#i saw him and immediately was like ITS THE FUCKIN PROFESSOR!!!!!!!!!!
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Oh my god i love him. He's just chillin and vibin while roastin a marshmallow
#HES SO CUTE I LOVE HIM#i saw him and immediately was like ITS THE FUCKIN PROFESSOR!!!!!!!!!!#if this was ona those tiny vinyl figs i would 100000000% buy it#I MEAN LOOK AT HIMMMM HES SO FUCKIN CUTE#i can not remember who makes these cool ass intros for em i know theyve shouted them before so shoutout to them for this lovely easter egg#i also love how he looks like a muppet. genuinely fuckin love that#the professor#puppet history#ghost files#watcher#not hockey
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HARRY POTTER RANDOMNESS EPISODE 5
Draco : EVERYONE BACK IN THE CAR WE GOTTA GET BACK TO HOGWARTS WE HAVE LESSONS TOMORROW!
Blaise: *gets in the car*
Harry : Drive bitch!
Blaise : *starts going 300 mph towards Hogwarts*
Draco: *smiles while looking at Harry*
Luna : Ewww Gin help they're being sappy!
Pansy: Leave them be Luna
Ginny : Draco, how many fingers am I holding up? *holds up 4 fingers*
Draco : 8 fingers. When did you get 10??
Pansy: Is he drunk?
Theo : He's either really fucking tired or he's high off tattoo ink
Draco: Shhh I'm busy admiring the outside
Neville : Draco, that's Harry, not outside. outside is right there, not there
Draco: OML SAME DIFFERENCE
Blaise : We're back mfs!
Pansy: Hes tired for sure
Molly Weasley : WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?? *stomping angrily towards the car*
Draco: At um
Draco: Somewhere
Ginny : She can see every new piercing, Ron mum looks pissed, we should get back in and start driving. all of us. now. get in go go go!
Blaise : *Starts the car up and starts going 700 mph somehow*
Draco: *opens car door*
Pansy : DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY GET YOUR ARSE BACK IN I AM STRAPPING YOU DOWN RIGHT NOW
Draco: *falls asleep*
Blaise : I'm driving so fast we're flying, we're gonna land on the Astronomy Tower, I'm gonna shrink the car and we are going to RUN to the room of requirement!
Draco: *asleep*
Blaise : JUST LEAVE HIM HE CAN LIVE! REDUCIO! RUN!!
Draco: *wakes up* Oh
Pansy : SORRY YOU'RE SO TINY! YOU WERE ASLEEP AND WE ARE BOOKING IT RIGHT NOW
Molly: RONALD AND GINNY WEASLEY GET YOUR ASSES OUT HERE
Ron : THERE'S THE DOOR COME ON!!
Draco: can someone make me my normal size
Ginny : WHEN WE GET IN THE ROOM
Blaise : *just shut the door behind all of them* Okay, we're safe! Here, Engorgio!
Lucius and Severus: Oh- FUCK sake 😨
Pansy : *immediately follows the sound, covers her eyes and gasps* HOLY SHIT, PROFESSOR???
Lucius: Its not what it looks like-
Pansy : Well what is it then?? *still covering eyes*
Severus: Uh- We were trying on suits-
Luna : You're fucking stuttering!
Severus: Am NoT!
Harry : You sounded a little too confused to be telling the truth honestly, professor
Lucius: WHY ARE YOU EVEN IN HERE!!
Ron and Ginny : Escaping our angry mum
Lucius: THERE ARE SO MANY OTHER ROOMS AND YOU CHOOSE THE ROR
Draco : Also, that wasn't the fuckin question!
Severus: *clears throat* Then what was the question
Hermione : The fuck were you both doing that was bad enough for PANSY OF ALL PEOPLE TO COVER HER EYES AND GASP
Severus: Trying um on suits..
Lucius: We were cuddling and um eating Chinese food also..
Draco : disgusting, get out we're waiting on shit to cool down out there before we die
Lucius: Yeah no seriously we are more scared of Molly than you guys..
Pansy : But you won't get in trouble. Out!
Lucius: *turns light on holding a bowl of teriyaki noodles* We took her left over food.
Ron : Oh shit- well, she's more mad at US now, so just, out please
Severus: No thanks, she'll end up beating all of us to death somehow...
Pansy : Just- out! You'll live, she's definitely forgotten about you!
Severus: I'm about to give you all detention if you keep telling us to get out.
Harry : 😐
Lucius: Why's she mad at y'all anyway?
Draco : Uh- *lifts up sleeve*
Blaise : We hijacked a car, burnt down an entire muggle town in America, got a crap ton of tattoos and we got piercings!
Lucius: *takes a deep breath in*
Lucius: Okay Draco when I said you could do dumb shit, I DIDN'T MEAN BURN DOWN HOUSES
Pansy : Yeah it was fun. And after what I just saw, I wanna kms so come on! let's hand ourselves over to Molly!
Everyone Else(minus Sniv and Lucius) : All for it, let's go
Lucius: We were eating Chinese food- and hugging- WDYMMMM
Pansy : YOU WERE HALF NAKED NOW BYE!
Molly : About time. Care to explain why I got a frantic letter from McGonagall about you lot running off?
Draco: Not my fault blame Harry they dragged me into this
Harry : Hey! Prude!
Molly : Harry James Potter, Ronald Billius Weasley, Ginerva Molly Weasley and Hermione Jean Granger, you ought to know better!
Draco: So you aren't mad at my father for taking your food-?
Molly : Of course I am! Where is he?
Draco: Room of Requirement
Molly : We will talk about this when you get back this summer! *Walks into the room of requirement*
Pansy : Welp, they're dead. Let's go!
Lucius: *eyes widen* WE BETTER RUN
Pansy : *starts dying of laughter as Sniv and Lucius start streaking across the corridor followed closely by Molly*
Lucius: CAN WE HAVE SOME PEACE PLEASE MOLLY
*Narrator's voice* WILL THEY LIVE TO SEE ANOTHER DAY?? HOW WILL THE MAIN 8 GET THROUGH TOMORROW?? FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON HARRY POTTER RANDOMNESS!!
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white whale 🍎
my christening of writing a robert englund character has happened, and it’s not for who you’d anticipate it to be...
honest to god, this was my real introduction to him (but i’ve seen his other work, of course, so stay tuned lol) and i have been playing with an idea with him for a hot second...
but that little idea spiraled into a two-part thing. once again, i am being a dream job-influenced menace and i don’t plan to shut up about it any time soon.
(p.s. i will admit it was hard not to focus on leslie, and i failed pretty hard with this opening lmao-)
SFW | Word Count: 1,765 | Doc Halloran x GN Reader
contains reader busts their ass (not in a sexy way), slight stalking/paranoia mentions
🎼: x
➡ continued in holy grail
The things you did for a good shot.
On the side of a steep hill, you were only semi-sure that the rock under your feet would stay embedded in the earth long enough for you to stand on it. Rather, crouch like your back had the sort of stamina to hold a pose of this precision. A lone owl sounded off somewhere, catching your attention as you dared stick your tripod on another flat surface below the rock, haphazard in your form as you turned the camera on.
Field work was a requirement for this autumn’s multimedia class, which meant they wanted plenty of practice obtaining “B-Roll”, filler images to use while the meat of an audio track played in a final cut. The professor had even said, “Never such thing as too much,” so here you were. It was well past 10PM and you were sitting like a goddamn gargoyle trying to get a high enough angle to view the tree line. You started spinning the lens slowly, getting a healthy amount of focus to the nearly full moon.
From your bottom peripheral, your eyes shot down to see someone wading through the forest. He was near silent, so you felt fortunate to have better luck with your eyes in the moment, silently observing with your neck craning from behind the camera. It was definitely a man, you deduced, even though his gait was akin to Bigfoot as he hopped over a few rocks and brambles that he was trying to avpid.
He then stopped, back faced towards you on the mountain, and a low-lit outline of overall straps were strained over his shoulders as he took something out from the brush. Glances of his face from where you could see it gave way to a flat, round mask covering most of his identity. Without thinking, curiosity immediately taking control, you looked back to the camera and began zooming in on him. Turning the knob and doing anything in your amateur power to try and correct the lighting, you finally saw what he was holding up.
A closed bear trap, the U-Shape recognizable but giving you doubt at how cartoonish it almost felt to see one in real life. That soon gave way to a tight realization that there was no bear, or no animal for that matter caught between its teeth. Spattered with mud and a more streaked, thinner liquid alongside of it, you barely made out the crooked fingers of a forearm and hand without an owner as he released the trap with a swift, steady pull of his own arm. The appendage fell back into the brush, and when you flexed your hand to try and bring feeling back into your chilling body, your thumb had been pressing on the record button in a strike of mortified pressure, releasing it again with clammy skin.
“Fuckin’-ey.” You gasped, and that was when a shuffle of brush a few paces too close made your head snap away from watching the man.
Another body was seen, but that was all you caught before the reflex of jumping from the crouch sent you backwards. You gasped, already parallel to the side of the mountain as your legs gave way and skidded on loose dirt. One second, you watched the body at the top of the mountain stand straighter, a hand going out to try and catch you to no avail. The next your knee was embedding into the slanted earth as your head snapped to look back at the other body, now distracted and taken back to see others out here with him.
Both were frozen, watching you continue to slide and tumble down the mountain. You couldn’t help the noises you made, “Ach, fuck- God! Ow, god damn it-“
Finally, when you fell into a few unforgiving but large bushes at the foot of the hill, you stayed stock still. Head still spinning, you were whacked along the spine by your tripod tumbling after, but grabbed it by the camera still screwed on top and started blindly getting to your feet.
Your ankle was rolled, sharp pain shooting up and down your calf as you found a stride that had to be fast enough to disappear as quickly as you had been found. You didn’t listen for any voices, and it seemed that no one came after you. Eyes stinging from dirt and leaves having swat at them, you just kept running.
What was going on?
More importantly, why the hell did I try to get a photo of it??
The waitress brushed your t-shirt’s sleeve as she approached with your order. She did a double take at your empty mug, recalling you had needed it filled what was barely ten minutes ago. Looking up at her an apologetic frown, she gave you a smile. “I’ll get you another one, dear.” She assured as she took it, “College student, I’m guessing?”
“You guess right.” You sighed, hearing her quaint chuckle as her heels clicked off again.
Sitting in a shoddy little diner at 6:30 AM was all you could do without the paranoia eating you alive. It was better than just laying in bed back at your place, unable to close your eyes for more than a couple minutes at a time. The evening before had felt so far away, but it was only a handful of hours all at the same time. You put a hand on your bruising knee, itching the scab that had grown over a fresh scrape. It was at least disinfected and bandaged under your pant leg, which was some kind of reparation from going chest first down a rocky hillside.
If you had to be frank with yourself: that wasn’t what was causing you the exhaustion. You glanced out the window again, the sun taking longer and longer each day to rise from the myriad of suburban-esque buildings in Glen Echo, the bricks still a murky blue, not yet touched by golden dawn and brought to life. Eyes wandered back inside, and the waitress set the refilled mug down by your folded arms as you gave her a nod in thanks.
When your eyes left her again, you then realized there was someone looking at you from the other end of the dining room. You looked at your plate before the eye contact lingered, but your eyes were already growing, and there was no denying they were bloodshot as hell.
Fuck, that means his probably are too. Both of us had a late night.
You adjusted in your lonely booth, a hand running over your mouth as you gave another anxious glance out the window. Still, it didn’t stop him from standing from his seat, seeing that you were debating whether you were going to make a break for the door. He really thought low enough of you to anticipate a dine and dash; to be fair to him, you had been spotty enough to take off running from him before. He wasn’t even the one who had been setting up the murdering devices, and you were still frightened by the guy.
“Hello.”
Looking up from your coffee, you pretended to be surprised with the man now standing over the booth, like you hadn’t been watching the advancement in petrified dread. “…H-hello.” You played dumb, but he made you squirm again with a mulling, thorough stare, like he was analyzing your very posture, giving your obviously unnerved disposition its own character estimate.
He then stated, “You’re up rather early for someone who had been-“ You looked up at him in alert, and he was taken back by your mortified countenance. Still, he went on, “Staking out alongside me last night.”
“Okay,” You rolled your shoulders and quickly murmured, “What I was doing has no involvement with what I saw. I-I didn’t know that was what the camera was going to catch when I went out to the Vernon Farm.”
“No?” He breathed, unconvinced. Not sure what else to do, going into a muted panic, you decided to gesture to the empty seat across from you. He cast a disinterested glance at the chair, but then another pleading bob of your Adam’s apple from a guilty swallow was enough to get him to take it.
“I have never approached that man, but I…” You trailed off, looking around one last time before admitting, “Okay. I’m just a student, and I just needed a simple, local story for a school project.” You shook your head briskly, eyes staring into nothing as you laid it out for him, “I didn’t know there was…something lurking out there, just thought it’d be a goofy urban legend I’d cover with no dice on actually seeing anything, and then I’d get a grade for it and move on with my life.”
His eyes were losing their edge, listening to you go on, “I-if you’re a PI, or an officer, I’ll turn over my footage. I didn’t mean to write myself into this story or interfere with your investigation if that’s what you think I’m doing.”
The diner continued to bustle in an early morning lull while you were stuck in a limbo of silence. You sipped your coffee, the sound of the leather from his gloved hand finally releasing from its clench and setting flat on the table got you brave enough to look over at him again.
“I don’t believe it’s necessary.” He eased, and you breathed a sigh of relief from behind your folded hands. It only was sucked back up, seized in your chest again when he then mused, “Infact, I want to use it as means to help me.”
“What-?” You began, trying to smile, but his hand coming up to slow you in a definite gesture made you clam up again. “Yes, you’re amateur, but you have gotten closer to that man than I could even hope to despite not being one of his targets. You can’t deny that you faced him last night, correct?”
You merely nodded, and he shook his head, “I don’t think you understand how difficult that is. You’re lucky you weren’t maimed when he spotted you.”
I was lucky I didn’t maim myself, you concurred. You tapped your nail on the outside of the mug and weakly joked, “He must’ve had better fish to fry.” The man leaned forward slightly, and you finally looked him in the eye, seeing the world of knowledge you couldn’t even begin to understand quite yet.
“If we don’t stop him, my young friend, it’ll become far too many fish.”
#doc halloran x reader#final boy x reader#(i guess he counts lol??)#final divorced man x reader#(that's way more fitting)#slasher fanfiction#✏️#🍎
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I saw mha posting
Your thoughts on the 8 most relevant characters of mha going through the survive storyline?
Okay so I haven't actually caught up on mha in years so I don't know who I would count as the most relevant
But let's just say bakusquad (Baku, Kiri, Kami, Mina, Sero) and dekusquad (Deku, Uraraka, Iida, Todo) in Survive
Which *counting on fingers* is one extra.
But if we count The Others you could say Survive actually has 10 main characters so for the fun of it let's throw in Aizawa as a stand-in for the Professor and round out this group with also 10
I'm gonna go ahead and treat them all as their season 1 selves because, well, no one had their development arcs and half them didn't know each other very well yet in Survive so these kids are starting from square one as well
Which...is a recipe for chaos quite frankly
Bakugou keeps trying to do the opposite of whatever Midoriya thinks they should be doing, Todoroki keeps trying to go off on his own, NEITHER of them strike me as the type to immediately trust their parents so that's a shit show in its own right
In fact I'm gonna be so bold as to accuse them of being the first to die in the obligatory vanilla route
The only person who can keep them all in line gets thrown off a dam in I think part 2 if we follow the Survive timeline so...OOPS
Iida is stressed out bc no one is listening to him but I don't think he'd ever get as bad as Shuuji and I think he would rely on his partner and also his friends
Although...yeah okay yeah I think Ima diagnose Iida with "would have a villain arc in a bad route where something happened to Midoriya or Uraraka"
Uraraka keeps her idiots in line as best as she can. Sero keeps his idiots in line as best as he can. Other than Bakugou and Todoroki I think they'd be successful. I also think most of the kids would readily trust their partners.
Don't ask me to make headcanons about who would have what partner tho I'm not that creative.
Kiri having a Gotsumon and being afraid of them at first because of how they all got attacked by a bunch of Gotsumon at the beginning would be funny tho.
Also speaking of Kiri I think he would have a lot of fun evolution scenes yknow like in the beginning he'd having Crippling Self Doubt™️ and you'd just get to watch him become more and more confident that he can everyone as time goes on. I like Kirishima.
I think Ashido would lowkey be Their Rock (ironically) in the beginning. Like someone who's strong and confident but also agreeable and kind (if a liiiiittle on the dumb side) from the get go.
...I'm just gonna diagnose Kaminari with Minoru. Not to say they're exactly alike or anything but I could see him pretending to be sick just to mess with everyone or charging ahead if the group is hesitant.
I think a Potential Problem with this group is that, well, they're ALL wanna be heroes.
The Survive kids for the most part knew when to cut their losses, but idk if I could say the same about the mha kids. They might take more unnecessary risks and push their limits further than they should.
Oh and in routes where they don't fuckin die I think it would be fun watching Baku and Todo learn to trust their friends and their partners. There is a 100% chance that Bakugou would get real cocky about having the best partner ever. I can just imagine him bragging nonstop about them. What an annoying little guy.
Anyways this is all based off what I remember about these characters from a pretty long time ago so isjskdn sorry if I have offensively mangled anyone's fav's characterization <3
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hello!! this is my first ever collab and man o man am I happy to be participating in @buttershouse ‘s Magic March with so many talented people!! Please go check out everyone’s work, there’s so many delicious pieces to choose from.
without further a-due, please enjoy this 7k word mash of a magic coffee shop/witch/ college au that I have goin here
pairing: Sero Hanta (with a FUCKIN UNDERCUT !) x gn!reader (afab)
warnings: she’s WHOLESOME, implied sexual themes throughout and then actual smut at the end !! , sex on aphrodisiacs
a/n: thank you so so so so so so so much to @keishinslove @hiddenbluee @spikesbimbo @scorpiomoonslutt and @dymphnasprose for reading and beta-ing this big boi- you guys helped me so much and 🥺🥺 you guys seriously mean the world to me.
tag list: @hiddenbluee @undersero @sawam0chi
“Double double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble,” you hum as you steep black tea before shifting to the other part of your station so you could add the guise of vanilla to the milk you were about to steam.
You hear a snort come from your coworker as she looks over to you before smirking, “You think you’re so funny,” she teases while heating up a chocolate muffin for the current order.
“I do, I really do,” you muse, holding the metal pitcher up to the espresso machine’s steam wand. The distinct smell of the liquid luck wafts around as you begin blending it in with the milk; it makes you smile, a comfortingly warm feeling washing over you.
You always hoped people stepped into the shop hearing about the rumors and whole-heartedly believed them; believing in the magic that went into each drink when they ordered something off of the special menus- and that it wasn’t just for the unique taste.
When you first started out, you often heard that with each new employee, the magical feeling tends to die out sooner or later; the happiness of creating spells and potions for others fleeting with the ever-growing pessimism towards all things unexplainable. After working at the shop for three years, one would think the feeling would have caught up to you, instead you felt anything but. With each new regular whose eyes sparkled with excitement as you handed them their unique concoction of a drink, your smile grew wider. Sometimes the familiar faces would come back and whisper about how each drink gave them the right energy to deal with each individual situation… almost like magic. You could do nothing but smile, sometimes a coy little wink was added, exciting the customer more and more. They'd leave with a newfound pep in their step. That's what has kept you going for so long. All anyone ever has to do was keep an open mind and believe that true magic does exist, and when you do, it's almost as though a door opens up, full of delightful possibilities.
As you called out the finished order and thanked the satisfied customer, the shop’s entrance bell chimed, welcoming in the newest one.
You look up and made eye contact with someone who seemed oddly familiar; you tend to remember almost every person that has shown up more than twice at the cafe, so the fact that you can't fully recognize him only shows that the cafe couldn't have been where you’ve known him from... You couldn't quite put your finger on where you've seen him before but you definitely couldn't forget the welcoming aura he radiated. With his black hair pulled into a ponytail, exposing his undercut, and his extra large t-shirt hanging off of his lean frame, he flashed a bright smile, heading up to the counter to order.
Accustomed to ‘hey’s, ‘hi’s, or even an immediate order, the first thing out of his mouth somewhat surprised you. With a tilt of the head and a squint of the eyes, he mumbled out, “.. You look really familiar.” as he tried to place the face.
“You know, I was thinking the same thing...” you trailed off.
After a few seconds of analysis with no conclusion, he seemed to shrug and let out a little chuckle with a passive “it'll probably come to me in the middle of my next class…” before his eyes caught sight of the menus off to the side. Not wanting to make it too obvious that you were tempted to stare, you aimed your gaze elsewhere, only occasionally sneaking a glance at him while he was preoccupied with the menu.
“Ahh… can I get…” he kept his sights on all the options he could, as if it was going to make him any more decisive. Part of you hoped to hear something special, something magical, only to hear, “uhh a… hot latte please?”
While a very solid drink, you subconsciously waited to hear a flavor come after it; staring at him, almost in a daze.
“Did I forget something...?” Your eyes grew wide, mind blank, trying to come up with an excuse for the elongated silence but before you could spout something out, his smile grew as he rolled his eyes, “Oh, duh, I forgot the size!” A breathy laugh came after his revelation and your chest felt lighter once the sound hit your ears. “Could I get a large please?”
“Yeah, absolutely!” you chime as you grab a large paper cup and mark down his order with a sharpie.“Will that be all for you today?” looking back up at him, your customer service smile makes its awaited appearance like clockwork as it did when wrapping up every order. His eyes darted to the full pastry case before he could conclude, causing an actual smile to grace your lips, “Tempted?”
“One way or another, yea,” he said with an undertone of something else being implied, causing your cheeks to heat up. The smile that he threw in there further caused a little flutter of your heart.
“Well luckily for you, we just restocked, so you've got a wide range of goodies to choose from.”
He licked his bottom lip and smoothly responded with, “Well which is your favorite?”
“My favorite? Hmm… Well, I always love a good chocolate croissant whenever I'm drinking regular lattes. The chocolate adds in that kick of sweetness that compliments the lack thereof with the coffee and bonus, it's not too heavy where it will make you feel bloated.``
“You really know how to sell a guy… That sounds amazing. Could I have that, please?” the tone in his voice was playful, fun, possibly flirty- and that was something that you were not going to think about. He’s a customer; he might not come back when he wants his next cup of coffee.
“You want me to warm it up for you?”
“Sure!”
Picking up the prongs, you took the freshest croissant from the batch and placed it in the microwave oven, turning back around.
You voiced his total with a soft smile, “Cash or card?”
“Card. uh .. Can I leave a tip on here?”
Cue the airy sigh that left your chest. A man who knows to leave a tip: you were in love with him already.
“Yea!” you squeak before clearing your throat, “Yea, once you remove your card, the option should pop up on the screen!”
You throw one more smile back at him before turning around to start his drink, not missing the incredibly hard stare your coworker was giving you. You try not to look at them throughout the duration of making his drink.
Handing the handsome man his order, your hands lightly brushed against his and you fought hard to ignore the hefty thump in your chest. You looked back up at him and swore that there was a tint of rose dusted across his cheeks.
You saw the beginning of his outburst before you could hear it.
“Sero!” he said quickly, “Sero Hanta. That’s my name.”
You smiled, sticking out your hand and saying your name, “I’ll be sure to remember it… Sero.”
The rest of the shift went by pretty quick after that. Your coworker couldn't keep their mouth shut about how he was flirting with you and how you just so happened to be flirting back. You two were giggling so much that the rest of the shift just seemed to slip away and before you know it, it was time to clock out.
“Is there anything you want me to do before I head out?” you shout, asking the newly present night shift as you’re halfway out the door.
“No no, we got it,” both your coworkers chime, “just hurry up and get to class!” one of them adds.
Rolling your eyes, you wave goodbye, double checking that everything needed for class was in your bag before fully lugging one of the straps onto your shoulder and heading off.
The walk wasn't that far from the shop, luckily- taking your time and enjoying the world around you was such a cooldown from the hustle and bustle of your work shifts.
The college town was quaint, warm, homely; It felt like everywhere was a short walk away- which it was. There was an ample amount of time for you to stroll to class after one of your shifts.
As you peruse down the street, you took note of how bright it felt this time of day and how soft the glow emanating from the sunlight hitting the trees was; the kiss of the sun heated your skin, allowing you to bask in the warmth of everything: the environment, the vibe, the mood. What a great feeling.
Random thoughts passed in and out of your brain as you got to the entrance of campus- but the continuous train of thought halted at the station when the image of that man who came into the shop, the one with the undercut- Sero Hanta, popped up.
He was really attractive… where had you seen him before?
You mindlessly head towards the lecture hall, with the image of Sero’s face ever present behind your eyelids. The approaching building was a beautiful brick with ivy climbing up the side, a framed golden plaque near the large double doors announced that people were about to enter the Mirai Sasaki building- something you would normally stop to admire but today, you headed straight inside and towards your seat, still mentally preoccupied.
Plopping down, you situate yourself, getting everything out; your textbook, notebook, pens, pencils and even a highlighter. You take a deep breath before slightly shaking your mind to wake up and concentrate on the human sexuality lecture that was about to start. Sero Hanta can wait.
Is what you told yourself and yet, the thought of him wouldn't leave you alone. It went so far as even hearing the professor call out his name.
“So, I just wanted to clarify,” your ears perk up at the voice, “The article you gave us was about how unequal the orgasm ratio- the orgasm gap- is for women… but I feel like there is a new wave of um… feminine orgasm appreciation. Not to get too personal, but I know between my friends and I, we make sure that our partners always come… first.” He trailed off at the last part, probably coming to terms with the awkward phrasing he had ended with.
You had to take a second to get a grip; too many things were happening at once and the one that held most of your attention was the fact that Sero Hanta blatantly admitted to wanting the girl to orgasm first.
What a gentleman.
“Thank you for your… input … mister Sero- but with what you pointed out, it’s actually a perfect segway into the first project of the semester! If you notice in your syllabus, I typed a very vague title for the next class’s date. We're going to talk about it more next class but until then, please read the assigned articles by the next class and have a good rest of your day!”
While the majority of the class was packed and headed to the door, your eyes stayed glued on Sero as you mindlessly put things away. It seemed as though he was taking his time as well. Maybe he needed to talk to the professor?
Seeing that your desk was now cleared, you slowly began descending down the stairs to get to the floor level, eyes glued to each step in front of you, mind somewhere completely different until your head is met with a firm back. With wide eyes, you step back and begin a stream of apologies, head bowed and eyes still on the floor as if you didn’t learn your lesson the first time. A warm chuckle hushes you accompanied with a light, “It’s alright, it’s alright!”
You look back up and are met with the mind-dizzying smile of the man who failed to leave your thoughts alone.
Before your eyes could get any bigger, he murmurs your name. “So this is where I know you from!” He slightly cheered, lopsided grin growing comfortable.
˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ 12 oz Time Flies with soy milk, hot; cinnamon orange black tea latte brewed with charmed orange peel to bring back the most nostalgic feelings (add a shot of our very own vanilla -liquid luck- to help Luck stay on your side!)˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚
“Hey! Hey- you guys aren't closing are you?” You hear a panting voice rush through the door- the complete opposite of the energy the cafe currently held. You and your coworker were just winding down from your shift, cleaning and making sure everything was restocked for the next shift, soft music aiding the mood.
Sero was attempting to collect himself when he realized the two pairs of stunned eyes staring at him.
“I just- I wanted to walk with you to class. If that’s cool,” he said to you, flattening his shirt down, “and maybe get a coffee.”
Warmth fills your face as you try to suppress a smirk, “in that order?”
The already flustered college student blushed just a bit harder. Before he could come up with a response, your smirk eased into a soft smile, “okay Sero, what could I get you to drink?”
He steps further inside and orders the same thing he got the first time: a large hot latte. It doesn't take long until the drink is in his hand and you're shooing him off to a table, “I’ll be done in like 10 minutes, is that alright?” you ask, hints of your customer service mannerisms kicking in. He nods and you get back to cleaning, unaware that your movements became a bit swifter.
After clocking out, you’re met with an eager grin and a glint of something unnameable in sero’s eyes.
“The coffee was excellent, by the way. Both times I had it. Do you do something to it? I feel like it’s so much more than just a simple latte.”
You smile at two things, him opening the door for you, and the fact that he was absolutely oblivious to the fact that his drink is one of the few drinks you don’t add any magical properties to.
“I make it with kindness.” You say as you two start your walk, intertwining your hands behind you.
“So mister Hanta… have you been stalking me?”
His eyes grow wide as his cheeks taint red, “N-no! I just thought that maybe you work every shift that’s before our class.”
“Hmmm… So were you going to come by every day to test out your theory if i wasn't there today?”
“Well, luckily you were there, so I guess we’ll never know the answer.”
After you hummed out a response, the walk turned into a comfortable type of silent.
The both of you had several things passing through your mind, but outwardly, one was caught up basking in the fresh spring air while the other was admiring how the wind would slightly shift your hair.
Deciding to break the silence, you turned to face him, “Hey, so, why did you choose to take human sexuality?”
He didn't seem surprised to hear the question but he took a moment; it didn't seem like he was scrambling to find the perfect answer, it was almost like he just couldn't properly find the words.
“Honestly, I love intimacy. I think its really cool that not one person’s views on sex and sexuality and the miniscule details within it, are the same.”
While the words you were hearing made sense, it must have shown that you weren't prepared for such an insightful answer because he let out a hearty laugh that seemed to go on and on, even after he took a deep inhale.
“I’m sorry-” he choked out as he grabbed his chest, “your face just-” he gulped another breath of air, trying to regain composure.
Throughout his fit of laughter, you almost joined in a few times if it weren’t for you biting your cheek in attempts to keep the annoyed facade up.
As soon as it seemed like he got it all out, you try to pull a convincing pout.
“So what's the real answer, then?”
He cocks his head at your question, a smile still playing on his lips, “whaddya mean?”
“You're telling me that what you said wasn't just to catch me off guard?”
“Oh! No no, that's really why I'm taking the class. But i bet you thought i was going to say something asshole-y like ‘i just wanna learn more about sex so i could be better’, hm?” he said the last part in a dopey voice before smirking back at you.
You rolled your eyes in return, “not necessarily, that was just a really… refreshing… answer.”
By the time you got to class, it seemed pretty full, which was a bit odd seeing as though there was still some time before the lecture started. Part of you was hoping that you could snag a seat next to Sero or he could snag a seat next to you- but both of your usual seats were surrounded by others already. There was also always the possibility that maybe he didn't want to sit next to you; you didn't want to get your hopes up so you turned to him, waved goodbye, and headed to your normal seat. Unbenounced to you, he physically slouched in disappointment before heading to his spot.
The lesson went on, and while he wasn't crowding your mind today, you subconsciously kept stealing glances at him throughout the lecture in hopes that one of the times you'll find him glancing back at you. The only time you did catch him staring at you was with wide eyes when the professor announced that you two were going to be partners for the upcoming project.
“So I guess this means it's an appropriate time to ask for your number… I wanted to ask you for it but I didn't want to move too fast…?” he said as you two approached eachother after class, cracking a shy smile while he absentmindedly scratched the back of his neck, a subltle flex of his muscles on display. It was a bit hard to concentrate with a combo move like that attacking you, as if he was going in for the kill.
“I wouldn't have thought it was too fast.” you softly counter, flashing him a tender smile.
It was one thing to feel the heat go to your face, it's another to visibly see it appear on his.
You both traded phones at the same time with the promise to text each other later that night; you put a little coffee emoji by his name while he put the sun next to yours.
˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚20 oz The Charismatic ! with hemp milk, iced; freshly brewed jasmine tea with a shot of our very own vanilla (liquid luck) to help your attitude and chances toward any situation˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚
Sitting at the furthest table away from the register, you start to unpack your laptop and make yourself comfortable- you're gonna be here a while. Powering up the device, Hanta pulls at the seat across from you and begins to mimic your movements.
“So you want our first project meeting… at a coffee shop?” you start, trying to keep the smile from coming onto your face. Looking up at him would mean automatic defeat seeing as it's getting harder and harder for you to look at him without your lips twitching upward.
“I thought it would be very symbolic.”
A snort greeted both of your guy’s ears as your eyes went wide and your hands shot up to cover your mouth. “Anyway, so the project.” Blushing around him was starting to become a regular occurrence, as well.
“Right,” he says clapping his hands and rubbing them together.
“So the project is to point out common sexual misconceptions and back it up with statistics and research articles. The fact that we got dibs on the misconception of the orgasm gap all because you had bragged about your personal sex life…” the thought alone shot a wave of warmth down your spine and right to your lower region. A flash of a Sero you hadn’t faced yet appeared in your imagination; him looking up at you, hungry and eager to please. It made your breath hitch.
“Well, yea! I had to voice it. I mean, I feel like it’s common sense! When you have sex by yourself, then you can focus on what makes you feel good and what makes you cum. But when you’re with a partner…” he trailed off and your gaze snapped to him, “you should make sure they cum at least once before doing… whatever you two.. had.. planned on… doing.” Sero finished, his eyes flickered between your eyes and lips.
Oh fuck.
You felt yourself throb.
“Y-yea! Uh I completely a-agree.”
It’s almost as though he could tell that you were flustered so just to top it off, he smirked, “Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” before deciding to drop it and move on.
He took a sip of his drink and sighed, “You guys really do make the best coffee. I got the same thing as I did with your place and yet… I'm here longing for your coffee.” you snort once again.
After that, the conversation eased into the project and what exactly needed to be done; the assignment was very simple but sorting out what dates you guys were going to meet up and how exactly you were going to go about gathering the information was all crucial. The project was due in a month and needed to be submitted in powerpoint format- which the both of you were relieved about.
