making Harry fumble to a stop.

Her eyes were more seductive now as she hushed, “Besides, I heard about how hot you were and I needed to see it for myself. And I’m not disappointed,” she looked at him through her eyelashes.

Harry could feel the warmth rise to his cheeks, extremely aware of her manager’s presence behind him and the few students nearby, staring. He was sure his face was bright red right now as Y/N’s smirk only seemed to grow.

Harry was aware of his reputation around campus for being the ‘hot teacher’. He wasn’t a stranger to the gossip or the occasional student trying to make a pass at him. And, honestly, his ego enjoyed it. But he’d never crossed that line with a student before and she would be no exception.

He did his best to compose himself and continued past her, Y/N following behind, “I’ll ignore that and just give you fair warning,” he started, “My class is hard and you will not be given special treatment just because you’re famous. I promised the dean I’d get you caught up, and I will. Your class is every Tuesday, and you can meet me in my office after each lesson for an hour for the next few weeks until we get you up-to-date on what you’ve missed. I will not play into your games.”

“Yes, Sir,” she pouted, teasingly, and again, jumped in front of him, holding a hand out and smiling, “Looking forward to next Tuesday.”

Harry looked at her suspiciously, pausing for a moment before ultimately giving in and taking her hand in his. But before he could respond, she pulled herself closer to him. So close that she was practically whispering in his ear.

“But just to warn you, not only will I ace your class, but by the end of the semester, I’ll make you call in love with me.”

Her breath was so hot and her words were so unexpected that he stood there, stunned, while she pulled away, winked, and walked back towards her bodyguard, heading back from where they just came from. She waved to a few students that recognized her, and she looked back once to blow a discreet kiss before she rounded a corner and was out of sight.

Harry watched after her, stunned at her assertiveness while people were watching. But he shook it off and continued to his class, mentally preparing himself to break the news to his students.

The anxiety in the week leading up to the start of Y/N’s first official day in Professor Styles’ class was becoming more frequently accompanied by the Dean’s constant checking in on him to make sure everything was ready, more students visiting or showing up to class, and even more excited whispers. Harry, on the other hand, did his best to push it aside, not getting what all the fuss was about.

He had done his best to prepare his students for their newly joined classmate, even sending out mass reminder emails to those in his class to please be courteous and warning them to avoid distraction. But when he pulled up to the school that day, he noticed more students than normal just hanging around, scanning all over campus like they were scouting for something.

Harry quickly realized that they were waiting to catch a glimpse at the famous singer and he snorted, rolling his eyes. Kids were so predictable. He slipped his lanyard with his ID around his neck, grabbed hold of his coffee and briefcase, and got out of his car, heading towards his classroom.

The Professor smiled and nodded at the students that greeted him in the hallway, proud that he knew each of them by name, continuing to his class. He knew his students would already be there, by now. Harry was usually always a few minutes late and he assumed that it gave his students more than enough time to ogle their new addition to the class.

But, when Harry rounded the corner and saw Y/N leaning up against the wall, arms crossed and alone, his nerves increased.

“Harry,” Y/N beamed when she spotted him, practically skipping over to him.

Harry raised his eyebrows, clearing his throat, “It’s Professor Styles,” he warned, earning a sarcastic nod while he continued, “Why are you not in class?”

“I thought we could go in together since I’m new.”

“I’m your professor, not your babysitter. Go on in next time,” he said as they approached the door. Before turning the knob, he paused and faced her, “While you’re here, I’ll explain to you what I explained to them on the first day. I’m a pretty easy-going teacher because I know how hard this class can be. You can eat in my class, you can have your phones out, you can come in wearing pajamas, I don’t care. However, the biggest rule in my class is that you treat people with kindness. We do not judge in this class. We don’t interrupt people or talk over others, we don’t make others feel inferior. My class is a safe space for people to be their authentic selves and we respect that. Can you do that?”

Y/N’s stance softened and she grinned, nodding, “Yes. I can do that.”

“Good,” Harry nodded, “I’d like you to take a seat towards the back of the class for today if you don’t mind. I’d rather they pay attention to me than the back of your head.”

“Whatever you say, Professor,” Y/N exaggerated his title, her lips twitching up in a lopsided smile.

He looked down at her for a moment, narrowing his eyes, trying to size her up, before he gave in and turned the knob to his class. The buzz from his students loudly chattering amongst each other instantly stopped when he walked in, closely followed by the singer. Harry vaguely noticed that not only was every single one of his students present, but they all looked slightly more put-together than normal. He snorted under his breath, dropping his briefcase on his desk, taking a sip from his coffee cup, and placing that down, as well.

“Morning!” He called out, earning a chorus of greetings in return. He gestured towards Y/N who was making her way up the steps towards the back of the class, “I’m sure you all know who this is. We are incredibly lucky to welcome Y/N in joining us this year.”

Y/N stopped climbing the steps to smile brightly and wave obscurely at everyone, “Hi!”

Harry nodded towards her to keep moving. She rolled her eyes, playfully, and continued while he explained, “I know we’re all excited to have her here, but I want to remind everyone that while we’re in the room, we’re all students, and that includes Y/N. Let’s all focus on what we’re here for, so we don’t get lost when mid-terms get here, yeah?”

After another muttering of agreeance, Harry noticed Y/N getting settled in the back and he nodded, starting the lecture, “Okay, what I’d like to do is a one-minute warm-up on today’s exploration on duple and triple meter. So, I need everyone to stand up.”

The rustling of chairs echoed and screeched as students got to their feet. Soon, they were marching along to Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds by The Beatles, everyone laughing and feet stomping on the ground. He felt proud, seeing all the smiling, attentive faces in his direction and happy that throughout the lesson, nearly everyone had seemed to grasp everything that he was saying.

But, each time he glanced up in Y/N’s direction, he noticed that not only had she not even so much as picked up a pencil or opened her laptop, she had not looked away from him even once. He made a mental note to reprimand her after class and continued on.

When the lesson came to an end, Harry thanked the class for their cooperation and the students began to pack up their belongings. He watched as Y/N was met by a group of kids who were considered to be more ‘popular’ around campus. He saw her friendly smiles, but could barely hear her over the noise.

Once Harry managed to gather his things and toss his now-empty coffee cup in the trash, he approached the group, earning a pleasant round of hello’s by the students. One of the girls, Jesse, made sure to bat her eyelashes a little more and lean closer than necessary as she spoke.

“Great lesson today, Professor Styles. I did have a few questions about musical texture and was wondering if we could meet privately so I could get some more clarity on that?” she asked, twisting a lock of hair around her fingers.

Harry was used to Jesse’s incessant attempts at flirting with him and getting him alone, but he never took the bait, “I’m sorry, Jesse, I have no free office hours available, right now. But please shoot me an email with all of your questions and I’ll gladly help you out.” He heard sniggering from her friends as her face shifted into disappointment and he turned to Y/N, “Miss Y/L/N, when you’re done here, please meet me in my office so I can get you caught up.”

“Yes, Professor, I’ll be right there.”

He waited twenty minutes before he finally heard a knock on the door. He had half a mind to ignore it and let her stand out there, annoyed that he was wasting time trying to help an entitled celebrity who clearly had no interest in his class. What was the point? But, he thought back to the Dean, and reluctantly made his way to the door.

“Your students seem to really like you,” she confidently walked in, taking a seat on top of his desk and tossing her bag on one of the chairs, crossing her legs. “Especially that girl, what’s her name? Jesse?”

Harry blinked and slightly shook her head back before closing the door and rounding the desk she sat on towards his chair, not bothering to give the statement a response. But that didn’t stop her from continuing, “She’s like, in love with you. Well, maybe not in love. But you definitely make her horny.”

“Y/N!” You shoot back at the brassiness.

“She’s hot, I’ll give her that. But she’s definitely got that ‘daddy money’ vibe to her. She and her friends invited me to a party next weekend. And that kid, Mark, gave me his number. He’s pretty hot, too. Looks like some kind of jock.”

Harry nodded, shuffling his papers, “He’s here on a full-ride soccer scholarship.”

“Damn, I’m good,” Y/N leaned back, pressing her palms flat against the top of his desk, impressed with herself.

Harry looked up at her, an eyebrow raised. He wished he could say that her confidence astounded him, but honestly, he wasn’t that surprised. He could hazard a guess that her success was probably all handed to her. She joked about another student being given ‘daddy’s money’, but if he had to guess, she was probably the same.

He set the stack of papers down beside where she sat on his desk and looked up at her with a sigh, “Miss Y/L/N, my desk is not a chair. Please have a seat.”

She slithered down off the desk and plopped in a chair opposite him, scooting it closer and crossing her arms on the top, waiting for him to speak.

He relaxed his shoulders and continued, “You didn’t participate much in class today.”

“Well, you told me not to be a distraction.”

“Yes, but you’re still a part of the class. I expect more participation from you in the next class. And that includes note-taking. You won’t pass my class from memory. For now, I need to get you caught up.

Harry spent the next hour trying to get her caught up on the very first day of his class, which she interrupted every ten minutes, or so, going off-topic or asking very personal questions like ‘do you have a girlfriend?’ or ‘how many students have you been with?’ None of which he answered. When there were about ten minutes left in their time together, Y/N interrupted for the eighth time that hour and Harry groaned, unsure that she had retained any of the information he had provided her so far.

“What made you want to do this? Teach Musical Theory?”

He looked up at her and paused for a moment and she stared at him, her head cocked to the side. She looked genuinely interested, and it wasn’t often that he got asked these questions. He decided he’d entertain her, just this once.

Harry slid the paperwork away from him and sat back in his seat, “I’ve just always been interested in music since I was a kid.”

“Yeah, so have I. That’s why I became a musician. There are so many jobs in the musical field, why music theory?”

“Well, I am a musician. Not as big as you, obviously, but I have a small band and we play gigs around town. But the more I deep dove into music and the history behind it, the more I got into musical theory. It was a hobby and a passion before it was a career. And I guess I just wanted to show people how fun and interesting it could be.”

Y/N nodded, seeming content with his answer before saying, “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re a good teacher.”

“You’ve only been in one class,” he chuckled, sitting up again and straightening out his papers once more.

She giggled, “Yes, but it doesn’t take long to know when a teacher is good or not. I see the way you interact with your students and hear the way they talk about you. Everyone seems to love you. It’s part of the reason why I chose to come here.”

“My reputation precedes me?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Something like that,” she grinned, before softly speaking, “You know, we’re not all that different, you and I. I’ve been passionate about music for as long as I remember,” she laughed and said, “I remember when I was seven years old my mom took me to the library and I must have read at least six books, cover to cover, about Chopin. I knew everything about him and even named my pet rabbit after him. Everyone thought I was crazy.”

“Classical music?” Harry questioned, surprised.

She nodded, sitting up, “I’ve played piano since I was two.”

Harry pursed his lips, nodding his head, “Never judge a book by its cover.”

They stared at each other for a moment, silence filling the room. She looked more innocuous now; harmless as she sat with one leg crossed over the other. By this small conversation she had, she could see bits of himself in her eyes and it made him bring his guard down. For a moment, he was fascinated.

But her expression changed, more curious, as she asked, “So, how many lucky girls get the chance to have this one-on-one time with hottie Professor Styles?”

Harry sighed, rubbing his temples, “You exhaust me.”

“Or guys, I’m not judging,” she shrugged, “Though that would totally suck for Jesse. She’s really crushing.”

“I’ve never dated a student and I never will,” he said blandly.

“Never say never,” she smirked, “Why not?”

“Because they’re kids and it’s inappropriate.”

“Kids?” she snorted, “You’re barely four years older than most of your students. And everyone is of legal age.”

“I am not having this conversation with you,” he said, packing his things, “Our time is up. I’ve got to get going. I’ll see you in class next week.”

She grinned, gathering her things together and following him towards the door. As he reached for the door handle, she quickly put a hand on top of his, stopping him from turning it and making him look down at her as she said, “Don’t forget, Professor. Never say never.”

He watched as she opened the door and slipped out, turning her head once to wink back at him before she rounded a corner.

Harry found himself nervous and somehow anxious for the following week to arrive. It was the first time for years he had gotten there before any of his students. Every time the door opened and a student arrived, surprised by his early presence, he noticed he would jump and whip his head in the direction of the door. He tried to tell himself that he was just jittery or had too much coffee this morning, but he knew that wasn’t the reason.

When Y/N walked through the door, he felt his heart start to race.

“Good morning, Professor,” she smirked at him as she made her way up the steps towards the back of the class.

He nodded but didn’t respond. He felt stupid for not knowing what to say. There were so many options; hi, hello, how are you? Nothing. Harry watched out of the corner of her eye as she made a dramatic show of pulling out a notebook and a pen, sitting back in her chair and propping her legs up on the desk, making her short skirt slip up her thigh even more, waiting while she tapped her pen on the paper while the other arm was crossed over her stomach and her thumb grazed against her mouth.

He shook his head, pretending to search his briefcase for something as more students started to arrive, annoyed at himself for letting her get to him. In his four years of teaching, this had never been a problem before. How was she doing it?

Y/N waved as the group of kids she was seen talking to at the end of the last class squeezed in and they all excitedly waved back, making their way back to the seats in the row in front of her, spinning in their seats to talk. He wondered what they were talking about each time he saw her laugh or look down at him and hold eye contact.

The lecture started smoothly. He had them do another goofy exercise to get them ready for the class and was able to keep everyone’s attention as he explained notes and scales. Harry noticed the singer scribbling down in her notebook and was relieved to see she was taking notes this time. But what shocked him, even more, was her participation. The Professor, although known to make teaching and learning fun, was also known to ask a lot of hard questions throughout the class. Most, of which, the students rarely knew the answers to. That’s why he was surprised to see Y/N’s hand raised after nearly every question he asked, and even more taken back when her answers were right. Every single time.

Students began to become amused, automatically looking in between the two when a question would arise, and giggling at the incredulous expression on his face when she had, yet again, gotten the answer right. If he didn’t know any better, he would bet that by next week the class would turn it into some kind of a drinking game. He could have sworn he saw Y/N giggle under her breath and even blow a kiss.

After class, once again, Y/N was grouped on the steps by the rows of desks with Jesse, Mark, and their other friends. Y/N would twirl her hair and smile towards Mark and seemed to have him wrapped around her finger, but Harry also noticed how she’d look over Mark’s shoulder at him and bite her lip. She knew he’d be watching, and he hated himself for it.

Quickly, he packed his things and left the room, heading to his office to wait for her there, wondering what they were talking about. He closed the office door behind him, tossed his briefcase on the floor beside the paper shredder, and decided against turning the lights on. He blamed it on a splitting migraine, but it was really because there were too many intrusive thoughts running through his mind that he was doing everything he could to ease it, including pacing the room.

The attempts, however futile, were short lived. Minutes later there was a soft knock on the door and Y/N emerged, closing the door behind her, strutting right past him, and plopping on top of his desk again.

“How was that for participation, Harry?” she asked, propping a foot on the arm of his chair which made her skirt shimmy up her thigh just enough that if he were to look, he was sure he’d be able to see what she was wearing underneath.

He took a gulp and fought hard not to look down, lightly pushing her leg off of the arm of his chair so that both of her legs now hung down, taking a seat and crossing his arms, “It’s Professor Styles, and you did very well in class today, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Told you that I’d be a good student,” but her smile turned devilish as she spread her legs apart further and bent down closer to him, “But I can be bad if you’d like.”

“Please get off my desk and take a seat, Y/N. We’ve still got a lot of catching up to do.”

“Whatever you say, Professor,” she exaggerated, slowly slipping off of his desk and rounding to the other side.

Again, Harry tried his best to catch her up on lessons she missed, but it hardly seemed to get anywhere with Y/N’s constant interruption of inconsequential questions and arbitrary thoughts that seemed to almost pour out of her mouth without thought. He couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath a few times. She wasn’t boring, he’ll give her that much.

The more she fought against his attempts at teaching her, the more he realized that they weren’t going to get anywhere unless he gave her a little of what she wanted. So when she asked, “Do you have a girlfriend?” he sighed and ran his finger through his hair, giving in.

“No, I don’t. And why do you insist on coming to these meetings if you aren’t going to pay attention?”

“I am paying attention. You were talking about themes and motives of the piano and violin in Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony,” she said, confidently, crossing her arms, “I just think that it would be easier to come to class and learn if I knew my teacher a little better.”