It was really cute seeing Hanta’s eyes all lit up when it came to the part of how you two were going to go about getting all the information needed. He even suggested to conduct a little side research if you guys were ahead of schedule. It was something that made your heart patter. It was almost like you had smelt some of the charmed rose petals from work because every time you looked at him, you couldn't stop the warmth that flooded in your chest.
With that thought, there was the fact that he was more than likely going to be spending large amounts of time at the cafe- would he notice? Should you just come straight out and explain it? Explain that you were considered a witch, someone who was open-minded and was in tune with their intuition and can work with certain herbs, charms, and spells to create wonderful things? It didn't seem that big of a deal to you, it was something you had grown up with; simple spells and practices that just made day to day life more simple. Not every witch has been through the same childhood you had, there’s no special school- not that you were aware of, anyway. Your parents kept their grimoire out in the open and let you frolic about as they eased basic wholesome rituals into your life, and when you got old enough, they let you take in chapter by chapter each spell they casted, each potion they brewed.
When you applied at the cafe, your first interview was full of normal questions worded in a way that almost sounded like it had a double meaning, thankfully you caught it and later was asked for a second interview- conducted by the boss himself. He had asked you to perform a basic potion/drink you grew up with, something that made you feel like you were walking on air. It was simple; a butterfly pea tea with a breath of life, with just a little bit of lemon activated the spell in the brew. When the well made drink hit his tongue, he offered you the job not a second later.
No. You wouldn't tell Sero yet. It never came up; It’d be odd to tell him straight off the bat- there's really no need. If he ever asks… then you’ll tell him.
But he hadn't so far.
Each meeting so far felt incredibly productive. It seemed like getting work done came naturally, with the topic being easy to discuss between the two of you and getting the articles to support your claim was fairly simple- apparently a lot of studies have been done about people’s orgasms.
Since drafting up a skeleton outline the first time meeting, the bits and pieces really started coming together, but the get-togethers sometimes didn't go as planned- however, what was a constant was that no matter what the meet-up consisted of, there would always be a paper cup from your work, filled with a hot latte.
Some of the days, rather than working on the project, the two of you would use the allotted time to sit in your cafe and goof off, or sometimes you would host “tea time” in your apartment and talk about anything and everything- and it was okay because very early on, you both gathered all the adequate articles that involved your topic and sifted through them to get the statistics you needed. Collecting the data was simple enough and putting it together just came easy to you.
Looking up from your laptop, finally done with sorting all the cited sources in each slide, you wave your hand at Sero to get his attention. Hanta was working on phrasing the facts and statistics from each work, so when he tilted his head up, gaze still on the screen until he finished typing the last sentence, he took his headphones out and hummed as he looked at you.
“You get the same thing everytime we’re together… why?”
He glanced at his almost empty cup before fully taking out his headphones, “I get it all the time because it really is the best latte I've ever gotten from a cafe before. I tell you this all the time.”
“You never… wanna try anything new?”
“Is there something in particular you want me to try?” he asks, quirking his eyebrow upwards.
“Well no, not necessarily…”
“Well then how about you give me a recommendation? What’s a drink you think I would love?”
This one stumped you for a minute. Though the thought had crossed your mind quite often, you couldn't quite pinpoint which special drink he’d appreciate the most. Something warm… something reflecting how you feel about him.
“I think that you should get the Time Flies; it's this black tea latte with orange zest and it's really… cozy.”
“Okay, I'll try it the next time I go.”
And he did. The first sip he took felt like smooth gold hitting his tongue. So warm and rich that it had apparently induced the vivid image of the sunset from his grandmother’s porch. He was remembering the orange glow of everything the light touched. The whole day, he was feeling incredibly nostalgic, he even did some of the things he used to do when he was a kid, like watch old black and white movies and make dinner with his mom (even if it was through a phone call).
He told you all of this with one of the most handsome smiles you've ever seen, and that's saying a lot.
˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚16 oz Love Me or Love Me Not with oat milk, hot; our very own pink rose syrup (enchanted candied petals inside and dried petals on top) steamed in the milk meets a double shot of espresso for a deep, sweet, cozy drink˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚
“So,” you start once everything is situated on your living room table, the two floor pillows that play hosts to your guy’s lower halves sit diagonal from each other.
“So.”
“Everything is practically done, I just wanted to… call this meeting so we could just quickly skim over it and see if there was anything in the powerpoint that needed fixing and or adjusting.”
“Very reasonable reason to call this meeting but both of us have been looking at this practically nonstop… so I’m pretty sure it's good.”
“Well it’s due next class and I know we finished it up a few a couple of days ago but… there is absolutely nothing wrong with striving for perfection. And if anything, I’m trying to save your reputation.” he choked at the accusation you were attempting to make, “Oh yea! How are you going to get away with making that bold statement in front of the class, do a whole project on it, and then just… have it not be anything short of jaw dropping?” you didn't even wait for him to speak, “exactly. Your rep is on the line, I'm just the sorry person who got stuck with you.” You smirk, driving your ludacris point home while crossing your arms over your chest.
Scoffing, he leaned over and lightly shoved you, “we got to choose are partners for this project! You chose to be with me!” his cry caused a chuckle to fall from your mouth as you readjusted yourself onto your pillow, “that's neither here nor there.” you try your best snotty act as you stick your nose up in the air.
“Okay okay then, your grace, let us go over the powerpoint,” he jested along and gave you a slight bow.
After a quick runthrough, everything seemed spick and span, so the two of you became more relaxed and sunk into the larger floor pillows once again.
“So… I noticed that you finally got something from your shop.” Sero gestured over to the other paper cup on the table. “I have never seen you with your own coffee before, why today?”
Your cheeks involuntarily began to heat up; the drink he was referring to was none other than the Love Me or Love Me Not. Usually, you never went out of your way to make it, but for the occasion, it was necessary. It was the last time you guys were going to meet up for the project and you just… had to know.
Let it be known, messing with love potions wasn’t your forte, you preferred for everything romantic to be consensual and untampered with- that's why this brew in particular was one that you preferred out of all the ones that are out there. When made correctly, the person drinking it should be able to look at their crush (in person) and if the crush liked them back, then the drinker would get a fierce wave of goosebumps; if the person did not like them romantically, their head world ache for just a few minutes before going back to normal. Simple and effective, plus no one gets roughed up or drugged.
Not a single sip had been taken yet, you were on edge about the situation. This was the first time you had ever made it for yourself, and it was pretty nerve wracking to see if this man who you began harboring feelings for liked you the same.
It’s surely gone cold by now but that wasn’t going to stop you. “Oh! Uh- I was just really craving this drink today.” You say lamely before bringing the cup to your lips and taking a gulp.
The smell of rose hit your nose before you could register the taste. The evenly sweet syrup paired with the strong espresso danced on your tongue before you swallowed it. You softly sighed, it tasted delicious. Another sip slipped past your lips.
A roll of relief cascaded through you when an intense wave of goosebumps rose on your poked at your skin, causing you to cough and sputter. Eyes going wide and squeezing shut as the coughs wracked through your body.
He likes you.
While coming down from your fit, you semi glance at Hanta who had almost instantly appeared by your side, patting and gently rubbing your back.
“Is there liquor in that?” He joked as he handed you your drink so you could have more liquid to ease your throat.
You shook your head after drinking some more and cracking a grin. It might’ve been too big of a smile for someone who just choked but you didn’t care. Sero Hanta… likes you.
Unable to help it, you glance down at his lips only to realize how close he is. Your grin slowly drops, your heart pounding in your chest.
“Can I uh.. can I try your drink?” He says, face red with blush.
As you go to hand him your drink, he leans in and cups your jaw- causing your whole body to still, even your heart stopped to join the languor.
He peaks his tongue out to softly lap up a drop that must have been on your lip, before capturing your lips with his.
It felt like your mind shut down, and all you can feel is how soft his lips are and how sweetly he’s kissing you. Almost hesitantly.
He pulls away in attempts to find your gaze to decipher how you felt about it.
Your breath is ragged as you look back at him- everything and nothing is going on in your head in that moment, unable to speak, until you see the goosebumps that coat his body.
Your heart thumps impossibly faster as you realize that not only does he like you… but he truly believes. He believes in the two of you, he believes in love, and he believes in magic.
Without another second to waste, you tackle him in a hug and find your lips on his in a way that you know you’ll never get enough of.
special extra ! : you and Hanta in the fall- Season of the Witch with almond milk, hot; dirty chai latte with a bewitched cinnamon stick to help keep you warm ;) , even on the coldest of days ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚
The cold nips at your nose just as big hands nip at your waist, causing you to let out a noise between a squeak and a gasp. A flash of soft black hair blurred your vision before cold lips meet yours. “Hanta,” you sigh into the kiss before pulling away and giggling.
You were heading back to your apartment after a day shift at work, the sky already becoming darker because of the autumnal equinox.
“What are you doing? I thought I was gonna meet you at my place.” You say as your fingers intertwined and your step fell into pace with his. He pulled you closer so that you were basically leaning into him as you walked.
“You know those chocolate and pumpkin scones you baked for me? The special ones?” He quietly moaned.
Your eyes go wide as he purposely guided your intertwined hands over his blatant bulge.
“Hanta you weren’t supposed to eat those until later, the spell usually kicks in within the next 30 minutes!” You giggle again.
A few weeks after you two started officially dating, you formally sat him down and explained everything you didn't when talking about your guys’ past- the memories of frolicking through tall grass and talking to your mother’s familiar, to getting your job at the cafe. He told you that it was a lot to take in, but never did he push you away. When he went to the cafe, he was more observant. Somewhere in the months between June and July, he slowly became more and more interested in the rituals you would do and the potions you would make. He wanted to start joining in. Now in October, he loves seeing your crystals around your house and all the different herbs you grow in the sills of your window. When he found out that you could bake magical pastries with certain herbs, he almost immediately asked you to bake him some. At first, it started as something simple like a sage and rosemary savory loaf that helped cleanse your pallet of any negative energy. Then it started becoming more and more intricate, and that's how the two of you ended up here.
“I know but fuck-- I was hungry and they looked so good, and now I’m hard and I need you.” he spoke lowly.
This was going to be fun.
The rest of the way, you were casually asking him things that shouldn't be heard in a public setting, “What is it you want to taste first, Hanta?”
“How badly do you want to fuck me into the mattress? Hm? Have your big cock stretch me out?”
“Wanna fill me up?”
By the time you both got to your apartment, there was no fumbling with the keys to get your door to open, you already had them out; getting through the door took three seconds tops. Next thing you know, your back was against the closest wall, your hands pulling at his tied up hair and scraping your nails against his scalp when the soft locks fell. One of his big hands lifted up a leg of yours and he groaned as he thrust upward against your heat.
“Fuck-” he panted into the kiss before trailing down your neck, still holding up one leg while the other hand finds itself under your shirt, his fingers hot to the touch.
Releasing your leg and dropping to his knees, he looked up at you as he fumbled with the button of your pants. You lace your fingers in his hair, feeling him yank the material down your legs, tossing the one leg over your less dominant leg over your shoulder, and when a warm muscle hits your sopping clothed core, you pull his hair harder to apply more pressure.
“Look at me when I have you in my mouth, I wanna see how much you enjoy this.”
You felt yourself clench, and apparently so did he, because a smirk grew on his lips. “Oh, you like when I say things like that?”
“H-hanta, please.. '' your voice wavered before you sucked in a sharp gasp. He had a finger, then two inside of you in no time, the other hand keeping the underwear out of the way so his lips could wrap around your clit.
He was pumping in and out of you faster and faster, occasionally switching the pace to unbearably slow and when you would whine, he’d tilt his head up, mid lick, to throw you a teasing glance before picking up the pace. He bagan curling his fingers, hitting a spot that had your eyes rolling and with the pressure building up, it had you panting out a breathy repetitive stream of his name.
“‘M gonna cum Hanta, hh-” you moaned out before clenching your eyes shut, your body involuntarily shaking above him. And right below you, he was ready to lick up everything you had to offer.
Holding you steady as he came up to kiss you, your juices still on his lips, “you ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked when he pulled away. The short sobering moment hit as soon as he scooped you up and carried you to the bedroom, but after he tossed you onto the bed, the look he gave you as he was unbuttoning his pants drew your mind hazy again.
“Can't wait to pump you full of my cum, to have you a drooling mess because of my cock.” he huskily whispered, giving you so many delicious previews of how the night will go. “You want that, pretty? Use your words.” he said as he crawled over to you and caged you in. The scent of cedar wood and citrus clouded your senses.
“Yes please Hanta!” you whine, “wanna feel stuffed b’cause of your cum. Please fill me up--” you whimper out, cutting yourself off when you felt his leaky tip at your wet entrance.
Just like each time you two have been intimate, he guides himself slowly until he's in to the hilt of his pelvis, “shit, squeezing me so hard- c-an i move?” he moans out.
Unable to form coherent sentences, you frantically nod and squeak out, “yes!”
With your permission granted, he eases in a thrust before he starts snapping his hips into you.
“Fuck, look at you, milking my cock so good-” he moaned, as he leaned in and kissed you. Each sharp thrust jolted you upwards, proving just how powerful his thrusts were. You threw your arms around his neck for the slight stability.
You began to let out little moans into the kiss that spurr him further; everything was beginning to get to him. How tight you felt around him, the feel of your tongue against his, the sloppy wet noises of your cunt.
“I’m gonna cum-- i'm gonna cum!” he choked out.
You clawed at his back while whimpering pleas for him to fill you up, “fill me up with your cum, your cock fills me so good, please Hanta, more- more!”
You were clenching around him hard, and to bring you right to his level, he found your puffy clit and began a quick circular motion that made your jaw go slack, causing more frequent clenches.
His mind blurred as he pushed himself the deepest he could, moaning out your name and a gruff curse before emptying himself into you.
You felt him twitch inside of you right before hot seed coated your already warm walls, and that’s what pushed you into a convulsion of ecstasy.
He lazily humped his hips into you as you rode out your high before pulling out and rolling next to you.
Calling out your name to bring your attention to him, he pulls you into his chest where you could feel his racing heart, “what if… I started singing that song from hocus pocus? You know the one..”
What a goof, you thought to yourself, playfully smacking his chest as you roll your eyes, looking up at him.
“I put a spell on you… and now you're mine…” you begin to whisper, earning a hearty laugh from you boyfriend.
Maybe it was mutual, but quite possibly he had put a spell on you. And you were more than okay with it.
#she dreams !#butter’s house🏡#🪄 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓.#sero hanta#sero mha#sero smut#sero hanta smut#mha fanfiction#mha#bnha smut#bnha#bnha fanfiction#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#my hero academia smut#sero bnha#sero hanta mha#mha smut#smut
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⟼ monster
⍣ all time low series | next | 1/4
・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・
⇢ pairing: tendo/reader
⇢ au: atl!au, college!au
⇢ summary: you like horror movies, tendou likes horror movies, what could go wrong?
⇥ masterlist
⇢ warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, mentions of bullying, insecurities, piercings, cursing
⇢ word count: 13.2k
・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・
⇢ a/n: i think this is the biggest fic i’ve ever written and it’s one of my favorites, if not my absolute favorite i’ve written so far. it was kinda hard to write it in a way that stayed true to my vision for it but also didn’t make it childish, so i hope i succeeded in that regard. as always, thank you to @keijiskitten for editing this!
“Oh, come on, ‘Kaashi,” you said, setting your hand on your hip. You were standing around in the middle of the classroom with him and a few others, waiting for your professor to show up who was no doubt getting a coffee from the overflowing Starbucks down the street. Class would be half over before he finally arrived. “It’s just a few scary movies.”
“Sorry, _____. I have to study and I just know that trying to watch movies with you and study is gonna be a nightmare,” he said, giving you a sympathetic look. “And give me nightmares.”
You rolled your eyes and looked around to Bokuto, who was scrolling through his phone while he chatted with Yaku about the next practice. That was a hard no. Poor Bo would agree without complaint and wind up with nightmares for a week, clinging to you throughout the night. Catching Akaashi’s eye, you exchanged knowing looks and chuckles.
“Hey, _____,” Semi said from your other side. He was busy filling out a music sheet with notes for his next possible song, and the way he said your name indicated he was more focused on that than your quandary.
Still, you turned to look at him over your shoulder, quirking your eyebrow at him. When he didn’t immediately continue, you prompted him. “What’s up?”
“Oh, right,” he said, looking up from the paper. He gave you a small smile and tapped the tip of his pencil on the desk in a smooth rhythm, leaving small marks all over the surface. “You should see if Tendo wants to join you. He’s really into horror movies too.”
“Um, who?”
Semi’s eyes widened in surprise and he pointed over his shoulder. You could hear Akaashi snicker from your other side. The chair on Semi’s other side tipped back on its back legs, and a man with close-cut red hair peeked around his back, waving cheekily at you.
“Hi, name’s Tendo Satori. I’ve only been hanging around you for about two weeks now,” he said and, though he sounded lighthearted and jovial about it, you could see the way his eyes remained narrowed, scrutinizing you. And he didn’t look impressed.
You flushed bright red, realizing you did know him but had never committed his name to memory. Mostly because he hadn’t ever really said anything to you or seemed interested in you at all.
“I-- well, I’m sorry,” you offered awkwardly. But you meant it, at least. You felt a bit bad now that he was in your face. Trying to lighten the mood, you joked, “I’m _____ _____ and my brain space is committed to horror movies and studying. No space for names I’m afraid.”
Semi rolled his eyes and Akaashi heaved a long-suffering sigh, covering his eyes with his hand, but Tendo laughed at your stupid joke. His eyes eased up, his smile relaxing, and he now looked genuinely interested.
“A horror movie marathon, huh? I’m interested. Why don’t you tell me more?”
--
Tendo didn’t actually expect it to go his way. As with most other people, he was sure you were just faking your enthusiasm and would flake out once you were free of him.
And yet when lunch rolled around and your group of friends were standing in the breezeway, shivering as you tried to pick out some place to go and eat off campus, you fell into step beside him.
“I really am sorry for not knowing who you were,” you offered, adjusting your bag on your shoulder and slipping a pair of gloves on. “Could we, maybe--”
He cut you off, grinning. “Forgiven and forgotten, _____.”
Hesitantly, you smiled back. He was strange, to be sure. Even though you hadn’t really had a true conversation with him yet, you got the feeling he was different, eccentric and unpredictable maybe. The way he harassed the shit out of Semi and some of the others was hysterical, though. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was that made you feel that way, but it wasn’t bad. You were even a little curious.
“Okay cool. So if, by chance, we were to do this movie marathon, how would you feel about cannibals?” you asked, tapping your chin thoughtfully. It was a theme you had been thinking about for a while, but none of your friends were into horror movies much, let alone a dozen or so movies centered around such a gory theme.
Tendo clicked his tongue and you heard a strange clink. “Hypothetically, right?”
“Right,” you said, your eyes zeroed in on his mouth, waiting for him to speak again.
He hummed, his lips curling in thought and his eyes narrowing as he stared off in the distance. Second in height only to Bokuto, he towered over everyone even though the two of you walked together at the back of the group. Speaking of Bokuto, you could hear him over the chatter of the other students around you, talking about the diner just a block away from the school and guessed that that was where you were going.
Then he shrugged. “That sounds rad. What’re you thinking? Hypothetically.”
“Well, obviously gotta go with The Hills Have Eyes. I mean, it’s a classic. And then of course Wrong Turn because there’s so many of those. And, uh…that’s all I have, but that’s literally like 8 movies and if we get past those I don’t know what we’ll do,” you said, weaving through the throngs of people on the sidewalk. You had forgotten you had been trying to see what was in his mouth just a few minutes ago as you avoided toes. You could see the diner sign up ahead, reading “Newly Opened” and a list of menu items, but it was otherwise obscured from your view.
A gasp from Tendo startled you and you whipped around to look at him, only to find him staring at you in disbelief.
He had to fight the laugh in his chest from coming up at the wide-eyed, freaked out look on your face as he said, “I cannot believe you’ve forgotten the most classic of classic cannibal movies, _____. How could you forget The Texas Chainsaw Massacre movies?”
Relief mingled with amusement on your face when you realized what he was getting at, and you covered your mouth as you laughed. Putting on your best ashamed expression, you closed your eyes. “I can’t believe I forgot those. I’m such a fake fan.”
“Kicked out of the club for sure,” he said, holding the door open for you. The bustle of the diner drowned out anything more Tendo said as you followed the others towards a large table in the back corner. After that, you were seated between Semi and Akaashi and the conversation was halted.
For the time being.
--
You didn’t bring up the marathon again, though you snagged Tendo’s number the day after you went to the diner. The conversation started out about movies and morphed into other topics like majors, highschools, how he knew Eita and how you had met Bokuto and Akaashi, amongst others. It left Tendo in a bit of confusion. The two of you kept up a steady stream of communication throughout the day, even sneaking in texts during classes that could net you extra work or pop quizzes. And yet never once was the marathon mentioned.
Part of him was bummed because he had kind of been looking forward to the movies, but the larger part of him was unsurprised. Something like that was way too intimate, and for someone like you to want to do something like that with a-- someone like him was too much to hope for. He was just happy that you weren’t avoiding him like most others did; he wasn’t going to ask for more.
Except he kind of did want more, and he didn’t want to feel that. The disappointment was already tangible on his tongue and he swallowed it down every time he saw you in the hall, chatting or laughing with someone else. It would ease slightly when you would turn to look in his direction, flashing a smile and waving as you passed by. In class, you started sitting beside him, Bokuto and Akaashi often following behind, and he found his small group of friends growing because of you. Bokuto was loud and brash and treated him like they were best friends, and Akaashi’s quiet demeanor reminded him a lot of Ushijima. Except he was maybe a little more expressive.
You even started walking home with him, parting ways when you had to go in different directions with a soft smile and a shine in your eyes that he tried not to read too much into. He enjoyed those days, when no one else was around and he just talked. You even knew some of the manga he read, and he lost himself rambling about Jump. When he brought it up once, about how he talked too much, you shook your head frantically.
“No, no, I don’t mind! It reminds me of Bokuto, to be honest. He can talk about anything and keep a conversation going so easily. I’m kinda jealous,” you said, giving him that satisfied smile again.
He tried to clamp down on the feelings, to keep a tight rein on the emotions that kept trying to pull his eyes in your direction anytime he heard your voice or drew his thoughts to you late at night.
Sighing, he rubbed his eyes, frustrated at the fact that he was thinking of you a-fuckin’-gain. Didn’t he have enough to worry about without wondering what you thought of him? He already knew. You weren’t interested. It was fine.
His phone dinged, the screen lighting up to reveal your name and a text.
You: ‘watcha up to?’
Tendo: ‘nm. studying and suffering. you?’
Y: ‘“studying” sksks what’re you doing tomorrow night by chance?’
Tendo’s heart stuttered in his chest and he groaned, barely resisting the urge to fling his phone out the frost covered window in front of him. For the love of god, could the universe stop fucking with him? Clicking his tongue, he considered telling you he was busy. It would be easiest, and save him the disappointment that was sure to accompany whatever you had planned.
But his fingers were traitorous and typed out exactly what he didn’t want to say. Or so he told himself.
T: ‘nothin. what’re you thinkin?’
Y: ‘well...i’m thinkin about cannibals’
Tendou snorted at that and watched the three little dots appear again.
Y: ‘and u’
He choked and slammed his phone down on the desk, wincing and immediately picking it back up to check the damage. No, no way, he wouldn’t look at it like that. It wasn’t like that. You were just inviting him for the movie marathon in a totally platonic way.
Another message came in.
Y: ‘and me’
You were actually trying to kill him.
--
He could think of nothing the next day but how much he was looking forward to that night. Once he had finally gotten his shit together enough to text you back, the kinks had been worked out. It was almost a no brainer that he would be spending the night. A movie marathon with twelve movies meant an all-nighter, if the two of you could pull it off. He would go home after classes, while away the few hours until around six o’clock, and then head to the address you had given him.
Unfortunately, he didn’t see much of you that day. You shared no classes, and you had a class when he took lunch, so he ate with Semi and Bokuto that day. Instead you snuck texts to him when you could, mostly talking about how excited you were for that night. It didn’t help, somehow both fanning and soothing his inner turmoil.
“Why do you look like you’re gonna throw up?” Semi asked at last. Tendo was staring at his half-eaten chicken sandwich like it had mortally offended him, and he was curious.
Tendo jumped, having forgotten the other two were even with him, and shook his head. “Uh, nothin’.”
But Bokuto snickered and leaned in to whisper to Semi, who was already suspicious of his short, clipped answer. Whether he actually wanted to whisper or not, Tendo wasn’t sure, but Bo sure as shit didn’t manage it. “Him and _____ are gonna watch movies tonight.”
Of course you had told Bokuto. And probably Akaashi too. He wondered if they had changed their minds and decided to join you when they found out. It put a rather annoying feeling in his chest, like someone was squeezing his heart.
The other two were still talking in a loud whisper, watching Tendo’s expression shift and flicker through a myriad of emotions. Bokuto was lost, but Semi could recognize them after so many years of knowing the moody red-head, and wanted to laugh. He was so good at hiding his negative emotions, but when it came to sadness or happiness, he was like an open book. And he was being pretty obvious right then.
“Wow, that’s pretty big, Tendo,” he said, watching his friend closely. Tendo flinched, shrinking into his hoodie, and Semi nodded to himself. “Don’t let yourself get so worked up. She wouldn’t ask if she didn’t want to.”
He knew where Tendo’s insecurities were coming from. A childhood fraught with bullies and fake friends and people pretending they wanted him around only to treat him like a freak. Even through highschool it was that way, with a particularly nasty incident involving a girl pretending to want to date him that ended with Tendo refusing to come to school for almost a week. After that, he kept to himself and the volleyball club, refusing to even acknowledge that anyone else might actually want to get to know him seriously.
It had gotten a bit easier when he left Shiratorizawa and those memories and most of those people behind. Growing up with them was what had made it hardest, so surrounding himself with fresh people who didn’t have any preconceived notions and rumors about him had allowed him to open up a little. Even Ushijima, across the ocean in California, noticed a marked difference in Tendo’s demeanor.
Semi just hoped you didn’t do anything to send him spiralling back into his insecurities.
“Yeah, I guess.”
It was easy for Semi to say that, but he had no idea what it was like, constantly worrying if people were being serious or if they were just waiting to pull the rug out from under him. Even now, he was fighting with himself to just get through the day, waiting constantly for you to change your mind and cancel the plans. Every time his phone lit up with your name, he expected it.
And yet, even after his classes ended and he arrived home, you didn’t. Just commenting that you would be MIA for a while while you cleaned the apartment and went to the store. And when you came back a few hours later, while he was binging Buzzfeed Unsolved videos, his heart leapt into his throat, but you were only telling him what you had gotten for him and to pick up anything else he might want on the way over.
The time couldn’t pass by fast enough while he busied himself packing as slowly as he could. He was already wearing sweatpants but brought a pair of basketball shorts just in case. A clean t-shirt and the other essential items he would need for the night went into a backpack, and when that was done he decided it was a good time to leave.
Unable to help himself, he sent you a text before he left, interrupting whatever you were already typing, the three little bubbles disappearing for a moment while you read his text.
T: ‘you sure you’re alright with this? i don’t have to come over’
Y: ‘?’
Y: ‘do u not want to!’
Y: ‘?*’
Y: ‘we can do this another time if you want’
He was typing before he could really think about the possibility that that might be the best option, his heart thumping harder than he liked in his chest, and he willed himself to take a deep breath. It was just two friends hanging out, watching horror movies together. Nothing more.
T: ‘no i do. was just making sure you were still ok w it.’
T: ‘leaving now to get snacks. your choices s u c k’
Y: ofc hurry up and get over here
Y: ‘tf rude’
Locking the door behind him, he slung his bag onto his shoulder and sighed, hoping the night didn’t end as badly as his nerves were telling him it would.
--
Your doorbell rang an hour later, while you were in the middle of setting up your room for the binge. You were hoping he wouldn’t mind, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable either. It was hard to miss the nervousness and the way he seemed to shy away from you sometimes, especially when you did certain things like reach out to pull something off his hoodie or read something over his shoulder. But you wanted this to be as normal as possible, to prove to him you were genuine.
You liked Tendo. A lot.
He was funny and sweet and just as eccentric as you had expected. His jokes were off-color but not offensive, just sarcastic and witty and you giggled every time. The way his face lit up when he heard you sent your heart into a frenzy, and the way it fell and he seemed to shrink into himself a moment later hurt. It didn't feel like a rejection of you but instead a rejection of himself and you wondered if there was any way to help him understand that you didn’t want anything from him but for him to be himself.
Upon opening the door, you found it was only the pizza delivery man, and you smiled with disappointment, until you spotted a shaved red-head coming up behind him.
Tendo gulped when he spotted you in your open doorway, wearing woolen leggings and a t-shirt, exchanging a box of pizza for cash and smiling brightly at him over the man’s shoulder. Waving, he waited until the stranger was out of the way before he approached you.
“Hey,” he greeted, peering down at you before scanning the empty living room of your apartment over your head.
You were unsurprised to see the wariness in his eyes, bleeding into the smile he was forcing on his face. It was your first time seeing a look so fake on him and for the first time you wondered if this was really a good idea. But it was only movies. And you liked Tendo. It would be fine.
So you smiled and ushered him in with one hand, the box perched precariously on your other, and watched him shrink into himself like he always did when he came within touching distance of you until he had passed into the living room. Then he just stood there, peering around with that same suspicious look, eyes narrowed and mouth turned down at the corners.
“So, what do you think?” you asked, pretending you hadn’t seen it as you moved into the kitchen.
“It’s nice,” he answered, letting his bag hit the floor with a thump. The rest of the apartment was silent save for the heater going, and little by little he felt himself relaxing. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble for little ol’ me, y’know.”
You giggled at the way he pointed at himself, wearing a cheesy grin as he walked into the kitchen. “Maybe not, but it’s been ages since I’ve been able to do anything like this. It’s as much for me as it is for you.” You punctuated your statement by poking him lightly in the chest, and he feigned pain.
“You wound me. And here I thought you were treating me special,” he moaned, leaning back against the counter and placing his hand over his forehead. He grinned a little hearing you giggle again, and then the pizza box hit his arm.
“I am treating you special, you goof,” you said, opening it up and letting the smell of cheese fill the kitchen. “With pizza. But I think we’d better take it into the bedroom, since that’s where we’ll be watching the movies. Just in case we fall asleep, you know,” you tacked on at the end, suddenly realizing how that might sound. Not that it meant anything, but again, you feared making him uncomfortable.
Absorbed in your thoughts, you missed the faint dusting of pink on his cheeks, clashing marvelously with his vibrant hair. You carried the box down to your bedroom with Tendo on your heels, eager to see your room. It was about what he expected from you-- a messy bed, a cluttered desk, clothes half in your laundry basket and half on the floor surrounding it. The TV sitting on your dresser was already set up with The Hills Have Eyes menu playing, volume muted. You set the box on the bed before smoothing the covers and crawling on.
Tendo hovered in the middle of your room, casting his eyes around nervously, looking for a chair or something to sit on. He definitely did not want to assume, but you patted the bed beside you, giving him a quizzical look.
“I’m not gonna bite, Tendo. Promise,” you said, and though you made it sound like a joke he could hear a line of seriousness at the core. Running his tongue over the back of his teeth, he walked slowly towards you, giving you every opportunity to change your mind, but you just looked impatient until he climbed on beside you. “Alright, now let’s get this started!”
--
Two movies in and the two of you had gotten pretty comfortable. Both of you had stretched out on the bed, but you had decided to lean up against the headboard with your pillows to support you while Tendo had opted to lay on his stomach with his head resting on his arms by your feet.
“Would you stop?” he laughed, pushing your foot away where it had been tapping incessantly at his shoulder. You were just doing it to annoy him, and you giggled at the irritated amusement in his voice.
The pizza box sat empty on the floor by the bed, but you found yourself craving something else to eat. When you hummed, Tendo looked away from the screen, rolling onto his side and propping his chin in his hand to watch you nibble at your lip. It was cute, he couldn’t lie, and the anxiety he had repressed by getting distracted by the movie came back slowly.
“What’s up?”
“I’m thinkin’ about...those chips,” you answered, and made to get up. You had to crawl over his long legs and almost fell off the bed as you gracelessly made your move, knee slipping off the small space between his leg and the edge of the mattress. Sticking your tongue out as he laughed at you, you pranced towards the door.
“Bring my bags too, would you?” he called, pausing the movie since you had forgotten. It had just started, and you were lucky that he was nice enough to do it, especially when he heard your voice carry back down the hallway.
“Kiss my ass, Tendo.”
He laughed at that, loud enough that you could hear it from the kitchen and over the crinkling of the bags as you rifled through them. In the end, you shrugged and carried them all back down to your room, along with a few drinks. Maybe you wouldn’t have to get up again for a little while.
You shivered when you stepped back into the room. It wasn’t much warmer than the rest of the house, and now your arms and toes were cold. The heater was already set as high as it would go and hardly touched the chill, and you cursed the cheap piece of crap.
“What, you cold?” he asked, pulling out a bag of the chips he had brought with him. The tab on a can of soda popped and he cursed as it fizzed over onto your blanket. “Shit, sorry.”
“No worries. Yeah, kinda. But the heater is already on full blast. Ugh,” you said, sitting beside him on the bed again. He was still wearing his hoodie, and up close he was warm, making you realize just how cold you were. You were just gonna have to crawl under your blankets because you would never survive the cold like that. “Wait…”
There was a tent on the screen where the movie had paused, and Tendo looked back and forth from it to you with curiosity. There was a calculating look on your face and he wasn’t sure he liked it. “Uh, what?”
There was no way he would agree to it. Way too intimate, right? But it really seemed like it’d be right up his alley, and it would be fun to build, and it would get you warm. It was the perfect idea really.
“Tendo, how do you feel about making...a pillow fort?”
The heater continued to buzz in the corner, overlaid by the slight static from the TV, while Tendo processed your question. His mouth had fallen open, brows furrowed while he stared at you in what could only be surprise, and you laughed nervously.
“Wha-- Seriously?”
“Um, you know what, nevermind. I guess it was a stupid idea. It just seemed like it might be fun and--”
He cut your babbling off with an excited wave of his arms, leaning forward into your space and in the light from the TV you could see a childlike happiness glowing in his eyes. “I’ve never made one but it sounds like fun. You know how to do it?”
Stunned by the turn of events, you nodded. “Well, sort of. Mine have always fallen down after a while though,” you admitted, standing up from the bed again. “We need chairs and books and all the blankets and pillows we can find. And the couch cushions. Probably.”
In no time flat you had everything gathered, with Tendou hovering around waiting for you to direct him. It was a pain to get everything set up, and you ended up using the bed since you didn’t have enough chairs. Moving the chairs all over the place until there was enough room inside and you could put the books down to seal the ‘walls’ was tedious, but it was worth it when Tendo crawled in to set up the cushions to seal the space beneath the bed. After padding the floor with several blankets to lay on, you stuffed the pillows from your bed in after Tendo. When you didn’t immediately crawl in after him, he poked his head out to see what you were doing.
“Well, we didn’t think this through at all, so now we gotta watch the movies on my laptop,” you said as you ejected the DVD from your player. The jingle of your computer booting up played and backlit your face in the glow, and you prayed it wasn’t going to go right into an update. It took a few minutes to start up, so you passed it to him while you plugged the power cord in and ran it into the fort.
You could hear the clicking of the mousepad and by the time you flipped off the light and crawled in beside Tendo, the movie menu was playing. You also realized just how cramped it really was with Tendo’s lanky form inside. There was just enough space for both of you, but you were going to have to either sit up with it in your lap or you were going to have to set it to the side of you and lay on your sides.
He was tense, staring determinedly at the movie playing and trying to avoid moving too much. Or so you guessed, anyway. Anytime you so much as shifted he would jerk away before relaxing, and you were a split second away from nixing the idea. A part of you was starting to wonder if it wasn’t you that was the problem, but if it was, why had he bothered to agree?
“You’re really warm, Tendo,” you said, trying to break the ice. It was an awkward and clumsy attempt, but maybe you could help him settle down if you showed him you weren’t uncomfortable first?
But that just made him pull further away, leaning against the couch cushions. “Oh, sorry.”
It was already warm and comfortable in your little fort, a light blanket thrown over your knees and warming your toes. And with him beside you, you were actually a little more than comfortable. “No,” you said, waving your hands frantically, “no, like, it’s nice. I’m finally warm.”
It was hard to tell in the washed out light of the laptop, but Tendo’s face turned a very bright shade of pink. He tugged the neck of his hoodie up over his nose and fixed his eyes firmly on the flickering violence, annoyed that he was overwhelmed by something so simple. Why did you have to be so damn cute?
But it did the trick, even if he didn’t know that was your intention. He finally relaxed and stopped flinching every time you shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. Sitting cross legged only worked for so long and Tendo noticed you moving around after a while, when your knee knocked his for the third or fourth time.
“You alright? You’re about to bring the whole fort down,” he commented around a mouthful of chips.
“Ah, well, my back is starting to hurt sitting up, I guess. I wanna lay down,” you said, sounding whinier than you meant to, following it up with a short stretch. It alleviated the pain for a moment, until you hunched over again.
He swallowed his chips and returned his eyes to the TV screen, thinking. On one hand, he wasn’t exactly comfortable. On the other, he had no idea what you were thinking. Did you want to abandon the fort?
But you didn’t say anything, fiddling with the blanket for a few moments as you tried to work up your courage. You damn sure didn’t want to tear down your fort-- it had taken you way too long to put the stupid thing up-- and if you said the idea of cuddling up with Tendo wasn’t appealing, you would surely go to hell for lying. The underlying problem was him. What would he say if you brought up the obvious solution?
You were taking too long to answer, so Tendo prompted you, pausing the movie. “Do you want to just get back on the bed again?”
“No,” you said, and then flinched. You had answered way too quickly and that somehow made him nervous and reassured at the same time. “This is really nice I just…I-know-that-you’re-kind-of-uncomfortable-and-I-don’t-want-to-make-you-more-uncomfortable.”
Tendou stared at you, unblinking as he tried to decipher your breathlessly rushed words. After a moment he laughed, still confused, but he could see the anxiety on your face. “I-- what? All I heard was uncomfortable, I think. But you don’t make me uncomfortable.”
Your heart thumped painfully in your chest as that weight left your shoulders. He was so intuitive it was almost scary. Even still, you had to make sure. “Oh, really? You always seem like...weird around me, I guess. I was starting to think I was pushing too hard, I guess?”
“Sorry,” he said, scratching the back of his head. His elbow brushed the sheet above you and he quickly dropped it. “I’m used to people being uncomfortable around me. Guess it just turned into a habit to avoid people I don’t know. So that I don’t freak them out.”
Not entirely true, given that he enjoyed messing with people, but it was true in your* case. It took you a moment to answer, and he started to worry that he had said too much.
“You don’t...make me uncomfortable, Tendo. You never did. You’re a weirdo but not...in a bad way,” you said, and glanced at him to gauge his reaction, worried he would take it in a negative light.
But he was smiling, eyes fixed on the paused movie and you bit your lip. He was way too attractive and you couldn’t fathom anyone who thought otherwise. Clearly they were just cowards.
“Well that’s a relief. It would make things pre-tty awkward right now if I did,” he said and bumped your shoulder. It felt like a whole planet was lifted off his shoulders with this revelation and he heaved a huge sigh. “So, if we don’t want to abandon the fort but our backs are about to crumble, what do we do?”
“Uh.” You blanched, having forgotten about that little hiccup. Your idea was embarrassing to think about let alone explain and if you hadn’t made him uncomfortable yet this was sure to.
“Uh,” he mocked, and twisted around like a snake so his face was in front of you, blocking the light from the screen. “Spit it out before we collapse.”
“Just-- um--” you stuttered, and he quickly realized whatever your idea was, it had you flustered. He was just about to start teasing when you picked up the laptop and set it to the side of you. Rolling over onto your side, you tucked your hand underneath your pillow and relaxed, feeling the pain immediately alleviate. “Now you lay down. If you want.”
Your heart was racing in your chest, waiting for him to do something. It was a long, long minute before he finally said anything, and it wasn’t what you expected. Not that you had any idea of what to expect.
“Uh, are you sure? I mean, we could just--” What was he thinking? This was exactly what he wanted and wasn’t it Semi who had said she wouldn’t ask if she didn’t want it? Did he really have to overthink everything? You were in a literal pillow fort watching scary movies with him, offering to let him cuddle up with you, and he still thought you weren’t sure.
“Well, unless you aren’t,” you said, and was that disappointment in your voice? No way.
“No no, no. I’m gonna take my hoodie off first, though. It’s way too warm in here now,” he said, backtracking quickly. Then again, maybe it was just him that was too hot. It was an actual dream come true, and he pinched himself quickly just to make sure he wasn’t asleep.
You rolled over onto your back to watch him struggle, his arms brushing the ceiling and walls of your warm little haven as he fought the hoodie. Your eyes widened as it finally came free, seeing the colorful swirls of ink covering his arms. “Holy shit.”
“Wha--?” he said, and turned to find you staring open mouthed at his tattoos. “Oh, right, I guess you haven’t seen these before, huh?”
“Nope,” you said, sitting up and squinting to see the undefined shapes in the faint light. It was almost cute the way he held his arm out to you hesitantly, like a child offering you a drawing to examine and praise. Taking it, you traced the lines covering his smooth, warm skin, trying to figure out what they were. But the shapes were undefinable in the faint light. You could make out splashes of blue and purple, red and pink, separated by black lines or faded together to make something. Part of you wanted to ask, but there was something mysterious about not knowing. “I can’t even tell what they are but god, Tendou, I know they’re gorgeous.”
He shivered at your featherlight touches, the feel of your fingers skimming delicately over his skin, and your words caused fire to erupt in his stomach and chest. His tattoos were something he was extremely proud of, one of the few things he had that made him feel confident, and hearing you compliment them made him feel so fucking good. Chucking his jacket out into the room, he returned to your side and the two of you got comfortable.
Pressing play on the movie for the 3rd time, the two of you fell silent. With your head below his chin, it was the perfect position for him to see the screen over you. You could feel the warmth rolling off of him, only an inch of space between his chest and your back, and both of you were well aware of it.
It was nearly impossible to focus on the movie, trying to reign in the urge to just slide back a little bit and mold yourself to him. Nibbling at your lip, you rolled just a little under the pretense of stretching and bumped into him. Just your arm into his, and he didn’t move away.
“You good? Need more space? I can crawl under the bed if you want,” he said, smirking at you. He thought he knew what you were playing at, but your next words confirmed it. It was the oldest trick in the book and, even though no one had ever used it on him, he had seen it at work with Semi and Shirabu too many times.
“Just stretching. I’m still a bit cold though,” you said, facing the TV again.
Suppressing a snicker, knowing damn well that wasn’t what you were after, he offered, “I can get you another blanket, if you need it.”
The silhouette of your shoulders fell, and you couldn’t hide the sigh that accompanied it. “It’s alright, Tendo. It’s not that bad.”
You really should have seen that coming, you guessed. The swell of hope and the crash of disappointment was painful in your chest, and you tried to focus on the movie again, ignoring the tempting warmth at your back. If he wasn’t interested, he wasn’t interested. It was cool.
Which was why you jumped when a weight settled over your side, a snicker filtering behind you as he molded himself to your back. It was slow, hesitant, and you would guess he was trying to make sure you were alright with it. Warmth seeped through your t-shirt and you sighed happily, shimmying back into him out of instinct, and this time you could feel his quiet laughter in his chest.
His arms were so long that he had to fold it in front of you, hand coming to rest just underneath your chin, and when you relaxed so did he. With his chin resting atop your head now, he asked, “Better? This is what you wanted, right?”
“Shut up,” you whined, hiding your face in your hand. It was embarrassing enough without him having to tease you about it. But you supposed it wouldn’t be Tendo if he didn’t make fun of you for everything. It was so easy after that to focus on the movie, now that you had gotten what you wanted. The snacks lay forgotten near your feet, not wanting to move and mess up the delicate balance that was now between the two of you.
It was tenuous and any small movement from either of you could send it toppling in either direction, and you weren’t even sure what it depended on. You knew for sure which way you would like to see it go, but it was just as comfortable the way it was.
Silence fell again until the movie ended, which was the only reason you moved. You could probably have fallen asleep like that, but you weren’t ready yet, wanting to bask in whatever you had with Tendo for a while longer.
When you sat up to change the next movie, Tendo rolled over onto his back, watching you fiddle around with it. Sweat beaded on the back of his neck and he shifted uncomfortably. Seemed you felt the same because you turned to look at him, an apology written on your face.
“Sorry, do you mind if I go change into shorts. It’s actually too warm for these now,” you said, setting the DVD case back on the pile. You felt like you were suffocating in your thick winter leggings now, but if he wasn’t okay with that then you would suffer a little longer. At least until you melted.
“Oh thank god you said something. I was about to die in these sweatpants, I swear,” he answered, fanning his face with his hand. You were pretty sure he was just exaggerating that though. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”
“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’, and crawled towards the escape flap, wincing at the sound of crunching and crinkling under your knees all of a sudden. “Oops.”
“Oh those had better not have been mine,” he whined, flashing the light of his phone towards the bag. He groaned, seeing his bag of doritos crushed. He could hear you snicker outside the sheet as you walked away and growled, “Watch it. Yours are still in here, _____.”
You opened a drawer as he finally came out as well and began rifling through his bag, pulling out the pair of shorts he’d packed. When you turned around with a pair of soft shorts in your hands, you found him standing awkwardly in the middle of your room again and laughed. “I’ll go change in the bathroom. I gotta use it anyway. I’ll be right back.”
Your footsteps receded down the hall and he raced to get changed before you came back. His sweats landed on his backpack and he shrugged at himself. What did it matter, so long as they weren’t on your floor?
The sound of the sink reached his ears just as he was climbing back into the fort, frowning at his crushed chips even as he shoved a handful into his mouth. He was so gonna make you pay for a new bag, especially because you had laughed. The door creaked open and the flap shifted, and he almost choked on his chips as he realized just how short your shorts were. Were your legs always that long? And smooth? And pretty? Shit.
“How are your chip fragments?” you joked as you made yourself comfortable beside him again. Your hair fanned out behind you and you gathered it up off the base of your neck, twisting it around so that it spread out above you instead. How the fuck was the back of your neck sexy*?
He was so screwed.
“Uh,” he replied. Smooth, Satori. Shaking his head, he tried to gather his thoughts and focus them literally anywhere else. It worked. Sort of. “Pointy. You owe me a new bag.”
You scoffed, smiling at the car full of vacationing teenagers on the laptop. “There’s like four other bags in here. Quit whining.”
But he wasn’t giving it up, throwing his bag into the corner and hopefully out of the way of your carelessness. Settling behind you like he had before, he once again left space between you, afraid now of how his body might react if he didn’t. “No, all of them suck.”
You definitely noticed the gap and wondered if he was just waiting for you to take the initiative, so you did. Before he could blink, you were once again molded to his chest, head tucked under his chin and knees folded around his. He tensed, fingers curling into a fist while he willed himself to chill.
His arm came down around you again, but you could feel how stiff he was. When you made to move forward again, to give him space, his arm locked, even pulling you back again and you grinned. With his arm now lit up properly by the light of the laptop, you realized you could see the tattoos more clearly, and began to trace the stars and fish on his arm.
“Aren’t these the spirit fish from Avatar?” you asked, skimming over the white and black koi. It was a watercolor piece, lacking the heavy lines like the ones on his other arm, and you felt him nod against the top of your head. “They’re gorgeous. Who’s your artist?”
“A friend of mine in Miyagi did those,” he answered, watching you continue to trail up his arms. Goosebumps were raising the fine hairs all over his body, your touches so gentle and intimate, your focus rapt. Higher up near his elbow was what appeared to be two jolly rogers, but they weren’t the normal ones. “Those are from a pirate manga I read in Jump,” he said before you could ask, and you smoothed your hand over them before sliding it back up near his hand.
His heart skipped a beat when your fingers curled into his palm, hesitating before you slipped them between his. He was sure you could feel his heart pounding away in his chest, unaware that you couldn’t because yours was racing fast enough that you were lightheaded. Folding his fingers down over your hand locked them together, but you didn’t try to pull away. If anything, you tried to cuddle up closer to him, dragging your hands so that they were pressed to your chest. It was the most intimate thing he had experienced in recent memory and if his heart didn’t slow down it was going to explode.
The movie wasn’t holding his interest and a new question cropped up in his mind, one he had wondered more than once before tonight and he couldn’t figure out why he thought of it now, but he latched onto it because otherwise he really thought he was going to combust. Besides, it would ease some of his insecurity if he got an answer.
“What took you so long to set this up, anyway? I kind of thought you had changed your mind for a while,” he said, staring at the screen. He was sort of taking it in, an anchor point so he didn’t get lost in his thoughts.
Your chest rumbled against his hand when you hummed, and your answer was so mundane and rational that he almost laughed. “Well a part of it was wanting to get to know you a bit before we did this. Didn’t want to invite a total stranger to spend the night, after all. And then it was just a matter of waiting for my roommates to freakin’ leave.”
“Oh, are your roommates actually gone*?” he asked in surprise. He had thought they were just out for the night and would be home-- probably not soon, given the time, but still. “Like, for the weekend?”
You hummed again in agreement, twirling the ends of your hair absently around your fingers. You were locked onto the movie, absorbed as Leatherface chased one of the characters he didn’t care about through the yard. He fell quiet, thinking you wanted to watch uninterrupted, but then you asked, “That’s alright, right? They would have just wanted to join in otherwise and they can’t stand horror movies either, so they would’ve just talked through it.”
Exactly like he was doing, he realized, and his face grew hot. Hopefully he hadn’t already annoyed you. He nodded, responding in a much quieter voice. “It’s fine. Was just surprised, I guess.”
For a while, neither of you said anything and Tendo managed to focus on the movie, feeling you jump and twitch every once in a while at scares you weren’t expecting. Unfortunately, those movements were brushing against areas that he really didn’t need them too and your shorts did nothing to diminish the curve of your ass against him or the slowly growing hard on he was getting. It didn’t help that every time he shifted even a little you would just follow him, as if he wasn’t pinned by your hand holding his.
But shit, if he didn’t move soon he was going to be screwed. The bathroom-- that would get him out of there before he embarrassed the fuck out of himself.
It was too late, though. You flinched and ground your ass back into him and he groaned before he could help it. You froze, he froze, he just really wanted to die.
“I-- Sorry. I’m really sorry,” he said, tugging at his hand to try and escape. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but the best option was probably to leave and transfer to a school in a whole different country. He could already hear your words now, an echo of so many times before, the sting of disappointment a familiar feeling around his heart.
“I’m sorry, Tendo. I just don’t see you that way.”
It was because he was a freak with a weird name and creepy eyes and-- fuck. It was high school all over again, being rejected by someone he genuinely thought liked him only to find out they were using him to get to Ushijima or pretending to as a fucking joke, only this time Ushijima wasn’t around and he had really gotten himself into it by agreeing to any of this.
But you were refusing to let his hand go, holding so tight he thought his fingers might break, saying his name until he came back down from his panicked high.
“Tendo, Tendo, calm down, please,” you were begging. You had rolled onto your back, unable to sit up because you were using both your hands to keep him from jumping up and taking the whole fort down. You could see it on his face when he finally heard you, wide vermillion eyes locking with yours while his heart continued to race.
He remained propped up on his elbow, ready to run at the first opportunity, and you almost felt bad for antagonizing him as much as you had. If you had known your teasing was going to get him this riled up, you would have tried a different tactic-- or not tried it at all. Maybe you had pushed too far too soon, and the skittish look in his pretty eyes worried you that you had ruined it.
“It’s alright, Tendo,” you said, trying to keep your voice quiet and soothing. It felt an awful lot like you were dealing with a wary animal-- like a coyote or a fox. When the insistent tension in his arm faded is when you relaxed your death grip on his fingers.
The sound of the movie was too loud in the unnatural silence between you, and you rolled over to turn it down. When it was only a background buzz, you turned back to him. He was still staring at you without blinking, his eyes devoid of the panic from earlier but now they were eerily blank.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, deadpan. He flinched when you took his hand again, forehead scrunching in confusion. “I don’t understand. There’s no way you-- What are you doing?”
It was your turn to be confused, pursing your lips at him. He sounded so lost-- and wary again-- like a child. For the first time, you wondered what his childhood had actually been like. He talked an awful lot about Ushiwaka and Semi, and the volleyball club in general, but you heard nothing outside of that. It made you suspicious now.
“What am I doing?” you parroted, finally sitting up. Your joined hands fell into your lap and you stared down at them, petting the back of his hand with your free one. “Do you not want me to?”
His words were stuck in his throat, trapped by the lump there, and he swallowed thickly. His mouth felt like cotton, and he shook his head, croaking out, “It isn’t that. I just don’t understand why.”
“Why what?” you asked, gentle amusement in your voice. There was no teasing, no malicious undertones that he could hear, like you were waiting to spring the final part of the joke on him. And he was listening for it. After years of dealing with it, he had learned to recognize it in people’s words and on their faces. The way their lips would curl and their eyes would narrow just before cruelty would spew from their mouths, he knew the tells and you--
Had none.
There was nothing but open curiosity and nervousness-- and hope. A lot of hope swirled in your eyes and he swallowed again. He was just going to disappoint you. If not tonight then tomorrow, if not tomorrow then next week. It was going to happen--
“Why do you like me? How do you like me? I’m-- weird. And you’re--” He gestured frantically up and down at all of you. You weren’t anything he was-- a freak. With freaky eyes and a freaky name and a freaky personality.
“I-- um,” you said, and you couldn’t help but smile. There was clearly a lot of baggage with him, and his questions made that obvious. It was likely too much to unpack tonight, especially when you were still only just getting to know each other. Reassurance was what he needed, and that was something you could offer on the spot. “You’re funny...and sweet and...very good looking. Your eyes are so pretty. Um, there’s also the fact that you’re the only person who would watch these movies with me, which earns you a lot of points, in my opinion,” you said, tapping your lips as you stared up at the ceiling.
Your face was on fire as you listed things off the top of your head, your throat tight with anxiety as you wondered what he would say in response. They were all surface level things for now, but you knew underneath the armor that there was a lot more to Tendo, and you hoped you had a chance to discover it.
He groaned low in his throat, not from disgust but from a deep seated need to believe you meant those things. His forehead met your shoulder, his fingers squeezing yours. He didn’t fight it when you eased back down, following after you without a word, leaving his face hidden in your neck. He was still trying to gather his thoughts and calm his overworked heart. It would be so easy to reject you and be on his way, to return home and beat himself up for letting himself get too close and too comfortable with you when he knew nothing would come of it.
Except something had come of it and he wasn’t sure what to do now. Semi and Ushijima always told him he was too closed off and that someone was going to come around who actually liked him and his ‘weird ass’ and that he was going to lose that chance because of some stupid high school assholes. Was he though? He wanted to believe you, wanted to trust you, and slowly he relaxed, his stress leaving him in a long, tired exhale.
“You mean it?” he whispered against your neck, and you could feel his lashes tickle your skin when he blinked. His arm was heavy where his hand rested on your stomach, fingers intertwined with yours, and you squeezed his hand as tight as you could.
“I do. I like you and really want a chance to get to know you better,” you whispered back, and it suddenly felt like no one existed but the two of you, protected from everything in the world outside by a few sheets and each other's warmth. There would be things to discuss and hiccups to overcome, but you could worry about those tomorrow. In that moment, all you wanted was to prove to Tendo you wanted him.
Maybe it was your words, whispered softly into the dark, or your hand gripping his for dear life, or the way you let him cling to you like a lifeline, or maybe it was a combination, but when he pulled back from his hiding place and found you staring at him, he slotted his lips against yours without thinking. Your lips parted almost immediately, free hand sliding out from between your bodies to tangle in the close cropped hair at the nape of his neck and you used it to pull yourself closer.
When your tongue poked out to glide across the seam of his lips, he let you in on a breath, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. His eyes were squeezed shut tight as your tongue met his, praying that what was happening wasn’t a dream, and he wasn’t expecting it when you gasped and pulled away all of a sudden.
His eyes popped open and he stared down at you with panic. “What? Did I do something wrong?”
“I-- forgot you have a tongue ring,” you said, and the laughed. “Fuck, that’s hot.”
He blinked like an owl, eyes wide as he processed your words. It wasn’t something that he had ever expected to hear in his life, let alone from the girl he was half-making out with in a freakin’ pillow fort. He suddenly wondered if his life had turned into a Shounen Jump manga.
“Well, so are you,” he said, and leaned in for another kiss.
It was kind of hot to see him confident and you felt heat pool in your stomach, starting to bleed further down as his tongue slipped into your mouth again. He tasted like the root beer he had been drinking all night, and you couldn’t resist toying with the piercing, swirling your tongue around it and listening to him moan against your mouth.
Your shirt had ridden up your stomach as you moved around, trying to get closer to him, and neither of you realized it until Tendo’s hand smoothed over your skin. He froze mid-kiss, waiting for your reaction, and was unsurprised when your hand grabbed his.
What he didn’t expect was for you to guide it upwards, letting go when you hit your ribs to cup his cheek. Pulling back just enough that he could speak against your lips, he asked, “Are you sure?”
“Frankly, Tendo,” you said, and kissed him again before you continued, “I haven’t wanted anyone this bad in forever. Even if we wake up tomorrow and change our minds, I am fucking sure right now.”
He groaned, letting his hand hike your shirt up a little higher until his hand cupped under your breast. He wasn’t sure when you had taken your bra off, or maybe you hadn’t been wearing one the whole time, but there was nothing impeding his skin from caressing yours. Your breast was so soft in his hand, topped by a pretty pink nipple that he couldn’t resist pinching. You mewled underneath him, pulling your shirt up to uncover your other breast and he moved to that one, doing the same and feeling your nipple harden at his touch.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he rasped, gazing down the length of your body. Your thighs were clenched, and his hand migrated lower, fingertips skimming over your skin.
The heat that was pooling earlier erupted when they met the waistband of your shorts, but he paused, looking unsure again.
“Tendo, I’ll show you how much I want this,” you whispered and grabbed his hand. He was still hesitant, looking at your face as you slid his hand into your panties, and his eyes widened.
“You’re so wet,” he groaned, his fingers gliding over your soaked lips, spreading your slick all over them. His fingers quickly found your clit, circling it and you squeezed his hand between your thighs, hips jerking. “All because of me? I’m flattered.”
Teasing at your soaked opening, he waited for you to balk but you only twitched, panting against his lips before he sunk one finger in, your walls parting easily. You moaned and he swallowed it in a kiss, his tongue filling your mouth again. It wasn’t long before he was fitting a second finger, crooking them up and grazing your sweet spot, his thumb taking over massaging your clit as he pumped them inside you. Your arousal was already high enough that you could feel your orgasm coming on, and you pulled away to announce it.
“T-Tendo, gonna--” You gasped when he forced them in deeper, a mischievous smirk on his face as he prodded your cervix. “How-- fuck, your fingers are so long,” you whined, toes curling.
“Think you can take one more?” he asked, already fitting the tip of a third finger in. But it was only when you nodded, tears pricking the corners of your eyes that he slipped it in. Your teeth dug into your lip before they parted in a soundless cry.
The coil snapped on the first thrust and he groaned, drinking in your face as he tipped you over the edge. No one had ever cum so prettily for him before and he wanted to see it again.
But only if you wanted it. His cock throbbed painfully in his shorts when he pulled his fingers from your twitching hole, feeling you shudder against him. Examining his glistening fingers in the screen light, he slid one experimentally into his mouth and moaned. “You taste so good, princess.”
You gasped at the pet name, a warmth unrelated to the one between your legs blooming in your chest. He said it was such reverence that you flushed, hoping he’d say it again at some point. Never had anyone called you that before, at least in that context.
When he laid back down beside you, his erection brushed against your leg and he stifled a groan. He was wearing boxers but the friction against his cock was still a pleasurable sensation. Not as much as your hand might be--
Speaking of hands, he nearly jumped out of his skin when you cupped him, squeezing and kneading up the length of him confined in his clothes. A shaky breath ripped out of him, the result of him barely containing a moan, and his long fingers wrapped around your wrist to stop you.
“That’s alright, _____. You don’t have to--” But you weren’t listening and the pressure felt too good. His head fell back, eyes fluttering closed, content to let you literally massage his dick until you started tugging at his shorts. He stopped you more insistently then, pulling your hand away. “Wait a second. Let me get ‘em off since you’re so eager, princess.”
He pulled his shirt over his head first, because it was getting way too hot in there anyway, and then kicked his shorts and boxers off into the dark corner. His cock bobbed against his stomach as he rolled onto his side again, leaking precum already.
Your hand was soft against his stomach, roaming over the hard planes of his abs and down further, until it wrapped lightly around his head.
And froze.
“What the-- Tendo, what are those?” you asked in a high pitched, startled tone. Before he could answer, you let go and rolled onto your back, exposing him to the light and you thought for sure you had died and gone to heaven.
It wasn’t just his arms that were covered in ink. His shoulders, chest, and sides were all covered in it as well, swirls and splashes of color interrupted by splotches of black or white or skin. You could hardly make out what the images were in the flickering, inconsistent light, but you recognized flowers and circles, and on his pec you were pretty sure there was a scene of a lake bathed in moonlight. And as your eyes followed the path of colors down, you landed on the thing that had startled you in the first place.
“Those are--” you breathed, taking his cock into your hand again. There was a ball at the tip, covered in precum, and you knew if you traced down, you would find another just below the crown. Further down on his shaft were five horizontal barbells in a row, and you recognized it as a Jacob’s Ladder. “Fuck me.”
“Gladly,” Tendo quipped and pounced. He settled between your legs and tugged your shorts down over your hips, and you had to hold your legs up to let him pull them the rest of the way off. He was too tall to sit straight up without brushing his head against the ceiling, but he braced back on his arms when you grabbed his shaft again. He groaned when you fondled the ball below his crown, shuddering at the intense pleasure. It was one of the major reasons he’d gotten it- to enhance the sensations. But the feel of your fingers gliding over his tip, gathering the precum and nudging the ball was something else entirely. “Holy shit, that feels amazing.”
His voice sent shivers through you, deep and raspy and way too needy. But you were unsure of what would hurt him, so you kept your touches light, feeling his thighs tense under yours, his fingers squeezing your calves as he let you explore. Before long though, he was pulling your hand away, pinning it down at your side. “Can’t keep that up, princess. I need more, if you’re alright with it,” he said, letting his cock settle against your cunt.
The piercings were warm and pronounced against your folds, and you shuddered when the ball under his head grazed your clit. The thought of them inside you, rubbing all along your walls as he fucked you was too much and you could feel yourself growing wetter, your pussy drooling for it.
“Yes, Tendo, please. I want it, I want to feel them inside me,” you begged, rocking your hips. The stimulation was mind blowing and your walls clenched, empty and needy for him to fill you up. And he would, his cock was huge-- he still had room for more piercings below the ones he had. You had no doubt you would be stretching to take him and you keened in the back of your throat.
“I want you to call me Satori, princess. And I need you to let me know if it’s uncomfortable,” he said, pressing the tip of his cock into your sopping hole. “Sometimes they make it hurt, but you’re so fucking wet I don’t think it will. You really like these, huh?”
You were really just answering his question as you said yes, but a stream of them fell out of your mouth as he pushed the rest of his cock inside you, encouraging him to continue. The stretch was so good, your walls splitting easily for him, and you could feel every ball just like you had imagined grazing against your walls. The ball at his slit rested snugly against your cervix, and you didn’t even realize you were screaming as you came, hips jerking in his hands as he let you ride it out.
He was staring at you with what could only be awe, his mouth slack and eyes wide with surprise. “Holy fuck, princess, did you just cum?”
Your breaths were coming in pants as your mind spun, trying to come down from the unexpected high. It came on so suddenly you had no time to prepare, and tears slid down your cheeks. “F-Feels so good,” you whispered, fingers digging into the blanket beneath you. “Satori, oh my god.”
“Are you alright? We can stop--” he said, but you shook your head frantically, locking your ankles around his back, and he laughed under his breath. You sure were something else. He knew for a fact no one had ever come just from him sliding into them and a swell of pride filled his chest. “No? Alright, whatever you want, princess. Can I move?”
This time you nodded and he was slow as he pulled back, making sure you were okay. You were so tight around him from your orgasm, your walls fluttering with overstimulation, but your back arched when he stuffed himself back in, a breathy moan slipping out of you. Hiking your legs higher up on his hips, he bent over you, gathering your hands and pinning them above your head, lacing his fingers with yours. His lips met yours as he thrust into you slowly, grinding deep and stifling a moan. Once again you were playing with his tongue ring, flicking it as you suckled on his tongue. The fort-- and probably the room-- was filled with the wet slap of his hips on yours every time he drove his cock into you, drowning out the low buzz of the forgotten movie still playing. He was being careful, waiting for you to stop being so sensitive, and he knew you were ready when you arched into his chest and pulled away.
“So good, Satori,” you murmured against his lips, hips rising to meet his. Your eyes were glazed and fucked out, tears still flowing and you could already feel the start of another orgasm, but he was moving too slow. The drag and pull of his piercings had almost all of your attention, the ball at his tip constantly tapping your cervix, making your toes curl with every thrust. “You’re so big, and those-- fuck-- piercings feel so good inside me. I can feel them all everywhere.”
He snickered darkly at that and kissed your cheek. “You wanna feel even better, kitten?” he whispered into your ear, nipping the shell. He could feel you nod against his cheek, nails digging into his hands where he kept them pinned above your head, and then he was letting them go and pulling out of you. You whined, staring up at him in dismay, but he already had your thighs in his hands, prodding you to roll over. “Trust me, pretty girl. On your stomach, just like that.”
It was a bit difficult to get comfortable, but he grabbed a pillow and jammed it beneath your hips before settling with his legs outside of yours. And when you shook your ass, begging him to hurry up, he couldn’t deny you, not when he wanted to be back inside your tight heat so badly.
“Holyshitholyshitholyshit,” you whined, high-pitched and breathless as he finally filled you again. His thighs trembled as he forced himself not to just stuff himself into you, you were so tight. And the way you were crying and shuddering beneath him wasn’t helping, especially when you gasped his given name like a prayer. “*Satori, oh my god.”
If you thought those piercings felt good before, you were in heaven now. Everyone of them dragged slowly over the front wall of your cunt, grinding into your sweet spot and you had to bite the pillow to keep from outright screaming. And he was so, so, so big inside you, but with your legs trapped between his there was nothing you could do but take him. Against your will, your legs kicked, hitting him in the back as you wailed into the pillow, tears streaming down your cheeks in an endless flood.
He snarled into your ear as he planted his elbows beside your head, plastering himself to your back. “You are so fucking tight, princess. How do those piercings feel now?”
“So good so good so good,” you babbled, circling your hips back on his dick to get any friction you could. The orgasm that had been building came back ten fold just from him hilting inside of you and you knew that if he fucked you like this you would be cumming in seconds. “‘Tori, please move, please please please.”