He rolled his eyes at this attempt, but a smile crept on his face anyway, “What do you want to know?”

She smiled, sitting up, eagerly, “Well, it’s good to know you’re single. When was the last time you were in a relationship?”

He sighed, uncertain why he was even taking part in this conversation, “A little over a year.”

“And you haven’t tried again since?”

He shrugged, “I’ve been busy.”

“Or you were heartbroken.”

The response stung a little. She was right. And that annoyed him even more. How did she do this? Get under his skin so easily? Instead of answering that, he retorted with, “Well, what about you? You’re obviously single, otherwise, you wouldn’t be flirting so much with your professor or the soccer star.”

Her smirk stretched wider, “Oh, are we jealous of Mike?”

He scoffed, grabbing the few pieces of paper off of his desk and attempting to organize it in the side filing cabinet, “No, I’m not jealous of a student.”

“Mhmm. Well, for your information we were just talking about the party they’re having this weekend.”

He tried his best to look confused, although he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that party since she mentioned it last week, “Is that so?”

“Yeah, it’s on Saturday. Not sure if I’m going yet. I’m sure my manager and PR would have my head if I was caught getting sloppy at a college party. Not good for the image,” she whispered, rolling her eyes.

He shrugged, “College parties aren’t all that great, anyway.”

“I’m sure,” she said sarcastically, “Anyway, I have a concert the night before, so I’m usually exhausted by the next day. You should come.”

“To your concert?” he asked.

She raised an eyebrow, skeptically, “Unless you don’t like my music?”

Harry shrugged, “I haven’t really heard much of it,” he lied, “but my sister’s a big fan.”

“Well, I’ll put you down for a plus-one. As long as it’s just your sister.”

Harry felt a lump beginning to form in his throat and he shook his head, “I already have plans for Friday. But thanks, anyway.”

She shook her head, nonchalantly, “Well, offer still stands if your plans fall through.”

He tried his best to reroute the conversation back on topic and was thankful that she seemed to finally go along with it. But as it neared the end of the hour, he felt her eyes on his face more and more. He looked up in the middle of his sentence and froze when he saw her eyes on his. She seemed entranced and almost out of it. And something seemed to pull him into the same trance as her.

It was the first good look at her that he had gotten since their first meeting. Her skin looked soft and her eyes sparkled when the sun’s rays shone on them at just the right angle. He hadn’t noticed until now that the bridge of her nose was slightly elongated and somehow endearing. And her lips. Those lips.

Y/N shook her head and stood up. It was the first time that she seemed to be caught off guard, and that stroked his ego a bit. He glanced down at his watch and noticed that they had run overtime and he gasped. She seemed to realize, too. Hurriedly, they both began to collect their things, but in the frenzy, she accidentally flicked her pen off the desk and it ricocheted on his side, landing on the floor near his briefcase.

“Oh!” he heard her mutter, rounding the desk where they both hastily attempted to grab it.

Harry was the first to grab it and as they both stood up, they were face to face with each other, inches away. They froze, again, unable to move. He saw something in her eyes that he hadn’t seen before; nervousness. Y/N was always such a confident force, and to see her any less than that admittedly made him gratified, like he had obtained a victory. But he, himself, was losing the battle. She was breaking him down one wink at a time, and he had never felt so weak in his life.

He could feel the strain of his desire pulling him closer towards her, the gloss on her lips looked enticing. If no one stopped him soon, he wasn’t sure if he could hold off much longer. He saw her eyes begin to flutter shut as the gap between them closed. Her sweet, minty breath swirled in front of his lips, he could almost taste it. And then a loud knock on the door echoed around his office.

Y/N flew against the wall while Harry awkwardly knocked his elbow against the back filing cabinet just as Jesse haughtily belted into the room. Her wide smile slowly screwed up into trepidation at the awkward tension that filled the room as the professor and singer avoided eye contact with each other.

“Jesse!” Harry quickly spoke, “What can I help you with?”

“I’m sorry, I thought you’d be finished. I just had a few questions about the essay, but I can just email you.”

“No, no, it’s fine, come in. Y/N was just on her way out.”

“Okay, cool,” Jesse smiled, stepping in further and placing her things on the chair opposite his desk.

Harry watched as the two girls exchanged friendly smiles, but he could see the slight embarrassment behind Y/N’s as she made her way towards the door.

“Don’t forget about this weekend!” Jesse called out after her, “I’ve never seen Mark so excited for a party before.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Y/N faked a laugh, sharing one last concerned look with Harry before closing the door behind her on the way out.

All week he found himself analyzing all of the occurrences that led up to him and Y/N almost kissing. He debated his sentiments, trying to logic every feeling of vulnerability and affection away with a simple explanation. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to pay attention to his work, constantly stumbling over his words of forgetting what he was talking about. When his class ended early on Friday afternoon and he sat in silence in his apartment, he stared at the blank television screen, contemplating whether or not he should take up her offer to attend her concert.

He paced the floor, opened and closed the fridge, tried to scroll through his social media apps, or read a book, anything to keep her mind off of her. He picked his phone up and stared at the home screen for a few minutes, constantly unlocking it when it got dark. With a final sigh, he opened it once more and dialed a number, putting it up to her ear.

“Hello, ya nimrod. What’s going on?” He heard his sister’s voice ring through the other end.

“How do you feel about going to a Y/N Y/L/N concert tonight?”

“You serious? Tonight? Bloody hell, yeah, I’ll go!”

“I’ll pick you up in two hours.”

Time only seemed to drag for Harry, left with nothing but his thoughts. It was enough time to go back and forth on whether or not he was making the right decision. Ultimately, he decided to go. He had already invited Gemma and he would feel guilty for bailing after getting her hopes up.

The sun was beginning to set and Gemma was singing loudly to Y/N’s lyrics in the passenger seat beside him. His palms were sweaty, gripped tight against the steering wheel. As the song ended, Gemma turned the volume down and turned to her younger brother.

“How did you get Y/N Y/L/N tickets, anyway? I didn’t know you listened to her like that.”

“I don’t, really. I mean, I’ve heard a few songs. But she’s my student and invited us to come.”

“She’s your student?” Gemma laughed, amused, “Cut the shit, Harry. How? Did you win them on the radio or something?”

“I’m serious. She’s taking my class.”

“What?” Gemma gasped, “And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t think to.”

“You didn’t think to tell me that one of my favorite singers is a student of yours?” Gemma clarified. Eyebrows furrowed, she sat back and huffed, “Some brother you are.”

“Hey, now! I’m bringing you to her concert, aren’t I?”

The walk up to the ticket booth was one of the most humiliating things he had ever experienced as he uncomfortably explained who he was and that he was invited by the singer, herself. It took two people and a member of her staff to vouch for him before he and his sister were escorted through the venue and entered the pain event area through a private entrance that led them towards a VIP barricade towards the front of the stage. Thousands of screaming fans surrounded them, and Gemma looked around, shocked at the scene.

“This is insane!” Gemma shouted in his ear, bouncing on the balls of her toes.

Harry had to admit, it was pretty cool to see all of these people here for Y/N. He felt a sort of pride for her that he wasn’t quite expecting. And it didn’t take long for the lights to dim and the music to start.

He heard her before he saw her, and he felt his heart start to race again. He tried to play it off by the screams and the thumping bass, but when she finally came into view, he felt like he had been bolted to the floor, unable to move or talk or even smile. He was just stunned. Seeing her on stage was surreal. He knew of her, first, but it was hard for him to dissociate ‘student’ Y/N from ‘famous’ Y/N.

When they caught eyes and she realized he had come, a smile stretched across her face behind the microphone. He couldn’t help but mirror her, his shoulders relaxing as he managed a gentle wave. She walked closer to them on the stage, singing down at them, and he could hear his sister repeating ‘Oh my god, oh my god’ beside him as Y/N waved back in their direction.

Y/N was talented, there was no denying it. And the way that she interacted with her fans, you could tell that she was grateful for every second of it. It was touching. She was knocking down his assumptions about her little bit by little bit. He always thought that she’d be a spoiled, ungrateful celebrity, but that seemed to be completely false.

By the end of the concert, he had eased up and began to jump around, goofily, with his sister while Y/N watched, dancing around on stage, laughing and singing. Finally, the burly manager he had seen on the first day of their meeting with the Dean had approached him and his sister, informing them that they were invited backstage and to follow him.

His nerves began to rise in his chest again as they wove down several corridors until eventually, they stood before a door with Y/N’s name taped on it. The manager knocked loudly and waited a moment before they heard her voice on the other side call out, “Come in!”

With a turn of the knob, Y/N was now seen. She was in a new, more casual change of clothes and her hair was now up, but with visible beads of sweat lining her forehead and neck, she took a long swig of water.

“Hi!” she called, capping her drink and beckoning the two in, “Come in, come in! I’m so glad you came!”

“Hi! It’s so nice to meet you,” Gemma tip-toed closer to her, smiling coyly as the door was closed behind them.

“It’s nice to meet you, too!” Y/N grinned, giving Gemma a much-wanted hug, “Please tell me you’re Harry’s sister.”

“Yes, I’m Gemma, his older sister.”

“Oh, thank god. I was worried he’d bring a date,” Y/N said, boldly, “He’s been playing hard-to-get.”

“You’re interested in my brother?” Gemma asked, astounded, “You’re way out of his league.”

Harry’s mouth fell open as Y/N laughed, “Yeah, and you’d think that’d be enough for him, wouldn’t you? But apparently he’s got standards,” she hyperbolized, rolling her eyes.

For an hour, Harry watched and laughed as Y/N and his sister talked and got to know each other more. They made jokes at his expense, and exchanged stories from their childhoods, shocked by how similar they seemed.

“You grew up around here, right?” Gemma asked the singer, taking a sip from her second beer of the night.

Y/N nodded, “Yeah, about fifteen minutes from here.” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, knowing the only residential area in a fifteen-mile radius wasn’t exactly known to be the best neighborhood. Y/N seemed to gather his thoughts, further explaining, “It wasn’t always easy. My siblings and I were cramped in a two bedroom apartment and we didn’t have our own phones until well into our teens. I missed out on a lot growing up, but my parents did their best. We had everything we needed. I was lucky to be able to get all this and get them out of that apartment. My parents deserved a big house and a yard. I owed them that much.”

“How did you do it? How did you get to this point?” Harry asked, astounded.

Y/N shrugged, “Right place, right time. I was found singing at the mall for a small gig at a Christmas event. The rest is hard work and history.”

Harry shook his head, speechless. He felt guilty for passing judgment on her before, assuming that it was all handed to her and that she had got her start because of her parents' connections. She was self-made, smart, and deserving of every bit of success that came her way.

After one more round of beers, it was getting time for them to leave. Harry could see the excitement in her sister’s eyes start to be replaced by fatigue, and as much as he wanted to stay and talk some more, he knew he had to get a jump start on grading papers.

He set his empty bottle of beer down and Y/N frowned, “Time to go?”

“Yeah, should probably head out,” Harry nodded, pausing for a moment and taking in the frown on her face. He didn’t have time to think before he blurted out, “Want to join us for the ride?”

Her eyebrows raised and her lips twitched up into a smile, “Yeah, sure.”

Gemma let Y/N take the passenger seat and Harry felt tense as he drove, hand shifting the gears right beside her leg. He smiled every time he heard her laugh, though he couldn’t quite pay attention to what the girls were talking about. He was able to gather that they exchanged phone numbers before he reached Gemma’s house. His sister gave them both kisses on the cheek before bounding up the steps to her home.

The silence was deafening and Harry was certain she could hear him gulp as he turned to her and asked, “Where to?”

He knew what she was going to say. He didn’t need to ask. But to hear it come out of her mouth was something almost too much to handle, “Your place.”

He reversed out of the driveway, barely croaking out, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why?” she asked, turning towards him.

“You’re still my student.”

“So? We can just talk.”

Harry turned and looked at her, giving her a knowing look, “You know it’s not to just talk.”

“Why can’t it be? You don’t have any self-restraint? Is it because you like me?”

Harry felt a blush rise to his cheeks as he fumbled out a, “No.”

“Well then, what’s the problem?”

“......Fine.”

There wasn’t another word uttered for the rest of the journey to his place and he began to overthink. Was his apartment clean? Had he done the dishes? How messy was his room? Did it smell? He knew he should have gotten that diffuser from the store last week.

His nerves rose as he led her up to his apartment complex, pushing the door open and flicking on the lights, breathing a sigh of relief to see that it was, for the most part, fairly tidy. Y/N walked past him, scanning the scene, and as he locked the door he also held his breath, waiting for her to say something.

“Nice view,” she noted, briefly looking out of the window before turning to face him.

He tossed his keys on the entry table and motioned towards the kitchen to his left, “Drink?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Tea? Coffee? Water?”

“Water’s fine,” she said, making her way towards his living room.

He took the moment to catch his breath, trying to regain control of his thoughts before joining Y/N on his couch, handing her the drink. They both took a swig and he felt her eyes bearing holes into him, again.

When he set his drink down, he turned to her, “You’re very intense, you know.”

She smirked, leaning into the couch some more, “Yeah. I just know what I want.”

“And what’s that.”

“You.”

The immediate response caught him off-guard, but he wasn’t surprised by the answer. At this point, he knew exactly what she wanted, and was only feeding his ego more. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued by her and hadn’t thought about the same, but a part of him liked the chase.

He chuckled, sitting back, “You’re my student.”

She moved closer to him, more energetic this time, “I just happen to be into Musical Theory, that’s all.”

“You’re still my student,” he grinned, amused, patting her leg.

“So, what if I drop out? Would that change anything?”

Harry’s grin faded and his hand stayed where it was, resting on her thigh. He stared into her shining eyes again, seeing the seriousness behind them, and he froze, unsure of what to say. Would it change anything if she dropped out of his class? He wasn’t sure it would even need to come to that if she kept looking at him like that any longer.

His eyes flickered from her eyes, to her lips, and back up to her eyes as she waited for a response. He debated whether or not to just give in and kiss her right there. She wanted it, he wanted it, why keep fighting it? There weren’t any rules against relationships with students at his University, not like they’d even fight him on this one; they’re the ones that basically told him to give her everything she wanted.

But when he didn’t respond, Y/N pulled back away. He slumped, kicking himself for not pulling a move sooner. And after a moment of silence, she asked, “Hey, is it okay if I use your shower, real quick? I’m still sweaty from the show and I feel gross. I can take an uber home afterward.”

A million thoughts ran through his mind. Was that a move? Or an invite? Should he ask to join her? Why did she have to leave? He could drive her home, she didn’t need to take an Uber. But the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “Uh, yeah, sure.”

He showed her to the bathroom and went to grab her a towel from the linen closet as she adjusted the knobs and stuck her hand under the flow of water, gauging the temperature. By the time he got back in, she seemed happy with the warmth of the flow and took her hair out of its bun, placing the hair tie on the edge of his sink. He hung the grey towel on the rack beside the shower.

“Let me know if you need anything,” he muttered.

She smiled, “Thanks,” and before he was fully out of the room, she began to pull at the ends of her shirt. Quickly, he scurried out of the bathroom and closed the door to give her privacy.

Once out, his hands shot up to his forehead and he crouched, mumbling to himself a frustrated, “Fuck! What the fuck is wrong with you? Idiot!”

He sat impatiently on his couch, waiting for her to finish. When he heard the screech of the knobs turning and the pressure from the water fade, he shifted his position and quickly forced his attention elsewhere, trying to act casual. But when he heard the creak of the door opening, he turned his attention to see Y/N standing in the doorway, bathroom light glowing behind her, hair rang out and damp, clutching the towel around her body.

His eyes widened a bit as she spoke, “Do you have clothes I can borrow? Mine are still covered in sweat.”

“Uh, yeah, probably. In my room,” he stammered, getting to his feet and leading the way to his bedroom.

She followed, her feet lightly padding the wood floors. He felt almost embarrassed to have her in his bedroom. He wasn’t sure why, it’s not like it was dirty and he didn’t have anything oddities displayed, still, it was an intimate space, and to have her there felt personal.

He opened the bottom drawer of his dresser where he kept his pajamas and motioned towards it, standing up straight, “You can borrow anything from here.”

She bent down in front of him to rummage through, giving him a better look at her back. It looked clean, soft, and supple as droplets of water still lined her back and dripped from the ends of her hair, getting absorbed by the thin white towel she had wrapped around her. When she stood up, he took a step back and she turned, holding one of his oversized white t-shirts and a pair of his plaid pajama pants.