Your needy begging made his cock twitch and you whimpered as he slowly pulled out of you and pushed back in, intentionally slow to let you feel everything. The pleasure was ebbing and flowing, building and falling because he wasn’t moving fast enough, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to go faster, not when you could feel him so clearly. Every time he bottomed out, he made sure to grind down into you, nudging your cervix with the tip of his cock so he could feel you clench suddenly around him. It never failed to make him moan, your slick walls gripping him so tightly as he dragged himself back out. He wanted to make your pussy his new home and barring that he was going to fuck the shape of his cock into you.
“Tell me what you need to make you cum, princess,” he whispered into your ear. He knew what he needed, but he was still learning what would make you feel good.
Releasing the pillow from your teeth, the first thing you did was moan out his name again as he buried himself inside you again. You were so close to cumming, your clit throbbing with need and if he even brushed it you were going to be gushing all over him. You gasped as he thrust a little harder than before.
“If you don’t answer me I’ll just keep going like this, kitten. I can go for hours, if you want,” he whispered, warm against your ear. That made you twitch underneath him, and he chuckled. “You like the sound of that? We’ll try it another time. Right now, I need you to tell me where you want me to cum and how I can make you cum, okay?”
His words were dark and sweet and coaxing, and you were sure you had never whined so much in your whole life. “Touch me, please, Satori. I wanna cum all over your cock and pretty piercings while you cum in me, oh fuck.”
Bracing himself on his elbow, he forced his hand beneath your stomach, aided by you lifting your hips, and you whimpered when he finally, finally brushed your clit. It was all it took and you had to bite the pillow again as you creamed all over his cock, whiting out and screaming into it as you shuddered and jerked. He eased you through it, leaving his cock buried inside you while he fondled your clit, listening to you whimper and moan. It was a good thing you had hidden your face because you would surely have woken the whole complex up otherwise.
He groaned into your ear as you massaged his cock, so tight that you launched him into his own orgasm, cumming inside you as you had asked. He remained still inside of you even after you had relaxed, leaving small kisses all over your hair before he leaned down to rest his head on the pillow. He had fucked you so slowly that he hadn’t broken a sweat, and yet he was still out of breath and panting. His head swam for several more minutes, until you shifted beneath him. But you didn’t move like you wanted him to get off.
Instead, you turned to look at him, a lazy, blissed out grin on your face and said, “Holy shit, that was so amazing. I’ve never cum so many times.”
“So were you. I’ve never made someone cum so many times,” he admitted, and replayed the way you came just because he had filled you. That was something he was unlikely to ever forget. He brushed some hair out of your face before leaning in to kiss you. It was slow and gentle, belying how tired the two of you now were, and he could see you were ready to fall asleep. “Gonna pull out of you now, princess. Need you to stay nice and relaxed, okay?”
You nodded, your eyes closing and winced as he slid from your ruined hole. A stream of cum followed after and he took a moment to appreciate it, allowing a smirk to steal across his face. There was no doubt you were his now, at least for a little while, and he committed it all to memory before gently gripping your shoulders. “We should really get cleaned up, then we can go to sleep.”
You grumbled cutely but let him help you up, the both of you stumbling blindly to the bathroom. Sleepiness was a thick fog, and you got cleaned up as quickly as possible before returning to the room. The two of you stood in the doorway, looking at the mess of nonsense covering the bed, and then you looked at Tendou.
“Let’s just sleep in there,” you suggested, taking him by the hand. He let you lead him over, watching the way your ass swayed as you crawled into the fort for hopefully the final time that night. In the few minutes it had taken him to get in after you, you had already pulled a blanket over your legs and were setting up the next movie to play. Not that you would be watching it, but he understood it was the principle of the thing. This was a movie marathon and it just wouldn’t do to fall asleep without being in the middle of one.
Once he’d gotten comfortable behind you, you rolled over and splayed out across his chest, startling him. He had expected to curl himself around your back while you went to sleep, but now you were tracing what lines you could see on his chest in the thin light. His hand rested on your waist, the other tucked behind his head, and he closed his eyes, comfortable with your warmth and weight in his arms.
“Satori,” you murmured, your hand falling flat right over the picture of the lake. “I really do like you.”
He laughed at that, and you could feel it rumble in your ear, deep in his chest. He was clearly as tired as you were, but you needed to say it. There was something in your half asleep brain that would not stop telling you to say it, and you were in no position to fight it.
“I figured as much, princess. Three orgasms are hard to fake, especially around a dick as big as mine,” he answered, and you blanched for a moment before erupting into laughter. He watched you through narrow eyes, fondness bubbling in his chest, until you settled back down against him. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, you know that?”
“So’re you,” you murmured. The nagging had stopped now that you had said what you needed too, and you were falling asleep quickly. “Don’t be gone when I wake up tomorrow, okay?”
“It already is tomorrow, and I’ll be here. There’s nowhere else I wanna be anyway,” he answered, letting his eyes close as well. With your comfortable weight on his chest and your even breathing mixing with the buzzing of the movie in the background in his ears, he drifted to sleep in no time, for once not worrying about what tomorrow would bring.
⇥ masterlist
⇥ taglist: @visaintes, @kunimwuah
#tendo x reader#tendou x reader#tendo satori x reader#satori tendo x reader#tendou satori x reader#satori tendou x reader#haikyuu x reader#.monster
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Drivers License Pt. 2 (Ron Weasley)
a/n: You guys absolutely went off for part 1, thank you so so much!! Someone requested that I make a part 2 where y/n finally gets a happy ending, but without ron so I decided to kind of run with the idea, this time sort of from ron’s point of view.
disclaimer: the timeline in the books/movie are gonna line up in this one. I know they didn’t have a seventh year and i know ron kissed lavender before winter but this is obv not cannon, go with it, also fred dying was a prank anyway so YOU THOUGHT it would be included. absolutely not.
After taking y/n’s affection for granted, Ron realizes he’s made a huge mistake when she’s moved on to be happy without him
warning(s): cussing, sadness, broke my own heart writing this
Pay attention to the gif, keep it in your mind towards the end.
Part 1
___________________
And all my friends are tired
Of hearing how much I miss you, but
I kinda feel sorry for them
'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do
It took a long time for you to move on from Ron, you didn’t have to look very far to do so. Ginny had told off Ron one night for hurting you without realizing the twins were awake and hearing all the nasty things Ron put you through. By that point he and Hermione were no longer together, she realized he was too good of a friend to lose to a ‘stupid school relationship.’ So now he was alone, completely clueless to the fact that someone else had begun pining over you.
“Merlin, not this again.” Harry groans into his textbook. The wizarding world was on the verge of destruction and all Ron could speak about was how much he missed you. “Ron, we get it you fucked up with her, get over it.”
The boys had heard the same speech everyday. He would first start off with ‘I know I say this a lot’ then go onto name the things he misses most about you. Your hair, your eyes, your laugh, how small your hands are compared to his. He then groans about how stupid he is for, well, everything.
“I never heard you talk about her before now,” Dean adds, actually semi-invested in the drama that surrounded Ron’s love life. “Whats so special about her anyway?”
How could he even begin to explain what was so special about you. As much as he wished he could say he lied to you about everything he said to you, how easy it would be if he never gave a shit about you, that just isn’t the case. You had this way of making him feel safe whenever he held you. He wasn’t lying when he told you that you felt like home, he just didn’t mean to say it to soon. Maybe that was the reason he decided to kiss Lavender Brown, knowing you were watching. He wanted to push you away in the most hurtful way possible that you never even thought about coming back to him, but immediately regretted that decision.
You also had this weird hold on him, even when he was with Hermione, he would catch a glimpse of your smile and his heart would drop into his stomach. He would see your eyes sparkle in the light of the living room fire place when you were visiting the Burrow and want to scream out that he never meant to hurt you. He notices things about you that you probably hadn’t even noticed about yourself. The way your nose will scrunch when you focus really hard when Ginny tries to teach you wizard chess, how he wishes you would let him close enough to teach you. His heart aches when he notices you shift away from him, even after he and Hermione broke up. When you and Gin walk into the Great Hall for dinner and you go out of your way to sit as far from his as you can.
“You don’t understand,” Ron huffs out, rolling onto his side, wishing you were laying close into his chest like you used to. “She’s something else.”
“Ron, I know you miss her and everything but I have to tell you that you missed your chance,” Harry tells him. “Ginny tells me more than she probably should about all of this, she’s finally moved on from you mate, let it go.”
But how could he? How could he move on when you’re constantly around? He can hear a laugh from all the way down the hall and immediately know its falling from your lips, he’ll hear the sound of an engine from his bedroom window and know you’ve arrived for one of your weekend stays. The way you get on so well with his family, you’re perfect for him, you always have been but he took you for granted and now all he can do is complain to his friends about how he let you go.
And I know we weren't perfect
But I've never felt this way for no one, oh
And I just can't imagine
How you could be so okay now that I'm gone?
He thought for a long time that you were a temporary fix for his feelings that ran deep within him for Hermione, but being with her only made him realize that it was you all along. How could he have been so stupid? He refused to let his friends know you were together, in fear that Hermione would lose the feelings he had prayed she felt toward him, but in doing so he only pushed you away.
“Ron, we can’t keep sneaking around like this.” You would tell him after he pulled you into a broom closet in the middle of the day. “They’ll find out eventually, it’s not like Ginny would be cross with either of us.”
Ron was never able to give you a clear answer when it came to why you had to hide from everyone, not wanting to admit to you that it was because he was hung up on his best friend. Looking back now, it was the stupidest decision he ever made. While your relationship was chaotic and spontaneous and secretive, it was still something he now yearned for everyday, he needed to feel what he felt for you then. More specifically, he needed you to feel what you felt for him back then too. Admittedly, he never loved Lavender Brown, she was only there to stroke his ego. He thought he loved Hermione, but how can you fully love someone if your heart is connected to someone else? Loving you felt different than with anyone else, his chest burned and his hands tingled whenever you were around him.
That’s why it hurt him so badly to see you move on, and not to just anyone. After Ginny’s outburst toward her brother over how he continued to treat her best friend, a certain Weasley grew closer to you. At first, George wanted to apologize to you for the way his brother treated you as well as help you navigate co-existing with the boy. However, the more time you spent with George, the closer you became. You found yourself laughing at his stupid pranks that wouldn’t have even warranted a grin years ago. You felt the need to be near him grow more everyday, Ron noticed your sudden draw toward his brother as well.
He couldn’t understand how after, according to Ginny, crying over him for days on end, barely being able to get into your car to drive to the Burrow in fear of seeing him you could all of a sudden move on to his brother. Now that he realized how bad he messed up, he’s miserable that you weren’t around him, that you didn’t love him like you used to. How could you not feel the same hollow feeling he did?
What Ron didn’t see was that you did feel that hollow feeling, for months actually. You watched him fall in love and out of it twice before he realized you were the one, but by that time you didn’t have anything left to give him. You were healing in a way that caused you to grow apart from him even further. You found happiness is sleepovers with Ginny, helping Molly in the kitchen, and now long drives with George. You no longer felt like you needed Ron to survive. You didn’t eat, sleep, and breathe him anymore and that killed him.
You were careful to never make Ron feel the same way you did when you saw him with Lavender and Hermione, you weren’t as cruel as he was back then, but it was no secret that you and the twin had sparked some sort of relationship. Ginny was over the moon, as she began to lose hope in having you as a real sister by being with Ron, George came in and saved the day. If you thought Ron was mature for his age, George was practically ten times more. The more responsible of the twins, he always seemed to know exactly what to do and say in every situation. He always gave the best advice. What to do when a professor wouldn’t let up, how to sneak around the halls of Hogwarts at night, and most commonly how to continue in your growth while the one person who seems to stunt it is living only a stones-throw away. While you were still in school and he was running the shop, he would send you letters updating you on his life and beg you to come work at the shop with him and Fred when you finish school, telling you that you would make an excellent addition to the team. His words never failed to make you blush.
He’s three years older than you, almost twenty by the time you had moved on completely from Ron, so nothing ever really happened with George then, but your growing companionship could only be expected to blossom from there. Ron couldn’t stand it. Of all people you could seek comfort in, it had to be his brother. He would hear you gushing to Ginny about the most recent letter you received in the Common Room or witness you and George chatting about something completely arbitrary over Christmas and seethe with anger. In his mind, if you had ever truly loved him like you say you did, you wouldn’t be so content knowing that you two would never be together.
Red lights, stop signs
I still see your face in the white cars, front yards
Can't drive past the places we used to go to
'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe
It was no longer a secret to any of the Weasley clan that Ron was miserable. When he’s at school, he’s complaining to his friends about what he could have done differently so that he could have you. At home he begged his sister to stop bringing you around, as if he had any say in whether or not you visited the Burrow. Now being old enough to use magic outside of Hogwarts, he would apparate out any time he heard you pull up to his driveway. He would go to London mostly, distracting himself in the busy streets and crowds of people.
It never worked. Somehow everywhere he turned he thought he would catch a glimpse of your hair blowing in the wind. He would shake his head just to realize you were never there. Any white car that passed next to him would immediately strike fear in his heart, thinking you were behind the wheel, but you never were. He couldn’t decide if he was looking for you in everything or if he was so afraid to see you that he imagined you everywhere. Nevertheless, there was nothing Ron Weasley could do that would effectively distract himself from you, and he’s now starting to realize it’s all his fault.
If he hadn’t been so self centered to fall into Lavender Brown’s compliments and praises due to his egomania, he would have never kissed her in front of you. At the time he thought of it as kind of a test, how far could he push you before you were no longer kissing the ground he walked on. Seeing you still tremble at his touch or your cheeks heat up whenever he said your name made him feel good, like you would never leave him. Now that you’re gone, he’s kicking himself for pushing that limit. He didn’t know it would take him falling into Hermione’s arms in that hospital bed in front of you to ruin your good opinion of him forever, but if he did he swears he would have called out your name that day instead.
On top of the Dark Lord plotting to take over the wizarding world as he knew it, his last semester was filled with memories of you. Any time he would walk into the common room his heart would fill with sorrow, recalling how it felt to first kiss you there. He would also replay the moment he kissed Lavender Brown in that very spot, after pulling away catching a glimpse of you rushing through the crowd of Gryffindors to get away from him. In that moment he felt like the world’s biggest arse, yet it didn’t keep him from holding onto Lavender a bit longer. He avoided certain hallways that would force him to pass the broom closets and empty classrooms he pulled you into throughout the school day, hiding you from his friends. What a stupid thing to do. Part of him knew back then that he would never feel the way he felt about you for anyone else, but he was greedy.
Seeing you happy without him ripped his heart out of his chest and tore it to shreds. How you would smile down at a piece of parchment, assuming it was a letter from his brother. The sound of your voice carrying through the dorms as you and Ginny would stay up late in the common room talking about nothing and everything all at once. He couldn’t bear living right next to you, co-existing with you, while you just ignored him and grew apart from him.
“Y/n,” He calls your name. You’re alone in the common room, that is until he came in. You hadn’t heard him say your name in a while, you find it doesn’t have the same impact on you as it did a year ago and you’re grateful for that. “Y/n, can I talk to you?”
“What is it, Weasley?” You ask him, hoping the dismissal you intended in your tone translates. You had spent months avoiding him, avoiding the longing gazes, so that you could pick up the pieces of your heart that he shattered and put them back together. He doesn’t respond for a while, just admiring how you look in the glow of the fireplace. “I don’t have all night, get on with it.”
“Right,” He replies, shaking his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. He takes a seat on the arm chair across from the couch that you’re sat on, careful not to get too close. Your face is cold, he almost doesn’t recognize you without your smile. “I messed up, Y/n. I know I did. I fucked it all just to have a quick fix because I’m arrogant and selfish. I was so lost back then, in my own pride, that I didn’t know what I wanted out of life. But I know now what I needed then, what I need now.”
You don’t reply. Your heart is sinking but you do a great job of hiding it. Your face doesn’t change even though your inside is screaming. After months of crying and misery, watching the first boy you had fallen in love with fawn over what felt like every girl in the school, you had finally stopped hurting. Your heart doesn’t ache when you see him anymore, you don’t blush when you hear his name and you stopped yearning for his touch. Yet now, he has the audacity to try and fix it. Months ago you would have welcomed this grand gesture of what you can only assume to be a confession of the love he never lost for you, but you’re not the person you were then, thanks to the boy sat in the armchair that forced you to grow up and move on from him so soon.
“Say something.”
“Say something?” You ask, gawking at his audacity and slamming your book next to you. “You dangle your little relationships in front of me for almost a fucking year, pretending like I never meant anything to you and you’d like me to say something? Do you understand what kind of pain you caused? I cried until I had nothing left because you told me all these nice things about me, you told me you loved me, then you kissed Lavender right in front of me. Not only that but I spent hours, Ron, hours sitting next to your bed in the hospital scared shitless that you were going to die in there. You know who came twenty minutes before you woke up, Granger. I was there for hours and who’s name you did you call out? Hers. Months ago I would have eaten this shit up, Weasley. You could have come in here and told me my hair looked different and I would have fallen in love with you all over again. Not anymore. I’m finally happy, you don’t get to ruin that because things didn’t turn out the way you wanted them to with Hermione.”
He sits in front of you, shocked. Part of him expected you to always want him, to come back to him even after all this time but he was wrong. He looked at you, hoping that maybe you were lying, that you were just scared to get hurt again so you put on a face for him but the look in your eyes told him more than what just fell from your lips. You hate him.
“Y/n, please.” He whimpers as you start to collect your things to leave this room immediately. There are only two of you but you feel suffocated. “I love you.”
“Shut up.” You tell him, not in jest, not to tease him but genuinely wanting him to stop speaking. “Don’t you dare say that to me ever again. You don’t deserve to know what it’s like for me to love you, you never did.”
You leave him sitting alone in the common room, heart shattered from your words that dug into him like a thousand knives. He replayed it over and over again, to feel something other than the numbness that was sure to come in time when you love someone you cannot have. He still had to be around you, watch you live your life without him. He had to see you laugh and know he could never put a smile like that on your face ever again. In order to fully heal from the heartache he was facing he knew he had to separate himself from you, to leave for a while so he didn’t have to see you fall in love with his brother, but he couldn’t. He decided he would rather have you in the smallest way possible, watching you from afar, seeing you smile like you once did at him, then never see you again.
Sidewalks we crossed
I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing
Over all the noise
God, I'm so blue, know we're through
But I still fuckin' love you, babe
Years Later
Following your last year at Hogwarts, you followed George’s orders and began working at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. The twins were overjoyed to have your help, George especially so to have you around so often. With you 18 and he 21, after all these year he made his move on you, your friendship blossoming into something more.
You finally knew what it felt like to love and be loved back. George never tried to keep you from his friends, he never snuck off with you to hide your relationship, rather he paraded you around, proud that ‘someone like him was able to swing someone like you.’ He made you blush every time he looked at you, his handsome smile always pulling at your heartstrings. You had become addicted to being loved in that way.
Ron didn’t love your new relationship with his brother as much as as you did. He knew you deserved someone good, someone who would treat you right, he just wished it didn’t have to be someone who placed you in his life indefinitely. His heart ached whenever he would see George’s hand reach for yours as you giggled through the backyard of the Burrow. The worst was when he caught the two of you kiss for the first time.
It was late in the Summer, just after you and Ginny finished your years at Hogwarts. You were visiting just like you always did that time of year and late one night Ron heard rustling down from the main floor. Fearing that an animal had gotten in the house, he immediately searched for the origin of the noise. What he was met with was worse than if an acromantula had found its way into his kitchen. There you were, your hands tangled in his brother’s fiery red hair and his resting on your waist, your body pressed up to the sink. As he watched your lips against his brother’s, he felt as if a fire had engulfed his heart, his chest beginning to sting as it became harder to breathe. He didn’t say a word, he didn’t stop you two, just turned on his heels and darted back to his bedroom. When he was finally safe in his solitude, he slid against his door and broke down. The memories of the two of you in that very kitchen years ago flooded his sense.
During winter break of his sixth year and your fifth, the two of you spent your time cooking and cleaning together in that kitchen, laughing over the littlest things. Even when you weren’t right next to each other, he could still hear your laugh over all the commotion in the house. It was and still is his favorite sound. He wishes that he could bring that sound from your lips again, hoping that maybe one day you’ll realize your love for his brother is really misdirected love toward him, but that all changed.
You’re now 22 and George is 25. You have officially been together for four year. The shop had expanded immensely, renovations to the first store and new shops opening up all over the country and the continent. You count yourself lucky to be a part of it, to be able to say your boyfriend was the co-owner of the most successful joke shop in Europe. Being able to see how his eyes glow like it’s his first day of work every single day still makes your heart smile.
Tonight is another unveiling event of a new shop, this one in Spain. However, this new location being the 10th shop to open up in the continent, the boys decided this launch party would be more formal than the last, a bigger celebration. You all are dressed up, George in a tuxedo and you in a floor length gown. You loved seeing George in his everyday clothes, thinking he would look handsome in a potato sack, but there is something about that boy in a suit. All your friends and family are there, investors too. It’s a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life.
Ginny is still your best friend, you can’t imagine a day when she isn’t. You still have sleepovers in the Burrow even though you had your own lives and own flats. She’s still with Harry, a ring now occupying her left finger. When he proposed you and Ginny immediately started planning the wedding, there was no question who the maid of honor would be. She practically begs her older brother to make an honest woman out of you every time she sees him because she wants to, like almost everything in your lives, go through this experience with you.
Ron is there, of course he is. One of the biggest milestones in his older brothers’ career paths so far, he wouldn’t miss it for the world. He works at the shop sometimes, never with you, Fred and George would never be so cruel to ask him to do such a thing. He watched you for most of this night, his brother’s hand resting on your lower back every time he looked. While he knew your smile that you were putting on for investors and old friends was partly exaggerated so you could better play your role of proud girlfriend to the co-owner, he still admired how it sparkled like no one else’s he had ever seen. You grew more beautiful with every year you aged, this of course hurt him to still see you so happy without him.
You catch Ron’s stares throughout the night, you ignore them for the most part. You have come a long way, you were sixteen with you had your heart absolutely shattered by the boy and now you’re an adult. You have a job, a home, a life that at one point you could have never imagined living without him. The boy you were once completely and utterly bewitched by is now just a faint memory, a small ping in your chest when you think of how someone could hurt you so badly at such a young age. You catch his eye and smile at him, no longer angry with him. Like most things, George helped you process your anger. He couldn’t stand to see you so furious anytime you saw someone who mattered quite a bit to him. George has his moments when he hears something Ron did to you for the first time and becomes outraged, now that he loves you and everything, but he always reminds himself that its in the past.
Ron smiles back, you can tell he’s forcing it, but it’s a step in the right direction. Something tells him that he’ll never fully get over you, that part of his heart will always be in your possession. The only way he can describe his feelings whenever he’s around you anymore is blue, every shade of blue. Sometimes are better than other, a sky blue, a bit brighter but still a hint of sadness. Other times are a navy blue, complete and utter darkness. He hasn’t decided what tonight is blue-wise.
“Fred and I would like to thank you all for coming tonight.” George speaks into a microphone placed on an elevated surface in the new shop. You can’t help but admire his features, he looks so mature. “As you all know, courtesy of this bloody massive sign above our heads, this is our tenth shop to open across the continent. It feels surreal to say, eh Freddie?”
“You said it, George.” Fred replies. “Everyone in this room holds a special place in our heart, you’ve all, in your own ways, made this shop what it is today. We are so grateful to have such loyal and fantastic business partners, friends, and family.”
You want to cry, not a sad cry, but burst into tears over how far the two of them have come. When you first joined them in working at the shop, it was just a corner store on Diagon Alley, now it’s a world wide chain. You see the ins and outs of the business, knowing just how much work the two of them put into this dream. You’re able to catch George’s gaze, mouthing an I love you which he returns with a wink.
“Before we let you all get back to the party, theres one person we would like to specifically thank,” George speaks again before pointing down to you and motioning you to come up with them. You shake your head at him, not wanting to impede on the well deserved attention and praise the boys are getting. “Y/n, this isn’t an option come on up here. Alright, for those of you who don’t know this is my lovely, gorgeous, smart, talented-”
“Alright, get on with it Georgie!” Fred interrupts, making the crowd of people laugh. “I think they get the point.”
“Okay, okay.” George puts his hands up in defense. “Like I was saying, or those of you who don’t know this is Y/n. She’s better known to most of you as the lady who was stupid enough to say yes when I asked her to be my girlfriend, but she was the stores first hired employee. She has been with us for all the renovations, all the expansions and has always supported us in every hair-brained idea Freddie and I have come up with. She has since become our creative director for the company as well as held a seat on our board for, well as long as we’ve had a board. Without her, I think we might just crumble to the ground.”
“Oh stop that!” You don’t mean for it to come out so loud, but you make the crowd laugh again and your cheeks heat up. You slide in front of George to bring your mouth up to the microphone. “They’re making my role seem much larger than it is, all of this that you’ve seen over the years has very little to do with me.”
“Pay no mind to her, she’s being humble.” George retorts, and you decide to stop fighting it. “I guess what I’m trying to say is our lives, especially mine, would be a lot harder if Y/n wasn’t in it. I couldn’t think of a better place, in front of a better group of people, to ask this question.”
Before you can process his words, your boyfriend is lowering down on one knee and pulling a small box out of his pocket. You hear gasps and whistles coming from the crowd, making you turn to see Ginny with the biggest smile on her face. You look back down to George, your hands going to cover your gaping mouth. This is not real. The red haired boy opens the box to reveal a ring, a massive diamond in the center with what seemed like a dozen smaller diamonds surrounding it. So this is where all the money the shops have been making was going.
“Y/n, my dearest love,” He doesn’t even get a full sentence out and you’re already shaking. “It will never make sense to me why you said yes to being my girlfriend, but I’m hoping whatever came over you that day is over you now so you’ll say yes to this one too. Y/n, will you make the happiest bloke to every walk this earth and marry me?”
You can’t even form words, your heart feeling like it’s migrated to your throat. You can only nod and pull him up from his kneeling position to pull him into the tightest hug you’ve ever given. “Yes, yes. One thousand times yes. Georgie, I love you!”
George gives you that smile that melts you in every way and places the ring on your left finger. Ginny finally got her way. He pulls you in for a small kiss and your friends and family clap and shout with joy. You can hear Molly shouting over everyone else. Everyone in the room is clapping and celebrating but one person.
Ron’s mouth is agape, watching as you say yes to spending the rest of your life with his brother. He wants to be happy for the two of you, he wants to be able to celebrate with his family but the dull ache in his heart that has been present since the night in the common room that you told him to never say the words you just shouted to his brother turns into a sharp pain. This is the final nail on the coffin that is the hope Ron held that you would one day be together. That small glimmer dying as the ring is placed on your dainty hand. It doesn’t take long for Harry to notice the look on his best friends face, excusing himself from Ginny for a moment.
“You alright?” Harry asks quietly, careful not to draw attention to the one person in the room that isn’t happen for the newly engaged couple at the front. “Ron you have to at least pretend to be happy for them.”
Ron looks over to Harry and shakes his head. “I wish I could be happy for them mate. Everything in me wishes I had done something differently so it was me asking her that question.”
Harry is quiet for a while, watching as Ron’s face keeps the shocked and defeated look that its held since he saw his brother get on one knee. He balls his hands into fists every few minutes to keep himself from going completely numb. “You really still love her, don’t you? After all this time.”
“‘Course I fucking do.” Ron whispers, not meaning for it to come out as harsh as it did. He and Harry talk for a little while, just to keep his mind off the obvious stressor in the room, until Ginny is pulling Harry away to come and congratulate her best friend. Ron is left alone as we watches your smile, a genuine one this time, is glued to your face as you show anyone and everyone the ring. George is standing proudly beside you, holding your waist. You never look his way, too involved in sharing the most exciting moment of your life, though Ron wishes you would look over to him. He wishes he could catch your eye and sense some form of regret, then come save the day, but that never happens. Today is the darkest shade of blue imaginably, knowing for certain that your whole heart belongs to someone else. Quietly, for no one else to hear but him, he utters:
“I love you, I always will.”
#ron weasley#ron weasley imagine#ron weasley x reader#harry potter#harry potter imagine#george weasley#george weasley imagine#weasley imagine#weasley twins#gryffindor#gryffindor imagines
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Apocalypse - Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader
“You’re finally taking Cinema and Literature.” I felt him smile against the skin of my shoulder. He said it so casually. As if my underwear weren’t on his floor and the room didn’t reek of last night’s sex and Absolut.
CONTENT WARNINGS: Semi-Graphic Descriptions of Sex, Alcohol, Language, Implications of fighting/angst, toxic relationship
A/N: You can’t tell me that little collage isn’t exactly what it would be like to date college Matthew. He was the embodiment of NYU Film Major. Looked fucking hot doing it too. Cigs After Sex is the soundtrack to your relationship, by the way. Listen to Apocalypse here.
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NYU TISCH SCHOOL OF THE ARTS
9:05 AM - Saturday, August 26, 2000 Sophomore Year
It was early Saturday morning. I was naked and petrified. Bare back faced to Matthew Gray Gubler. I didn’t know if he was awake, and if he was what the hell would I say. I hoped as soon as he realized the naked girl in his bed was me he’d kick me out. Save me the shameful, deer in headlights bra collecting exit. I prayed he would tell me to leave so I just....would. I heard pillows and sheets rustle, and I just hoped he just did what was best for the both of us.
Tell me to leave Matthew.
Like always though, we were absolutely not on the same page.
“So..” His big hand slid over my hip from behind me, his palm gently forcing me back onto him, “You’re finally taking Cinema and Literature.” I felt him smile against the skin of my shoulder. He said it so casually. As if my underwear weren’t on his floor and the room didn’t reek of last night’s sex and Absolut.
“Yeah.” I answered. His short finger nails dug into his hips as his chest met my back. Neck craning over me. I shuddered and he noticed.
“You like it right?” It was a painfully obvious double entendre and I couldn’t figure out either of the answers. The Cinema and Literature professors unconventional teaching methods were a circulating debate at NYU, but fucking my ex AND staying the night the first weekend back on campus was indisputably wrong. Problem was I really enjoyed both.
Wet lips began to pepper equally wet kisses on my neck. My ability to move or speak was stripped. It was embarrassing really; I couldn’t focus or function when he touched me. Matthew liked that. A lot. Somethings never change.
“Your opinion on Scorsese?” His hands traveled through sheets and onto the bare skin of my chest. I sucked in a deep breath and looked him in the eye for the first time since last night. He had a cocky, stupid hot smile on his face. His hands slipped under me and I knew I was gone so I looked away. I didn’t want to see what he was thinking. This was so incredibly self destructive. We were swiftly undoing all the slow healing we’d both already done.
My brain spun all its gears at once to get out an answer while his hands practically methodically massaged my boobs. The feeling was the best kind of familiar. “You value my opinion?”
A hand made it’s way to my face, pulling it to his so that we could look at each other again. “Always did.” His voice was soft with sincerity that affected me more then I would’ve liked it to.
God, why? Why did things end the way they did? Why did....Why was.... Just why? There were so many whys, way too many fucking whys. Just tell me why, Matthew, please.
Then he kissed me, and it felt like time didn’t exist anymore.
Your lips, my lips
Apocalypse
Time was like that for awhile, non-existent. The only thing that existed and mattered were the lips attached to mine and the torturously clever hand in between my legs. He stroked me with such tender care and affinity, I almost forgot we’d exchanged “Fuck you” more times then “I love you”. My breath got heavier and my moans got louder. I’d always meant the “I love you” more then the “Fuck you”.
“Come on pretty girl, come for me.” The strokes and rubs of my clit and insides got more intense as his mouth nibbled at my earlobe, “I know you missed it.”
“S-shit!” And like that, I let go. I gave him what we both wanted too badly for our own good.
He got up first. I tried not to look as he dressed himself, but I couldn’t help it. He manipulated all of my senses, vision included. My eyes couldn’t leave him and he smiled when he noticed my shy stare.
“I was surprised when you said Hi last night.” He said, absent mindedly zipping his fly.
“It would’ve been weird if I didn’t.” I responded, forcing myself to say it plainly.
“Not really, all things considered.” He rummaged through still unpacked boxes, “You need a shirt?” It was cheeky and unappreciated, but I still took the offer.
It was brown and striped, a personal favorite back in the days of cuddlefucking and PDAs in front of all of our friends. This boy was too clever. He tossed it to me before putting on his own and laying back down. I shimmied the shirt on. It smelled like his detergent and the butterflies in my stomach were having a field day.
“I uh--I annotated the first lecture if you want it.” The sentence coming from him was uncharacteristically low pitched. He’d run out of things he could say without one or both of us choking up.
“S-sure.” I nodded, “That’d be help-”
There was a pounding on the door, and instantly in my chest.
“C’mon Gube! It’s first Saturday back! We got Bloody Mary’s and chicken wings calling our mothafuckin’ names!” It was Danny. Matthew’s best friend, my dormmates friend, all of my friend’s friend, and obviously, MY friend. It was the worst possible person to be knocking on the door right now.
“Gubler, you bitch!” He laughed, “I know you’re in there man.”
I was silent as a mouse. We could play this off. He’ll leave eventually.
“Well motherfucker, I’m coming in! Rick gave me his key. Hide your dick if you’re jacking it!”
Fuckin’ Rick. His dormmate. Didn’t know much about him other then he had good weed and definitely was not here last night.
I was frozen in fear and Matthew’s hands wiped his face and then didn’t leave. They were trying to hide a smile. I was absolutely horrified and he was slightly amused. One word. Typical.
“Holy. Fucking. Shit.” Danny’s jaw had swung open when he entered the room and saw what was happening.
His best friend and the ex-girlfriend he’d probably, no definitely, proclaimed extreme hatred for were sharing a bed and clothes on a Saturday morning.
“So like.... is it exactly what it looks like?” Danny tried and failed miserably to stifle his laugh when he saw my face.