He stood there, unable to move as she stared at him, raising an eyebrow. And still, as she tossed the clothes on the bed behind him, he found himself, once again, rooted to the spot. A smirk started to form on her face and her voice was soft and playful as she spoke.

“How’s that self-restraint going?” she teased.

He didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He just looked at her. And when her playful smile began to shift into something more alluring, he held his breath, watching as she untucked the towel around her chest and let it fall to the ground. His eyes instantly dropped to her exposed chest and he felt his heartbeat pounding rapidly in his chest as she stepped closer to him, barely twelve inches, refusing to take her eyes off of his.

“I know you want to,” she whispered, stroking his arms before taking hold of his hands, lifting them and placing them on her chest, “Touch me.”

He felt his erection becoming uncomfortable as he ran out of room in his pants for growth, massaging her chest. His attention roamed back up, locking eyes with her again. There was no stopping it.

************************************************** In a bout of passion, they threw themselves at each other, hungrily attaching their lips to one another, tongues circling and roaming the other’s mouth. Y/N tore fabric after fabric off of him as they spun, grabbing at each other roughly and without deliberation. Soon, they were both naked and knocking into walls and tripping over clothes.

Harry pushed her up against the dresser as she grabbed hold of his dick, pumping her hands up and down his shaft as he moaned into her mouth.

“Does that feel good, Professor?” she bit his lip with a smile.

“Ungh,” he grunted, pulling away. He spun her around so that her back was to his chest, and forced her down to bend over his dresser, propping one of her legs up on the top of it before he got to his knees, burying his face in her muff.

She cried out, “Yes! Teach me, Professor!”

He flicked his tongue inside of her, lapping up all of her juices while he rubbed himself. He could have kept going for hours, but he could feel her legs start to tremble. When he stood up, he slapped his cock on her ass a couple of times, swiping his tip against her entrance enough to get it lubricated before slipping right into her.

Y/N threw her head back, breathing, “Oh my god, you feel so good, Harry.”

He wrapped an arm around her neck while his other hand clasped over her mouth as he grunted, “Professor Styles,” before sucking on her shoulder blade.

When he loosened his hand from her mouth to take hold of her hip, she whined, “I’m so sorry, Professor Styles. I’m not always bad.”

“No, Y/N,” he pulled out of her, spinning her to face him, tempting her as he walked backwards towards his bed, “You’re my good girl.”

The back of his legs hit his bed and he scooched himself back, letting her climb over top of him, straddling his hips. She bent down, biting his lip again as she lowered herself onto him, gasping as her cunt swallowed him up.

She leaned back, letting him get a better look at her, breasts jumping up and down along with her. He ran a hand from her cleavage down to her navel, grazing her soft skin and watching as her mouth formed an ‘o’, scrunching up her eyebrows in pleasure as she called out his name.

“That’s a good girl,” he breathed, an arm behind his head as he watched, “Make me cum.”

She rode him faster, breathing heavier as he continued to grunt, propping himself up now and suckling on her skin. Her breaths became more shallow and her movements more rigid as she wrapped her arms around his neck, forcing herself onto him even harder. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her down onto him, even more, to go deeper. He could feel her throbbing around him, which only made him more aroused.

“Good girl, Y/N,” he breathed, “Cum on my dick.”

She buried her face into the crook of his neck, and with three more pumps she let out a scream as she said, “Pro-fessor Styles!”

He smirked, quickly flipping her on her back and pumping harder and faster into her as her legs wrapped around his waist. She panted, squeaking as he grunted into her. He looked into her eyes which were full of lust as she stared back into him and he could feel himself start to build up. Even faster now, knowing he was about to finish, he smashed his lips down on her quickly before pulling out and squirting his jizz on her stomach, letting her rub out every last drop.

*******************************************

He collapsed on the bed beside her as they panted, trying to catch their breath before he got the strength to reach down and grab his shirt for them to clean up the mess.

When he turned to face her, she smirked, “Do I need to drop your class? Or can we fuck in your office next time?”

He let out a breathy laugh and mumbled, “That depends. Are you going to the party with Mark tomorrow?”

“Do you want me to?” she retorted.

With a deep breath, Harry shimmied closer to her, nuzzling his head into her chest which made her wrap her arms around him, running her fingers through her hair as he whimpered, “No.”

She laughed, kissing his curly brown locks, “Told you I’d make you fall in love with me.”

------------------------------------

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jarofstyles · 4 years

Text

Level Up II

A/N: Here is our part 2 of nerdy!harry and things are getting even more steamy hehe

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pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: smut. filth even, oral sex (giving and receiving), daddy kink, hints of angst?, fluff too

word count: 15k

Harry woke up and was positive he dreamt it all, but he already had a good morning text from Y/N and it was proven that it wasn’t fake. They’d both been filthy and sexual and she was coming over tonight and possibly will fall asleep in his bed? What the fuck? Extra effort was put into smelling good and stuff, so that she would be impressed if she saw him. He had sent back a good morning text as well before he left for school. Backpack lazily on his back, thankfully Niall was there to walk in with him. People tended to leave him alone more when other people were around. Talking about the overwatch game he played the night before, Harry listened half heartedly as he fixed up his books and took out what he needed for his first classes. That was until he heard a soft voice call his name, causing butterflies to flood his stomach! He hadn’t told Niall or anyone for that matter that they were hanging out. It didn’t mean something in a way a friend would care until yesterday, and he wouldn’t violate her trust when it came to that.

Y/N separated from her friends when she saw Harry in the hallway, making her way over so that she could get that hug she had spent all night thinking about.

“Harry!” She called, smiling widely once she had reached him. “Hi Niall.” She waved to him as well before going in to give Harry that hug. “You smell good.” She mumbled, nuzzling against him a bit. Y/N noticed that he was also wearing a plain shirt today, a pair of jeans. Simple. It worked. He looked great, wondered if he put in an effort just for her. It made her smile.

He hadn’t expected a hug in the middle of a busy hallway, with everyone looking, but he wasn’t going to reject a hug. Y/N was bold in not caring about what her friends thought. And of course, Niall was not at all expecting that.

“Hi. Thank you.” He placed his hand on her back and rubbed a little bit, feeling a bit stiff but not because of her. It was in case people were looking, he didn’t want her to have to deal with anyone being mean to her. That would kill him. She looked hot. Like so fucking hot. And she didn’t even try much. A tight tee shirt and jeans and he was nearly drooling. They clung to her curves and showed them off and Harry couldn’t help but remember seeing her last night in that video, before trying to push that down. He was just happy to see her.

“Y/N... hi!” Niall squeaked, looking around Harry in shock. Y/N had her cheek rested on his chest and was looking at Niall and he could feel her smile at him through his shirt.

“Loosen up...” Y/N mumbled softly, “‘s okay.” She reminded Harry and pulled back to give him a smile. She wanted to kiss him really bad. Honestly, she didn’t care if people were looking, she didn’t care what people thought because at the end of the day she was student body president for a reason. Everyone else could fuck off. She got up on her tiptoes, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Can I kiss you right now? Like a quick one.” Y/N was desperate, she didn’t know if she could wait till the end of the school day for that. She didn’t want to be super PDA like but this was for her. She just—

“Y/N!” Lauren called her, “come on!” She seemed confused but Y/N didn’t give a fuck.

“I’ll meet you there.” She called back to her and focused her attention back on Harry. She wanted to spend as much time as she possibly could with him.

Harry couldn’t tell her no. He knew he would be getting hounded by Niall, who would tell their whole friend group but hell, he couldn’t tell her no. And he wanted a kiss. So fucking bad.

“Yeah- yeah, if you want one.” He stuttered. He hoped she knew it wasn’t because of her that he was nervous, but when she got on her tiptoes and cupped his jaw, the kiss made him forget anything else. It was perfect. Her plushy lips pressing against his once and then again, Harry feeling her arm move up to curl over his shoulder again. They were lost in each other, Y/N only pulling back when Lauren called for her again. His eyes were wide. They’d kissed a bit more than they’d planned and a few people had seen. Which meant, the whole damn school would know by lunch time. Yeah, thank god he had his hiding spot in the library.

“I’ll see you later.” She cooed, giving him once last kiss on the cheek before waving goodbye. Y/N was very glad that she had gotten her morning kisses, smiling brightly up at him. “Bye Niall.” She smiled, walking her way back to her friend group despite all the stares. Y/N was happy and that was all that mattered.

“What the fuck was that?” Lauren asked, causing Y/N to laugh.

“What do you mean?” She didn’t understand why it was such a big deal.

“One second you’re partnered with him, the next you’re kissing him? It’s a project not a charity case.” She scoffed causing Y/N to stop and her tracks and furrow her brows.

“Excuse me?” She couldn’t believe she had the nerve. “Why is it any of your business? We finished the project, and I fucking like him.” Y/N said sternly, “if you don’t like it, you can fuck all the way off Lauren, I’ve had it.” She would not take that kind of judgement. She knew Lauren needed her more than she needed her.

While Y/N’s ‘friends’ weren’t happy, Niall was in disbelief. Firing questions left and right and Harry didn’t have many answers because he still didn’t quite understand it himself.

“Mate... we were partnered together. We got on right away and clicked over some stuff. She’s... fucking incredible.” He felt himself about to drift off thinking about her. “So nice, smart, and she isn’t judgemental. I dunno how she ended up with those people cause... she’s amazing. Truly.” He was proud to know her. Be her... friend? Whatever they were. Kissing buddies? He hoped that wasn’t all they ended up being though. “And then, we just... I dunno. Yesterday we kissed. And it felt really good, right. So I’m just feeling it out? I can’t believe she would ever go for someone like me. She’s astronomically out of my league but... she wants to hang out with me. I’d never deny her.” He explained to Niall, who was so confused and intrigued.

“Dude, The rest of the group is gonna freak. You’ve had a crush on her for years.” His friends knew all about his crush. He looked at her Instagram a lot. And stared a lot.

Y/N was genuinely confused as to why her friends made such a big deal out of it. Why was it any of their business? “I really thought you guys would be happy for me...” She frowned, shaking her head. “Don’t have to be so mean just cause he isn’t like you... don’t like that you talk about people that way, you know that.” Y/N said feeling her blood begin to boil.

She couldn’t take any of that anymore. She simply stayed away from them for the rest of the classes, waiting until lunch so that she could sit down and have a chat with Harry. She hoped he wasn’t getting shit from this, that would make her feel awful.

‘Hii, where are you? x’

It was simple but she couldn’t find him anywhere in the cafeteria. The next best thing was spotting his tiny friend group.

“Hey, Niall. Hi everyone. Do you know where Harry is?” Y/N asked sweetly, waiting for an answer.

“Oh.. h-hi Y/N!” He said with wide eyed. She never approached before and genuinely had surprised him. He was jealous but only because he had wanted a girlfriend. That’s what he and Y/N were, he was assuming. “I dunno, he never tells me where he goes during lunch. I’m sorry.” He felt bad that he couldn’t help her but it was a mystery to him and their little table of friends.

‘Hiii. C: I am in the library. Second floor and towards the thesauruses.’

Harry has been harassed a good deal today, especially by Y/N’s friends. It wasn’t her fault. Not at all. Her friends were assholes but, he did wonder if maybe it was true. If she felt bad for him being a lonely virgin. He hoped not but he knew he wasn’t good enough for her at all. She was perfect and he was not, at all.

“Oh— okay yeah I—” She started and then looked at her phone to see he had texted her. Her face visibly lit up. “That’s him! Sorry to disturb your lunch, have a good day.” Y/N cooed, turning around and making her way to the library where apparently Harry was. She never knew you could eat in there? Maybe Harry was just an exception.

“Hi there...” She cooed, smiling as she approached him. “Is this seat taken?” Y/N teased, sitting down next to him and instantly going to give him a hug. She nuzzled into his side, letting out a sigh. “You okay?” She was hoping he was, he knew how vicious some of these girls could be. She hated that they picked on him. “Just wanted to come and check up on you... don’t really want to sit with everyone else today. Don’t like the way they’re acting.” Y/N scrunched her nose and went to take her lunch out from her bag. “Do you want a cookie?”

Y/N was happily welcomed to sit next to him, his heart beating fast again when she went for a hug and cuddled up against him. This was the shot that felt so good, the fact she was confident and comfortable enough with him to do this. That he was even an option for him in the first place. She was amazing.

“Yeah... your friends aren’t happy with this at all.” He laughed softly, though insecurity surely ran through. They’d cornered him and told him that he should leave Y/N alone. That he wasn’t what she needed and he was going to damage his reputation and that he should give up for her sake. But if Y/N wanted him, he couldn’t tell her no. He cared about her so much and they obviously had a chemistry. Last night had been some of the most confident he had ever been, despite being blushy about it all day when it came into his mind, which was a lot. “I’ll take one, sure.” He motioned to his chips, knowing she could take some if she wanted one.

“I shouldn’t really call them my friends... they’re not great at all.” Y/N sighed, pushing her hair back behind her ear before handing him a cookie. “Did they say anything to you?” She asked curiously, “please tell me you didn’t listen to a word they said.” Y/N sat up properly, looking at him with genuine concern. “I just... I’ve known them for so long but none of them are like... I don’t know. If anything this should be a reason for me to stop associating with them all together. They’re horrid.” Y/N frowned, shaking her head, “I can’t believe they think that’s okay, they need to grow up. I don’t want to associate with people like that anymore... they don’t—” She shook her head, huffing as she bit into her sandwich. Y/N went to reach for a chip, thanking him softly before going back to eating. She was so thankful for him. She was glad that she was coming over tonight as well, they could cuddle and play games and maybe do other things. Only if he wanted though.

“Yeah they uh— they said some stuff.” He cleared his throat nervously. Y/N was going to be upset because he knew she didn’t believe it herself but he still worried. “Just said stuff about you being out of my league and stuff which I knew. I’ve always known that. But they said I’m going t-to tear you down socially and like... I’m gonna drag you under?” He shrugged, looking at his hands as he avoided her eye contact. “That you only felt bad for me and stuff. Damaging your reputation wouldn’t be worth it so I should just leave you alone.” It hurt him because he didn’t want to. He would do what Y/N wanted but he also didn’t want to make her life hell too. She did say she didn’t consider those other people friends though. He wondered... Did she really think so? Would she leave her friends behind because they were mean to him?

“They said that?” She frowned and let out a deep breath because she knew Harry was definitely thinking about it. Thinking that what they said was the truth. “It’s not true. None of it. I’m not out of your league, you won’t damage my reputation, nothing I do can do that... unless I turn into a raging bitch all of a sudden. The average person at this school doesn’t hate you, they don’t know you, it’s only those dicks that make it seem like everyone does. I hate that I’m associated with them but I just don’t know how to get away. I-I won’t let them make fun of you or anyone like that.” Y/N felt her heart sink to her stomach. “Do people think I’m like that?” She asked curiously, hoping that wasn’t the case. “I just... please, don’t believe them. Please? I wouldn’t be hanging out with you if I didn’t want to. I’m grown. I know what I want and what I’m doing...”

“No— no, Everyone thinks you’re nice. M-my friends always wondered why you’d hang out with them cause you’re- you’re not like them.” He reassured quickly. His hand went to grab hers because he could see the sadness on her face and he hated it. Y/N didn’t deserve to feel sad. “I’m sorry— I don’t plan on like, not talking to you or anything. I promise. I just don’t want to be the cause of you losing friends. Or, if that’s what you want, then I support you.” He tripped on his words as he tried his best tone reassuring. “You’re really great, Y/N. I’m... a little bit nervous cause, you’re so great and I feel like m’not, and I don’t know what I can offer you but I’m gonna do my best?” He was speaking softly but Y/N seemed to like that he was closer to her so she could hear.

“Just wish people didn’t care so much about my life.. what does it matter to them?” Y/N couldn’t understand, but at least she had Harry who could see things from her point of view. Or at least try to. “I mean... I’m glad people don’t think I’m like that, but... I know none of this will matter in college.” That was true. She was sort of holding out till highschool was over to get rid of her friend group and make a new one. She found it hard to make sure that they stayed in check, they clearly found time to be mean to anyone that they could which she couldn’t understand why. “I really like you. I do. And I hate that people are trying to invalidate my feelings to put you down.” Y/N frowned, moving her hand up to cup his cheek. “I’m sorry... you don’t deserve any of this.”