“Shut your fucking mouth and get out.” I practically screamed. Thankfully, he listened.
I was seething. At myself, at Matthew and at fucking Danny for being such a goddamn jackass.
“Hey..” Matthew rushed to calm me down but I hissed at him before he could touch me.
I launched myself out of bed and scrambled to get my things. “Phone, keys, wallet...what am I missing?” I muttered to my stupid, hungover, fucking mentally exhausted brain. I was answered with shimmery fabric peeking from behind a sheet. “Dress.”
“Here.” Matthew threw me some basketball shorts. I didn’t thank him.
Without a word, I was out the door. Fuck.
-----------------------
The walk back to my dorm was pitiful. I scurried down the halls with dress and heels in hand, in clothes that were so evidently not mine, receiving mixed looks I didn’t have the brain capacity to decipher. I just wanted to cry.
I laid down in my freshly unpacked dorm, and there were two very distinct scents. My dorm mate Lo’s soy linen candles and my regret.
This kind of regret was laced with confusion and animosity and anger, and as much as I wanted to ignore it, there was a growing feeling of longing. Longing for Matthew and the way those skinny ass arms felt wrapped around my waist.
I couldn’t think about it for too long though, because Lo and her girlfriend, Jen were now in the doorway. Donuts and coffee in hand. God didn’t hate me so much after all.
“Give me one, right now.” I snatched a chocolate glaze from the box.
“You good?” Lo laughed and Jen gave me a look.
Shoving the donut into my face, I figured the best way to do this was bluntly. Danny was going to tell them within the hour anyway. Swallowing, I started rambling immediately. “I fucked Gubler last night.” I took another bite and kept talking with my mouth full, “Woke up and--Shit.” Sprinkles were falling everywhere. “He fucked me again.” I opened my eyes wide, “With his fingers.” I sighed, “They’re so long and--”
“Do NOT finish that sentence.” Lo interrupted. “Girl, why?”
“You think I fucking know why?” I threw myself back on my bed. “I barely remember what happened last night. All I know is where I woke up.”
“You’re fucked kiddo,” Jen said patting my head. “You get your bag, babe?” she asked Lo.
“Yeah,” Lo came out the closet and gave me a kiss on the forehead, “Sleep well my child.”
They were gone and so was my ability to not let tears stream down my face. There was a light knock on my door. If it was Matthew I think I would scream.
-----------------
Thank you for reading.
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one, two, three.
seonghwa x reader x yeosang
word count: 8k
smut
you had really come to like hanging out with seonghwa’s friends.
at first, he had been apprehensive, his hand rubbing at his neck nervously asking you for the tenth time if you were sure you wanted to meet them.
"seonghwa, of course i do," you whined to your boyfriend, pressing up on your toes to peck his cheek. "why wouldn't i?”
and you suppose, after you'd met them, you'd known why.
they were an odd mix of chaotic and sweet, always thoughtful and polite towards you albeit they drove you crazy. almost to the point of wanting to rip your hair out but you had truly grown to love each and every one of them.
hongjoong was the one who always saved you when the younger ones got out of hand, smacking them on the heads lightly and pushing them away while he shot you a reassuring smile.
yunho was the one who was always able to lift your spirits, noticing right away when you weren't feeling your best; it's like from the moment he met you, he was in tune with your emotions.
san and mingi were the ones you'd, admittedly, create destruction with.
it took one time of peaking your head in their shared room and seeing them beat the shit out of each other to immediately join in, laughing and screaming with them until you were red in the face.
wooyoung was another one of your defenders, though much more vocally than hongjoong; if anyone even looked at you funny, he was on their ass in a minute.
screaming about how they better not mess with you or they'll have have to face the consequences.
jongho was the one boy you thought didn't like you at first. he was slightly cold in his demeanor, smiling politely and bowing his head at you but never trying to initiate conversation.
it wasn't until he had gotten tipsy one night (off a singular wine cooler) that he became a little puppy towards you, going on and on about how nice and pretty you were and that you and seonghwa were the perfect match.
and last but certainly not least was yeosang - not something you ever thought you'd admit, the boy had caught your eye immediately.
there was something about him, his face and his voice and even his hands, just everything about him drawing you in the same way seonghwa did when you first saw him.
and, quite honestly, because of that, you should've expected the events that were to come.
you never understood the concept of having more than one partner, thinking that finding a balance was probably difficult and surely that you'd have to favor one a little bit more.
but the coming months proved that, sometimes, there was more than one person meant for you.
friday, june 19th
the rain was pouring down after your summer class, thunder and lightning crackling through the dark sky and causing you to grow more and more nervous.
seonghwa was usually waiting outside your building every monday and friday night, hating when you took the bus and insisting that you never do.
but a work obligation had him two hours away in a different city, the way he kissed your head and mumbled his apologies over and over making your heart really hurt right now.
you always needed him in this type of weather.
it felt silly and juvenile and even a little embarrassing, to be a full grown woman and terrified of storms; but what wasn't there to be scared about? loud booming noises and weather that had the potential to completely destroy the things in its path.
right now, that thing was you.
the prospect of walking to the bus stop on the other side of campus, getting drenched and whipped with wind one of your worst nightmares. just as you were about to accept your fate, you felt your phone vibrate in your back pocket.
your eyebrows furrow when you see yeosang's name on the screen:
don't even think about taking the bus.
your head snaps up as your eyes survey the parking lot in front of you, mouth dropping open and quirking into a smile when you see his familiar black car. you place your books atop your head as you run to the vehicle, ducking your head in and taking in the scent of his car.
it smells just like him, a mix of men's cologne and something distinctly yeosang.
"thank you," you smiled gratefully at him. "i didn't know you were coming."
"seonghwa asked me to get you," he tells you, making your entire body still when he reaches over you. his arm brushes past you as he hums lowly, grabbing the seatbelt and snapping it in before sitting back in his seat.
"i-i could've done that," you told him nervously.
he always did things like that, even in front of seonghwa.
help you in ways where he just barely touches you, like tying up your shoe laces or placing his hand on your waist when you stretch up to grab things on the top shelf.
he only smirks at you, pulling out of the parking lot and making his way back to the house.
"how was school?"
you go on about the last session of your summer class, expressing how grateful you are for it to be over and telling him all about your scary professor. about how he'd call students out for no reason at all, make them read off their test answers and blankly stare at them if they asked any questions.
"i truthfully don't know what he wanted from us," you complained, hands flailing with a pout on your face before you mumble, "fuckin' bruce."
a snort leaves him as he looks over at you, the smirk on his lips causing a blush to creep on your face.
"what?"
"nothing," he says, "you're funny."
a crack of thunder and lightning fills the sky and he watches you flail in your seat, a tiny, surprised squeal leaving your mouth. his eyebrow raises as obvious fear and terror cross your face, your shaky exhale heard throughout the car.
"you scared of thunder?"
"no," you answer immediately, wanting to close your eyes in embarrassment; you couldn't have made that any more obvious.
and with the way he's looking at you, he knows it too, even though he just nods head and smiles softly at you.
"what do you want for dinner? the boys are expecting us to bring shit home so you know the house is probably in chaos."
thirty minutes later when you arrive with ten boxes of chicken, that's exactly what you walk into.
the boys running to the door with a mix of dramatic groans and excited squeals, being suffocated in hugs like you'd been gone for four years and not just four hours.
"stop," you giggle out quietly, finally prying each and every last one of them off you before setting up the food. yeosang was quick to push you out of the kitchen, guiding you over to the tv and telling you to pick something.
you spend the rest of the night eating and watching a marathon of movies, face timing seonghwa and showing him all of the boys sleeping on top of one another.
"they're like a psychotic litter of puppies," the boy says, smiling at you from miles away in his hotel room bed. you giggle in agreement, your eyes moving to the window when the incessant rain and thunder pounds down on the glass.
"still raining?" he asks softly.
your mouth turns into a small pout, nodding your head as you rest your chin atop your knee. he lets out a sigh, his hand running through his hair as his eyes soften.
"i'm sorry i'm not there with you, baby," he says quietly.
and like you're somehow not used to it, the sweetness of your boyfriend and the way he's always so mindful of you, tears spring to your eyes.
"my love, please don't," he begs once he sees them gloss over, pain and sadness creeping into his voice.
"i'm sorry," you sigh out, "i just...i wish you were here."
it feels like seonghwa's heart shatters, his feet threatening to spring up from his bed to pack up his bag and make the two hour ride back home.
"just try to do what we always do," he suggests softly, the white noise speaker and weighted blanket in his room half of the trick in getting you to sleep during these nights.
"and you can always call me. wake me up, i don't care."
"i'm not gonna wake you-" his stern look causes the words to die in your throat, mumbling an "okay," a few seconds before a pleased, almost cocky smile makes its way on his face.
"good, baby," he says and then his eyes quickly turn into something else you're all too familiar with. another method, probably your favorite one, in getting you fast asleep.
"do something else for me now?"
it's in the way his voice drops, tongue flicking out to wet his lips, that has heat building between your legs. has him telling you to go into his room and get on the bed, the command in his voice already so strong and demanding.
he makes you prop the phone up toward you so he can see the expanse of your face, stomach and hips, his voice lowly telling you to do as he says. it's how you end up taking off your shirt, bra and shorts, leaving you panting on the bed with hard nipples and a soaked thong.
"seonghwa," you whined out already, every time you attempt to stick your hand in your underwear met with his firm "stop."
"over them first, baby. you know the rules."
you cry out the second your finger grazes your lace-covered clit, glossy, lustful eyes shooting to look at him watching you through the screen. you're met with the sight of him laying there shirtless, his cock resting on his stomach as he watches you begin to get yourself off.
"i want you," you whine lowly to him, breathing turning shallow as your finger starts to move faster and more purposeful on your throbbing clit. "fuck, seonghwa."
"you're doing so good," he says, voice strained and deep as you watch him take his cock in his hand. "close your eyes for me."
"but i wanna see-"
"close them."
you let out a whimper as you allow your eyes to roam over him, feeling your stomach tighten at the way his hand is slowly stroking himself up and down. the way that should be your hand and he should be the one-
"y/n."
you close them immediately at the sound of your name falling from his lips, your pouting mouth falling open as you feel yourself grow wetter by the second.
"that's my good girl," he says. "how do you feel, love? are your fingers gonna fuck you well?"
a tiny cry leaves your lips as you shake your head.
"why not, baby? what's wrong?"
"they're not yours," you whine. "i want...you to fuck me."
"i can't baby," he grunts out. "as much as i want my fingers in your pretty little pussy."
you bit your lip hard at his words, the small cry blaring through his speakers causing his cock to throb.
"and then i'd be sure to fuck you like the good girl you are."
your glossy eyes flutter open, full of lust and desire as you ask him if you're allowed to finger yourself; the moment you hear his strangled "yes," you moan out at the feeling.
your mind picturing him beside you, his fingers pounding in and out of you, thumb skillfully on your clit as the groans you hear coming from your phone vibrate in your ear.
"how does that feel now, baby?" he asks, "you look so pretty fucking yourself for me."
you feel your legs start to shake, your own hand traveling up to tweak at your sensitive nipple the same way he does to bring you over the edge.
"i wanna come for you," you say, "please let come for you."
and it's at this moment, you should've realized that the door wasn't locked.
but you're so fucked out by your own fingers and seonghwa's voice and how close you are to your release that you don't hear the door open.
you don't hear a quiet gasp leave the intruder's voice nor do you see how they linger in the doorway for a few silent moments.
"come for me baby. come all over your fingers for me and let me hear you be my good girl."
and then like a good girl, your legs tremble as the tight knot unravels and your loud, whiney moans ring through the air.
you don't even think about how loud you're being, truthfully not even caring as pleasure rips through you and you ride out your high on your own hand. you hear the familiar sound of seonghwa releasing shortly after, his grunts and groans of your name carrying out the rest of your orgasm.
once the ringing in your ears stop, the sounds of you and seonghwa's heavy breathing filling the room, you're finally able to open your eyes.
your vision is spotty at first, swearing you see a figure standing a few feet away in the doorway. your body tenses in fear and embarrassment, rubbing at your eyes with the hand not cupping your thong before looking again.
it must've just been a fluke, you think, something weird clouding your vision, because when you look back up, your door is closed and it's just you and seonghwa.
"how do you feel now, baby?" he asks you breathlessly. you turn on your side to see seonghwa's eyes are still closed.
"good," you tell him quietly, almost shyly; you guys have only done this a handful of times and each and every time, it makes you a little embarrassed.
"you did good for me, love," he says, his release on his stomach that would usually be seeping down your legs by now. "i can't wait to fuck you when i get back."
you laugh into your pillow slightly, cheeks warming at his words as you nod your head sleepily.
"ah, did you tire yourself out?" he asks teasingly, feeling his heart ache that he can't clean you up and hold you as you fall asleep.
he can only watch as you succumb to your exhaustion after a few passing moments, his softly spoken "i love you" and "i'll be home soon" humming you to sleep.
you had hoped it was gonna be enough.
that the power of an orgasm brought on by you and your boyfriend would be enough for you to sleep through the stormy night - but a loud crack of thunder rips you from sleep, your body shooting up and your chest heaving in fear.
you immediately reach your hand out to the side, feeling the cold empty sheets and about ready to cry when you remember seonghwa isn't here tonight.
that you're gonna have to sit through the storm all alone and be a big girl - but that's easier said than done.
after what feels like an hour (but was really only fifteen minutes) you throw on a long t-shirt and pad your way into the kitchen. you fill yourself up a glass of water and down the cold liquid, placing the cup in the sink as you grip the counter.
you noticed all the boys had gone into their respective beds at some point in the night, the dark empty room in the apartment lighting up from the chaos and destruction outside.
you feel tears prick your eyes, feeling so stupid for being scared and upset about this.
"you have to calm down," you mutter, wrapping your arms around yourself in a sad attempt at comfort. "it's fine. everything's fine. it's just-"
"y/n?"
the familiar deep voice rips you from your distressing monologue, squinting your eyes in the dark to see yeosang making his way over to you hesitantly. he keeps a good distance between you two, looking your body up and down before his eyes fix on (aha) something behind you.
"are you okay?"
it's like the very question causes you to lose it, a tear rolling down your cheek that you're quick to wipe with your wrist.
"yes. no. i don't know," you stutter out quietly. "you're gonna think it's dumb."
he takes your hand and guides you over to the couch, taking a seat next to you before turning to face you.
"try me," he says quietly, his eyes carefully watching your face.
it's then you tell him you're slightly embarrassing fear of storms.
how ever since you were the little, the sounds of heavy rain and thunder have traumatized and disturbed you. how it keeps you up and sends you into a panic, almost nothing able to help you through a bad stormy night.
"almost nothing?" he asks curiously, his eyebrow raised as his head rests in his hand. "what's the one thing?"
you bite your lip nervously, your tooth digging into the sensitive pink skin almost to the point you draw blood.
"so...someone with me, usually helps. like...sleeping with me," you stutter out.
"i usually have seonghwa but now he's not here. and he said i could call him and wake him up, but i don't know. it's not the same. and i don't wanna bother him."
he listens to your rambling carefully, parts of him feeling very conflicted.
because on one side, he wants more than anything to help you. he hates watching you be scared and thinking that you're gonna spend the rest of the night being haunted by your worst fear.
but on another, he's... not sure if it's right, given what he walked in on earlier that night and is pretending not to know about now. how greatly it affected him and how after his body refused to let it go, he had to get himself off in his bedroom.
"i guess that's kind of sad, right?" you laugh out in embarrassment. "i know, it's weird because i'm a literal adult but-"
"it's not sad," he's quick to clarify, "i was just... i don't wanna make you uncomfortable but..."
he sees your eyebrow raise as you look at him, feeling a lump grow in his throat at your soft, wide-eyed stare.
"we can....sleep out here, if you want," he suggests quietly. "i'll sleep on the couch with you."
he wouldn't feel right taking you into his bed but he also wouldn't wanna sleep with you in seonghwa's bed without the boy's permission; he thinks his best friend wouldn't mind the couch, given that you're terrified and need sleep.
"r-really?" you squeak out with a small smile. "i mean don't feel like you have to..."
"i don't," he insists with a small smile. "i want to."
that's how you end up laid out on the couch, yeosang behind you as you watch a random late night movie.
you feel your eyes start to droop, yeosang's lowly spoke question "is this okay?" as his arm casually wraps around your waist. you can only nod sleepily, knowing that there's already not much space given the tight fit of the couch.
another crack of thunder has you jumping in his hold, pushing yourself back on him as a tiny sigh leaves your mouth.
"it's okay," his deep voice drones lowly in your ear, "you're okay."
you hum lowly as you nestle yourself further into his warm body, shimming your hips back as his hand strokes your arm calmingly.
it's taking everything in him not to crack, his stupid male brain remembering the way you were laid out on your bed.
your moans ringing through the air as you rubbed yourself between your shaky legs. he could only imagine how your face looked, eyes squeezed in pleasure and mouth hanging open as your finger slammed in and out of your tight, wet-
"yeosang?" he hears you mumble lowly.
because unless he's harboring the tv remote in his pants, you're pretty sure his dick is rock hard and resting against your ass.
"hm?" he mumbles lowly in your ear, his brain pounding with lustful thoughts he know he should feel ashamed of.
"are... are you good?"
when he's about to ask what you mean, almost teasingly do you rub against his bulge again.
a shaky breath leaves his mouth as he tightens his hold on your waist, embarrassment flooding through him and he thanks god that you can't see his reddening face.
"shit, y/n," he grunts out. "i'm sorry."
"it's okay," you mumble out, feeling ashamed at just how much you like the feel of him pressed up against you. "it happens."
"does it?" he hums, humor and sarcasm in his tone. "because i don't think seonghwa would appreciate it."
you don't say anything but the voice in your head says otherwise, recalling bits and pieces of conversations with seonghwa about potential threesomes and what not when he noticed you eyeing the boy in question.
"would you ever be into that?" he asked you one night.
you had been so embarrassed and flustered by him calling you out, your eyes roaming yeosang's body and hands and flushing at the thought of them on you.
"what?" you asked innocently.
your boyfriend only raised his eyebrow, taking your face in his hand and shaking his head at you.
"you think i'm fucking stupid, baby girl?"
your eyes widened immediately, thinking he was about to be mad or jealous and yell for the first time in your relationship.
"i see the way you look at him," he told you simply.
"it's not like that, seonghwa," you insist, your hand coming out to run through his soft hair. "i just...think he's handsome."
a smirk crosses the boy's face, nodding his head at you before pecking your nose.
"well if you ever wanna...do something, just tell me."
you look at the boy in shock at first, cheeks flushing and core clenching as you ask what exactly he means by something.
"he's my friend, one of my best friends," the boy tells you. "i wouldn't mind sharing what's mine if you wanted to give him a try."
you nearly passed out right on the spot, eyes widening and mind already clouded with some of the fantasies you pictured on lonely nights.
seonghwa taking you from behind as you swallow yeosang's cock, yeosang watching as seonghwa eats your pussy and the boy pushing him aside to get a taste, hearing both of their moans and groans as they release onto your body.
his hand traveled down to your pants, slipping it inside and chuckling lowly when he feels wetness has started to gather.
"you like the sound of that?" he hummed in your ear, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin and causing your breath to become strangled. "you want me to watch my friend make this needy little pussy come?"
"not watch," you whine quietly, spreading your legs further for him as he slowly circles your clit. "bo-both of you."
you can't see the sadistic smile that crosses his face, his finger slipping inside of you and causing to gasp out.
"what you want, you get pretty girl. just let me know when."
"i actually don't think he would mind," you hummed lowly, pressing further into him and moving yourself against him. his quiet groan rips right through your core, spurring on the way you rock back and forth until his hold your waist tightens
"y/n..." he warns lowly.
you turn around to meet his gaze, his eyes dark and blazing down at you like he's trying so hard to keep it together. keep something lustful and brewing at bay.
but now it proves to be nearly impossible, with your eyes looking up at him with a matching expression.
"what are you doing?" he asks you, voice strangled and gruff. "i...i can't-"
"seonghwa said he doesn't mind sharing," you tell him, voice breathy and sweet, "we've talked about it before."
his eyes widen at the confession, unsure if he's more shocked by the fact you wanna do something right now or the fact that you and seonghwa had discussed this before.
something about it still doesn't feel quite right, so immune to the thought of you and seonghwa, that you're seonghwa's and no matter how badly he wanted you, he couldn't have you.
but with the way your breathing has synced, flush against one another's chest and feeling the heat radiating off each other, he feels himself quickly losing it.
feeling himself move closer and closer to you until his lips touch the hot skin of your neck. you whimper at the feeling, arching your neck back so he gets easier access.
it does just the trick, his lips tentatively placing kisses down your hot skin. it causes your stomach to flip, the excitement and fear that comes with having a new man on top of you hitting you all at once.
"i've been wanting to do this for so long," he mumbles into your neck, his hand coming up so his thumb can trace your rapid pulse point. "you're such a pretty little thing and i saw the way you'd look at me."
your cheeks flush in embarrassment at getting caught, knowing you weren't subtle in the slightest but also hoping, by some miracle, he wouldn't catch on.
like in some sort of bold retaliation, you throw your leg over his and grind yourself over his bulge.
"i...couldn't help it," you mumble, your words getting cut off last minute when you feel his his tongue slip out of his mouth. quiet hums leave you as he assaults your neck, licks and light bites and kisses that have you palming him over his pants.
just like seonghwa, you're quick to find out he's bossy - tells you to stop playing and touch his cock before he flips you onto you're back, like that's really some sort of threat.
desperate to see just what he's been hiding, you stick your spit-covered hand down his pants and boxers and bite your lip when you feel his hard, long length.
"oh, god," he mumbles, shutting his eyes at the feel of you stroking him up and down.
it'd be too much in normal circumstances, let alone that just a few hours before, he'd done the same thing to himself after seeing you. that you're right in the living room where anyone could walk out and catch you both.
"you're so good," he grunts out, convinced for most of his life that no one would give him a better hand job than himself.
you seem to prove him wrong, twisting and tugging in all the right ways to have him on the edge of coming after just a few minutes.
and when you politely ask him to do just that for you, your soft quiet voice whispering "come for me," he buries his face in your neck to muffle his moan.
you pull your spit-covered hand out of his pants and smile at him shyly, making your way over to the kitchen on shaky legs.
after washing your hands of him, you make your way back to the couch to see his eyes closed, head resting back on the arm of the couch as his breathing is turned more even.
his eyes pop open when you take your spot in front of him, his arm wrapping around your waist again and pressing against your stomach.
"it's your turn, isn't it?"
"you don't have to," you insist, the throbbing wetness between your legs saying otherwise. you don’t hear him say anything for a few moments, figuring that he's like you in the sense that an orgasm puts him right to sleep.
your eyes are closed for a few minutes, probably would've been able to succumb to sleep if not for the ache in the lower half of your body, when you feel his hand cover you.
you keep your eyes closed but bite your lip, whining lowly and hoping, praying, he's just gonna take control.
"i can't go to sleep knowing you're like this," he says lowly in your ear, rubbing over your shorts and smirking when a low moan leaves your mouth. his hand sneaks in as his finger teases at your slit, breathing sharply when he feels how wet you are.
"jesus christ," he grunts out, sounding genuinely pained. "fuck no."
and with that, his finger slides easily into you and you push yourself back on him again. his finger moves in and out of you steadily, his thumb circling your clit and lowly speaking into your ear.
he tells you how long he's thought about having his fingers in you, how he knew your pussy would be this tight and warm and how if given the chance, he would fuck the life out of you.
"you want that?" he asks lowly before commanding, "tell me."
"yes," you whine out, "yes, yes, yes."
"well, you can't get that," he teases, dropping a kiss to the area where your shoulder and neck meet. "not yet, anyway. so you need to come on my fingers."
just a few seconds later, you do exactly that.
sunday, june 21st
seonghwa gets home early that morning, sneaking in to his room and smiling at the sight of you fast asleep in his bed.
he sheds himself free of clothes and crawls in next to you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he nuzzles his face into your neck. the movement causes you to stir, moaning sleepily before turning in your boyfriend's hold.
"hwa," you mumble, burying your face in his chest and inhaling the familiar scent of him.
"hi, baby," he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "i missed you."
"missed you too," you slur tiredly, smiling lazily when you hear his quiet chuckle. your arm is quick to wrap around his waist, pulling yourself closer into him and falling back asleep in the comfort of his arms.
when you both wake a few hours later, the late morning sun streaming through the window, he bends down and pecks your lips.
"how was your weekend, love?"
a flush crosses your face when you think back to the events of friday night, the way you and yeosang fooled around on the couch and he murmured words that you hadn't been able to stop thinking about.
"it was... good," is all you say, knowing your cheeks and eyes are damn well about to give you away.
"but?" he asks lowly.
you let out a quiet huff, shaking your head at how well he knows you.
"i... yeosang stayed with me during the storm." his lips quirk to the side, raising an eyebrow at you as he props himself up on his arm.
"yeah? what happened?" he asks, eyes roaming your face; they don't hold any jealously or anger or insecurity, just a genuine curiosity.
"we... cuddled on the couch," you start off, the boy nodding because, okay yeah, all the boys cuddle with you. that's nothing for you to blush and get shy over.
"but then... i gave him..." it felt weird to confess these things to your own boyfriend, despite the mutual ground you stood on when it came to that.
"tell me, y/n, it's okay," he says softly, his hand moving to your cheek and stroking it softly. "we talked about it, i know."
"i gave him a hand job and he fingered me."
he nods his head, almost like you told him the date and time before a smirk crosses his face.
"yeah?" he hums lowly, "no fucking though, right?"
you immediately shake your head and he smiles proudly, replacing his hand with a pair of lips.
"good," he says after pecking your cheek. "i gotta be there for that."
you bite your lip, nodding your head and feeling excitement rush through you at the thought.
that you get to be with seonghwa without the phone screen in the way, that you'll get to experience yeosang's skilled fingers again and have both of them with you in the most intimate way.
"but for now," he says, pushing you gently onto your back and dipping his head to place kisses over your exposed thighs. "i need to eat this pussy myself.”
wednesday, july 15th
there wasn't a free night for you, seonghwa and yeosang for another three weeks - but once the time finally came, the rest of the boys either at the movies or dinner, seonghwa didn't waste a second.
the three of you were lounging out in the living room all day, your boyfriend and yeosang throwing each other knowing looks like they had discussed the past weekend events without you.
it started when seonghwa mumbled your name ten minutes after san closed the door.
you lifted your head off his shoulder, smiling up at him softly before seeing that familiar look in his eye. it drops ever so slightly, feeling yourself swallow as you remember yeosang had adamantly declined going out with the rest.
"we were thinking," he began, nodding his head toward yeosang like your pussy didn't already sense what was about to come. "you wanna show me what i missed that friday?"
your eyes widen at his words, lips growing dry as you look at both the boys staring at you.
"i-i guess, but i-"
yeosang laughs at your stuttering, seonghwa shooting him a look that immediately has it turning into a fake cough.
"it's okay if you don't," he says softly, "we just thought...it might be fun."
"no, i do," you answer quickly, far too quickly that it causes you to blush. "i just... what do i do? isn't it gonna be kinda weird?"
seonghwa only strokes your cheek, smiling down at you as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.
"whatever we tell you to do, love. that's normal, isn't it?"
your eyes widen as you timidly nod, looking at yeosang who's been intently watching you and seonghwa.
he watches the way you fall so comfortably into his touch, how your eyes look at him with so much trust and affection while his show a certain sort of protectiveness in them.
a protectiveness that comes out even more when seonghwa looks at his friends.
"take care of her. if at anytime she tenses or hesitates, stop."
"no shit, hwa," the boy says before smirking teasingly.
he taps on his lap where he's sitting on the chair, legs spread slightly as he leans back cockily.
"now come here, beautiful."
seonghwa rolls his eyes at the boy, patting you on the butt encouragingly and watching carefully as you stumble over.
you stand in front of yeosang a tad unsure, feeling more than ready to continue where you left out a few nights ago but also a little nervous.
with an audience is hard enough but when that audience is your boyfriend?
"let’s show seonghwa how good i made you feel," he says lowly to you, the man’s face turning into a sneer; it'd be in his friend’s best interest not to make this a competition.
you smile softly when you hear your boyfriend scoff, turning around to throw him a wink before straddling yeosang.
his cocky demeanor only grows stronger, gripping your hips as he moves you back and forth over him. you're quick to take over, looking at him as your teeth dig into your bottom lip.
"there you go, baby," he encourages before grabbing you by the jaw and forcing you down. "that's how it all started, right? because you couldn't stop grinding your ass all over my cock."
your breath falters at his words, face flushing but increasing your speed slightly.
he stares down at your lips, wanting so badly to take your mouth and allow his tongue to explore it. he looks to seonghwa who's just sitting on the couch, watching your shorts-covered ass grind back and forth skillfully.
"can i kiss her?" yeosang asks gruffly; the man only shrugs, nodding his head toward your figure.
"why are you asking me?"
so when yeosang asks you, eyes deep and dark as they look into yours, you're the first to make the move.
slamming your lips on to his and moaning into his mouth when his hands immediately go to grab your ass. his tongue slips right through, swallowing your moans as he moves his hand up your shorts to squeeze and knead your skin.
"i know she's soaked right now," you hear seonghwa say, breaking the kiss to turn around and see him sitting there in his shirt and boxers.
your lips are red and slightly puffy, yeosang's assault on your mouth making you look extra pretty. seonghwa gives you a reassuring look, quirking his eyebrow as if to say 'should we go on?'
and when you eagerly nod your head, a smirk crosses his face; before he can say anything, yeosang pulls his hands out of your shorts.
"that true, y/n?"
you lick over your lips slowly, looking him up and down before you nod your head.
it causes yeosang to spring up from his seat, grabbing you so your legs are wrapped around his hips as he walks over to throw you down on the chaise of the couch.
you land with a surprised squeal, watching as he shoves his pants down in one go. he bends and slowly drags your shorts and thong off, looking at your underwear in satisfaction.
he balls up the underwear and throws it towards seonghwa, eyes trailing every inch of your body with a lustful expression.
"you were right," the boy hums, trailing his finger in between your thighs. "good girl is all wet and ready for us."
you can't see the way seonghwa is twirling your lace around his finger nor can you see the outline of his cock protruding in his boxers. you can only focus on yeosang trailing his fingers up and down your slit, circling your wet hole and causing you to whine out his name.
"hear that, hwa?" the boy says, humor and amusement in his tone. "sounding like a needy little bitch."
your eyes roll back and whether it be your degradation kink kicking in or the way his fingers brushes over your clit, you don't know. but when you mumble a "please," you hear seonghwa tell yeosang to stop teasing.
"is this better then?" yeosang hums lowly, sliding two fingers in you quickly and placing his tongue on your clit.
it's a move that completely throws you off, something between a moan and scream leaving your mouth. you throw your arms back to hold onto the couch, lifting your hips up and grinding against his face in an attempt to feel more of him.
"answer him, baby," seonghwa demands, his head hung back as he jerks himself slowly.
and so, of course, you do as he says. cry out a mantra of “yes.” as his tongue flicks over you skillfully and his fingers curl up into you.
"oh, my god," you screech, one hand leaving the couch to fall into his hair.
you pull and twist at the strands, digging his face further into you that only seems to encourage him. you feel your legs start to shake, chest heaving up and down as a powerful orgasm is about to flood right through you.
the boy pulls back and wipes his face just before you come, your face twisting into one of absolute frustration and devastation until you see seonghwa's figure looming over you.
"hi, love," he says, bending down before he wraps his hand around your throat. "you like being quite the little whore, don't you?"
you lick your lips as a pout forms on your lips, disappointment flooding through you as your pussy aches from having your orgasm taken away.
"s-seonghwa, please."
"please what?" he asks, tightening his hold ever so slightly as he slams his lips on yours. "please let you be a little whore?"
you look at your boyfriend, wondering if it'd be in your favor to nod and fully accept this role - if being a little whore means you get to come, then you certainly don't mind it.
"because baby girl, if that's the case," he says lowly, taking you by your hips and flipping you over so you're on all fours. "then we'll fuck you like one."
you whimper and whine pathetically, the cool air on your wetness doing absolutely nothing to help the ache. it just makes it worse, looking back at the two men with raging cocks and dark stares and nodding your head desperately.
"please," you say, eyes moving between both of them. "yes. i want to make both of you come."
seonghwa smiles and brushes your hair lovingly, placing a kiss on top of your head before looking at yeosang.
"me first," he says, standing behind you as he lines his cock up with your hole. "let her suck you, she's fucking amazing."
when seonghwa enters you with a snap of his hips, yeosang immediately juts himself into your mouth. you cry out around his cock, balancing yourself on one arm as you lick yeosang up and down. twist your hand on the parts your mouth doesn't reach and eagerly muffle your moans around him.
"always so tight, my love, holyfuck," you hear seonghwa say behind you,
his hands digging into your hips as he pounds into you from behind. you moan out at his words, making sure to look yeosang in the eyes as you circle your tongue around his tip.
"jesus christ," yeosang mumbles, your eye contact and tongue and the way your body is jutting forward from seonghwa fucking into you some of the hottest shit he's ever seen.
you prove him wrong all but five seconds later, taking his cock fully in your mouth as you bob your head up and down with vigor.
"you love this don't you baby," seonghwa grunts out behind you, "having me fuck you while you suck him off."
if you didn't have a mouth full of cock, you'd be your obedient, truthful self and moan out a mantra of yes, yes, yes.
but you're so intent on sucking yeosang, thinking back to all the times you thought about this very moment.
being taken from behind by one while you sucked off the other. hearing their groans and grunts bounce off one another as they use your body for their own pleasure.
you know seonghwa's close by the way his grunts grow louder, hips becoming more sloppy in his movements and him asking you on more time if you like being their whore.
when you push your hips back on him, disconnecting your mouth from yeosang to let your loud moan ring free, you feel him spill his release into you. it makes you feel warm and full, wondering if you're about to feel the same exact thing on your face and really be a mess tonight.
the second seonghwa pulls out of you, slapping your throbbing clit for good measure before he makes his way around to, yeosang pulls himself from your mouth and eagerly makes his way behind you.