“S’okay, Y/N. Really. Like you said— doesn’t matter in college, yeah?” He felt the need to comfort her more than himself because she looked genuinely distraught that he had to do shit like this. “We’re okay. Yeah? We’re fine. Can just let them mind their business?” He knew it was easier said than done but he was willing to focus on her. It wasn’t like she didn’t have the majority of his attention otherwise. Absolutely did. “What- what did you want to watch tonight?” He questioned. Y/N was coming over and potentially sleeping over- they’d been texting a bit during classes and she said she was excited to lay with him. Which, of course, made his stomach explode in butterflies. Y/N smiled a bit when he moved the topic onward to tonight. She had been thinking about it all day, all she wanted to do was lay with him and cuddle and maybe kiss and do some other things.

“What kind of movies do you like?” She asked softly, “cause we can watch something action or like a comedy, or we can watch a Disney movie.” Y/N giggled at the idea. It was relaxing to have a person. Y/N knew they weren’t official but having someone around for a comfort thing was great. She liked showering people with attention, loved smothering them in her love. Harry was the perfect candidate it seemed like because he felt similar to her. At least she thought so. Part of her wished he was more expressive. She wanted to know exactly how he felt about her and what he wanted or what he was scared of so she could open up to him more and make him more comfortable. There was only so much she could do.

“Yeah? I’d like that.” He swallowed his pride a bit and turned to her more, squeezing her hand. “M’really excited.” It may not seem like much but, Harry wasn’t one to normally do shit like this. Expressing feelings was hard. Especially when they were deep feelings. Last night had been... amazing. He truly couldn’t believe that she had chosen him out of all the people possible to do that with. That she returned feelings. But he had to make sure she was being taken care of as well. “I’m sorry if I was... really forward last night.” The blush came back to his face. “I don’t know.. something got into me. I just wanted to say sorry if I like, did too much.”

“No, oh my god, no— you were great.” She told him with a shake of her head, blushing as she made eye contact. “Honestly, please don’t feel embarrassed or anything, I really liked it.” Y/N smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek softly. “It’s the weekend though... got lots of time to just relax and stuff.” Y/N reminded him, “and I want to get to know you more and stuff... and even when I’m at home we could like... game together or something. Whatever you wanna do.” She let out a small sigh, “Can I have a kiss?” She was feeling desperate for another after everything that had gone down. Y/N knew that a little kiss from Harry would brighten her day. She sure hoped that it brightened his.

The fact that she kept asking for kisses had Harry on cloud nine. She genuinely was loving the kisses and kept getting them and with each one, he became more and more comfortable with her.

“Yeah... sounds really good. I’d love to game with you.” That would make his whole life. Excitement bloomed in him. Yes, that would be a lot of fun. Something he was hoping for. Y/N in his gaming room... maybe right cuddled next to him. A dream. “And— yeah. You can have them whenever.” He was doing his best to be more confident for her sake. Y/N deserves it. Especially with how she defended him. He could be brave, too. Leaning forward, he cupped the side of her face and tried not to hesitate before pressing their lips together. It was like as soon as their mouths met, everything else wasn’t there. His worries weren’t, because it felt natural and good to just be there, warm lips pressed against his. Y/N’s hand holding the wrist that cupped her face.

----

Y/N was really excited to go over to Harry’s. He deserved a really good night with just the two of them, relaxing and playing games. Maybe something else. She had told her mom that she was staying the night at Lauren’s so she wouldn’t be interrupted. Everything was in place really, she’d even worn a sexy yet casual outfit. A pink sailor moon shirt with matching shorts and sports bra. She had brought a little bag of stuff just in case, knowing it would be weird to leave for a sleep over with nothing and made her way down a few houses to Harry’s. Y/N knocked on the door and waited, rocking back and forth a bit. She was ready to see him, to cuddle and kiss him again. It was probably strange considering the two of them had seen each other a few hours ago at school, but she did really miss him. She liked him a whole lot too, especially after their little phone call. Fuck, that phone call…

Harry has nervously cleaned the whole house after school, making sure it was spotless. He’d ran to the store and got a stupid amount of snacks because he hadn’t asked Y/N what she liked and didn’t want to be obvious, so the pantry was stacked. Thank god his parents weren’t home and wouldn’t be until next week. He made his bed with fresh sheets and cleaned his bathroom and game room. Showered and put on Grey sweats and a plain blue tee shirt, so he didn’t seem to be trying hard. He didn’t know the first thing about fashion and hoped it would be good enough. He missed Y/N even if it seemed stupid. He liked her a lot and his tummy felt warm and fuzzy when he thought about her- especially their night before. She gave him confidence he hadn’t ever had. Incredible if you asked him. When he heard the door knock, he ran for it and took a second to collect himself before opening the door.

Well. Shit.

She looked... like any gamers dream, but specifically his. They’d agreed on pajamas but she was wearing a big oversized sailor moon tee with barely visible shorts. And looked so fucking hot that he could feel his throat clam up a bit. Luckily he was met with Y/N hugging him.

“Hiii!” She giggled, wrapping her arms around his waist tightly and inhaling his scent. Clearly they’d both showered, properly prepared for the night. Y/N felt her cheeks heat up a little at the thought, mostly because she was excited about potentially doing things with him tonight. Even if it was him feeling her up, anything would work for her. “You smell good.” She mumbled for the second time today, allowing them to step into his house as she pulled away to close the door. His parents wouldn’t be here for the weekend so it was properly ideal, she could stay here all weekend if she could convince her parents she wasn’t doing anything bad. “I hope you don’t mind, I brought a little bit of stuff so my mom wouldn’t think I was being weird. She insisted I bring these over.” Y/N chuckled, pulling out a little container with cupcakes. “Made them last night.” Y/N knew that her mom and dad would love Harry, he was a sweet boy, but they probably wouldn’t agree with her sleeping over.

“It’s okay.” She could stay over. He would like that. It made him nervous but also excited because there was nothing he wanted more than to wake up beside her and touch and feel her all over, if that was something that she was okay with. Just a proper cuddling session. “You’re an angel.” He smiled at the cupcakes, taking both them and the bag from her hands and leading her towards the kitchen. “They look very good. I didn’t know you liked baking.” Actually, there was so much Harry didn’t know and that was the exciting part about it. He was hopeful that perhaps she would be open to sharing more!

“I went to the store to get snacks. I uh, I went a little bit nuts with the card. It’s okay though because I didn’t know what you liked.” He said sheepishly. “I have a bunch here and then in my game room I’ve got a ton of stuff.” He itched his neck but felt relieved when she looked impressed. He knew he went through a lot of effort so he hoped she could see that. “I didn’t know what you’d want for dinner, so I wanted to figure that out with you.”

“Awe, that’s so nice.” Y/N cooed, wrapping her arms around his waist again. “Don’t have to do that for me though, would have been happy with a bag of plain tortilla chips even.” She said and shrugged. “But thank you...” Y/N went to grab some Pringle’s and some sour patch kids, her two favorite snacks, “do you have drinks upstairs?” She asked softly, looking up at him with big eyes. “Also, what snacks do you like?” She wanted to make sure she grabbed them for him too. When she spotted the white cheddar cheez-its hiding she gasped, grabbing them as well. “Upstairs?” She followed him up, being carefully with the food as they made their way up to his room. Y/N placed everything down on one of his bedside tables, looking up at him as she took a seat on his bed. “Can do pizza? Pizza is always good and easy, can’t think of anything else around here I know of.”

Harry placed her bag down on his desk chair. This was real. It felt like she was here to sleep over and trust, none of his sleepovers ever went the way he wanted this one to go. Surely he would get to kiss her some. She had told him she was excited to get some kissing done via text.

“Yeah— yeah, we can do that.” He wiped his hands on his sweats as he took her in, sitting on the side of his bed and looking at him. Never I’m a million years bad he actually thought this could Happen for him. She had been a dream but he hadn’t really thought it could happen. “I have drinks in the mini fridge, hold on.” He leaned down and went under his desk to grab a soda and a water. He would take whichever she didn’t. “Sorry if I’m being awkward again. I’m excited to have you here.”

“No, baby, don’t be sorry. It’s okay, it’s cute.” Y/N smiled, pulling her legs up on the bed properly before making grabby hands at him. “Come here.” She cooed, wanting a proper cuddle as it has been a few hours since they’ve been able to do so. A whole night and day really, their little cuddle at lunch wasn’t enough. She figured once they cuddled up Harry would be a lot more comfortable with her, more at ease. Or maybe not. Regardless, she just wanted a cuddle. “What do you wanna do then?” She asked curiously, pushing a few pieces of hair away from his face. “Watch a movie and play some games?” She really wanted him to take the lead, wanting to know more about what he wanted and liked. Y/N felt like she had been deciding a majority of their activities and wanted to give him some freedom. “Can do whatever really, it’s up to you... just wanna hang out with you.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ve got good movies on my Netflix. Or my Xbox is in here and I have 2 controllers.” He said softly. It felt good to have her hands on him. It was so comforting to have Y/N touching at him and playing with his hair. The moment he relaxed on the bed he could feel her settle in. To press herself against him. He was going to be braver today. He would be able to touch her hips and hair and appropriate places until given permission to do otherwise. He could be a man for her. She wouldn’t want a nervous baby. “I’m still happy and a little shocked you want to hang out with me but h really like that you’re here.” He admitted. It was surreal to have her so close and see her smile up at him. Truly, he was happy as a clam at the moment. “Just let me know which one you want to do so I can set it up.” He figured a movie because she was already trying to nearly crawl on him- and he couldn’t complain. It was amazing to feel her wanting to be close.

“But... Why are you so shocked? I kiss you all the time, of course I want to hang out with you.” She said as a matter of factly before shifting on him once again. “Speaking of....” Y/N whispered, leaning up to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Can I have my kiss now?” She was really gentle with him still, not wanting to overwhelm him. Y/N moved forward, pressing her lips against his in a sweet kiss. It was perfect. A sweet relief after a long day. She hummed against his lips, her tongue licking over his bottom lip for more. God she wanted more. She could never really get enough and she was positive it was because he was so eager to learn and give to her. She wanted to do the same for him. Y/N kept it relatively tame, not wanting to get too much into things right away. They’d save it for later, definitely would be partaking in some sexy time. Harry was prepared, fresh sheets and everything. He really was ready for her.

He was getting the hang of this kissing thing. He was hoping that he could be as good as Y/N was at it because she made his head fuzzy. It was amazing. So much fun to just kiss and feel her body touch his, her breath against his mouth, her hands on his shoulders or hair or his jaw.

“I missed doing that.” He sighed, feeling himself loosen up a bit. Her kisses had healing and relaxing powers. There was no debating it. “You’re so lovely, Y/N. Course I’m shocked still. I’ve been wanting to hang out with you for ages and now I get to... s’surreal. Like a dream.” He murmured. She didn’t understand just how appealing and enchanting she was. He hoped to show her that she was. He leaned forward and gave her another peck before pulling back and letting her head rest in his shoulder. It was relaxing to have her here and enthralling as well. Y/N smiled at that, pressing another kiss to his cheek before resting her head on his chest. Her hand traced shapes into his side, feeling relaxed here.

“There’s no rush, it’s the weekend yeah?” She cooed, listening when he mentioned that hanging out with her still felt so surreal. She could understand what he meant, but she wanted nothing more than to make him comfortable. “Let me know what I can do to help, want you to know it’s not a dream...” Y/N said softly, pressing another soft peck to his cheek and then to his lips as he turned to peck hers. “Know it’s a lot but... just wanna make it feel normal... so you can be comfortable around me.... I’ll always get butterflies, I’m sure you will too... but I doubt what you ever doubting this or yourself yeah?” She nuzzled into his neck and placed a few kisses there, letting out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding in. “Can put on whatever you want, even an anime.” Y/N smiled, “can show me your favorite or something new we can start together.”

He forgot she did like anime. How had he been able to achieve a woman like Y/N, the world had given them the best chance. He put on an anime but knew he would spend the majority of it staring at her. Y/N was in his bed, cuddled up to him, sitting and holding his hand and playing with rings. He was thinking about how he got to kiss the pretty pink lips of her and how he got to hold her soft hands. Got to text her. He was hoping that Y/N would want this for a long time. That they could try a real relationship. He would ask her if that’s what this was. Eventually. Right now he was just enjoying what she had to offer, grateful for it all. He knew she could feel him observing her but he was in awe of how beautiful she was. That she looked so natural and soft and was enjoying his touch. Cautiously, he brought a hand up to brush away the messy hair from her forehead and tucked it behind her ear.

Y/N felt his eyes on her, clearly he wasn’t paying attention to the anime he had put on. He was just observing her and gently caressing her skin, pushing her hair back away from her face and behind her ear. She turned to look at him, eyes wide and innocent, questioning what he was doing. Harry was a sweet boy, his intentions were pure and it tugged at her heart strings. She took this moment to observe him, just admiring his beautiful eyes and just how soft his skin was. The little freckles he had and the lines where his dimples formed. Y/N wished he knew just how attractive he was, knew that if people saw him for who he really was they’d be all over him.

“You’re really pretty. Sometimes it feels like you’re a painting.” He wasn’t sure if that made sense but she had that timeless beauty in his opinion. That she could be in any era and be the most beautiful girl In the land. He was curious to see how she would age. Gracefully, he was positive. “I mean it.” He smiled when she rolled her eyes at him. “Heeeey. I’m trying to compliment you. M’sorry. You’re just very distracting.” He admitted softly. Y/N was the most welcome distraction there was. This could be his reality. His every day. One day they could be older and she could choose him to be the one to wake up next to. It had his mind racing a mile a minute. Especially thinking about last night and how she had made him all the more confident. Y/N felt a blush on her cheeks again, looking at him and rolling her eyes because he really did flatter her too much.

“Shouldn’t you be watching the tv and not me?” She whispered, leaning forward to peck his lips. “Thank you though, I really do appreciate it.” She did. Not many guys took the time to tell her things like that. She’d usually just get the, ‘you’re so sexy’ or the ‘nice tits’. It was never, ‘you’re so beautiful’ or ‘you’re a dream’. “I’m sorry I’m distracting, don’t mean it..” She pouted, cuddling back into his shoulder and pressing a kiss just beneath his jaw. If she could she’d just spend all day kissing him. She didn’t care about the games or the pizza, she just wanted to kiss him and cuddle him and maybe do more. Show him the world, give him that confidence or more like help him find it. It was in there, she knew it was.

“Trust me, I enjoy it.” He murmured softly, breath catching when she kissed under his jaw. He was being spoiled completely with kisses today and he didn’t know why, but he was enjoying them. He could sit for days and kiss her skin if that’s something Y/N was happy to let him do. “I’m g-gonna order the pizza.” He stuttered, not moving his head but picking up the phone to call. He was surprised when she didn’t stop. See, something about this aroused him for some reason and he wasn’t sure why, but his neck flushed with her kisses as he cleared his throat. “Hi- can I order two pizzas please?” His last word was a squeak when Y/N gently nibbled on his jaw. He wasn’t telling her to stop, he didn’t want to.

Y/N smirked against his skin, loving how committed he was to talking on the phone despite his reactions. She hummed, nipping again at the skin in hopes to leave a mark. She wondered if he would like that? Hopefully he didn’t mind, but she could understand that maybe his parents would feel weird about it. It was a type of bruise, it would take a while to go away. Once the pizzas were ordered Y/N pulled back from his jaw, smirking up at him.

“‘m sorry about that...” She hummed, licking over her lips. “Couldn’t help myself.” Y/N blushed and rested her head against his chest. Everything about their little hang out was so high school, but that was exactly what she wanted. A cute wholesome highschool romance. She could tell that he was a horny fucker, just as was she. If the kissing didn’t give it away then maybe the way she dressed or the way she was mentally undressing him would give him a clue. Y/N didn’t want him to think there was all she wanted him for though, so she didn’t front with that part of her. Instead choosing to love up on him.

“It’s- it’s okay. Was hard to talk though. I liked it. My head went numb.” He let himself laugh about it. Y/N truly didn’t have a clue about the effect she had on people. He wanted her to know that he was okay with her doing this stuff. He loved it, actually. It was rather tame then, once they relaxed and waited for the pizza. Only difference was Y/N did have a fun time kissing his neck or his chest over his shirt and he was wondering if she would enjoy the same type of affection. It was a learning curve. He sighed when the doorbell rang and had to untangle them from their lovely little love nest; at least that’s how he saw it. He was quick to run down the stairs and pay, bringing it back up to his room with two plates on top of the boxes for them to use if she wanted to.