"be gentle," seonghwa warns the boy, grabbing his arm and tightening his hold ever so slightly. "she's gonna be sensitive."
yeosang only narrows his eyes at the boy challengingly, bending down and taking your pretty face in his veiny hand.
"do you want that, y/n?" he asks, letting his thumb drag over your bottom lip before sticking his finger in your mouth. "do you want me to be gentle?"
seonghwa rolls his eyes at his friend's approach, shaking his head and resisting the urge to tell him to fuck off purely out of selfish intent.
you also shake your head no, telling him to fuck you as he pleased and yeosang does just that.
he pushes you on your back and puts your legs up on his shoulders, spreading you like a feast and pounded his throbbing cock into you.
the both of them are different in length and girth but seem to fit you so well. you stretch perfectly, filled up so well by them and feeling every ridge and thrust with immense pleasure.
"holyshit this pussy," yeosang grunted, seonghwa smirking in satisfaction because after all, you were still his girlfriend and it sent a strange sense of pride through him.
that's why he rests your head on his lap and fondles your chest, palming your nipples and watching as your face twisted into one of pleasure.
it only took five flicks of yeosang's fingers on your clit for you to completely fall apart, spreading your legs and yelping when one of the most intense orgasms destroys your body.
you’re a shaky, moaning mess, yeosang's hips snapping rapidly into you as seonghwa bends down and silences your mouth with his.
the both of you took some time to catch your breath, yeosang pulling out of you with a curse and placing a kiss to your leg.
you looked up at seonghwa who's hands were in your sweaty hair, roaming over your face to see if they had gotten too much. if their words and the way they lost control inside of you was suddenly taking an effect.
you only grabbed the back of his neck and tugged him down, your lips meeting with fervor as he smiles into the kiss. he slips his tongue in before pulling back, looking down at you lovingly as he fixes another sweaty strand of hair.
"you okay, baby?" he asks, "you did so fucking good for us."
you nod your head with a lazy smile, stretching out your legs tiredly. the both of you turn to yeosang who was still looking dazed and boneless on the couch.
you giggled into seonghwa's arm, feeling his lips press a kiss against your head.
"he's not used to you," he hums lowly.
"well, he better," you say, yeosang snapping open one eye as a smirk crosses his lips.
saturday, october 2nd
the sexual part was easy. falling into the motions of all of your desired roles and positions that you liked.
yeosang was amazing with his fingers, seonghwa was amazing with his tongue and either of them being inside you was guaranteed a good time.
but it was after the sex where you all felt... hesitant.
at first, it had been awkward.
yeosang not knowing what to do when seonghwa did all his normal aftercare, cleaning up between your legs and brushing your hair and asking a million times if you were okay or needed anything; it had surprised him, honestly, the level of care he put into you afterward.
but it also surprised him that he found himself waning to do that.
he wanted to stay after, have you in his arms or on his chest with seonghwa on the other side of you. he wanted to see you outside the bedroom, go on dates with you and chastely kiss you and act like a boyfriend the way seonghwa did.
it wasn't until you initiated the first conversation that really set everything in motion.
it started after nearly two hours of swapping positions, riding yeosang as seonghwa jerked himself off before he couldn't take it anymore and sat you on his face.
they had gotten better at sharing, dirty looks and snide comments still made that were more often than not teasing.
after this particular time, however, you were exhausted. you were just so exhausted and wanted both of them by your side tonight.
"can you stay," you softly asked yeosang. "i... want you both tonight."
the two boys looked at one another before shrugging because the rule had quickly become what y/n wants, y/n gets.
you spent the night in between the both of them, your hand intertwined with seonghwa's while your head rested on yeosang's chest.
when the two boys woke before you the next morning, they had looked at each other before looking down at you and knew it felt right.
not particularly between them, though they didn't mind it, but just the dynamic as a whole. both of them loving you and caring for you and only wanting what's best for you - and if that was both of them, then that's what it was.
because the further you got into your relationship, the more you saw just how much you needed both of them.
you needed seonghwa for certain things and you needed yeosang for certain things.
on nights you were feeling particularly vulnerable, you still wanted seonghwa. if a storm was hitting or you were coming down with a cold, you liked the familiar warmness of seonghwa.
but on an intellectual level, talking out your feelings and getting stuff out in the open, you and yeosang clicked.
you had the same personality, liked the same things, would sometimes even finish the others sentences and be able to know exactly what the other person was thinking.
you also found that innocent little ways of affection, you liked with yeosang. liked the way your hands fit together and the way his strong arms wrapped around your waist.
the other boys had noticed the change almost immediately, raising their brows at the way yeosang would cuddle you from behind on the couch while seonghwa just sat off to the side unbothered.
they weren't deaf either, hearing the boys muffled moans mixed in with yours - so naturally, it had been san to discuss the elephant in the room.
"so like... are you three all a thing now? and if so, how do i get in on this?"
you, yeosang and seonghwa let out loud laughs, the latter boy flicking his forehead and smiling when san let out a loud cry.
"ow! what was that for!"
"for being a perv," he sneered, pushing the boy off the couch so he can sit next to you and yeosang. you moved so your head rested on his lap, your feet on yeosang at he trailed his hand slowly up and down his leg.
eventually, everyone had gotten used to the new normal. had gotten used to seonghwa and yeosang caring for you in the same way, watching their eyes look at you with a matching twinge of love and lust in their eyes.
you and yeosang are now in his bed, giggling and teasing each other over a stupid tv show when you see seonghwa come in with a smile. he smirks when he sees yeosang's hands holding you hostage, your wrists above your head as your red in the face from laughing.
"don't fuck with our girl too much," seonghwa said with a smile, bending down to peck your cheek before snaking his way in bed.
you spent the rest of the night laughing with them, writhing under their hold as they tickle and nip at you.
and when you guys go to bed a few hours later, your drowsy, warm body in the middle of both of them, the thunder rumbling outside is a pleasant reminder of the night this all started.
(part 2)
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Yungblud Fan Fiction - Protego
Prompt: Wizard (meaning it’s the Hogwarts AU nobody asked for)
Word-count: 1625 words
Warnings: none
Description: It's hard being a muggle-born wizard at Hogwarts at the moment, since the school's been taken over by pureblood-supremicists, but Dom's determined to do his best to carry on as normal. Thankfully, he has help.
Dom looked both ways before exiting the Hufflepuff common room.
Hogwarts wasn’t as safe as it used to be. Inside his house’s common room, he wasn’t in any danger; Hufflepuffs were inclusive by nature, but the rest of the school? Not so much. The place was being run by bloody Death Eaters, and even if Snape had ‘officially’ ordered that no students were to be targeted for unnecessary punishment, the Carrows had decided that people muggle-born - or a mud-blood, as they constantly spat at people who weren’t from wizarding families - was enough reason for a punishment to be ‘necessary’.
And Dom was muggle-born.
Muggle-born, and rapidly becoming aware that nowhere other than the Hufflepuff common room and dorms were safe. If it wasn’t the Carrows, it was the children of the Dark Lord’s Death Eaters, and if it wasn’t either of those two, then it was whichever student was looking to get on the Carrows’ good sides by throwing a bit of abuse at students who couldn’t (or weren’t allowed to) fight back. Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, it didn’t matter - generally it was only Hufflepuffs that could be trusted, and even with some of them, Dom wouldn’t want to be around without his other housemates, just in case. There were exceptions to every rule, after all.
Including the idea that most Gryffindors held that all Slytherins were on the side of the Carrows and the Dark Lord.
“Good morning, Harrison.”
Turning round, Dom smiled when he saw who’d spoken out to him.
He was always happy to see Delphine Prewett. She was Slytherin’s star student, the embodiment of everything they wanted a witch to be. Powerful, smart and sly, beautiful and elegant, and - perhaps most importantly to the people who decided what the embodiment of a Slytherin witch was - a Pureblood. She was popular, got top marks in all her classes, was an immediate choice to be made a Prefect in her fifth year, and had been Slytherin’s Quidditch Captain until she stepped down to be Hogwarts Head Girl at the beginning of this year.
When Delphine walked through the halls, the crowd parted like the Red Sea. When she spoke, rooms went quiet. When she made up her mind, no-one tried to change it.
And she’d decided that she liked him.
She was the best the school had to offer, and she had decided that she liked him.
Dom had gotten so fucking lucky.
With Delphine around, no-one challenged him over his blood status
“Hi, Delphie.”
Delphine didn’t smile at the nickname, but she allowed it, and that alone told Dom she liked it - because if she didn’t, she wouldn’t hesitate to let him know: “I thought we could walk to breakfast together.”
“That’d be great - maybe we could talk about the charms homework? I think I’ve got a good idea but I wanted to see what you thought…”
As always, Delphine was more than happy to listen to Dom ramble about his potions essay. He was no slouch when it came to any of his classes, but he had a tendency to go on tangents. Talking about what he was going to write down - and letting someone tell him when he was getting off topic - was really helpful. Delphine listened patiently as they sat at the Hufflepuff table, buttering slices of toast for both of them while Dom went through how he thought he was going to lay his essay out, writing notes on a scrap of paper about what was he was keeping, what he wasn’t keeping, and any additions Delphine thought might get him some extra marks.
Of course, because of what Hogwarts was like this year, the peace and quiet didn’t last long.
Helena Rookwood, a Ravenclaw student with a Death Eater father, appeared right behind Dom, sneering at him when he turned to look at her, and glaring at Delphine in a mixture of confusion and derision.
“Why are you sitting over here, Prewett? And more importantly, why are you sitting with that?”
Delphine looked up at Helena with a cold expression: “I beg your pardon?”
Most people would’ve recognised the icy tone Delphine was using as one of warning and backed down, but although she had the thirst for knowledge that seemed to characterise Ravenclaws, Helena seemed to struggle with retaining important knowledge like what happened when witches like Delphine lost their temper: “Harrison’s a mudblood - and a Hufflepuff mudblood at that. Why on earth would you waste your time sitting with him.”
“I don’t define a person’s worth on things like their house or incidental traits like blood status. After all, you are Ravenclaw and a pureblood,” Delphine sneered: “yet you are completely worthless.”
Helena seemed taken aback, her mouth hanging open like a fish. Dom was struck with the urge to tell her she was not a codfish, but he knew better than to antagonise her right now. Delphine was basically untouchable - so if Helena was going to lash out, she was going to lash out at Dom. And given her quick temper, it was pretty likely she was going to end up trying to get back at him for what Delphine had said. Dom didn’t need to upset her any more than she already had been.
As it was, Helena spluttered and glared, slowly went red in the face, but Delphine didn’t take mercy on her by dismissing her. She remained in her seat, looking at Helena with a raised eyebrow, waiting for either to respond or slink away in defeat. But Helena did neither.
Dom grew increasingly nervous as the silence dragged on. With Amycus Carrow watching on with narrowed eyes from his position at the teacher’s table, Dom didn’t dare draw his wand. He was lucky that it hadn’t been taken away by the Ministry yet - if it got confiscated by Amycus, he’d never get it back. Even if Helena drew hers first, Dom would be punished for dueling if he fought back…meaning he’d be relying on Delphine to defend him.
He had no doubt that she could - probably better than he could defend himself - but that didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous. He waited for something to happen, but the two girls just watched each other over the top of his head, waiting for the other to make their move. The stand-off seemed to drag out forever…
…but then Helena drew her wand.
“Confri- ”
“Protgeo!”
Delphine rose to her feet - but didn’t draw her wand. She didn’t need to.
I didn’t know she was so good with wandless magic.
The shield charm was so strong it sent Helena stumbling backwards before she fell onto her arse.
Delphine stood, leaning forwards to brace her hands on the table so she could look down her nose at where the other girl was sprawled inelegantly on the floor, her eyes watering as she looked back up at Delphine and tried not cry.
“Are you finished?” Delphine sneered, not taking it easy on Helena - despite having already beaten her.
“Why are you standing up for him? He’s a mudblood!” Helena wailed.
“And you’re a bigoted cu- ”
“Is everything okay here?”
All three of them turned to look at Alecto Carrow. The short, stocky woman was glaring down at Helena, her face wearing its usual pinched expression.
Helena didn’t wait to be told to get to her feet; all the students knew better than to let either of the Carrows see you down, in case they decided to kick you while they were…literally or figuratively. Even the students who believed in the same rhetoric as they did weren’t safe, especially from Alecto. She liked hurting people, and she didn’t care who her victims were as long as she was infliction pain.
Dom and Helena ducked their heads, but Delphine looked the other woman straight in the eye as she spoke.
“Yes, thank you Professor Carrow.”
“Make sure that it is, Prewett. As Head Girl, there are eyes on you.” Alecto warned: “Make sure you do not disappoint them.”
With that, she strode away, shooing Helena away as she went.
Everyone who had been trying to subtly watch without being caught went back to eating their breakfast. Delphine returned to her seat, but for the first time since they’d become friends in their third year, Dom saw her look shaken. Understandable; the ‘eyes’ on Delphine were the eyes of the Death Eaters interested in recruiting her…but Dom didn’t like it. There wasn’t a lot he could do (to speak out against the Death Eaters, even where they thought they couldn’t hear you, was a sure way to end up in trouble…or worse) but he reached out to take her hand and squeeze it reassuringly.
She returned his comforting smile with a strained one of her own, before taking a deep breath to center herself, and the confident expression of Delphine Prewett was back in place. If he hadn’t been looking just a second ago, he wouldn’t have known it was a mask…as it was, he went along with it. She was just doing what all of them were doing it: faking it until they could make it a reality.
“Well, we’d better get to class. The Head Girl can’t be late, after all.” she smirked.
Dom followed her out, waiting until they were halfway up the stairs to Transfiguration: “I’ve got your back, Delphie. They can’t have you if you don’t want them to.”
It might seem nonsensical to some…but Delphine understood, she always did: “Thanks, Dom. I’ve got yours too.”
“I know.” Dom grinned: “And you look fuckin’ amazin’ doin’ it.”
Delphine smiled: “I know.”
This time, her smile was a lot more genuine.
#The Trees Writes#The Trees' October 2020 Writing Challenge#Yungblud#Yungblud imagine#Yungblud fan fic#Yungblud fan fiction#Dominic Harrison imagine#Dominic Harrison fan fic#Dominic Harrison fan fiction#Dom Harrison imagine#Dom Harrison fan fic#Dom Harrison fan fiction
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ALRIGHT. First selfship piece is going UP. I got some big inspiration from @amethystsoda and @dongiovannaswife so like... love you guys 💖💖 no stinky vampire man... yet. Hoping to get the next part up within the next week.
Dust in the Wind—Part 1
It had been a while since Jotaro had been to the Dallas Speedwagon Foundation Headquarters, and it had since moved locations to outside downtown… somewhere.
It was a damn pain if you asked him.
Dallas was a mess to move around in; you were better off on foot, since there were so many one-way streets. His grandfather had explained, the first time that he had brought his grandson to the Foundation in Dallas, that it was probably because car size in America outgrew the more narrow streets that Dallas began with. Jotaro himself didn't really understand it until he saw for himself: Texans loved big cars. There was an astonishing amount of pick up trucks here, compared to other places he'd been.
He wasn't very familiar with Texas, he had to admit. He'd visited Galveston and Corpus Christi more often for marine work, though he had to admit to himself that they weren't his favorite places in terms of the ocean; this side of the coastline of the Gulf of Mexico tended to have a lot of sediment in its water. When he stayed at a house in a place called Crystal Beach for a while, he remembered how searching for hermit crabs with a colleague was rather annoying due to the brown murkiness of the water.
The houses on stilts were quite novel, though.
...That was enough reminiscing.
Jotaro huffed, figuring he could just go to the old location to ask for assistance—it was still being used by the Foundation despite it not being the main building anymore—when a bright voice floated through the air.
"Hey, mom. Y'got everything?"
"Yes, but it's a lot, you know, they turned in projects… can you open the trunk?"
"'Course, no problem. Gimme a sec…"
Jotaro looked up from his map, seeing a young woman helping her mother begin to load several large rolled up cardboard tubes into the back seat of a small blue hatchback.
The woman was dressed comfortably, a boon in the blossoming Texas heat, with a black wide-brimmed hat and minty-colored sunglasses and a lazy smile on her face. She couldn't have been more than an inch over five feet, and her wavy purple hair fluttered in the wind. What didn't look conducive to staying cool were the dark, full-length leggings under her jean shorts or the knee-length, full sleeve knit cardigan, but he knew what it felt like to have a comfort jacket. Her mother, several inches taller than her, was well (albeit colorfully) dressed with a lanyard and ID swinging around her neck, and a mobile folding cart filled with books, folders, and cardboard tubes. The mother's hair, a light silvery-blonde that fell around her shoulders, made Jotaro wonder if they were actually related, but he admitted to himself that stranger things do happen, and hair dye did exist.
Jotaro hummed to himself and looked back at the map as a gust of wind between the tall buildings sent papers scattering, the mother crying out in dismay.
"Sunnie–!!"
"Don't worry mom, I got it."
Jotaro watched the paper of his map flutter suddenly and unexpectedly, swooping in the opposite direction that it had been previously. It was such a sudden change that Jotaro looked back up from the map, only to see all the papers floating through the air to finally gather into the young woman's outstretched hand.
"I'll never ever understand how you can do that," the mother said, her voice equal parts thankfulness and bafflement, "And I don't think I ever will."
"You keep saying that, y'know," her daughter laughed, easily hefting the heavy folding cart into the trunk of her car.
"I know!! But it's true, it's like magic! But real!!"
Jotaro focused his gaze on the young woman.
Stand users are drawn to each other.
When the two women were nearly finished loading all of the mother's things into the car, he approached them, trying to relax his intense demeanor as much as possible. The woman's mother reminded him a lot of his own, and he didn't want to frighten her.
"Excuse me," he asked, fishing around in a pocket inside his coat to pull out his notebook. The two women turned to look at him, the mother's eyebrows raising as she made an 'oooh' noise. Her daughter's expression, however, was completely unreadable behind her large sunglasses, but Jotaro felt her gaze. Her carefree attitude had suddenly disappeared, and he knew that she was likely sizing him up. He wondered if she, too, felt the same weird restlessness in her own chest. "I was wondering if you could tell me how to get here," he continued. Her mother leaned in to see the address written on the notebook's page, then lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.
"Sunnie! He's asking about the Speedwagon Foundation!"
Immediately, the daughter seemed to relax, looking at the page as well. "Oh, no shit?" After another second, her eyebrows rose above her sunglasses. "Oh! No shit!!"
"You know of it?" Jotaro asked, putting the notebook back into the chest pocket.
"Know of it? I'm heading there, after I drop mom back off at the house," the younger woman laughed, extending her arm for a handshake. "I'm Sunnie Green, recently employed by the Foundation. Good to meet you, Mr…?"
"Jotaro Kujo," he replied, accepting the shake and subsequently drowning her small hand in his own. Her shake was strong and firm and confident in a pleasantly unexpected way.
The second he said his name, though, a wry grin broke out on her face.
"No fuckin' way," Sunnie said, surprised, "I have heard some stories. Good to meet you in the flesh. Foundation's been expecting you."
Jotaro grunted. He knew that after his 'trip' to Egypt all those years ago, people at the Foundation liked to gossip about him, and he had hoped that those tales and rumors had died down, but it seemed that they'd persisted. He wondered if they'd only gotten more wild with time. "Well. That aside, if you could point me in the right direction, it would be much appreciated."
"Well, uh, it's not quite in Dallas anymore? It's a bit away from here, so uh…" Sunnie trailed off, her face scrunching up in thought.
"Sunnie," her mom stage-whispered, "Sunnie, you should drive him there."
"Huh-whaa?" Sunnie looked at her mom, eyes wide, then nodded like a lightbulb went off over her head, crossing her arms and grinning, "Yeah!! Yeah, that just makes sense. That makes so much sense!!"
"That won't be necessary–" Jotaro began, but Sunnie shot him a confident grin.
"Don't be silly! This is the perfect solution. It's late in the day, getting a taxi or rideshare there will cost you money you don't need to spend, I mean come on. I'm right here, dude. I gotcha." The smaller woman laughed and put the final bag of papers in the trunk of her car, shutting the door. "I'm not taking no for an answer. And mom?" she looked at her mom expectantly, who smiled widely.
"I'll sit in the back!" She beamed before looking back up at Jotaro, "That way you don't have to sit with all the projects."
Without giving him the chance to offer otherwise, Mrs. Green made her way to the back seat, opening the door and getting in. Jotaro breathed a quiet sigh, gathering himself before he walked to the front passenger's door and opened it. He did not miss Sunnie's triumphant smirk before he ducked inside. To his surprise, it was actually roomy inside the small car. At least, roomy enough to be comfortable for him. There was some music softly playing over the speakers and a water bottle in one of the cupholders, and dangling off of the rearview mirror were some small pom poms and repurposed cell phone charms, several of them Pokémon. In a little storage area under the main console, he saw a lanyard with an ID decorated with the Speedwagon Foundation logo on it.
Sunnie got in the car as well, buckling up and shifting out of park, turning smoothly into the street when it was safe.
"I'm excited for you to go to the new Foundation Headquarters, Mr. Kujo," Mrs. Green chirped, hands patting her bright red jeans excitedly, "Some of my former students helped decorate the interior! I'm very proud of their work."
"Mom's an interior design professor," Sunnie laughed, "Used to get hired for private homes and hospitals and stuff. There was that one home on White Rock with the spiral staircase? Fucking dope."
"I still talk to them," her mom said airily, "Sometimes I stop by for cookies."
Jotaro didn't quite know how to respond. The two women were very open and friendly and it was making him feel… strange. Was it just a Texan thing in general? Joseph had once mentioned 'Southern Hospitality'. Then again, who could say? The old man liked to talk for the sake of talking sometimes.
He caught a minute glance from Sunnie, who then leaned her head back, a lazy grin on her face.
"So mom, what're all those projects in the back?" She asked, "No balsa wood models this time? That was a nightmare to transport."
"But those were group projects and they were light weight! These plans are deceptively heavy and there are so many–"
As Carol rambled on about the projects sitting around her, Jotaro found himself happy that Sunnie seemingly sensed his discomfort and acted on his behalf to divert her mother's attention. He zoned out, his mind stuck on the impending meeting—one that he had never imagined he would have to have, and one that was admittedly making him feel a little sick in his stomach.
The red brick house they arrived at was in a quiet little subdivision about 40 minutes in traffic away from Downtown Dallas, lined with large trees and with a nice pond. The houses were all two stories, most driveways accessible from the street, and the summer warmth and ample sunshine had the lawns dotted with flowers of many colors. Sunnie parked the car in front of the pebbled sidewalk to the house, and the large dark blue front door opened. A salt-and-pepper haired man with a moustache walked out, wearing an old shirt and jeans and carrying a duffle bag. Sunnie and Mrs. Green got out of the car, and Jotaro decided to get out as well.
The man, presumably Mr. Green, seemed surprised. "I doubt one of your students turned him in," he laughed nonetheless. Mrs. Green giggled.
"No, no! He's with the Foundation!" Mrs. Green explained, and her husband rolled his eyes.
"I was kidding, Carol," he said, voice deadpan. Sunnie snickered.
"We found him looking for the new campus downtown, so I offered to take him there. Speaking of, we gotta get this stuff outta the Spaceship so we can head out," Sunnie turned to Jotaro, "This won't take too long–"
"I'll help," he told her, "Least I can do."
Sunnie paused, pursed her lips, and nodded.
With four sets of hands, unloading took no time at all, but Jotaro once again noted that Sunnie seemed stronger than her smaller size let on. At the end of it, her dad handed her the duffle bag, which she tossed in the back seat.
"See you in a few days," she said, hugging her parents, "Don't get too wild without me around."
"Darn. We'll have to cancel that crazy party," her dad grinned, and she smacked him on the arm.
Jotaro got back into the car with Sunnie, and she drove them out of the subdivision.
"…Do you live with your parents?" Jotaro asked, a sudden burst of curiosity getting the better of him. Sunnie looked at him out of the corner of her eye for a brief second, then turned her gaze back to the road as she flipped on her turn signal.
"I left my husband recently," she said, smoothly turning onto the service road, and Jotaro suddenly felt incredibly awkward, "Got out of the apartment as fast as I could. Grabbed a few things, said goodbye to the dog, and fucking split. It was really sudden, and since I don't have that much money to my name and my husband currently is in control of my finances, living with my parents is easier. I'm actually in my childhood room right now, when I stay at the house." She laughed dryly, merging onto the turnpike.
"Mm," Jotaro simply responded, and Sunnie laughed.
"It's not weird, dude, come on. Chill," she said, passing a particularly large eighteen wheeler and switching two lanes to the left, "I mean, it's kinda weird. But it's fine. I don't mind. I've heard a lot about you from some of the other employees already, I think it's fair that you know about me, if just a little." She looked at him briefly, eyes twinkling. "You're kind of a hot topic at the Foundation, you know."
Jotaro shifted in his seat and looked out his window.
"Which brings me to an important point," she continued, "I know why you're here."
Immediately, he looked back at her, eyes narrowing. That was supposed to be need-to-know information.
"I'm a Liaison for the Speedwagon Foundation. That's my official title, but I have a very specific job, and he is why you're here."
"You mean you–"
"Yes, and I'm aware of your history with him. Well, with the one from here." Her finger tapped the steering wheel pointedly. "I know you don't like him, that you have reason to not like him, and I know you won't like this one. But I'm imploring you not to start shit with him when you see him, okay? I've told him not to start shit with you so, you know, if you would be so kind."
Jotaro audibly gritted his teeth. This was just his fucking luck, running into that bastard's babysitter. "What makes you think he'd listen to you?" He growled.
"I don't know? He's been cool with me so far." She snorted. "I mean, he's an absolute piece of work, but it's been alright. No worse than teaching a class full of preschoolers can get on a bad day, but I did have to… establish that I can take care of myself against him."
"And how did you do that?"
"I stole his air," she said simply, "Made it impossible for him to breathe."
"Have you ever done that before? To someone else."
Her mouth fidgeted, eyes unreadable. They passed under the tollway in silence, broken by soft, ghastly wind chimes as a shimmering turquoise hand with a swirling wing shape on the wrist partially manifested on her shoulder, squeezing lightly before vanishing.
"You'll have to buy me a few drinks before I talk about that." Her voice was short, clipped. "I'm sure you have similar unlockable content you don't talk about otherwise."
It was a weird way to put it, but she was right. He did.
So he dropped the subject, looking back out the window.
"By the way, Catherine—Mrs. Gupta, rather—is here today, too," she said, tone easily switching from icy and guarded to light and airy, "She's the Regional COO, though I'm sure you know that. I'm told that she's the one who contacted you, after all."
Jotaro did not feel like answering. He didn't know what to say.
Sunnie merely glanced at him again, grinned to herself, and kept driving.
After Sunnie showed her credentials and pulled through the gated entrance of the new Dallas Speedwagon Foundation HQ, Jotaro let his eyebrows raise in surprise.
The previous location, having been built when Robert E. O. Speedwagon himself had struck black gold in Texas, was (while large) old, and it showed in its architecture and the relative closeness of the buildings. This, however, was a sprawling, modern campus with green spaces and fountains galore.
"We've got seven buildings here, but we'll be heading to the main one. Explore later if you'd like," Sunnie explained easily, searching for a parking spot. "I may be a… honestly kind of critical Subject Liaison, but I still don't have a dedicated parking space. That's fine, however," She lifted her finger and grinned, the sound of windchimes clinking in the air as her Stand fully manifested: lithe, vaguely robotic, feminine, and lined with light turquoise and shimmery silver. The face was mostly featureless and smooth like a plain mask, save for two large and sleek wing-like shapes on the sides, and two calculating but blank amber eyes. "We'll have her take care of this for us."
The Stand wiggled its fingers excitedly, then zoomed out of the roof of the car, unimpeded by the physical barrier. Jotaro watched, blank faced, then asked what could have been considered a very personal question.
"What's it's range?"
"Dust in the Wind's most powerful up to about six to nine feet from me, but she can and will travel quite far." That's… two to three meters, Jotaro translated in his head. "The further she gets, the less effective she is, but she's curious. She likes looking for things."
Jotaro huffed out the barest hint of a chuckle, remembering his time in jail before his trip to Egypt—how Star Platinum had brought him toys, beer, and reading materials in an attempt to placate him.
"I thought up this little tactic in college, since parking was shit there. It was cut-throat, honestly, so Windy helped scope out all the good spots." The Stand swooped down in front of the car and began nodding and pointing, motioning for them to follow. "Oh fuck yeah, it's a good one," Sunnie said happily before following as her Stand danced through the air in front of them, gracefully carving through the air. "She's playful. That's how I, uh, originally met… you know."
Jotaro looked at her, slightly confused. "Your Stand found him?"
She nodded, rounding a row of cars. "You know that weird feeling we got when we saw each other? How Stand users just kind of… know when other Stand users are around? I felt that when I first came here. She immediately jumped out and disappeared to find the source and found, well, him. Then he demanded to see the user, and bam," She shrugged, keeping one hand on the steering wheel, "We met."
Jotaro found himself grimacing at the mention of that man demanding anything and getting it. That piece of shit didn't deserve fuck all, in his opinion.
"Ah! There," Sunnie mumbled, pulling into a spot a row away from the front sidewalk. "She was right, it is good."
As she turned off the car and they both stepped out, Windy flew back to her user, nuzzling her face and disappearing. Sunnie grabbed her backpack and duffle bag from the backseat and they headed down the large sidewalk, lined with magnolias and sparkling water features.
"The old Speedwagon Foundation buildings are actually currently used for housing… supernatural objects. Like Stands tethered to items, fragments of pillars… there's this weird broken sword there that apparently possesses people, but when it does it just begs to be fixed," Sunnie rambled, shoving a hand in her long cardigan's pocket. Jotaro had to catch a breath, recalling that fight where Polnareff had indeed been possessed. That thing was here now? "This facility does a lot of R&D, field agent training, the like. Dallas has a lot of big companies around so they have some good deals, like with TI and stuff."
"You know a lot for someone who hasn't even been here for four months," Jotaro mumbled, glaring at the small woman. She glanced at him with a lazy smirk, the frog bell on her decorated backpack jingling softly as she walked next to him.
"I actually used to be in politics. Handled VAN data in my last campaign, but my strong suit was research. Following the money, making connections, y'know, all that mess," she said, tone light, "I know my way around things. Donor lists, requesting things under the FOIA, the like. I wanted to get a good picture of the Foundation before I thought about working here. And the rumors about their involvement in… supernatural matters interested me."
They walked through the large sliding glass doors into a cooled, busy lobby, shiny and sleek and new. Reflective surfaces, swooping centerpieces, statement greenery… it was impressive. What Jotaro did not appreciate was the eyes he felt on him the second he had walked in and the whispers that he knew were dancing around.
"Oh, Miss Green?" a receptionist pipped up upon seeing her, "And Dr. Kujo, oh!" The young man quickly patted down his curly chestnut hair, "I wasn't expecting you to–a-arrive together, huh. Well, Mrs. Gupta is waiting for you."
"Thanks, Mikel," Sunnie smiled, waltzing past the desk and towards a central elevator. Jotaro nodded his head slightly to the nervous young man as he continued to follow the smaller woman, stepping into the elevator. Sunnie leaned down (she didn't have to go too far) for a retina and thumb print scan, and the doors closed, the elevator smoothly starting up. They rode in silence, until the doors opened to a series of sterile white hallways.
"We're well underground, so you know," Sunnie mentioned as they began walking again. "It's easier to keep him down here with no threat of sunlight. The trick is that these lights outside his suite have a bit of UV in them. Sort of like how they keep the Pillar Man in D.C.," she informed him as they took a left, walking towards a large white double door. "Remember," she said pointedly, "No fights."
She leaned in for another eye and hand scan, and they passed through a short hall and through another sliding double door.
The first thing Jotaro saw in this more lavishly designed room was a tall, lithe, dark skinned woman with close-shaven hair wearing a golden pencil skirt and a deep forest green satin blouse, and stilettos that easily brought her close to his own height. Her expensive-looking gold jewelry and hoop earrings seemed to glitter as she turned her head towards the door, and her glossy dark red lips split into a dazzling grin.
"Sunnie! I see you've brought our guest," she said in a low voice like honey, lightly accented and melodic.
"Yep! I'm surprised he fit in my car," the smaller woman chirped as she walked into the room, "You didn't mention how tall he is."
The woman held out a well manicured hand, which Jotaro shook. "My name is Catherine Gupta. I became the regional COO of the Dallas branch of the Speedwagon Foundation a few months ago. It's good to meet you, Dr. Kujo."
"Call me Jotaro," he said, glowering at the door beyond them, "I'm assuming that's where he is?"
Mrs. Gupta nodded. "These newer facilities have several suites, some aboveground, some underground, for various purposes, if needed," she said, "When he came to us, it just made sense to stick him down here, where he is both protected and contained."
"Throwing him in a blender would be preferable," Jotaro grumbled, and Mrs. Gupta laughed lightly.
"Yes, yes, I'm aware of the Joestars' history with him," she said, shaking her head a bit, "The Foundation has extensive files on what happened in Britain all those years ago, as well as what you and your group went through. I've reviewed all of these multiple times to understand the situation fully."
"Well if that's the case, why the hell was I only recently informed of… this??" He gestured to the door beyond them, far past trying to hide the venomous rumble in his voice.
She pursed her full lips, "I wanted to tell you sooner, and believe me, I did everything in my power to convince my then-higher ups to let you know, but they were determined to keep it a secret from you and any other members of the Joestar bloodline. I felt that keeping it from you, however, was a moral failing. So I simply took the power I needed to make this happen."
He had to admit, he was impressed. She had said it so matter-of-factly that one might mistake it for an easy task, but he was aware that it almost definitely wasn't. The roiling rage he felt building inside his chest simply from being in proximity to that piece of shit subsided somewhat. "You have my thanks, then," he said quietly, "Does the Don know?"
Having been quiet up until that point, Sunnie shifted and the little frog shaped bell charm jingled, her head cocking to the side curiously. Jotaro took this to mean that she was unaware of his family tree.
"I'm still working on clearing that. I'm sure you're aware that there are a few more hoops to jump through when it comes to navigating our relationship with Passione," Mrs. Gupta chuckled. Hearing the name of the infamous Italian mafia, Sunnie's eyes blew wide and she covered her mouth slightly to whisper, 'yooooooo, what the shit, my dude', before Mrs. Gupta shot her a knowing smirk. "You would have found out soon enough, Sunnie. Just keep it secret for now, especially from him," she looked in the door's direction, and the shorter woman nodded enthusiastically.
"You got it, boss," she said, grinning widely, "Is… is the Don of Passione is a Joestar?"
"Indeed he is," Mrs. Gupta nodded, and Sunnie nearly flailed, whisper-shouting 'yo what the SHIT' again, causing the taller woman to laugh, "Though, I'll let you in on that later."
"Dope," Sunnie giggled, before noticing a tupperware box on one of the tables. "Oh～? And this is?"
"Murgh makhani from Janpreet. He made extra," Mrs. Gupta said warmly, before shooting Jotaro a glance. "My husband," she explained as an afterthought.
"FUCK yeah, tell him I say thanks," Sunnie giggled.
"Will do."
Jotaro had mostly tuned the two women out, however; he was staring at the door, glowering. Mrs. Gupta and Sunnie shared a glance.
"Welllll, I know you don't like him, but here we go. Time to face the music, I guess?" Sunnie said as she turned, her long cardigan following behind her as she nodded her head towards the door.
Mrs. Gupta raised an eyebrow at Jotaro, gesturing for him to go before her. He took a breath and turned to the door, steeling his soul and narrowing his eyes.
It was time to face Dio.
ゴゴゴゴゴ...
(Part 2)
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office hours
hi this is literally the most self-indulgent filth i’ve ever written ever in my whole life its just like all my fantasies wrapped into one big fic
also im not a math major don’t @ me
tags: afab reader, professor/student, age gap, desk fuckin, stockings, first time, Guilt, professor kink 👀
Siebren tried not to have favorites. He really, really did. He took pride in his ability to remain as objective and unbiased as possible, especially concerning his students. No matter their walks of life, their intellectual capabilities, or their attitude in his class, he treated everyone fairly and with the same amount of respect.
But you. You were different. You, who always sat in the front row, who always asked insightful questions, who often came by his office just to chat - he considered you less alongside the notions of “student” but closer to “friend.”
And you were brilliant, too - the likes of which he hadn’t seen in a long time. You struggled with much of the math (which is why you started coming to his office at all) but you had an intuitive understanding of the concepts behind quantum mechanics, something most students lacked. They could do the math fine without understanding the real-world significance it held, but you? You didn’t understand why it worked, but you understood the how, and it made class discussions more enjoyable. You often provided another angle of viewing things, and Siebren had been pleasantly surprised the many times it had been an angle he’d never considered before.
His class wasn’t easy - not that he purposefully made it that way, but the subject matter was extremely difficult. The grade you held in his class was a testament to how hard you worked. On top of that, he knew you also held the same work ethic in your other courses - all of your professors had nothing but glowing praise for you.
You were a kind, hardworking student with just a little too much on your plate. Siebren had a hard time not admiring you. He saw a little bit of himself in you, which is maybe why he found it easy to give you preferential treatment. Not when it came to your grades; he graded blindly, so there was no chance that he’d add a few extra points just because it was you, but in other ways.
Like the time you came to his office well past his normal hours with your bag slung over your shoulder and shadows so dark under your eyes he’d mistaken it for makeup. “Please,” you had said, “I-I know it’s late, but can I study in here? The library’s too crowded for me to focus, and my roommate has her partner over and they keep being...gross, and I just… I promise I’ll be quiet, please?”
You had sounded so exhausted and so close to tears that Siebren literally could not turn you away. He knew he’d be there for another few hours before he headed home, so he had ushered you into his office with a kind smile and brewed a fresh pot of coffee. Working with you in his office had been...so nice. You weren’t draining in the way that so many others were, and he had easily fallen into a deep focus on his research, aided by the constant sktch sktch of your pencil against paper and the soft symphonies flowing through his speakers.
God, when he found out you listened to Schumann…who could blame him for crushing on you?
It made him feel pathetic, honestly. A renowned professor with multiple degrees, teaching at one of the most elite colleges in the nation, crushing on his student? What kind of twisted pervert had a crush on someone more than half his age?
Him. He did. He was a dirty old man with more than “just a crush” on his favorite student, and he couldn’t get you out of his mind.
You were so cute, even on the days you showed up to his 8 am class in nothing more than an oversized hoodie and joggers, coffee clutched in hand. He loved it when you smiled for him, those tiny secretive smiles that made your eyes light up, or when you giggled genuinely at his god-awful puns despite the fact that no one else did.
The things he imagined doing to you were more shameful than he was willing to admit. Many times he found himself waking with your name stuck in his throat and a problem that he had to quickly take care of. Cold showers, unfortunately, didn’t help him any more than trying to ignore it. As of late he found himself in hand more times than ever before; he hadn’t been with a sexual partner in ages, and you stirred up feelings in him he didn’t even know he still had - feelings he shouldn’t be having, not toward someone who was so young, and especially not toward his student.
He had tried to curb his infatuation, once, by resolving not to give in to his urges. It had lasted all of three days and culminated in something so disgraceful he didn’t even want to think about it.
(He had once masturbated in his office just moments after you left, your scent still lingering in the doorway. As he fucked desperately into his hand, he’d imagined you kneeling secretively beneath his desk, supple lips around his cock. It’s still one of his favorite fantasies.)
He should be ashamed to call himself your professor, and yet...and yet…
A knock sounded at his door. “Dr. de Kuiper?”
Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. He jolted out of his thoughts, casting a glance at his desk where unfinished diagrams and unsolved equations sat. How long had he spaced out for…?
Siebren swiveled in his chair and found you standing in the doorway, hands clasped in front of you. His eyes were immediately drawn to your attire - blazer unbuttoned over a white dress shirt, cute pleated skirt dancing just above your mid-thigh, black thigh-highs accentuating your long legs…
You looked like a goddamn schoolgirl. That should not turn him on.
Even as he struggled to keep his eyes at an appropriate level, he couldn’t keep the genuine warmth and joy from his voice as he greeted you. “Oh, welcome! You’re not having trouble with the problem set, I hope?” He slid his glasses off his face and set them safely on his desk, prepared to have a nice chat with you.
“Ah, no, not really.” You stepped into his office, surreptitiously locking the door behind yourself. “I just wanted to see how your research was coming along, if that’s okay?”
“Of course, of course!” You’re always welcome, sat unsaid on his tongue. He gestured you over to his desk where he pulled out a holo-pad. As he drew up the latest 3D model, he felt your warmth settle into his side, your leg pressing against his own. He tried not to think about it.
“This is still a work in progress, but I think I’m getting closer to a vessel that can act as an appropriate harness.” The hologram flickered to life and showed a geometric model in the center, equations that you couldn’t even hope to understand running below.
“Ohhh,” you breathed out. You leaned closer to get a better look at the diagram, stepping a leg in between his so that you practically hovered over his lap. “This is neat!”
Siebren willed his heartbeat to slow down. You were so close. “Y-yes, well, like I said it’s unfinished. This is only a prototype.”
“Still.” You flicked the hologram, causing the model to spin as you investigated it. “It’s really cool what you’re trying to do. I mean, control gravity?” You glanced back at him, a smile playing on your lips. “It’s hard to believe that it’s possible.”
He felt his chest swell with pride at your words. “It is. The theorems prove that much. Now, it is simply a matter of finding a practical implementation. If we take a look at the equations…” He pushed himself away from the desk with the intention of grabbing said equations, but his foot got caught around yours and pulled you back with him. You ended up falling right into his lap with a sharp yelp, his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you steady.
Well. This was turning out to be more like the plot of a bad porno, and Siebren hated himself for being able to name at least three that started out this exact same way.
The way you were sitting meant you were straddling his thigh. Which...okay, it wouldn’t have been good under any circumstances, but it was particularly awful now because he could feel your heat through your thin underwear.
He tried to find words to make the situation okay, yet his mouth felt dry, his throat tight. Your face - as red as his felt - was mere inches away from his own. You fit against him like a puzzle piece, like this was meant to be.
“Please,” he whispered, not sure if he meant to ask for forgiveness or for permission, but any and all thoughts halted on the spot when he felt your lips press awkwardly against the side of his mouth.
God. You were so cute.
His immaculately-pressed self control snapped, and he raised his hands to cup your face and kiss you properly. You sighed into the kiss, open-mouthed, curling your hands into the soft fabric of his shirt. Your lipgloss tasted like cherries.
“We shouldn’t,” he mumbled against your lips. “You’re my student,” he insisted. “This is a-a gross...abuse of power, I can’t…”
And yet, here he was, unable to pull himself from you for even a second. His hands slid up your shirt to rest against bare skin, and you shuddered against him as he moved to mouth at your neck. You tightened your grip on the armrests, willingly tilting your head to expose more of your soft skin for him. Siebren sucked with the intent of leaving marks, lightly scraping his teeth across a sensitive spot, and you moaned quietly in response - a sound he’d been imagining fondly for the whole semester.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered your hips rolling slowly against his thigh in small, concise movements, like you were trying to be secretive about it. The image of you doing the same against his clothed erection made him choke on a moan, poorly hidden into your neck. You squirmed in his lap, fighting to shrug off your blazer, and in seconds his hands were atop your own.
“Let me,” he asked - no, begged - and gingerly shooed your hands away. You fisted them in your skirt instead while he slowly undid the buttons of your shirt, sliding it off along with your blazer. They fell into a heap of fabric beside his chair. His eyes lingered on your skin, hand tentatively resting against the soft planes of your stomach.
“I-I, um -”
“Gorgeous,” he breathed, lovingly running his hands down your sides. “You are absolutely stunning.” He brought you in for another kiss, this one more passionate than the last, and slid one broad hand up your back. Deftly, he undid the clasp of your bra, and you gasped in surprise and moved to cover yourself.
“Wait, wait,” you begged, and he felt you pull away from him. Instantly, his hands settled onto your clothed hips. He felt guilt rise up into his throat at your expression - you couldn’t even meet his gaze, eyes flicking to the floor.
“Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m going to fast, aren’t I?” Horrible, horrible, he was absolutely
disgusting -
Your hands settled on his, even as you turned your face away. “I just...why am I the only one getting undressed?” You looked up at him coyly through your lashes, and a relieved smile spread across his face. Okay. He could fix that.
“You’re nicer to look at than this old man,” he teased, and watched some tension evaporate from your shoulders.
“It’s not fair.” Your hands moved from your breasts to his shirt collar, fingers twiddling the button there. “Please, professor?” you whispered, and god if that didn’t make his cock jump.
He breathed out slowly through his nose. “All right,” he conceded, and coaxed you off his lap so he could stand. Your eyes fell to his lap, no doubt looking at his straining erection. However, you suddenly moved to hide your face behind your hands.
“Oh no,” you whispered. “I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t mean…”
He glanced down, following your earlier line of sight, and found a nice little wet patch from where you had been sitting. “We’ve only been kissing,” he said, “and you’re already this wet?”
It came off a little meaner than he meant, but behind your hands he saw your flush extend up to your ears.
Holy fuck.
Effortlessly, Siebren lifted you onto his desk, sending the contents clattering to the floor. You squeaked in surprise, momentarily latching onto him as your world spun - literally. Even though you were sitting on his desk, he stood eye level with you. He leaned in for another kiss as he began undoing the buttons of his shirt. A moment later, he felt another pair of hands join his.
“Let me,” you mumbled, looking shy but eager. “Please?”
He let his hands hang down by his sides as you worked his shirt open. He helped you pull it from his shoulders, and when his chest was fully exposed you flushed a pretty pink again.
“Wow,” you breathed, hands skimming over his toned abdomen, up to his deltoids, coming to rest against his biceps. “You’re...really hot.”
It was his turn to blush, but he took the praise in stride. “What, didn’t think your dusty old professor could be smart and strong?”
You bit your lip, shaking your head slightly. “I mean, I always kinda figured you were, ‘cause you have really toned forearms and sometimes when you roll up your sleeves I...never mind.” You ducked your chin into your chest in embarrassment, and Siebren pressed his forehead to yours.
“No, no. Care to share with the class what you were saying?” He was trying to be playful, but instead you flushed hotter, a soft whine leaving your throat.
“You’re just super nice to look at all the time and I really…” Your voice dipped so low that it he had to strain to hear the last bit. “...really think you’re attractive as hell.”
Siebren couldn’t name the emotion that rose to the surface, so he instead leaned in and captured your lips in a kiss. At least this attraction wasn’t one-sided, and part of him hoped that you had been longing after him just as long as he had. “I’m glad,” he whispered against your lips. He wasn’t ready to confess that he’d imagined you naked more times than he could count, but just knowing that you thought of him like that helped curb some of his lingering feelings of guilt.
His hands settled at the hem of your skirt. “Up,” he commanded quietly, and you braced yourself on his desk, lifting your hips. He slid your skirt and underwear off in one smooth motion, leaving you bare and exposed for him - except for those damnable stockings.
Siebren stopped, stared down at the black fabric covering your legs. A bow sat neatly at the top of each one, tiny and white with black polka-dots. His fingers trembled at the band of your left stocking.
“Do you like them?” you asked, sounding hopeful. “I thought of you when I picked them out this morning.”
Oh god. Oh, Jesus. He was fucked. You wore them with him in mind? “Were you hoping for this?” he asked instead, thumbing the bow at the top. Your face flushed a shade darker, smiling sheepishly.
“I’ve been hoping for this for a while,” you admitted. Both Siebren’s cock and heart jolted at those words.
God. He was so fucked. So, so fucked.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he groaned. He couldn’t bring himself to take them off, not after knowing that. Instead, he slid down to his knees before you, your thighs framing his face.
“W-wait, professor, what are you doing?”
He pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “What I’m about to do is called cunnilingus; or, in layman’s terms, I’m going to eat you out.” He relished your whispered oh my god and drew you closer to him, hooking your thighs over his arms, his hands holding your hips. He pressed a quick kiss to the top of your mound and went to work, laving the flat of his tongue across your entrance. You jerked in surprise, thighs attempting to squeeze shut.
“Professor!” you gasped, squirming. He stilled you with those strong arms of his and sucked mercilessly at your clit, causing you to arch up. Your words remained stuck in his head. Professor. Your professor. He was vile, incorrigible, a perverted old man, and you tasted so sweet.
Siebren pulled away just long enough for him to slide a finger into your wet heat, amazed at how easily it went in, aided by your juices and his saliva. “Does it feel good?” he questioned. Sometime between then and now you had ended up on your back, draped across his desk. His tongue licked a wet stripe from his finger to your clit and you answered him with a low moan, a hand finding purchase in his short locks of hair.
Your hips rolled minutely against his mouth as he pumped his finger in and out of you, voice filling the air with a litany of pleas and incoherent mumbles. He slipped a second digit in you and felt you clench around him, voice climbing higher by the minute as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. He stilled, instead placing a kiss to your inner thigh. “Be quiet, or we’ll have to stop,” he murmured. “The walls are rather thin.” Part of him almost wanted to be caught, consequences be damned. To have others know that he’s the one that has you so debauched, wound tight with need...the hicky was risky enough, he supposed, but he couldn’t help himself.
You wiggled your hips, drawing him from his thoughts. “I’ll be good,” you promised. “Please, professor?”
He waited a beat just to make sure you hadn’t drawn any unwanted visitors, before he descended on you again. He fucked you with his fingers at a brutal pace, mouth latching over your sensitive nub, and he didn’t stop until you went stock-still, hips trembling as you came. Siebren pulled his fingers from you and cleaned up your juices, making the most obscene noises as he did so.
“Oh my god,” you mumbled. “Oh my god, oh my god. I can’t believe...holy fuck.” You supported yourself with your elbows, watching him rise and hover over you. He settled his hands on your hips, a smug little smile on his face.
“Feel good?”
“Yes,” you hissed. “Holy shit. That was...the best ever. Wow. Thank you.”
He leaned down to kiss you, slow and even, and his clothed erection pressed against you. After a second, you pulled away from him, hands finding purchase on his shoulders. “Um, but what about you?”
“Hm?”
You wrapped a leg around his hips, rutting against his bulge for emphasis. “You’re still hard.”
Siebren shook his head slightly. “Oh, no, no. I made you come, that’s enough for me.”
“But it’s not enough for me,” you said, almost pouting. “You’ve seen everything; it’s only fair that you let me see all of you, too.”
How could he compete with that logic? “You and fairness,” he said, but nonetheless stood straight and began to undo his belt buckle. You watched with rapt attention as he dropped his pants, letting them bunch around his ankles. His cock bobbed free from his briefs, long and thick and leaking, and your eyes widened.
“Oh my god,” you breathed out. Siebren wrapped a hand around his length and stroked it slowly, smearing precum. “I really - um, will that even...fit?”
He laughed quietly, grabbing your legs and lifting them over his shoulders so that your hips were raised slightly. “I’ll go slow,” he promised, “but we won’t do anything if you’re unsure.” He meant it to be comforting, but you shook your head wildly.
“No, no, please. I want this, I promise, please. I can take it.” Even so, you kept glancing at his cock, mouth pressed into a fine line. Your fingers tightened imperceptibly on the desk.
“Please don’t tell me I’m your first,” he said, putting two and two together.
You grew shy, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. “I-I mean, kinda? I’ve done some stuff, but I’ve never actually...y’know.”
His cock twitched and Siebren ran a hand over his face. “Oh, mijn God,” he breathed. You were a virgin. You were his star pupil, his favorite student, and he was going to take your virginity. Him. Somewhere, he felt incredibly honored to know that you trusted him enough to let him be your first.
“Is...is that a problem?” You sounded so small and self-conscious that he felt something inside him break.
“No!” He was quick to reassure you, running a hand comfortingly down your side. “No, no, not at all, I just -” His voice softened. “Are you sure you want your first time to be with your physics professor? In his dingy office, no less?”
You curled your fingers around the hand at your hip, and Siebren was struck by the realization that your hands were so small, so tiny in comparison to his. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Professor, that I think if you don’t fuck me now I might actually die of desperation.”
That, at least, earned a laugh from him. Siebren placed a kiss to your calf and rubbed the head of his member against your slit, rubbing moisture onto his cock. “Ready?” he asked.
“Please.”
Slowly, slowly, he pushed into you. He groaned almost instantly at the sensation, hands gripping the soft flesh of your hips. It had been too long. “You’re so tight,” he breathed out, resisting the urge to bottom out immediately. “Am I hurting you?”
You wrapped your fingers around one of his thumbs, heels digging into his shoulders. “No,” you said, though your voice drifted into a soft whine at the end. “It’s...it feels like you’re gonna split me in half,” you confessed. He slid another inch into you and you shamelessly moaned into the sensation, eyes fluttering closed. “I love it.”
After what felt like hours, Siebren sliding into you inch by torturous inch, he finally fit all of him inside your tight, wet heat. He had to stop and catch his breath, convince his body that he really didn’t need to come right away.
“How do you feel?” he asked. His hands went and rubbed along your stomach; if he pressed, he was sure he’d be able to feel the head of his cock bulging against your skin.
“Full,” you responded immediately. “But...it doesn’t feel bad. Feels good.” You twitched unconsciously around him, body adapting to the intrusion, and he cursed softly under his breath. “You can um...move, I think. Please.”
Siebren rested his hands on your hips again as he began to pull out. Going in the second time was a lot easier than the first as your juices slicked his cock, and soon with each thrust he was bringing his hips flush with yours.
“Okay?” he asked you, sliding a hand up to your chest. “Tell - tell me if it hurts, okay?”
You covered his roaming hand with your own, holding tight to his fingers. “Good, it’s good, please don’t stop - oh, Professor, please…” You were whining now, head lolled back against the desk as Siebren set a relentless pace. He was reaching spots inside you that you didn’t even know you had, and one particularly rough thrust had you on the edge of a scream, arms flying akimbo over your head, knocking over a collection of pens.
“Shh, shh,” Siebren urged, clapping a hand over your mouth. His hips never stilled, desk rocking slightly underneath you. “People can hear you, they can - oh fuck -” Siebren stifled a moan into the soft fabric of your stockings, hot breath warming the skin underneath. “You’re so tight, so tight, goed god -” He pulled his hand from your mouth to instead paw at your chest, pinching one pert nipple between his fingertips.
“Pro-professor,” you begged, reaching for him. Siebren dropped your legs from his shoulders and pulled you into his chest, shifting you until you were sitting on the edge of the desk. You peppered sloppy kisses along his cheekbone, searching for his mouth, and he gladly gave it to you. The kiss was hot and messy, an aching mess of teeth and tongues that brought warmth to your chest and heat to your groin
“Professor, please, please, I’m g-gonna -” You cut yourself off with a needy keen, clutching at his shoulders, desperately rutting into him.
“Going to come?” he offered. He snaked a hand down between your bodies and began rubbing your clit. “Come for me then, baby. Come for your professor.”
He felt you clench around him, and quickly he closed his mouth around yours, swallowing all of your little sounds as you came. He pulled out and quickly jerked into his fist, muffling a groan as his cum splattered your stomach and upper thighs. For a moment, you both merely rested together, panting in the afterglow.
“Here,” Siebren finally murmured, unwrapping your limbs from around him. “Lay back, and I’ll get you cleaned up.” He grabbed a half-empty bottle of water and a few napkins, and wet them down slightly. Your eyes followed his every move.
“How do you feel?” he asked as he began wiping away the...evidence of your activities.
“Sleepy...and satisfied…” You jolted a little as the cool napkin touched your skin, soothed a second later by Siebren’s large hand. “But mostly tired.”
“No pain?”
“A little,” you admitted. “But that’s normal, right?”
He stopped, peering at you. “Is it sharp, stinging pain?”
You shook your head. “No, it kinda feels more like...like a sore muscle. I think it’s just ‘cause you’re too big.”
Siebren smirked, running his thumbs along your hipbones. “You’re just not used to me yet.” Without waiting for your reaction, he pulled away and tugged his pants on, leaving his shirt crumpled on the floor. Instead, he grabbed your discarded clothing. “Here, I’ll help you get dressed.”
Somehow, having him pull your panties on, sliding one stockinged foot into them at a time, felt more intimate than him bottoming out inside you. He insisted on helping you with every piece, which made you flush in gratitude, and only once you were fully dressed did he grab his own shirt.
Searching for something to do, you cleaned up the mess you had made of the pens on his desk, a thought suddenly occurring to you.
“Hey, you, um, you know your favorite pen? The one you always kept in your breastpocket?”
Of course he knew what pen you were talking about. It was one he used to grade all his papers and sign important documents. The ink flowed well and it didn’t smudge or bleed through. It was an excellent pen, but he had lost it about a month ago and hadn’t been able to find it since.
“Yes, what about it?”
“Well, uh…” You turned your gaze away, fingers playing with the hem of your skirt. “I um. Stole it and used it as...to...y’know. So please don’t think that this is one-sided at all! Or that you’re taking advantage of me, or that I don’t want this...because I do. I really, really do.”
A soft smile crossed his features, and Siebren leaned in close to kiss you sweetly. “Thanks, sterretje. You put this old man’s mind at ease.” He paused, thoughts backpedalling. “Wait, you used my pen for what?”
You flushed a brilliant red and laughed nervously.
Well, at least he knows where it went.
#.txt#sigma#siebren de kuiper#sigma x reader#overwatch#writing#gravity grandpa touches all of my kinks#he checks all my boxes#let me be self indulgent#also dont read this im gross lmfao#sigma's ethical dilemma of sleeping with a student can be summed up as follows: i have tenure its fine#btw the flashback of u working in his office? yeah u fell asleep and he walked u back to ur dorm#my biggest kink is dirty old men so uh#also i feel like his voice and characterization changes every time i write him#Why Can't I Be Consistent#also yes he's comin home and jerking it to u almost every night#ur welcome sinners#(its me. im sinners)#me to me: can u stop using - i dunno - hyphens???
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Dirt Off Your Shoulder || Blanche & Winn
[Part One | Part Two | Side B]
TIMING: Saturday, February 8th, 2020, Noon
LOCATION: White Crest General Hospital
PARTIES: @harlowhaunted & @packsbeforesnacks
SUMMARY: Winn doesn’t die, c’mon, as if. Blanche, exasperated: MEN.
WARNINGS: Medical blood, mentions of unhealthy coping mechanisms, potential self-harm.
Winn burst through the doors of the emergency room in the early dawn, shambling and groaning. Nurses were on him in seconds — typical, when a shirtless, shoeless man comes in, covered in blood, with a crossbow bolt sticking out of his shoulder. “It burns, get it out, please.” He fell to his knees, and a nurse’s hand jostled the bolt, causing Winn’s vision to go white and hot and please, please, please no, not like this. He felt himself being hauled up to his feet by firm, unwavering hands, but he knew he was slipping. The Hunter had gotten him good, probably to the bone. Not that Winn would ever find out, if they didn’t get it out of him quickly. The silver sizzled inside of him, and, oh, the lights were brighter now? He dimly felt a hand fiddle in his pants, looking for a wallet, but, fuck, Winn had forgotten it. Here lies, John Doe. A bubble of laughter slipped out of his mouth at the thought. Winn tried to open his eyes, tried to get them to focus, and saw the face of a man, lips pursed in obvious concentration as he assessed the wound. Had that much time passed? Fuck.
“Get him to Surgical Suite A,” the man said, “and get me Rodrigo and Aaron.”
“Yes, Dr. Harlow,” said one of the nurse’s, Winn thought, hoped. But. Wait. Harlow?
“Hey,” he gasped out, tugging on the sleeve of the good doctor as he started to turn away. “Tell Blanche I’m sorry, okay?” He coughed. “Adrien… too…”
That was the last thing that Winn remembered.
“Winn Woods?” Blanche repeated to the nurse looking at her like she had five heads. Blanche remembered her, she had been there when she brought Alain the other night. When she burst into the emergency room half in tears saying she needed help bringing someone in with a head injury. And here she was, again, this time looking for someone else. Adrien texting her asking how the hell she knew his hockey coach and accusing her of making her mother cry had not been great. “What room is he in?” And now she wandered the hospital in search of his room number, head down, hood up, and AirPods in. Her concern for Winn was the only reason she was subjecting herself to GhostVille, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she finally found the right room without having to talk to someone’s Great Aunt Sally.
“Winn?” Blanche poked her head in, relieved a circulating nurse wasn’t here. The one at the desk probably already texted her mother that she was here. Definitely wanted to avoid all forms of family while she was here. She brightened, though, when she saw him in bed. She found him!
Oh, wait, he was injured.
“Winn! Jesus Christ! What happened?”
Winn had woken up, which was a good first step to not being dead, he figured. Dawn had shaken off its frigid dew, burning into a spectacular morning, if the light streaming in through the window was any indication. He took a deep breath, noting the slowly subsiding throbbing in his shoulder — where he’d been shot, he was remembering — and tried to figure out how he’d ended up here. Most of the events after the Hunter — ‘cause it had to be a Hunter, right? who else would be out that early? — had put a bolt in him were blurry, elastic. He remembered finding the tree where he’d tied a pair of pants, bolting to the hospital as fast as his four legs could carry him, not really giving a shit who saw him. Changing back in the bushes, the way the silver lit up his nerves, and then… nothing. Huh. Problematic.
‘Course, more problematic still was Blanche Harlow showing up to his hospital room and— Oh, fuck, had her father operated on Winn? She asked him what happened, and Winn considered his options. He liked Blanche — trusted her way, way more than Noah, and he had found out Winn was a wolf (stellar week for Winn, really). Telling humans wasn’t always a mistake (hell, Winn had ended up a werewolf because some folks had trusted him) and Blanche seemed like the type to know when to keep her mouth shut. (Maybe to her detriment, but Winn couldn’t say much ‘bout that.)
“Close the door, Blanche,” he settled on, voice as even as possible. He paused, before adding, “Please.”
It was then that Blanche remembered his cryptic email from earlier in the week — he knew some secret about her and it had made her anxious enough to ignore his subsequent emails, and then he ignored her text and left her on read, which made her ignore his email about skipping class again. Not that that mattered, because he didn’t look too good. If her dad had seen him that meant it had been really bad. Blanche frowned at him but shut the door anyway — she glanced down the hallways to make sure Dr. Harlow or a visit from Nurse Harlow weren’t in the works. She turned and went to sit in the chair by his bed.
“How are you feeling? Are you feeling alright?”
Winn took a deep breath. “Blanche, do you trust me?”
Blanche stared at him, alarmed. “I— I mean—” Trust him. Sure. But she also kind of thought he was sort of an idiot and wasn’t expecting a question like that. “Of course I do. Why aren’t you answering my questions? Are you high—you told them you smoke, right?” Blanche clamped her mouth shut before she could get going on her anxious tirade of questions.
“‘S okay if you don’t. Trust me, I mean. You, er, might not, here in a minute. You wanna sit down? Wait. ‘Course. You’re sitting already,” he babbled, trying to calm his nerves. Winn had come out to folks all his life, but nothin’ was quite like the frenetic anxiety of tellin’ someone that you turned into a big wolf-creature once a month (... or so). And unlike when he’d told Noah — been, some might say, called out on his shit — Winn didn’t only have to nod his head to give an answer. No, he had to come clean.
Was this what it was like havin’ more than just wolves for friends? It’d been a while since he’d had either.
Another deep breath. “Alright, so. Sorry. Just… a lot. Uh, I’ll answer your actual questions, first. I’m feeling better, since your dad got the fuckin’ crossbow bolt out of me, but for a minute I thought I might be a goner — not tryin’ to scare you, just the way it is — and, uh, I mean, I haven’t… spoken to anyone? Just woke up a few minutes before you got in here. So, no, they don’t know I smoke yet, but ‘m also not high.” He snorted.
Blanche went from confusion, to more confusion, to wondering if she should call a nurse when her mind registered the words crossbow bolt. “You got shot?!” Her voice rose a few octaves, eyes bugging out of her head as she leaned forward on the edge of her seat. “Who?! What?! When?! Were you drinking?! I’ll kill them! What?!”
“Damn it, Blanche, calm down for a sec, I was gettin’ to that.” Winn sighed. “Sorry, I ‘ppreciate the concern, really, but, even if he’s a shit dad, your dad is a halfway decent doc. I’m fine.” A pause, as he studied the younger woman. If Winn wasn’t an only child, he got the feeling that, given his reputation as the Golden Boy of the Zhou-Delacour family, that his younger siblin’ might’ve been like Blanche. Bit of a spitfire, a little too “leap before they look.” Ready to literally kill for their friends, ‘pparently.
“I don’t know who. I already told you what—crossbow bolt, to my shoulder”—he gestured at the gauze packed into his healing wound—“and this mornin’ before I, uh… changed… back.” He let that particular revelation, vague as it was, hang in the air. “And, yeah, I drank a bit yesterday. Might’ve been a bit of an amateur about the aftermath, if ‘m bein’ honest.”
She shot him a look. The look that said she was not happy and also, she hoped, said that you couldn’t just tell someone to calm down after saying you got shot. Blanche opened her mouth to tell him just that, but the mention of her father made the words catch in her throat, a mixture of conflicting emotions on her face. She crossed her arms over her chest, listening, nodding along with his story until… “Wait— back up. You’re doing this well and you were shot this morning?” Blanche said, brows furrowing. “What do you mean changed back? What— Winn! Stop telling the story in parts! I keep getting confused! What’s going on!”
Winn groaned. “Alright, but, promise to just stick with me until I finish talkin’? No runnin’ out of the room. Pinky swear?” He held out his pinky, dead serious.
She made a face at him in disbelief. Now she was imagining the worst — drunk, frat boy shenanigans. Still, she wrapped her pinky around his. “Pinky swear,” Blanche said. “No running. Just tell me what happened.”
“So, I’m a werewolf—” Winn started, or tried to.
“You’re a fucking what?” Blanche immediately blurted out, jaw dropping.
“—and I—” Winn paused, looked Blanche dead in the eyes, and said, “I just asked you to stick with me until I finished talkin’. Whatever happened to ‘Yes and?,’ huh?” He smiled as best he could, given the coil of dread in his gut. “Alright, so, the short version — ‘cause not everythin’ is relevant to how I ended up here — of that story is that there’s a fraternity — shut up — of werewolves down South, and I rushed that fraternity, and I got turned into a werewolf partly because I’m really good at—” He cut himself off.
“Anyway,” he continued. “Some shit went down, I went to Europe for a while, I came back to the States, got some killer”—oops—“therapy, and decided that I wanted to become a counselor.” He’d tell her about Dorian, eventually. About Conner. About Jules. About the worst day of his life. “And I— Uh, I know I said that I would just tell this front-to-back, but y’sound a little like a tea kettle, B. Need a sec?”