Y/N was already sitting up in the bed, having pulled her T-shirt off because she was getting hot. She hoped that he didn’t mind, he probably wouldn’t. Her hair was now up in a messy bun to prepare for eating, her hands patting the space in front of her on the bed for him to place the boxes down on.

“I didn’t realize how hungry I am.” Y/N chuckled, “smells really good.” She mumbled and waited for him to join her before digging in. She made sure to be as careful as possible, not wanting to get anything on his fresh and clean sheets. Y/N felt extremely comfortable around Harry, probably more than she did with people she called her friends. Harry didn’t judge her, he liked her for who she was and continued to support every choice she made. She too hoped to do that for him, it’s exactly what he deserved.

“Where are your parents anyway?” She asked curiously, knowing it was a bit random but she wanted to know how often he was alone like this.

Again, she manages to knock him on his metaphorical ass when she tossed the shirt off and revealed a tiny, cute pj set underneath the tee shirt. It was showcasing her little tummy and her soft hips and thighs, not to mention the tits. Fuck, Harry wanted to bury his face between them so badly it aches. But he swallowed that thought when she was talking again, mentioning the pizza and then his parents.

“Oh— they’re both at different work things. My mum runs an upscale catering company. My dad owns a publishing company.” He said, sitting on the bed next to her. It was hard not to stare at her body but he made sure to focus the best he could in her pretty face. “They go away a lot because my sister is out of the house and I can take care of myself.” He told her. “It’s not bad though. I game a lot so I like, just come home and do my work, then play online.” He wasn’t sure how to tell her that he streamed and had thousands of people who watched. He made a decent amount of money in tips on there too.

“Oh that’s cool.” Y/N smiled, nodding her head. “You sure?” She knew she would probably get lonely if her parents were away all the time but then again, if she got alone time that would be amazing. “Guess it’s nice cause that means I can come over more.” Y/N hinted, hoping he wouldn’t mind. She had a feeling he wouldn’t. “My parents are relatively strict... they like knowing what I’m doing at all times, kinda told my mom I was at Lauren’s but... she won’t really call and ask.” Y/N explained, “I think they’d like you though... you’re a nice wholesome boy, aren’t anything like the others.” Her mother hated her ex boyfriends. None of them were allowed over and when she found out about them she got much stricter with her going out. Y/N was hoping that this would be a thing for a while. She could see herself really getting into it and honestly, if they chose the same college then they wouldn’t have to worry about breaking up. Maybe she was thinking too far ahead but, could you really blame her?

“Yeah? You can come over whenever you want. My house is open to you. I’m positive that if you’d like to meet her, my mum would love you. My dad is okay, he’s a bit aloof. But he would like you too. He’s just quiet.” He admitted. Well, Harry was quiet at school. During games and stuff, not so much. “I’ve never had a girl over before. So she’s gonna like... interrogate you and want you to cook with her or something if you’re here when she is.” He groaned. “She knows you though. Our parents are friendly, I think our mums go to that wine book club together.” He thought out loud. Well. Internally he was thinking about how good it was that their parents got along. It could be useful. Not to say he was jumping the gun, but in his mind, he absolutely was. “I... you’re not gonna get in trouble for being here though, right?” He said softly. “I don’t want you to not be allowed over.

“Think so?” Y/N smiled shyly at him, “your mom is really nice from what I remember. She used to bring those really good brownies to the bake sale in elementary school.” Y/N used to love them, would buy five at a time so she would have one for everyday of the school week. “Maybe she can teach me to make them.” She raised a brow, taking a sip of her drink. Y/N has no idea that their moms were friends but that would definitely come in handy. If their moms were friends then her mom already adored Harry, knowing that Anne had probably shown photos to her mom and bragged. They would be just fine. “Don’t worry baby, it’s okay.” Y/N cooed, “She won’t find out, and if she does, she can’t really stop me. I am almost 18.” She said and shrugged, “besides, you’re a nice boy and I’m only a few houses away... it could be worse.”

“Alright... good. I don’t want to get you into trouble. It would be awful if we couldn’t hang out.” She had hinted at coming Over again so he was going off of those cues. “It’s really cool how we live so close to one another. I’ve always thought about us being friends and stuff... I’m happy that you wanted to be friends too.” He smiled, taking a bite of his pizza. “S’even cooler that you’re into games and stuff. It sucks that you don’t show it out more because you’re friends would make fun of you. S’so shitty of them. Then again, you could be a trendsetter. However— you’re safe with me. Can like whatever you want.” He shrugged. He didn’t care if she did or didn’t like the stuff but he was so relieved she did. He wouldn’t annoy her when talking about it. “Niall... he was freaking out after you left because he was so confused why you kissed me. It was funny.”

“I know... I mean, I guess it was my little secret but then again if they found out I wouldn’t mind. It’s weird, I guess they just never cared enough to ask and I never cared enough to tell them. They’re shit friends anyway... won’t matter soon.” Y/N sighed, knowing she sort of landed herself in the shit with highschool friends. “I had friends online, still do. They’re much closer to me than any of the friends I made at school... besides you of course.” Y/N felt safe in the online gamer community, people accepted her and liked her and didn’t judge. “I wish I could do more for you though.. you and your friends don’t deserve to be treated the way people treat you guys.” It was sweet that Niall was so excited for his friend, Y/N of course blushed and shrugged. “I asked him where you were at lunch too and he seemed flustered... I don't know why he was acting like I wouldn’t know his name. I went to elementary school with him.”

“I guess.. I didn’t realize you’d remember me too. You’re just, you’re the nicest person that’s super popular and you stand up for guys like us. We aren’t the social norm I guess, and you’re always sweet. So he was surprised the same way I was.” He had to tell her that. “You know that everyone at school loves you, right? Like... everyone always says how nice and funny and pretty you are. I think that’s why I never thought I stood a chance of being your friend... even more so being able to kiss you. I’ve thought about it for a long time.” He slipped up and let her know he had been thinking about kissing her for a while. And he knew she would be curious.

“Shouldn’t put me up on a pedestal like that though, I’m just a person.” Y/N said softly, “I do appreciate it, like it’s really nice and all... but I’m just like you guys.” She shrugged, taking another bite of her pizza. She knew that she was well liked at school but she simply treated people the way she would want to be treated and she deserved ample attention and kindness so she gave the same. Y/N raised a brow when he admitted to thinking about kissing her for a while. “You had a crush on me?” She asked with a bashful smile, feeling herself get all giddy. It made her sad that he felt like he was out of her league. He certainly wasn’t. “Everyone stands a chance at being my friend, but you of course are a special case.” She let him squirm for a bit before continuing to talk. “I always thought you were really cute. I had a crush on you in elementary school, I always made sure that I personally picked a birthday present for you when I was little instead of having my mom go buy a gift.” Y/N admitted and sighed, “always liked you and thought you were nice.... but then life took over and we went separate ways and now here we are again.”

In elementary school, one year in particular, she had gotten him a power rangers lunch box. It was metal and inside had a thermos and a knife and fork. He used it every day until his mum got him a new one and he felt bad not using it. But it was his favorite thing ever.

“You... had a crush on me?” He couldn’t believe it. Truly, it was something otherworldly. “That’s... really ironic. Cause I think it’s been there since then. Wait, let me show you something.” He stood up and went towards his shelf, grabbing something before walking towards her. It was the lunch box. A bit battered from use but it was still nice, Harry holding it in his hands to show her. “This was my favorite. It was from 3rd grade, and you gave it to me on my birthday. I used it all the way until 5th grade because I was so happy you gave it just to me. I had my grandfather replace them hinges once because I used it every day.”

“Yeah I did. A fat crush too. But you know, I kept it a secret because liking boys was considered treason.” Y/N remembered how intense cooties were at their school. She knew that she probably should have said something in hindsight, but now it is what it is. She could make up for lost time. “Oh my god.” Y/N gasped as she took hold of the lunch box she remembered seeing and begging her mom to buy for Harry. “Really? You liked it that much?” She blushed, “I.... I remember telling my mom we needed to get this for you because I knew you really liked power rangers and I knew Niall had one and you didn’t so I got you the better one.” She remembered being that attentive even then. She never really lost that fondness that she had of him, it was something that was always there. “You were always so nice and you complimented my dresses so I wanted to be extra nice to you.”

“Yeah— I loved it mostly because it was from you. Of course I loved power rangers too but it’s... I dunno, it’s always been special to me.” He blushed slightly and took the pizza boxes out of the way to put them on his desk. Food had been good but he was looking to talk more now. “I dunno... my crush never went away, I guess? I mean, it wasn’t super intense all the time but you were always pretty and made me nervous. I was about to lose it when she partnered us together because it was the closest I’d been to you for ages.” Y/N had no clue but he was feeling good knowing she was excited to be partnered with him as well. “I know that stuff between us has been... really fast. But I just wanted to say that I’m happy that it is.” He had to be brave for her. Tell her how he felt even if he was nervous. “I’m still nervous to tell you things or if I’m being too much but you know... I like being around you a lot. I like when we kiss... I um, I really enjoyed last night.”

It warmed Y/N’s heart to know that she was the reason he kept that lunchbox for so long. She was happy to make him happy, always, but now it was even more sentimental. She felt like they were likely meant to be if that was the case. Their feelings were mutual. His may be more intense, but she was accelerating at an alarmingly quick pace.

“I do want you to tell me if anything is ever too much.” Y/N said honestly, laying down again in the bed and rubbing her stomach because she felt like she ate so damn much. She wanted him to come and cuddle again, laying her arm out so he could come and rest his head on her chest if he wanted to. “Cause I really do like what we do... I don’t think it’s too much, I wish we did more even if we could.” She blushed, “but all in its own time.” Y/N hoped he didn’t feel too intimidated by her. “This is all just as new for me as it is for you... I mean, I’ve done things, but not a lot of things... and of course I’ve never talked to anyone the way I talked to you last night..”

Harry Laid down beside her, feeling like he was in a dream. The best dream of his life and he never wanted to wake up from it. He was full of pizza and excitement and Y/N wanted to cuddle. It was incredibly crazy to him how quickly things have changed.

“You don’t make me uncomfortable. I like doing new things with you— I may get nervous cause that’s a given. I only worry about your boundaries and pushing them too far.” He needed to be transparent with her. “It’s cause I worry about you being disappointed in me or like... deciding you don’t wanna do this stuff anymore. Which would be okay, it’s your decision. It just would be sad I guess. I dunno, I’m overthinking a lot. I’m just happy right now and I haven’t been for a while.”

“Don't you have to worry about that you know? I know you still will, you can’t really help that, but what kind of a person would I be if I immediately expected you to be good at sex if you’ve never had it before? I’m not going to be great either, I’m sure..” Y/N began gently carding through his hair, letting out a small chuckle. “The point is that we are doing it together cause we like and trust each other, not because we have some expectations... it will be fun and amazing regardless because it’s you and me and not for any other reason, yeah?” She said softly, cupping his cheek in a gentle caress. “Only way you could ever get me to not wanna do stuff with you is if you say something mean or do something even when I tell you not to.... and I don’t see you doing that.” She wanted to do her best to soothe his anxieties, she herself was anxious but more so excited about it because she knew it wouldn’t be bad in her eyes. “I’m happy that you’re happy, Harry... I am too.” She said with a smile, “just want you to know that there’s no pressure, don’t have to over think even if your mind does it anyway...”

Harry, for the first time, initiates a kiss. It was instinct now, leaning forward and catching her mouth with his. A long, soft kiss that felt so good to him. His hand went to the side of her neck to caress it gently, letting himself kiss her again. It was learning for both of them. This time it was Harry who deepened the kiss, getting a taste of her mouth again. Y/N was so kind to him in every way but she liked to be extra kind when it came to kisses and meeting his tongue with hers. They hadn’t properly made out yet, but these kisses made him want to. He shifted slightly so he could angle his face better, letting out a happy noise when she ran her hand through his hair a bit. Every aspect of this felt incredible. The way his other hand fell to her bare waist and he could feel goosebumps rise on it... his touch had done that to her.

Y/N let out a small moan at the feeling of his lips on hers. For the first time, he had leaned in and kissed her and the butterflies properly erupted in her stomach. She had kissed him before and it had been great, but something about him wanting to kiss and his hand on her neck got her going. She continued to let her hands run through his hair, knowing that was something he liked, but of course she nearly forgot that she was practically shirtless. The feeling of his warm hands on her skin caused goosebumps to form, her body naturally moving closer to his because she wanted more of his touch.She could tell that their conversation had helped boost his confidence. It was nice to see him be a bit bolder and touch her how he wanted, she was melting under his touch and she was positive he could tell. One of her legs went to tangle with his, again aching to be closer while her unoccupied hand gripped at his shirt.

Harry felt more free than he ever had. Y/N was giving him confidence and making him beyond happy by kissing him back with just as much passion. Her hands held his shirt in what seemingly was a way to get closer to him. When her leg went over his, his hand slid down to hold her hip instead of the waist. His hands were quite big and she had a small waist and beautiful thicker hips, he loved being able to freely touch. Y/N seemed to like the hand on her hip, Harry tightening it when she let out a little noise in her throat. His thumb ran over the velvety fabric, right near her hip bone. One of these days he would have the confidence to slip his hand into them. He pulled apart for a moment to tell her something.

“This was all I wanted last night.” He sighed against her mouth. “I just really love doing this. Kissing. It’s amazing.” He hadn’t ever done it, and as much as Y/N loved the feeling of his hands on her bare skin, feeling him grip at her hips tightly sent her into quite the frenzy. He didn’t even know. Of course he was exploring and she was all for it, she would just have to make sure she was being vocal about what she liked, which was essentially everything.

“Yeah?” She hummed against his lips, feeling how hungry he was for more of that incredible feeling. “Sure you didn’t want more than this last night?” Y/N mumbled against his lips with a small smirk. His words of course had suggested otherwise. “You’re really good at this...” She told him honestly, feeling like his mouth was more than perfect. He’d mastered how to touch her and how to kiss her rather quickly. Y/N let her hand slip under his shirt, her hand moving up his back to gently scratch at the warm skin. She really just wanted to feel him. Her hips were properly hooked over his, but she wasn’t quite at the right angle if she wanted to feel any type of friction.

“I... maybe I did.” He said against her mouth. Something about her gave him confidence. He knew she wouldn’t laugh at him or make fun. She was enjoying this just as much as he was. “I wanted a lot of stuff, I think.” He shivered at her hands touching his bare skin. Fucks sake. She was getting bolder so he felt good with where this was going. He kind of wanted to pull her on top of him but didn’t know how to initiate that. “Can... can move anywhere you want, if it makes it easier.” He spoke softly, still chasing her mouth.

“Like what?” Y/N mumbled against his lips, taking his bottom lip between hers and tugging on it slightly just to see what reaction she’d get from him. She liked pushing the boundaries a little, knowing that if prompted he would deliver because he always did. It was then that she thought it would be best to give him that boost, to tell him that he could grab at her and pull her however he wanted her. “Put me where you want me.” She told him, knowing he was thinking the same thing she was. He wanted her in his lap and she wanted him to pull her into his lap.

From there they were golden, Y/N tugging at his shirt and asking him to pull it off. They hadn’t done this before, they’ve never gotten this far. She wanted to make sure he was comfortable with everything, ideally, she’d have his hands all over her while she ground down on him. Harry picked her up with ease to put her on his lap. It was intimidating a bit. Seeing all that beautiful woman in his lap, literally, but he was proud of himself for it. He had earned this. Earned her trust and affection. He felt nerves shoot through him when she tugged at his shirt but did it nonetheless. He wanted her to have what she wanted too. He was unsure what she would want to do from this point but he was on board with anything. His hands went to her thighs, gently feeling the warm skin against his hands as she pulled the shirt off of him and threw it to the ground. She wasn’t wearing much, and for that he was thankful. He got to see so much of her beautiful body.

Y/N loved that he was letting her do as she pleased, but also wanted more of his input. Hopefully, but by bit, she could inspire him to be more go with the flow. This was a natural thing after all, as long as he did what his body told him to do, she would love it.

“Fuck me...” She breathed out, pulling back so she could finally see his body for what it was. Y/N knew he had tattoos, she knew he had tattoos on his arms but this? She was practically creaming her shorts already. His body was also sculpted in a way she certainly didn’t expect but was very happy with. “You’re so hot.. Harry..” She breathed, hands traveling down his front before leaning down. Y/N couldn’t help herself, she really couldn’t. She simply leaned down and licked up from his stomach to his chest and neck, moaning against his skin as he gripped at her thighs a bit tighter. “Daddy..” She whimpered, remembering how well he’d responded to that last night.

His mouth physically dropped. Holy fucking shit. It was a lot different than just hearing it over the phone— no. Having the world's prettiest girl lick your torso and whine a sexy name at you, it worked him easily up.

“Oh, fuck sake.” He breathed, already knowing his cock was throbbing in his pants. Y/N was a tease but he knew she was thriving off of it. “God, you’re gonna kill me.” Last night had been amazing. She had been so vocal of her wants for him and now they were in bed, making those things happen. He knew she had laid in bed and played with herself, made herself cum, he could hear how wet she was over the phone. And now it was on top of him. “You’re so gorgeous. I... fuck, that feels good.” He whispered again when she licked over his neck. One hand cane to the back of her neck, steadily her as he felt the teeth nip at it and tongue come out to soothe it. Hearing him swear above her made her cunt throb, a pleased smile finding its way to her lips.

“But you sound so good for me...” She hummed, nipping and licking at the skin where she wanted to leave a mark. “Can I mark you up?” Y/N asked softly, “just a little... want everyone to know you’ve got me loving on you.” Y/N loved how responsive he was, wanting more and more reactions so her actions followed suit. She pulled back from his neck, staring at him all breathless. Y/N licked over her swollen lips and began leaning in again, this time her hips started to rock against his. She could already feel how hard he was for her. “Want you to tell me how you want it, yeah?” Y/N spoke as she licked into his mouth, her hands moving to put his on her hips so that he could rock her hips at the speed he wanted. “I’m already so wet, fuck..”

“Yeah— yeah, can mark me. Go ahead.” He breathed. She wanted people to know. That was one of the hottest things ever. Y/N wanted people to know she was the one leaving marks and giving him all this attention- that she was the only one who got his. It pleases him. “I... fuck, that feels even better.” He could die a happy man because she was moving her hips on his cock, grinding herself into him. It was a dream of his and now it was coming true. “Wish I could have had this last night instead of your pillow.” He breathed, her hands making his hands go up to grab her waist, helping her move. It was so arousing to know she was so in need of him too. It was for both of them. “I get hard whenever... whenever I think about what you were saying to me. You made me get so dirty with you.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smirk at how innocent he was suddenly being in the way he was talking, she remembered how dirty he had gotten with her last night. He was saying all kinds of things she wasn’t expecting from him in that deep sexy and raspy voice but he seemed to be acting a bit shy.

“Would have been so much better...” Y/N moaned, feeling herself get into a specific grove that hit the right spot. Her breath hitched and she let out a high pitched whine, moving her hips a bit faster to keep at it. It was still steady. “Love it when you talk dirty...” She whimpered, “‘so sexy.” Y/N nuzzled her face against his neck, her breathing picking up now that she was actively working her hips over his. “F-feels so good daddy...” She moaned, hoping to motivate him even more. He was shy, of course, but Y/N just wanted him to let loose. She wouldn’t judge him.

“Love when you call me that.” He admitted. Hearing it fall from her mouth was like heaven. He was feeling so good, lifting his hips up a bit to give her a better area to grind on. “Kept thinking about how wet you were... how I could hear it.” He whispered. Her face was in his neck, and his hands had a nice, tight grip on her hips. Helping her move her cunt up against him. It was tame for dirty talk but the more she was grinding, the more he felt his resolve melting away. “How does it feel?” He asked. “If you’re all wet... must be a little slippery in the panties.” He could only imagine how amazing it must feel to her too, if his own cock was throbbing against her. “It was so hot. Hearing you get like that. You make such pretty noises.”

Goosebumps prickled over her skin again as he whispered in her ear, feeling her stomach tighten even more. His voice was so raspy and low, it made her body shiver every time. He was so fucking powerful, if only he know what he was capable of.

“Feels so so good...” Y/N whimpered, “so wet...” It was then that Y/N felt like she needed to at least offer, that way she could make this better for both of them. “Wanna see?” She asked, wanting to pull off her damn shirt and maybe even her panties so she could grind her wet cunt down over his sweats. It would feel so fucking good. “Can make more noises for you, Daddy..” Y/N told him, her voice going all high and baby like. She knew how to play it up, especially because he liked anime and her tits were practically right in his face.

“Yeah— yeah, I want to see. I want to.” He was excited. In his 18 years of life he had never been more certain of anything in his life. He let her stop for a moment to pull her shorts down, audibly groaning when he could see the wetness string a bit to her cunt as the panties were pulled off. His cock ached and jumped in his pants, Harry being bold and taking the panties from her. “Go ahead. You can go back to that... I just want to see these.” He whispered, his hand going back to her waist as he brought them to his face. Maybe he was a dirty fuck for it, but he took a large inhale of it. They smelled so fucking good. His hips jumped up against her, Harry keeping them close to his face as he thumbed the wetness on the crotch part of them. “I swear to fuck I’ve never been more turned on in my life.” He whispered. Y/N was going to kill him. “My god... your cunt smells so good. It’s so wet, you’re soaked through these.” He couldn’t believe it, feeling the arousal overtake his normal braid when he licked the fabric.

“Ah— fuck!” She gasped, his hips bucking up to meet hers. He felt so warm beneath her, hard and warm just a thin and damp grey material away from being bare. It was her turn for her jaw to drop, watching as he sniffed and licked over her wet panties. He looked so turned on, practically ravenous. Her pussy developed its own pulse, aching to be touched and licked over. She whined, sounding much like a puppy who was begging for food. Y/N wanted him. Wanted him to lick at her pussy, wanted to see him between her thighs with that look in his eyes. “Daddy...” She whimpered, practically bouncing over his cock.

Harry made a split second decision. Seeing her so needy, seeing her whine and whimper for him had him needing a taste. The Panties weren’t enough. He wanted it right from the source. He grabbed her hips and pulled her up, lifting her to sit right above his face. He got to see the tiny pink cunt up close, growling nearly when he could see how wet she was. She was glistening for him. So he pulled her down, tongue stuck out and licking hungrily at her pussy. It was all instinct but he needed it and with the way Y/N went wild, she needed it too. Hands gripped his hair hard, and he didn’t care. “Fuck my face.” He looked up at her. Y/N deserved this. He wanted her to grind and move all over his mouth. She certainly wasn’t expecting this but she had never been so turned on in her life. Y/N was throbbing for him, completely soaked and ready beyond belief.

“Daddy! F-fuck—“ Her breath got stuck in her throat as he began licking into her hungrily, Y/N’s head fell back and she let out a throaty moan hands instantly going to his hair and the head board for stability. “Holy shit! Fuck!” She moaned, extenuating the u.

Fuck my face. Y/N lost it.

Her mind in a frenzy as her hips began to move before she could even process it, using his mouth for her personal pleasure. She loved grinding down against his cock but the feeling of his tongue sliding right over her clit was unmatched. Harry was like a man starved. He knew this moment on, he would be addicted to her pussy. Nothing else would do for him. Her taste, the way she went wild on him, he couldn’t want for anything else. He moaned loudly against her cunt, hands holding her hips and letting her use his tongue for her own pleasure. It was the amazing sweet taste and the way she smelled, the way she has also done everything to make him feel comfortable- he had to do this. He wanted to. His own personal needs had him begging.

“Fuckkkk.” He groaned out when she had her thighs shaking on either side of his head. While he hadn’t done it before, he’d watched plenty of porn. He knew that when she had moved over again, her clit right on his tongue, that he should suck on it. So he did. Firmly, he pulled her clit into his mouth over and over and he could feel her losing it. Her curses and her grabbing at his hair, shaking legs- he loved it. He’d be addicted to doing this, to making her cum.

“Oh— uh.. aH... fuck!” Y/N couldn’t keep her damn mouth shut. Continuous noises streamed from her, feeling like she should stuff a sock in her mouth just to stop. She couldn’t help it though, she’d never felt this good before. No one had ever eaten her out before, her whole body was twitching and shaking above him. Like a mad woman her hips snapped over his mouth, searching for an orgasm that was quickly approaching. His grabbing hands and groans from beneath her were sending her over the edge, and just when she thought things couldn’t get any better he started sucking on her clit. “DADDY!” She screamed, “ooooh, fuck! Ahh!” Y/N was a mess. Her eyes were rolling back, mouth wide open for him as various whimpers and whines tumbled out. Her legs began to shake at her approaching orgasm, her hands searching for his so she could hold them while she came. She’d never, felt like this before.

Harry could see her searching so he gave her a hand, letting them grip his tightly as he continued on. Surely he would learn more about eating pussy but he was thriving right now. Truly. He never felt better than this moment. He groaned against her pussy and let his tongue roll over her clit as he licked all over again, catching the delicious arousal fueled slick before catching her swollen clit again and sucking. This time harder than before, feeling her humping his mouth like crazy as she held his hand. He wanted her to cum harder than she ever had and have it because of him. Her arousal and his actions to take care of her as her man should be doing.

Y/N saw stars.

Her orgasm ripped through her body causing her stomach to contract and her legs to shake. She couldn’t believe that he had been so quick to catch on bed sex wasn’t really all that difficult if you were turned on. Y/N’s moans continued to fill the room, whimpers leaving her as she slowed down and felt his tongue still brushing over her sensitive clit. She hissed and pulled off, moving back down so that she could give him a kiss. A proper kiss, a long, passionate and hungry kiss. Y/N was positive that she had made the right decision, that he was the one that she wanted and that everyone else was wrong about him. Y/N pulled back from his lips breathless, pushing hair away from his face and caressing his cheek.

“That was so good...” She cooed, “thank you... fuck me...” She giggled and kissed him again, remembering he too was probably still rock hard. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll suck you off too..”

Harry hasn’t realized... how good that could be. How he could be addicted to pussy and her moans and the fact that even with it being his first time, he had successfully made her cum. Made her lose her mind on his tongue. He had done that, and it was a major ego boost. He responded eagerly again to her kisses, happy to feel her mouth against his. He didn’t want to stop. It was a high he was feeling now because of her. Y/N’s pleasure was a drug for him. He had his eyes wide open when she said she would suck him off, too. Would he really get his dick sucked tonight? By the girl of his dreams? He could have sworn he was in love.

“Fuck— you will?” He whispered, looking at her wide eyed. “What the fuck did I do to deserve you? I don’t understand.” He panted, going back to kiss her harder at that. Of course his cock was aching and throbbing in his pants.

“Yes, daddy... gonna have your big cock in my mouth and it’s gonna feel so good.” She giggled, purposefully being as seductive as she could because he deserved it. Harry deserved to be treated like a king, Y/N surely would end up worshiping his cock. It didn’t matter to her how long he lasted as long as he came hard against her tongue, she’d be happy. She moved down to press kisses down his neck, kissing down his chest and his stomach, slowly moving down to where his sweatpants were already sitting low on his waist. Her ass in the air as she bent over. “Ready?” She cooed, looking up at him with a smirk as she moved down to press kisses on him over his sweats. “I made a proper mess on you, hmm? Let me get these off.” Y/N began to pull them down, making sure she was taking in all of his cues. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

“God, yeah... ya did Y/N.” He whispered. He wasn’t going to stop her. He had been waiting for years for Y/N to touch him or even speak to him so this was a no brainer. She was kissing his cock through the fucking fabric. He could feel her hot breath and thought maybe he would die. “Not gonna last long but I just, fuck.” He hissed when his cock hit the cool air, followed up by a warm hand wrapping around it. No one else had ever touched him so it was a stark contrast to his own. Hers were small, soft, so warm. A bit slick, too, she had spit into her palm. “Oh fuck me... already feels good, baby.” He whispered, watching her stroke him slowly, right in front of her stunned face.

“That’s okay daddy, just want you to cum real good yeah? Down my throat, make me swallow it all.” Y/N smirked as she rubbed over his cock a few times. God he was huge. “Do you know just how big you are? Hmm? Had this hidden? No one even knows...” She practically moaned as she licked up from the base to the tip. He would never forget this. Y/N took him into her mouth with ease, maintaining eye contact and making sure she gave him a view as well as a good feeling. She sucked at his tip, making her focus on the part that was most sensitive and watched as he shuddered. He looked so good, mouth still slightly glistening from her cunt, hair disheveled and muscles contracted. “You’re so fucking hot..” Y/N moaned, licking at his balls a bit, “where do you like it? Hmm?” She asked, licking up anywhere she could before taking him back into her mouth and taking more of him than last time. Y/N would try and take him all the way down her throat if she could. He deserved it.

His hand came down and gently caressed her hair, stroking through it as she licked at him. Nothing was hotter. Nothing at all. He couldn’t even begin to wonder how he had been able to get this in his life but he had it and he was going to relish in every single moment.

“Oh fuck- oh, baby, all of it. I love it all.” He felt like he was going into overdrive. She was looking at him with wide, sultry eyes and took his cock deeper into her mouth, causing his head to fall back. “Oh my god. Yes, yes, yes.” He was sensitive as fuck. “Been aching, since last night. Kissed me and made me hard and then- fuck, then you texted me that fucking video, called me... I’ve been going crazy.” He hissed, hands in her hair tightening. “Been hot all fucking day for you. Even in my damn library spot, got me worked up with kisses. Your mouth feels so good on my cock, I can’t...” He groaned when she rubbed her tongue against the slit. Y/N loved how sensitive he was, moaning a bit against his cock as he tightened his grip on her hair. She pulled off for a moment with a pop.

“That’s so sexy, daddy... wanna make you cum so bad.” She moaned, licking a stripe up his shaft again, spitting on it and making a proper mess for him. “Cum for me...” She pleaded, moving her mouth over him again and properly going for it. Harry deserved a mind blowing orgasm, he had been thinking about it for a while and after hearing he’s had a crush on her for so long she wanted to make everything worth it. Y/N was working her ass off, putting on a show while also making sure he was getting the most quality blow job she’d given. She knew that men could always feel it when girls were enthusiastic, she wanted him to know she wanted and she wanted him back.

There was no way he could last. Of course, this was his first time getting any type of attention but then there was Y/N. The fact that she was something out of his wildest fantasies. She was wet and a little messy, the wet slick noises of him going deep in her mouth and her moans and obvious enjoyment of it all was what was sending him. Add on the fact that she slipped him in deep, he could feel her throat contract around him, he was gone for.

“Fuck, shit, I’m gonna cum.” He hissed. It was fast but how could it not be when Y/N was acting like this, and then when she pulled back and stuck out her tongue, spit still strung and connected his cock to her lips. It pushed him over the edge. Obviously, he felt himself weak when he got to see his cum covering her tongue, taking over and stroking hard and fast as he hissed. Watching the liquid coat her tongue, her moaning and making a big show of swallowing it all.

“I’m going to die. You’re going to kill me.”

Y/N was properly enjoying it too, smiling a bit once she had swallowed and licked up all of his cum.

“Mmm no don’t die, daddy, haven't even fucked me yet.” She pouted, moving back up to kiss him softly. She had tucked him back into his boxers and found her place on his lap all over again, pressing sweet and soft kisses against his lips. The two of them were sweaty and properly fucked out. Y/N couldn’t help but smile to herself, feeling really happy that she was able to share moments like this with Harry. “Was that good for you?” She asked softly, referencing their whole interaction. Her hand had reached up to stroke his hair back, smiling at his blushy cheeks. Harry was a dream to her. So sweet and soft yet so dominant in his own way. He was gentle but she knew once he got the hang of it and they became more comfortable she’d be done for. “Want to shower? Get all cleaned up? Feel bad, you got fresh sheets and all.”

“It was so good. Don’t worry about the sheets, I’ve got other sets.” He laughed incredulously. How could he give a single fuck about that when he had just eaten pussy and got his dick sucked? He was on a high. It only got better when he realized she was pulling him up to shower- she was coming with him. He didn’t want to say anything but she seemed happy to go into his bathroom with him, asking him how the shower worked as she stripped off her top. He cleared his throat and went to change it to hot, like how Y/N requested. So many firsts. He was going to shower with her. He was going to shower with Y/N and they’d touch and kiss probably and be cute and his stomach was full of butterflies. He turned around to throw his sweats into the hamper along with his tee shirt, less sweaty now as he relaxed and turned around to her. Now completely naked, Y/N was bare to him. Curves and messy hair and swollen lips, he didn’t think he had ever seen something so beautiful in his entire life.

Y/N giggled a little bit to herself as she watched Harry strip down completely. His bum was the cutest thing she’d ever seen in her whole life. She wanted nothing more than to squeeze it, give it little pats. She couldn’t help herself really. She was just smiling at it like a dork.

“You’ve got such a cute bum, baby.” She cooed, pulling her hair out of its bun. She set her scrunchie on his counter and turned her attention to him again, climbing into the shower once the water was hot enough. Y/N was thankful that it was relatively big, the two of them fit perfectly fine inside of it and even had extra room. Once they got under the water Y/N smiled, leaning up to kiss him just because she missed having his lips on her. “You’re so cute.” She hummed, pulling back and letting him reach down to get some of his shampoo. It was lime and coconut scented.

“I can’t lie... I’m a little nervous cause, you’re really the prettiest thing ever.” He said softly, lips buzzy after she kissed them it felt so good. Y/N was perfection in every single sense of the word. He was in a shower, naked, with the most gorgeous woman on the face of the world. “No, Y/N, I mean it.” She got a little shy and didn’t look right in his eyes as he massaged the shampoo into her hair, happy she was letting him do so. “You really are the most beautiful person. That was my immediate thought when I turned around... like, m’so lucky that you want to be with me like this at all. Letting me see you... like, fuck.” He whispered. “Almost doesn’t feel real in a way. I don’t know how to do this properly- whatever we’re going, I mean, but I like it a lot.” He took a deep sigh, taking a whole lot of effort to get past his mouth.

“What are you so nervous for?” She asked in a gentle voice, looking up at him as he shampooed her hair. “You’re perfectly adequate... dunno why you put me up so high, ‘s no goody baby.” Y/N told him, her arms moving to wrap around his waist. “I like you a whole lot..” She said softly, “like.. a whole whole lot.” Y/N didn’t know what else she could do to get it across to him that he was deserving of her. It made her sad to have to keep reminding him how great he was, she didn’t mind doing it... just just wanted him to be confident for his own sake. “You make me feel so special and I just wish I could do the same...” She said with a soft sigh, gently rubbing over his skin. “Like you a lot, Harry.. wouldn’t be doing any of this if I didn’t and I... I just want you to believe it.” Y/N wasn’t upset with either him or anything, but she couldn’t help but express her want. They’d just had such a lovely passionate and intimate moment, she wanted him to enjoy it and not be in his own head.

“You do. I, I feel so much more confident around you. It’s just hard to believe anyone would like me sometimes.” He whispered. Y/N didn’t get it completely yet but he was trying to fix it. Make it so they were both understanding and happy about it. “Like, I was bullied relentlessly yeah? I’m lucky I have supportive parents and solid friends but after years of it, it hurt me. So sometimes it’s hard to believe that good things happen when I was told so often I didn’t deserve them.” He stopped his movements for a second. “Already, you’ve helped me feel so happy. So much. I don’t feel like I should stop it anymore, you know? I like being happy and you make me feel like I deserve it.” He wasn’t sure if he was making sense. “I like you... more than a whole lot and the fact that my dream is coming true and you’re here with me is just... mind boggling. I was so confused at first. But I can see your friends don’t treat you the way you deserve either and I want to do that. I want you to feel like the most special and beautiful girl in the world, because you are.” He took the confidence now to lean down and kiss her nose and cheeks and then her wet lips. “I’m working on being more confident. It’s happening but... please, know I’m not ever doing anything when I’m nervous because of you. You make me happy.”

Y/N felt herself tear up a little bit at his sentiment. It really did break her heart to think that he’d been made to believe that he didn’t deserve to be happy and that’s why he was the way he was, but she would do everything in her power to help him get through it. She leaned up to kiss him again, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and getting up on her tiptoes and held him there.

“You do make me feel like the most beautiful and special girl in the world, you know?” She said softly, “I’m so lucky...” Y/N breathed out, “so so fucking lucky.” She whispered and pressed another kiss to his lips before going to wash his hair. It would take time, she knew that, but she found it hard at times because she wanted nothing more than for him to feel the way she did whenever she was around him.

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[part 3]

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COMMISSION: Joker/Akira/Ren x Reader Part 1

Thank you to the client for commissioning me! This is gonna be a long one! I love Joker and Persona 5 is my second favorite fandom after Danganronpa! Exctied to be working on this.

Around 2.6k words, SFW, SLOW BURN romance friends to lovers, gender neutral reader, anyone can enjoy it and place themselves as the reader! - Admin Myah

Shujin Academy could be silent as the grave in the earliest hours of the morning, and yet seem so deafening. It was almost guaranteed that at least thirty new rumors were spreading throughout the student body at any given time, and the overwhelmingly hostile environment that created made the air heavy. With all the teenage angst, hormones, hatred, circles of venomous malice, it was no wonder so many loners could be spotted on academy grounds. That’s just how it was at Shujin: you either had a clique, or you had no one. It was no surprise, then, that you simply kept your head down, minded your business, and got to know no one. Miraculously, though, gossip abound about you still, at least two or three preposterous examples of hearsay and stories. But hey, what could you do? That was in all actuality, pretty low for a single Shujin student. God help the students who actually did make their opinions known, express themselves through clothing and cosmetics, and dared to swim against the current.

You shuffled through the first floor, the absolute blandness of that April morning perpetuating your usual routine: arrive at Shujin, check your locker, scribble down any notes and ideas that came to you in your dreams last night to put into your next short story, and of course check for new posts in the group chat, where your only friends resided. You wouldn’t be caught dead associating with anyone here at the school, it would simply be mental and social suicide, and quite frankly, you didn’t have the constitution for that.

Peeking up for a split second to avoid any collisions, you quickly slid to the left and ducked into a nearby alcove, successfully escaping the gaze of the oncoming wall of muscle and testosterone that was Coach Kamoshida, the plague of Shujin Academy. It was the best case scenario that Kamoshida remained ignorant to one’s very existence, for even those on his good side suffered the consequences. He strode by, shoulders wide and chest puffed out, scanning the halls for girls to harass or boys to intimidate, and once the coast was clear and he was a safe distance away, his back facing you, you dipped back out of the rather dusty corridor and back into the light, immediately slipping back into an almost mechanical daily ritual. It took mere seconds: phone screen unlocked, group chat opened, notebook slipped snuggly back under armpit.

“C’mon, man!” An obnoxiously loud voice rang out above the typical tinnitus-like buzz of the hallway, and suddenly your shoulder was thrust forward, body flying to the ground with a forceful shove on the shoulder.

“Aaagh!” Your voice cracked as your knees buckled and you collided roughly with the wooden panels below, your smartphone soaring out of your grip and clinking against the floor. Thank goodness your notebook was safe, at the very least. People gasped and turned to look at the spectacle, including Kamoshida himself, who’d just reached the end of the hall.

“Sakamoto! I see you running in the halls again, I’ll write you up!” He just always had to say something, let the general student body know he was in charge. He cared far more about sounding rough and tough than making sure the student who was just steam-rolled was uninjured. He pointed directly at you and the student that had just dashed by, effectively pummeling you to the ground with a shoulder check. You looked up and just ahead of you, Ryuji Sakamoto was pivoting on one foot, ignoring Kamoshida’s threat entirely to catch his breath and look down at his victim, splayed across the floor.

Ryuji Sakamoto, now that was one of those students mentioned earlier, the kind that dyed his hair, customized his uniform, and didn’t take shit from anyone. He was a pariah, pretty much the opposite of the teacher’s pet… teacher’s pest more like. Sakamoto was the subject of many falsehoods and conjectures, and he was sure to be trouble for anyone associated…

You looked him up and down, halting your unflattering and socially-altered thoughts in their tracks. Didn’t wanna become the very thing you hated. There was no reason to judge Ryuji without first-hand proof.

“Woah! My bad, sorry dude!” He held up one hand submissively, but unfortunately, just as with Kamoshida, it seemed that you were not his main concern either. Huffing and puffing from the sprint, he looked past you to another male student who was hot on his trail, but this one looked… different.

You’d gone to Shujin Academy for all of your high-school career. It was your third and final year before graduation, and you knew of Sakamoto well enough, but this kid was a mystery… was he new here? He must’ve been. You knew at least the face of every student here in some way or another just through Shujin’s own little eternal game of telephone, and not by any choice of your own. You actively removed yourself from the local goings-on. Was it his first day here, you wondered. Why hadn’t you heard gossip about him yet, especially looking the way he did?

Beauty was a curse - much like any other feature that stood out - at Shujin Academy. If you were too pretty or handsome, you must be sexually promiscuous. On the other hand, if you were too ugly, too nerdy, too quiet, you probably picked your nose and read hentai on the train. There was no winning in this soul-crushing wasteland. Unfortunately for this new-comer, he was outrageously gorgeous.

“Gah, sorry about that…” he sighed, slowing his pace as he passed you by, plucking your phone up from the ground and offering you his hand. You took it and stood with his help. A quick tug and you were to your feet, dusting off your uniform and thanking him for his assistance. “Yeah, no problem… Ryuji’s just… a bit eager I suppose” he chuckled. “Luckily, no cracks!” He turned your phone around in his hand before placing it back into yours.

“Isn’t that the transfer student??? I heard he nearly killed a man!” One random NPC-esque shithead whispered from behind.

“Oh God, figures that freak would gravitate to the new freak…” another responded.

Ah… and there it was. Why did fate hate you so much that it chose you as Sakamoto’s door mat on this day? You truly must have been fortune’s fool.

“Yeah, good thing…” You eyed the boy before you, taking in what you could of the new student before the short exchange was over, from his face to the delicate yet thick veins protruding from his lithe hands.

He was tall and thin, and would even be considered lanky if not for the lean muscle that lined his frame. He seemed to be better off than the average teen, sporting almost no blemishes or imperfections on his smooth skin. A black, messy mop of hair that looked soft to the touch sat upon his head, falling into his eyes and over the dark frames of his distinct spectacles. These spectacles did nothing to hide the true elegance that gleamed in the eyes behind them. They were a muted, soft grey that was beautifully simple and clean. His uniform was neat and tidy - as opposed to his blonde and brash acquaintance’s - with his pristine white turtleneck gently blanketing a quite prominent Adam’s apple and his school jacket buttoned and ironed perfectly. Lower down, his plaid slacks concealed thighs that strained against the fabric and long legs that ran down into some very - yet again - flawless dress shoes. Yep, that was a brand new uniform, sure enough.

And a brand new student… he just might make a good subject, a new inspiration for your writing, an aura unmarred by the stain this place put on one’s soul. Your opinion of him was fresh, it was new, unaltered, unbiased, and he really was quite beautiful… your mind played with the thought.

“Ah… sorry about this,” he spoke, taking in the whispers all around you, “I probably just ruined your reputation, what with being seen with me an’ all,” he sighed and laughed breathily, a hint of exhaustion in his voice. He must’ve been keen to the ways of Shujin already, which was super sad in its own right. “I’m Akira by the way,” he held out a hand, and you shook it hesitantly.

“Eh, doesn’t really bother me. It’s (Y/N), nice to meet you. Sorry you’re feeling the Shujin warm welcome.” That first part was only partly true, but the last half was genuine.

“Anyway…” his voice shook you back out of your contemplative reverie, and you came back to reality to find him also looking you over. Oh right… you were new to him as well… “I gotta go, Ryuji is kind of impatient, I’ve found.”

“Hey! Am not!” Ryuji retorted, brows furrowing before he ran off. Akira’s eyes rolled playfully, before he smiled, waved, and sped off.

You nodded, and quickly pulled out your phone, rushing to the glass doors leading to the courtyard. Anything to get out of the spotlight and harsh crowd of stares, plus, you had a sparkling new idea filling up your cranium, and artistic inspiration could not be wasted. Finding one of the benches placed for student recreation, you set down your school bag and impatiently scrambled for your favorite pen, throwing open your notebook.

“Oh, shoot!” You’d gotten ahead of yourself in all the excitement. Placing the moleskin down, you picked up your phone, hands trembling just a bit, and messaged you friends before anything else. They just had to hear about this.

＊

(Y/N) 9:55 am: Guys guys guys!!!

Itsuki 9:56 am: What do you want?

Rin 9:56 am: ???

Megumi 9:57 am: Shouldn’t you be in class?

(Y/N) 9:57 am: Shut up I have a free period just listen

You know how I’ve been having writer’s block?

Rin 9:58 am: Ya

(Y/N) 9:58 am: Well I just met this new kid, and ideas just started FLOWING.

Itsuki 9:59 am: Yeah

Megumi 9:59 am: Yeah we remember nerd

Oh that’s great!

Wait what do you mean?

New kid?

Only we can have you 😭 Don’ go switching up on us. Shujin is

toxic anyway.

(Y/N) 10:01 am: No no no It’s not like we’re friends, I just met him is all

You know you’re my one and only bby 😘

Itsuki 10:01 am: New kid???

Megumi 10:01 am: 😎

Itsuki 10:02 am: Gross

Also what about me!!!!

Rin 10:02 am: Me too 😡😡😡

(Y/N) 10:03 am: You two know you’re included in that???? 🤔🙄

Anyway just listen

I think he may be good inspo for my main character!!!

I was stuck looking for a unique look or face claim or something

But he seems nice enough and he’s good looking!

Itsuki 10:05 am: You got a crush? Awww I’m telling 😏😏😏😏

(Y/N) 10:05 am: I swear it’s like we haven’t been friends for years…

You know me, PLEASE don’t be gross

Writing purposes ONLY

Megumi 10:06 am: I thought you were stuck on the CONTENT, not characters and shit

(Y/N) 10:06 am: Both!!!! But he’s perfect for the look of my protag

Itsuki 10:06 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Megumi 10:07 am: Well I’m happy for you

STOP

Itsuki 10:07 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Rin 10:07 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

(Y/N) 10:08 am: I can see this conversation isn’t going to be productive

LMAO you’re assholes

＊

You tucked your phone into your pocket and once again picked up your notebook. Scrawling down some of the details you knew about Akria: his looks, the sound of his voice, the way he carried himself, you quickly became aware that you knew far too little… or rather

You wanted to know more.

Standing, you packed your things and set out to find him again…

Not in the creepy way! You thought to yourself, trying to justify this uncharacteristic choice of yours to actually reach out to someone in real life, to maybe… try to make… friends? You stood there, brows furrowed and a small frown on your face, pondering your options.

“Oh well, all artists must suffer for their work!” You resolved a little too promptly to try to force another encounter with the new kid. He seemed to be special, unique. He seemed to be well aware of the social hierarchy of Shujin, and have a distaste of it at least. Maybe he wouldn’t be… so bad?

Making up your mind, you spent your free period not writing of romance and rebellious characters, but searching for that fluffy-headed newfound hero to your story, however ghoulish and greasy that made you appear. You truly were becoming that “reads-hentai-on-the-train” and stalks cute boys freak your peers thought people like you were, weren’t you?

To your surprise (though maybe it shouldn’t have been surprising with the volume of Sakamoto’s voice) you soon found the gaggle of second-years, model-status beauty Ann Takamaki now added to their number, standing next to the stairs on the third floor, looking quite conspicuous to boot. Noting the suspicious air around the three, you pulled back, hiding behind the corner leading down the next hall. They seemed on edge... maybe now wasn’t the best time to make friends…?

You felt something thump in your chest. Your shoulders sank subconsciously. It felt a little disappointing, disheartening in a way you couldn’t explain. It was a bit intimidating: Ryuji the loudmouth with a temper, the hottest girl in the school, and the cute new kid. You sighed, this was why you never tried to make friends in the first place. Why had you even gotten your hopes up?

These irrational feelings of self-doubt clouded your heart, your head knowing better of course. It was hard to fight thoughts like these, especially for someone like you. On the precipice of making up your mind, deciding to give up and scrap the new novel idea altogether, you were jolted to attention by the sound of shoes scuffling and scrambling up the stairs.

Students aren’t really allowed on the rooftop during school hours unless accompanied by a teacher or given express permission, your thoughts swarmed. Maybe they didn’t know? No, there’s no way. There’s a possibility Akira didn’t know, but Ann and Ryuji had been here for two years... What were they up to?

Your nosiness was regrettably getting the better of you, and you slithered over, careful to pad your steps and tread softly. You didn’t even know what you’d do once you’d cornered the trio on the roof, didn’t know what you’d say. What was there to say? You were never too good with words, that is those not written on paper. Your heart beating out of your chest, you climbed the narrow stairwell and threw open the doors to the roof.

“Huh?” You looked around, dumbfounded. “Hello?” The rooftop area was not that large, all parts of it visible from the door.

There was no one to be found.

“What the hell?” You step forward, thinking you must have been the subject of some prank, but no, upon looking around, all three students were gone without a trace. No school bags, no lunch boxes, no uniform pieces, nothing. Akira, Ryuji, and Ann, all vanished into thin air. There were no hiding spots, none big enough for three people at least. It was dead silent, and only the door you currently guarded provided an exit off of the roof. Your mind wanted to wander to darker places, but if they’d have jumped, there surely would’ve been a commotion either during or shortly after. Frantically, you looked around, feeling like you were going crazy.

“What the fuck?” You pressed the palm of one hand to your forehead, sitting on the ground and crossing your legs.

148 notes · View notes

gay-otlc · 3 years

Text

Little Miss Perfect

Summary: Straight hair, straight A's, straight forward, straight girl

Straight hair is most beautiful. Straight A's are most successful. Straight forward is fastest. Straight girls are the most perfect. And if straight girls are the most perfect, and Biana is the most perfect, ae has to be straight. Ae doesn't get a choice.

Little miss perfect, that's me

Content warnings: Internalized homophobia, homophobia in general, cursing, mentions of abuse, mentions of eating disorders, lmk if I should add more.

Word count: 3143

(Read on AO3)

Straight hair, straight A's, straightforward Straight path, I don't cut corners

Biana Amberly Vacker is beautiful, and smart, but that's hardly a surprise. Even before ae was born, everyone knew ae would be beautiful, and smart. Ae's a Vacker, after all. Ae wakes up early to straighten aer hair and stays up late to study, so ae's tired all the time, but ae's gorgeous and ae's at the top of aer class, so does it really matter?

Ae takes life one day at a time, one step after another, because if ae slows down or turns around, everything ae's running away from might catch up with aer.

So ae doesn't do that. Biana keeps following the straight path and hopes the road ahead of aer doesn't wind too much. Make sure every step leads aer to perfection.

I make a point to be on time Head of the student council

Not only that, but Biana's on time for everything. Aer parents make sure of that, but ae probably would be even without their help- Biana likes to plan ahead. Or really, ae doesn't know for sure whether ae likes it, or if it makes ae feel trapped. But at least it saves aer the confusion and terror of an uncertain life. Whatever the reason, ae makes little notes in aer planner for all aer appointments.

And bigger notes in aer journal for the rest of aer life.

Make it through Foxfire.

Manifest an ability.

Get a respectable job.

Marry a respectable boy.

Have children.

Step four... doesn't seem so great, by which ae means downright nauseating, but that doesn't matter. What ae wants doesn't matter. And anyway, this will probably be what ae wants in the long run. Ae's just not old enough for boys yet. Plenty of time for that in the future.

Ae'll be on time for every step of aer perfect fucking life.

I don't black out at parties I jam to Paul McCartney

Biana doesn't break rules- mostly because ae's afraid of how aer father would punish aer. Either way, ae's never snuck out at night, never spent time with the classmates he said were beneath aer, never wore something he said showed too much skin, never ate more than ae was allowed to. Every single one of his rules, ae followed.

If that meant not going to Marella Redek's party because her mother was too "strange," even though everyone else was talking about how fun it would be, ae wouldn't go. Ae would just miss out. Fun.

Ae heard that at the parties, they played human music. What would that even sound like? Fitz knew- he got to go to the human world all the time, but Biana didn't. Still, after incessant begging, aer dad let aer listen to one song, by a human named Paul McCartney. It wasn't bad. Quite good, in comparison to elvin music. Still... ae wished ae could listen to more.

Of course, ae wouldn't. That would be disobeying aer dad. And ae didn't do that. She always had to be the perfect daughtaer.

If you ask me how I'm doing I'll say... Well, hmm

Lying wasn't good, of course. Ae shouldn't lie to people who asked how ae was doing.

But ae couldn't admit to being anything less than perfect.

So ae'd just mumble.

Perfect until proven otherwise.

I was adopted when I was two My parents spoiled me rotten

Okay, so Biana isn't actually adopted- but for years, ae thought ae had been. Always out of place in the perfect Vacker family, because everything comes so effortlessly to them, they're exactly what elvin society wants without any struggle at all. And ae... wasn't like that. Too loud, too argumentative, not quite ladylike enough. Not smart enough, ae needed to work harder. Not pretty enough.

Not interested in the right people.

But when ae learned to stay quiet, keep aer head down, and follow all the damn rules, aer parents seemed to like aer better. Well, Alden did. Della always appreciated aer, however quietly, slipping aer little pieces of mallowmelt behind Alden's back even when he told aer that ae had to be thinner. Whispering compliments into aer ears after Alden scolded aer so much his voice was hoarse from screaming and aers was hoarse from crying.

And when Alden was proud of aer, she would get everything ae wanted. All the pretty dresses. All the sparkles and sketchbooks and sewing kits. Trips to Atlantis or Eternalia. Anything ae wanted, to reward her for being Little Miss Perfect.

Often I ask myself, "What did I do?" To get as far as I've gotten

Some of the time- who the hell is ae kidding, it's most, if not all, of the time- Biana feels like... ae doesn't deserve aer last name, or aer popularity, or any of aer privileges in life. Mentors at Foxfire practically revere aer and aer peers bend over backwards to be liked by aer.

Ae is so fucking sick of it.

Why aer? Ae wants to scream the question at every single person who treats aer differently. Why is ae the one to get that treatment? Ae had never done anything important in aer whole fucking life, ae didn't do anything, and all this praise should go to someone far more perfect than aer.

A pretty girl walks by my locker My heart gives a flutter

Biana is, unfortunately, very well known at Foxfire, and ae thought ae knew everyone else too. But ae's never seen this girl before, because ae would know if they had. It would be impossible for past Biana to have seen this girl and not remember her.

She has dark skin, even darker than Biana's, and long dreadlocks pulled into a knot and streaked with blue. Biana thought ae was used to the beauty of elvin girls- they were all quite pretty- but this girl, holy shit, ae was not prepared to see this girl. Her flat nose and full pink lips and turquoise eyes are all so beautiful. Biana's heart pounds and flutters around her chest like it wants to fly out and meet this girl, and aer breath catches.

Maruca Chebota, as ae later learns, is perfection.

But I don't dare utter a word 'Cause that would be absurd behaviour For little miss perfect

The pretty girl continues walking, seemingly unaware that she's thrown Biana's world wobbling out of orbit. Biana wants to call out to her, to yell, to make sure she doesn't walk away and make it so that amazing high, those butterflies and awe and something ae can't even describe, seems almost like it never happened.

But there are a lot of people in the hallways, and they're already staring at aer far more intensely than what ae would describe as comfortable, ready to judge each and every thing she does. Running to catch up with a girl because she's pretty? Not normal. Not normal for any elf, but especially not aer.

Biana silently watches her turn around a corner into a different hallway and out of aer line of sight, wishing ae could have been a little less perfect. Just for one second.

Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na No, I can't risk falling off my throne

Dear Maruca,

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've been avoiding you lately. I'm sorry I can't talk to you. You haven't done anything wrong, I promise.

It's just... you're dangerous. To my heart, my... my reputation. My throne.

That's not quite true. You're not dangerous to most people. You're just dangerous to me. Maybe you're fine, and I'm just too fragile. Too imperfect.

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la Love is something I don't even know

Dear Maruca,

What if we did love each other? Bravely. Boldly. Unapologetically.

What if I pretended it wouldn't topple me off my throne; or pretended I didn't care?

No. That's stupid. I shouldn't sacrifice all that for love.

This isn't even love, anyway. I don't know what love is, but you aren't it.

Straight hair, straight A's, straightforward Straight girl

Straight hair is most beautiful.

Straight A's are most successful.

Straight forward is fastest.

Straight girls are the most perfect.

Little miss perfect That's me

And if straight girls are the most perfect, and Biana is the most perfect, ae has to be straight.

Ae doesn't get a choice.

One night my friend stayed over We laughed, and drank and ordered

And straight girls would like Maruca, sure, but not in the way Biana does. Not in that all consuming, heart wrenching, feels like ae's floating and falling and spiraling all at once way. Just in a... a friend way. A normal way. Because the two of them would make perfect friends, and anything other than that would end in fiery disaster.

So Biana makes friends with Maruca. Friends. They talk about their Universe class, and play splotching together in PE (Maruca wins; Biana gets distracted by her braids), and horribly bake mallowmelt together. It burns.

Maruca is... fun. It's fun to be friends with Maruca. Ae invites her over to Everglen for a sleepover- Della is overjoyed that Biana is finally making friends- and they have a fun time. Playing games and talking about useless shit and going to go bother Fitz and his friend Keefe.

It doesn't need to be anything different, Biana tells aerself, again and again. It's perfect like this. It doesn't need to change.

Something about her drew me in What? It's totally platonic

Biana can't stop staring at Maruca.

She feels like gravity, a star, and ae feels like a planet. They work perfectly together, orbiting around and around and around. If Maruca smiles, Biana's mind races to solve the mystery of how exactly that smile would taste on aer lips. It tastes good, ae thinks, though that's a stupid thought.

"What are you thinking about?" Maruca asks. "You have this goofy smile on your face, and you didn't hear the story I just told."

Biana turns bright red. Of course, ae can't say I was thinking about your lips on mine, because that would sound... weird. Ae has to keep it platonic, because they'll never be anything other than platonic, and it's not like ae wants that either. Ae swallows, and finally says "You. I'm really glad we're friends."

Platonic friends. Perfect, platonic friends.

That night was so exciting Her smirks were so enticing

"Yeah, I'm an awesome friend," Maruca says, flicking one of her intricate braids. Biana's eyes linger on it a little too long.

Ae clears aer throat and quickly deflects the conversation, still blushing. "You are. Do you want to go downstairs? It smells like something's baking."

"I would be honored to go eat some of your mom's amazing desserts, m'laedy," says Maruca, extending a hand with mock formality. Her gorgeous lips are pulled into a smirk. Biana's breath catches; ae wants to freeze this mental image for eternity. Cautiously, ae takes Maruca's hand in aers.

Skin touching. Holding hands.

It's stupid, it's a cliche, but it does feel like sparks shoot across aer skin as Maruca wraps her fingers in Biana's and starts walking downstairs. Aer stomach flips around excitedly.

Then ae crashes and burns. They are friends. Both girls. Friends don't get this excited about holding other friends' hands. Biana rips aer hand away and stuffs it in aer pocket. Maruca looks a bit offended, but Biana clenches aer jaw and looks down.

It hurts, but ae has to be perfect. No exceptions.

Hours speed by like seconds Then, what happens is iconic

Once they get over the awkwardness of that moment, they slip right back into the fun they were having before. Della's ripplefluffs disappear quickly, and the two of them go back into Biana's room to keep talking. Biana shows Maruca aer sketches- ae hasn't really shown them to anyone before, Alden thinks a Vacker should have a more noble profession than designing fashion- and Maruca tells Biana that ae should dye aer hair.

Alden is going to kill aer, but for once, ae isn't thinking of that. Della would probably say yes, but the two of them decide it would be more fun to sneak out, so they light leap to Slurps And Burps as quietly as they can, in silent giggles the whole time. Maruca decides to re-dye the blue streaks in her hair, and Biana opts for violet. They go back to Biana's room and laugh more. Biana wildly thinks this is the most fun ae's ever had.

It's perfect, even if ae isn't.

She takes a sip, I bite my lip She tells a joke, I nearly choke

Aer stomach is sore from laughing, and ae still can't stop looking at Maruca. She's so pretty, something ae could stare at forever if ae had the chance. The longer ae looks, the more ae notices little details, like the way her braids fall against her shoulders, and how she has barely visible freckles splattered across her nose, and how her hand brushes against Biana's every so often. It's warm, and smooth, and perfect.

Maruca is a masterpiece of a person.

Currently, Biana's fascination lies in how her lips curl around the straw of her lushberry juice. It’s disgusting and wrong and so thrilling as Biana imagines kissing those lips.

No. Stop thinking about that, Biana commands aerself, biting aer own lip to draw aer attention away.

"Biana? Bi? You listening?"

Ae turns red. "Yeah, sorry!"

"Alright, so I was reading about cowboys, except I read it as cowgoys because it was really late, which implies the existence of Jewish cows. So then the thought 'Bar Moo-tzvah' came into my head and I can't stop thinking about it."

Biana snorts; the joke is funny enough on its own, but the cute little smile on Maruca's face and the way her eyes light up nearly make aer choke.

“Shut the fuck up, brain, let me be the perfect Vacker,” ae muters, too quietly for Maruca to hear.

She braids my hair, I sit there Blacking out for the first time

Maruca says Biana's newly violet hair looks beautiful- ae needs to fake a coughing fit to keep from squealing- and asks to braid it. Biana nods, and lets aerself get lost in the feeling of fingers weaving through aer hair and brushing against aer head.

Aer eyes close- ae doesn't know when, but the room around aer disappears and all ae can feel is fingers and this all encompassing, overwhelming love ae seems to be drowning in, blacking out everything else.

Next thing I know, I lose control I finally kiss her but oh no

Without making any conscious decision, Biana spins around, cups Maruca's face, and gently presses aer lips against hers. Their flat noses touch, eyelashes flutter against each other's cheeks, lips kissing. Kissing. It's fast, and sweet, and wonderful. Biana feels aer world aligning perfectly, like this is the way everything was meant to be, and there are fireworks shooting across aer skies.

Biana smiles against Maruca's lips.

I see a face in my window Then my brain starts to go

Everything happens at once.

Maruca yelps and pushes aer back. The door swings open, revealing a shocked Fitz. Fireworks vanish, as quickly as they came.

Biana's world shatters.

Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na No, you can't risk falling off your throne

Dear Maruca,

That kiss was amazing.

But it's too risky to do again.

I'm sorry.

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la Love is something you don't even know

Dear Maruca,

What do I know about kissing? It's not like I have anything to compare it too, besides that one time I kissed Keefe on the cheek because I thought I was supposed to. No, because I wanted to. Because I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to kiss him and I didn't want to kiss you.

I don't know what kissing is supposed to feel like. Or what love is supposed to feel like.

It'll be better with a boy. It has to be better with a boy.

I'll know love eventually, and it won't be with you.

You shouldn't love me either.

Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na You can't risk falling off your throne

Dear Maruca,

I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you-

No.

I hate myself.

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la Love You don't even know

Dear Maruca,

Or maybe I love you.

I don't know.

I probably don't.

Because I can't love another girl, right? I have to be misunderstanding what love means if I think I can love a girl.

I don't know love. But it can't be you.

Rewind, induce amnesia Deny the truth, that's easier

Fitz tells her what to do- pretend like it never happened. That's what Alden told him when he kissed Keefe. Biana snorts humorlessly at that; two fucked up Vacker children. But ae follows his advice. Forget about it. Pretend it never happened. Never address it with Maruca; or speak to her again, really. Pretend, pretend, pretend.

Ae's been pretending aer whole life.

Life continues on, and ae pretends to be okay. Maruca makes friends with Stina, and Biana makes friends with the new girl. Sophie Foster. Sophie is nice enough, but she's not Maruca. She can't replace Maruca. No one can fucking replace Maruca, and no one should have to- ae just fucked up aer only chance with someone that wonderful. But ae pretends Sophie is enough, pretends ae's not heartbroken.

Pretends, pretends, pretends.

Pretends to be perfect.

You're just confused, believe her When she says there's nothing there

Biana talks to Maruca once.

They both apologize in the same breath.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what happened-"

"That was weird, I'm sorry-"

"I don't like you, I was just confused."

"So was I, kissing girls was just something I thought I'd try, a bit of a phase."

"No, totally, it's not like I really like girls or anything."

"Nah, that'd be weird."

They never speak again. There's nothing between them. Biana tries to believe what Maruca told aer. Ae doesn't.

“You're just confused,” ae repeats to aerself. “You're still perfect.”

It's never worth it When you're little miss perfect

Dear Maruca,

Maybe someone else can love you. Someone who doesn't have to be little miss perfect.

#shai's writing #shai types things #kotlc #biana vacker #bianuca #fuck alden #little miss perfect

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