Professor Hideki Okamoto had told her he turned into a fox a little after she accused him of being a murderer. Blanche had almost gotten sick then, but maybe that was only because of the dangerous fire trick he pulled… Though judging from the way her stomach tied itself up into a knot and the high-pitched distressed sound that was coming out of her as she sank low in her seat… “Nope,” she wheezed. “Keep going.” This was fine. Blanche knew werewolves existed! It wasn’t the weirdest thing in the world! But maybe it was a combination of the fact that Winn just got shot. “Wait— No.” Blanche held out a hand to stop him. She was about to slide right out of her seat and onto the floor if she kept doing that. Breathe. Get your shit together. She rushed a Hunter with a fucking sword in his hand two days ago! Some news about her friend wasn’t going to get her.
“Was it a Hunter?” Blanche asked, forcing herself to sit back up straight… and lowering her voice so she sounded halfway normal. It wasn’t working. “Oh my god. A Hunter went after you? Does he know you’re you?! Did he see you shift back? Where was this? Who was it? Did you see them?” She was on her feet now, her nervous energy better used as pacing. “Oh my God, I’ll have to get her—” Nell. “—to make you a magic blur bracelet too! Why do they always go after my friends? This sucks! I’ll kill him!”
Winn’s head buzzed, though he guessed he was partly to blame for that—Christ, had he really gone through a 24-pack yesterday? And smoked a bowl? And done some shots? Unhealthy coping mechanisms out the wazoo, he had. Then again, it wasn’t… strictly his fault that his world had gotten flipped on its head. The sheer magnitude of all of that hadn’t left him even if a crossbow bolt had knocked some sense back into him.
“We… are going to talk about all of what you just said later. Because, like, I’ll be honest, I’ve had a real shitty forty-eight hours, and I had no clue that you knew about any of that shit. Though, that, well. That explains the lack of faintin’.” He pursed his lips, humming a low note in the back of his throat. There was a cup of water on his bedside table he hadn’t noticed before, and he gulped it down greedily. Oh God. More of that. Please.
“You’re makin’ my head hurt more with that pacin’, B. Jus’ lemme finish, alright. Deep breaths. I’m here now. I’m alright. I’ve been a werewolf for longer than you’ve known I was a werewolf, and one measly crossbow bolt ain’t gonna take me out”—granted, it almost had—“that easy.”
“But—but—but that doesn’t even make sense!” Blanche burst, looking at him exasperated. “You got shot. By a crossbow!” As if he needed reminding. She let out a small groan though and practically threw herself back into her seat, pulling her knees up to her chest as she stared at him. She would mention, later, that she’d only been on the full train ride to all things Supernatural Fuckery for a few months, but now was a bad time to talk about that. Apparently. She took a deep breath to appease him. “Alright, alright. Continue.”
“So,” Winn started again, hopefully for the last time. He licked his lips. “So, I’m a werewolf, sure. But, apparently, none of my packmates figured I needed to know that wolves weren’t the only things hidin’ in the dark?
“So, Thursday night, I’m tryin’ to figure out why the Arena’s lights are fuckin’ up, and I go back to the electrical room and it’s just covered in ice. Somethin’ whips my phone outta my hand — sorry if you’ve tried to message me since then, by the way, forgot to tell ya for reasons that’ll become clear — and I end up fighting a fuckin’ Zamboni — don’t you dare fuckin’ laugh — with this older guy? An exorcist, I guess? Because ghosts are a real thing now?
“And I’m a pretty good guy, and I can compartmentalize, and it’s all fine, ‘s all good. I turn into a wolf every full moon, ghosts aren’t that big of a stretch. But then I go to this frat party, and I run into a Hunter because of fucking ‘course I do, but we’ve got bigger problems, because a monster tries to suck the fucking bones out of some undergrads. And at that point it occurs to me, y’know, what the fuck. How did I not know any of this shit?
“I get home, I throw myself into my bed, I message Remmy and Ricky to apologize for tellin’ them the chest on the beach isn’t cursed — because what the fuck do I know — and I pass out. And I wake up, and I skip class, and I down, just, copious amounts of booze and smoke pot to cope, because, as I’ll remind you, I had thought werewolves were the only fuckin’ thing around.
“Then, Remmy gets back to me, and mentions folks being able to do magic. And Ricky is a little shit and tells me ‘No duh, the fucking chest is cursed. We tried to tell you!’ And M—”—wait, no—“this other wolf I know, he tells me ‘I don’t know why you’re surprised? Did you not know? There are hundreds of creatures out there!’ and I’m like ‘Are you fuckin’ kidding me.’ So, I drink some more, I smoke some more, and it’s the fucking full moon of all fuckin’ nights.
“I turn, everything is just fine, I am in a part of the woods that I think no one will come out to, but I guess I’m an idiot, and I wandered too close to some asshole Hunter’s territory, so I get a shoulder full of silver bolt and they give chase and, not to scare ya B, but I only got away because I was lucky—or maybe the Hunter was just dumb. Either way, I find my jeans, put ‘em in my maw, and run to the hospital as fast as three-and-a-half limbs can get me. I cried in a bush. It was fine.
“And, uh, yeah, so, I was, y’know, a little bit of an idiot. And now I have a headache. But your dad got the silver out, miracle of miracles, so my arm’s… almost good? I think? It’ll take a little longer to tell.” He stops, giving her some time to let all of that sink in. “So, um, moral to the story, never shift while crossfaded?”
She had so many questions. So many. Blanche stared at him for a long time after he finished speaking. Too long, really. Her mouth hung open slightly, disbelief clouding her features. Maybe it was that she couldn’t believe Winn went to a frat party and fought a monster with bone sucking abilities with a Hunter. Or maybe she wanted to throttle him for being really fucking stupid.
Both. Definitely both.
“I—” she started, and then had to stop. “You—” Nope. “But—” She took another long moment of silence to formulate exactly what she wanted to say. “You fucking moron!” Blanche finally burst, running her hands down her face. “I’m not even a werewolf and I know that! Don’t get crossfaded and do anything other than prepare for the incoming hangover!” Like that ever happened in real life. “Okay, okay, not important. Where was the Hunter’s territory because I’m going to walk my happy ass over there and shove my foot so far down his throat that he’s going to wish I shot him with a crossbow!” Blanche leaned forward on the seat again, staring at him hard for a moment, and considered.
“Iseeghosts,” she blurted out. “There, we’re even.”
Winn blinked. Shesawwhatnow?
“I—” he started, and then had to stop. “You—” Nah. “Wha—” There was a knock at the door, and Winn froze, looking to Blanche for some indication of what the fuck he was supposed to do? “Blanche,” he whispered. “I need you to distract whoever comes through that door. If they check under this gauze, they are going to be pretty fucking confused, and I am going to be, how the kids say, fucked.”
“What do you mean?!” Blanche hissed, her brow furrowing as she stood slightly. “I don’t think I’ll be able to—Dad?!” Jean had let himself in, freezing at the sight of his daughter in the chair next to Winn’s bed. She immediately stood up, body tensing. She hadn’t seen her dad since that night in the gas station and she was not prepared. Knots of anxiety twisted in her and her palms began to get clammy and she felt like she was going to throw up.
“Blanche,” Jean said, stiffly.
“Uh—” She had backed over to the other side of the room while he moved over towards Winn.
“Mr. Woods, I’m glad to see you’re awake. I hope… your friend hasn’t been riling you up. I just want to check your shoulder, and I’ll be on my way to rounds—” Medical jargon started coming from him and Blanche watched in horror as he got closer and closer to Winn. Do something you moron! He trusts you to help!
Crap. What could she say to distract her father? What was mortifying enough to make him turn around and pay attention to her instead of Winn? Blanche thought hard, and of course picked the first thing that came to her head.
“Uh— I’m going on a date with a frat boy and having sex with him in a cave!” she blurted out. Jean, who was normally a very stoic and serious man, turned 40 different shades of red in about .2 seconds and whirled around to face his daughter.
“Excuse me?”
Blanche had her back pressed against the back wall, eyes wide as she tried to read whatever emotion that was on her father’s face. This was going poorly.
“Yup! So much cave sex! Lots of it. And I’m not even on the pill! And he’s probably too stupid to bring condoms! Whatever will we do? Oh yeah! Have sex! In a cave!”
Winn glanced around the hospital room for something that he could use to—well, to open his wound back up. Fuck, this was going to hurt. He looked back to his bedside table. Glass, no. Too loud, Dr. Harlow would notice glass shattering. Paper? No, paper cuts didn’t require trips to the emergency rooms. There was nothing. Except. He looked down at his hands. Fuck. Just then, Blanche started yelling about “cave sex,” causing Dr. Harlow to turn around.
Shit. Okay, now or never. Never let it be said that Winn didn’t do anything for the werewolf community. This was probably extremely gross, but Winn didn’t have time to think about that — his immune system would block anything bad, right? He tore the gauze away from his shoulder carefully, but quickly, clenched his teeth, and jammed his thumb into the closing wound, and yanked up, hoping he could approximate the damage that had been done to him.
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. He couldn’t stop a small gasp from coming out as he reopened it. Ow. He looked to Blanche’s face as she stared at him past her father, silently mouthing “sorry,” and pushing the gauze back town, taping himself back up as best he could. He wiped his thumb, bloody as it was, on his upper leg, underneath the hospital gown, and blinked away the tears welling up in his eyes.
Wait, did she say date with a frat boy?
“Blanche Louisa Harlow, how dare you disrupt a patient’s—”
“Yeah, Dad, whatever! We’re going to go into the cave and have holy motherfucking hell—” Guess when Winn decided to reopen his wound. “Sex,” Blanche finished, lamely. “Without protection.” Did Winn just fucking do that?
Jean looked fifty shades of angry, and Blanche sort of wanted to go die in a hole. She just said the words ‘cave’ and ‘sex’ consecutively and also implied a strong chance of pregnancy. Great. Awesome. Loved that for her. Anxiety was twisting her insides inside out and now she definitely knew she was going to be sick at some point that day. God, she was going to fucking kill Winn.
“And also, Winn was just saying how he wants to be discharged against medical advice!” Blanche hissed, shooting him a glare.
Jean made a face. “What?” His head turned towards Winn. “What?” he repeated, still confused.
“I—” Winn wanted to kick himself. He could’ve spent that time thinking of a better cover story instead of stabbing himself with his thumb. “Yes, I’m a, uh—” Quick, Winner, think of a religion that refused medical treatment. “Scientologist?” he tried. “Clearly, I wouldn’t have come here if I didn’t have no other choice. Clearly. And while I thank thee”—alright—“Good Doctor, it is time I take my leave of this place, lest my, um, soul not go to the great beyond and join with the Motherland.” Shit, dumbass, he didn’t know anything about Scientology. Other than Tom Cruise. Wait. “Tom Cruise would be very disappointed in me.” … Wait, no.
He smiled weakly at Dr. Harlow. “If I could just get some fresh gauze before I go, I’ll, uh, yep. Be… on my way.”
Was Winn talking about Tom Cruise?! NO! Blanche ran her hands down her face, exasperated as Jean stared at him like he had four heads. “Scientologists usually have cards—” The tiny card in their wallets with their identification. Blanche coughed loudly.
“He’s new at it, really—can’t you just get a nurse to redress his wound and grab the AMA paperwork so we can go?” Ah, so they were a ‘we’ now. Blanche realized the second she said discharge that it meant she was the ride home. That was fine, she just hadn’t been expecting it. Jean, clearly exasperated and angry, looked between the two one more time, before shaking his head. He moved and went to redress the wound himself.
It was painfully quiet for the three minutes it took him to do so. Painfully quiet. Blanche wanted to melt into the floor. “The nurse will be in with the paperwork shortly,” he said flatly. Jean moved towards the door, before turning towards Blanche. “We will discuss this later.”
Blanche was always quick to anger, but her expression turned stony as she stared back at her father, and she sneered. “No, we won’t. Get out,” she snapped. And he did. Letting out a slow breath, she turned towards Winn, waiting a few seconds. “... What the HELL was that?!”
“... I panicked?” Winn said, honestly. “Look, I just forgot that the Jehovah’s Witnesses—fuck, I could’ve said I was a Jehovah’s Witness—existed, or that people refused medical treatment. I’ve never not wanted to get proper treatment!” He tried for a joke, a half-truth. “Glad I didn’t have my wallet on me when I rolled in here, otherwise I think your dad might’a thought we were lyin’ or somethin’. Little cards, who knew?”
He winced as he rolled his shoulder, trying to get his body to get with the program. Damn it, he’d been asleep for most of the healing earlier, but now he’d have to actually deal with it. “But, uh, thanks for the… um, cave sex cover story? Don’t know where you came up with that one, B, but you really saved my bacon.”
The nurse came in, squinting at Winn as he handed him a clipboard and a pen. Great. He was definitely a hospital cautionary tale now. He went to leave as quickly as he had come, though, with only the vague assertion that they could use a wheelchair, being as Winn didn’t have any shoes. Which… fair.
“Can I keep the gown? I, uh… didn’t have a shirt either?” The nurse didn’t look very impressed, but nodded shortly, before shutting the door behind him.
“I knew about the cards!” Blanche hissed, but that was probably only because she had heard her parents bitch about them too many times whenever they were home. Still she stood in the corner as Winn got situated in his wheelchair, wondering how on earth she was not only going to explain how exactly she had come up with her cave sex story—thank you Regan—to Winn, but also how she was going to keep Winn from getting another crossbow bolt into his head.
The nurses would have a cow. Not only had he had major surgery, but he was leaving not long after he officially woke up. Blanche had her tonsils out when she was like 14 and that definitely wasn’t how this was supposed to work. Though, she didn’t imagine she was going to be shoveling excessive amounts of ice cream into Winn’s mouth. If anything, he was going to give her ice cream.
“For the record,” she grumbled when they were finally cut loose. “I’m not having sex in a cave—we’re going on a hike! A regular hike! And I hate you.” She stewed. “Okay, no I don’t, I’m going to kick someone’s ass for you but oh my god, Tom Cruise is going to be disappointed in me?! Winn!”
Winn shrugged, sheepish, and dodged the less-than-salient (or, less favorably, boneheaded) points. “Like I said, though, I don’t know the Hunter who shot me. You’ve got no one’s ass to kick.” It was a bit odd, how easily he fell into the assumption that Blanche knew a.) more than he did about the supernatural, but b.) that he knew far more about protecting himself from Hunters than she did or could.
“So, uh, I know that I just got crossfaded to my immediate detriment yesterday, but, um, d’you wanna get high? Because I feel like both of us need a come down. A vent sesh.” Oh! Speaking of which. “So, wait. This means you didn’t know I was a werewolf? I thought you’d figured it out!” And then he’d told her anyway, and the world hadn’t ended, so, really, he was at fault here. In his defense, it had been a rough week. One that looked like, thankfully, it would end on a high note.
“Oh, trust me, I have a few ideas on whose ass to kick,” Blanche muttered, a certain French hunter coming to mind. Well, two French hunters coming to mind. Except only one of them had admitted to hunting beasts. Of course, it couldn’t be Kaden’s fault, the coincidence would be too strong. She shook her head. “Whatever, I’m just glad you’re okay. Adrien scared the shit out of me, you know.” Blanche looked at him and stared at him. She thought about the week she had. Her nasty panic attack, the whole Alain situation, Kaden’s stupid fucking ghost, and the mistakes she made with Regan and Remmy, and considered.
“No, I actually didn’t know you were a werewolf. How the hell did you think I figured that out!” she said, frowning. “Yes, I’d like to get high,” she confirmed, digging in her pockets for her keys. “Desperately.”
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power over me
a/n: i tried to have some sort of plot going lmao. also this is six pages on google docs
word count: 3255 (!!!)
warnings: smut, light dom/sub, idk
masterlist
She will be the death of me.
Bucky felt his cheeks flush for the millionth time during his class as he continued his lecture on the use of mathematics in wartime. He tried to keep his eyes moving throughout the classroom but the pull was irresistible and he found himself glancing over to the girl in sitting in one of the seats that were directly in the middle. He could see you was wearing a short skirt, legs open revealing your panties in his favourite colour.
He checks the time on his watch seeing that he only had to go through this torture for five more minutes before he could go home and jerk himself senseless. A student’s cough brought him back to reality. Bucky looked over to his desk and saw the piles of paper. Right, he thought to himself, he could pass those out and kill time. Once the papers were passed out, he spoke about some general feedback he noticed on all papers as he graded them. He gave them instructions on what they need to do for next week before dismissing them.
Bucky quickly manoeuvres his way to stand behind his desk, hoping to hide his growing erection. A few students wave him goodbyes as they shuffle out the room. He held his breath when it was your turn to pass him.
“Goodbye, Professor Barnes,” you said sweetly, sending him a wink.
“Goodbye Ms. Y/N,” he responded, letting out a deep breath.
Once the last student left, he exhaled in the now empty room and leaned forward, more papers sticking to the bottom of his sweaty hands. He tried to clear his mind, he had to think of something else, anything else than the mouth watering sight of his student showing him everything.
The sound of the door opening caused him to look up. He was wide eyed when he watched you click the lock.
“Hello, Professor Barnes.” You walked with a sway of your hips to him until you were standing next to him, close enough to smell his cologne.
Shit.
You both gazed in each others eyes longingly; not a word spoken by either of you. Just letting the silence of the empty lecture hall engulf you in a safe bubble. You had been lost within the breathless paradise of Bucky’s dreamy eyes and no sooner without authority he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you close up against his chest. Bucky was all logic and feigned cool detachment until he was near you, touching you. Then something not only stirred in him, but took over his thinking. The rest of the world became an unimportant blur, the only thing that mattered was your body leaning against his.
A hand of his gently glided through your hair, as he continued to look at you in a way he had never looked at anyone before. In the complete brightness of the fluorescent lights, your eyes still seemed to be like candles in the night, their light a spark of passion, a desire. As a small but teasing smile crept up on his face he began kissing your neck; the spot that Bucky knew that once he touched it with his lips, any resistance you had left crumbled. Kissing that spot was like turning the key on an engine. Once it’s done, you’re ready to be all his. Every kiss you shared had a raw intensity- fast breathing and heart beats becoming faster. An intensity so strong that goosebumps lined your skin, not the kind that one gets in the cold, but the kind one gets when nothing else matters except for the right here, right now. A single touch is enough to cause your skin to tingle in a frenzy static.
And suddenly you feel Bucky’s lips brush against yours. Not innocently, like a tease but a hot demanding fiery passion.
“Y/N,” he whispered slowly, almost prolonging each letter as if to savour them. A smile etches onto your face at the sound of his voice. A sound that can have your heart flutter in an instant. You clasp your hands on either side of his face, unable to hold back and resist any longer, you pressed your mouth hungirly to his. A gasp escaped your lips when you felt your back hit the cold whiteboard. Bucky chuckled into the kiss, not being able to fully pull away. To him, your kisses were his salvation and still his torment. He would live for them and die with the memory of them on his lips. You slung your left arm around his neck, fingers playing with the ends of his hair as your right hand began to greedily undo his dress shirt. Your lips parted for only a second before clasping onto one another once again with an added pressure that caused both of you to moan.
Bucky took your hand away from his shirt and you whimpered but soon forgot about the shirt once one of his hands slid smoothly up your arm and pinning it against the whiteboard. Drunk on endorphins, every thought was obliterated from your minds. It felt as if your brain was on fire and you could feel the warmth spreading throughout your body. And just like the first time Bucky had kissed you, you knew you were addicted. Reluctantly, Bucky removed his lips from yours and letting your arm fall to your side as you started to leisurely open your eyes. He stares back at you with calm eyes and rested his forehead against yours. Bucky nuzzles your neck and pressed delicate kisses along your shoulder.
“Professor,” you said in a breathless whisper. Bucky groaned and his hands gripped your waist a little tighter.
“Let me help you,” you continued as your fallen hand softly strokes his hard on through his pants. God, you were like a drug to him. One touch and his intoxication is instant. It puts his mind into a frenzy of sparks and engulfed all his senses and stole his worries. He knows he’s addicted, but it’s fine with because he also knows you’re equally addicted to him.
You push yourself off the whiteboard with a had splayed out on Bucky’s chest, pushing him until his body makes contact with the desk behind him.
The moment he felt the hard wood against his body, he created a vice grip around the edge of the desk; almost to the point he’s worried that it might crack but every worry vanished as he watched you slowly fall to your knees.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he mumbled when your fingers began to undo his belt buckle. Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off you as you took his cock out of the confines of his pants.
“Jesus,” he groaned just as you closed your lips around the head of his swollen head and sucked it into your mouth.
“Such a hot little mouth you have, baby.” He stared down at you and loved the way your eyes locked with his. Bucky couldn’t understand how one could look so innocent and naughty at the same time like how you looked right now.
Almost as if on instinct, he jutted his hips upwards with a groan, sliding himself deeper into your mouth, receiving a muffled hum from you. The noise caused him to thrust again, loving how the vibrations felt around his dick.
You pulled back, popping him out of your lips before running your tongue along the base of his shaft.
“Mmm, you taste so good,” you said in your most seductive voice, “professor,” and winked at him. In that moment, Bucky swore on his life that his dick is the hardest it’s ever been.
A loud ‘oh fuck’ escaped his mouth as he felt your tongue fondle his balls, feeling how you twirled it around and lapping them up. He shudders against the desk, causing it to scrape the floor as it gets pushed back when he feels your hand slide up his thigh before you started to jerk him up and down.
While he emitted a louder groan than before, Bucky threw his head back, surrendering himself to you completely. There can’t be anything better than this he thought to himself, letting the pleasure soak right into his bones. He wanted to feel this with you, be with you forever, if possible. Bucky closed his eyes and savoured the moment, afraid that it would be ruined due to his schedule. He never lightened his grip on the desk and for the first time that week, his body and mind were relaxed. In that moment everything was about you and him. Bucky’s eyes snapped open and were wide when he looked down at you, just in time to see you suck his balls into your mouth.
“Fuck, baby.” You let it go only to suck in the other one, taking turns eating him up. Bucky noticed the cum that had immediately started to pool at his tip as you continued to stroke him in long hard pulls.
You felt one of Bucky’s hands run through your hair. You knew they were callused and rough, like he’d had a difficult life and worked twice as hard for everything he had. But it suited him and even though they were rough, his hands were warm brought tingles to your nerves whenever he made contact with you. Bucky loved your hair. He especially loved it in times like these were he would grab some and watching it slip through his fingers when he released it.
He was brought back to the present when he heard himself make a low grunting sound and watched the creamy white fluid slide down his shaft as it ran along the ridges, oh so slowly. With a smile, you flattened your tongue and began to suck on his cock like a candy cane. Each movement of your mouth edged him on until he gripped your hair harsher than before and humped your mouth with a purpose. Each thrust was harder than the last until he slammed into you and Bucky swore you made the sweetest sound he ever heard. He finally let go of your hair and pulled away from you, shivering slightly as his cock felt the cool air instead of being inside its warm home.
You were about to say something but stopped when Bucky growled and took control of the situation. He tossed the papers that were sprawled out on his desk aside, not caring if they got crumpled or ripped and ignored the several that fluttered to the floor. That was problem for the future, right now he needed you. You yelped when Bucky dramatically pulled down your skirt, leaving you standing there in nothing but your shirt and panties. Bucky’s eyes slowly raked down your body, drinking you in. With a huff from Bucky and a squeal from you, he lifted you onto his desk, your legs open for him to stand between. A deep curve on her lips makes Bucky stop anything he’s doing. It’s the smile that brings back a million memories in a split second. It was infectious and calming. Soon he felt the calmness pass through him like a warm ocean wave, washing away the stress of the day. They say eyes are the gateway to the soul, and that was true but for Bucky, the lips were the same thing for the body. He pressed his mouth to yours, really feeling the softness, passion and the promise of the sweetness to come.
Dizzy with exaltation, you raised your arms, helping him pull your shirt off. Bucky licked his lips at the sight of your breasts practically spilling out of your bra. He unhooked your bra masterfully and his mouth immediately went to your tight, perky nipples. He sucked them into his mouth just as you had done to him only minutes ago. You mewled and moaned as your fingers slipped through his hair, tugging and pulling him closer to you. He pushed you back until you were completely laid out on the desk before he crawled over you, his hands ran down the length of your body and dipped under the seams of your panties. You and Bucky simultaneously groaned at the feeling of his fingers moving in and out of your wet pussy. His mouth latched onto your nipple and growled.
“Such a wet little slut for me, huh baby?”
“Mm, yes,” you moaned with your eyes closed.
“Yes, what?” He demanded. You opened your eyes and looked into his dark lust clouded ones and responded, “yes, professor.” Bucky’s cock throbbed even more at the sound of your innocent voice that begged for him.
“Is that so? My baby girl needs my cock.”
“Yes, Bucky.” He pushed his fingers deeper inside of you and in a low husky voice he asked, “yes, what?”
“Yes, Professor!” Your hips swivelled around in a tantric dance while Bucky watched with a smirk as you humped his fingers. The pace he had set picked up and you squealed and spread your legs wider for him. He finally had enough with the material blocking him, so in one swift sweep, he grabbed the seam of your panties and ripped them off with a growl. There was nothing more bewitching than seeing your naked form. Your pretty pink slit glistened for his attention, something he was going to deny you of. He bent down and ran his tongue along the opening and made sure he memorised the taste of you. Once again he climber over your body, his large hands were placed on either side of your shoulders while your own hands running up and down his arms before clamping around his biceps when his cock slid through your swollen folds.
“Fuck,” you moaned loudly. And when his muscles tensed up, your fingernails digging deeper into his skin, leaving crescents in their place. You knew you sounded desperate when you whimpered and sobbed as your hips continued to swivel, but Bucky loved it. He was on the edge and he loved teasing you.
“Feel that hard cock, baby girl?”
“Yes.” Bucky shifted all his weight onto one hand as the other slightly cupped your chin and pulled it upwards. His lips coming dangerously close to yours.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Professor!” You screamed out, “please give it to me.” He let go of your chin and steadied himself once again.
“That’s it baby, rub that tight little pussy on me,” Bucky moaned as he slid the tip of his cock in your entrance. “Fuck! No wonder you’re so needy. You need my big cock spreading these tight lips.” He teased your entrance more, sliding his thick mushroomed head in and completely out causing you to whine needingly and you could feel your legs begin to shake. Bucky only smirked knowingly. He was hitting your sweet spot with the rim of his head and your pussy was contracting so sweetly around it.
Bucky grunted and looked down at you, it was your hands that had the tight grip on the edges of the desk, a sight he would definitely remember next time he was teaching. Your breasts jiggled as you tried to slide yourself further down his cock. Every time you slid down, he would slide out until you were wiggling in desperation and begging him.
“Just put in me, please” you whined, adding “professor” to the end. At that, Bucky growled and perched himself above you, watching his dick sink into you.
“Oh, fuck!” You groaned, arching your back at the feeling of Bucky’s cock splitting your pussy open. He felt your cunt spasm around him as his heavy sack rammed right up against your puckered asshole.
Your hands cupped Bucky’s face, pulling him foreword. A small lock of hair tumbled in front of his face, resting just in front of his cheek, but with one swift slide of your thumb, it was brushed out of the way. Looking into his eyes, you saw the pools of blue that displayed his soul. Suddenly you felt his lips touch your cheek your heart that had been pulsing wildly came to a halt. Your breath caught in your throat. A small grin crept onto your face. Bucky pulled away silently, but still locked eyes with yours almost as if having a private conversation of their own. Bucky had told you once that a simple peck can convey as much meaning as a full-on kiss, simple though it may be, a kiss on the cheek is special in its own, unique way.
Bucky slowly started to drag his cock out and glide it right back in, your pussy eagerly swallowing him up.
“Fuck baby,” he said in the hushed silence that enveloped you.
“Harder Professor, harder,” you replied causing the tension in the room to shift. Bucky sat up as much as he could and forced your legs up and back against your chest. He started to fuck you harder, his balls smacking against your ass
“Unngh, fuuuck!” Your pussy was making the naughtiest, juiciest sounds as it slurped up his cock.
“This pussy is all mine. So fuckin’ perfect.” His gaze was filled with raw hunger.
“All yours sir!” You cried out as he slapped your tits, your pussy squeezing around him. Bucky dipped his head and closed his mouth over one of your nipples, soothing the sting.
“Gonna take what’s mine.” He gripped your wrists and pinned them above you, his broad chest skimming your breasts and igniting your whole being.
“Yours! All yours!” You screamed as your orgasm tore through you. Your sweet body lifting up from the desk, the sweat causing more resistance than normal, your curves rippling as your hips danced wildly on his cock. Bucky continued to pump into you and he could feel himself twitch with anticipation. His dick swelled up so thick you cried out even more at the feeling. Your shudders ran through your body as your pussy pulsed around his cock. All of Bucky’s muscles tensed as his thrusts got faster and harder and on that last thrust he groaned, emptying inside of you, load after load which he reckoned was the hardest and longest cumload he’d ever spurted. Bucky collapsed on top of you and you giggled, his cock still buried deep inside.
“Was that what you were talking about?” You asked once your breathing returned to normal, stroking your fingers through his hair.
“Oh god, yes.” He leaned down to kiss you and looked up at his wife. “Did you like it?” You grinned in response, “it’s a lot more fun in an actual classroom than at home.” Bucky hummed and pecked your lips before pulling out and helping you sit up.
“Do you think the others noticed the new classmate?” He asked as he began to dress himself.
“I think they were too focussed on this,” you replied, giving his sock a soft squeeze before helping him tuck it in his pants.
“That obvious?” His face scrunched up in worry.
“Absolutely,” you laughed. Bucky smiled as he watched you fumble around your clothes.
“By the way,” you said and he made a noncommittal sound, “you destroyed my underwear, so I’ll be going out without panties, Professor Barnes,”
His eyes darkened slightly but he couldn’t help but laugh once you began as you started to walk passed him towards the door.
“Easier for me when we get home, Mrs. Barnes,” he said, giving you an affectionate slap on the ass.
tags: @sebashtiansatan @dewy-biitch @denialanderror @floatingpetals @softhairbarnes @just-add-butter @deartomhardy @moonstruckhargrove @sugalight @before-you-label-me @thesaltyduchess @nedthegay @bluesprees @girl-next-door-writes @thefridgeismybestie @sebbysimblr @extremeobsessions101 @fernfranklin @wwhitewwolff @sebastian-stan-is-great @keldachick @oberyners @chinalois
THIS SUCKS??????
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Bitter, Like His Name
David Webster, what a guy.
At least, that's exactly what Joseph Liebgott wouldn't say if he was asked about the Harvard college boy slash mediocre paratrooper.
No, he would spew out all available profanities under the sun, not sparing any for him to even catch a breath. All before following it up with a prompt, "Fuckin' Webster? He's a putz if I ever did see one."
"Didn't you fight in the war together?" One unknowing bastard would ask, which would be received with perplexed irritation and a flurry of curses on Liebgott's end.
"What's it to ya?"
The inquirer would shrug apprehensively, and that would be that. If only Liebgott could forget as easily. Webster would hang on Liebgott's tongue like a bitter smack in the mouth. It tasted very much like the steaming pig slop they were forced to eat during the war. It churned around in his stomach, providing a welcome heat to ward off the cold, but bringing with it an ache that came with eating something that looked like it should be coming out and not in. Disgusting, but it was exactly the word Liebgott would use to describe the feeling he got at any mention of the man.
At reunions, Liebgott stayed the fuck away, and Webster did the same. They remained somewhat civilized in front of the other men, or at least tried to. A bloody fistfight broke out once when Webster got a little too drunk to replace the filter on his fast-talking smartass mouth, spitting out a few insults at the expense of Liebgott's Jewish roots. Any form of witty banter was not uncommon during these get-togethers, but all men in Easy (what was left of them, anyway) knew to never, ever provoke Liebgott with mockery that could be construed as anti-Semitic.
Webster knew that, and he knew it well. Flashes of that day in Landsberg come to mind, where Liebgott was helplessly cornered into imprisoning his own people. He cried, angrily, hopelessly, and none of the men gave him any shit for it. Webster wasn't there to see it, but heard it from the other men. The story was so incredibly vivid, a Jewish man sent to put Jewish people back in their cages.
But the most vivid, most impossibly colorful, most real memory to Webster, was that man in the small house on the hill they had driven up on to kill.
"Is this personal to you?" Webster had asked.
A gunshot, a man with a bloodied neck running for his life, and the desperate scream of a soldier only wanting to get his futile revenge for his wronged people. It was only after the fact that Webster realized that it was personal. The stinging welt Liebgott left on his face at the otherwise happy reunion only reinforced that.
A bag of frozen peas was tossed to Webster before he was guided out of that unnamed bar they held company gatherings at, and the last image Liebgott had of Webster was that of him perched on the steps, with his back turned, his head slowly and drunkenly lolling forward, before somebody closes the door.
"He'll be alright," someone had said to nobody in particular, "Doc's gonna drive him home."
Liebgott simply nodded, concerned but irritated, clucking his tongue as he nursed an equally impressive bruise of his own, along with a cut on his brow. Blood trickled down his face and into his mouth, it was as bitter as Webster's name.
That was the last reunion Liebgott and Webster ever attended.
The name Webster pops up on numerous occasions after that, and for years Liebgott is haunted by a man he only wishes to forget. He regrets this one day, when a call comes from Skinny.
"Web's gone... Dead, they think."
Liebgott had gotten old and happy and just a little bit grey, at forty six, with eight beautiful children and of course, a beautiful Jewish wife. That was all forgotten for one terrible moment when he heard the news.
Webster had been out on the ocean, studying sharks of all things, but never came back. Liebgott jokes, "You know Web, he tries to get outta everything." A dark chuckle.
"Yeah," Skinny laughs along, but continues on, "There's gonna be a funeral, Lieb. If the last search party turns up with nothing... Or they find a body. His wife wants the whole company attending."
Liebgott hangs up, he almost breaks the reciever, and his stomach churns even more. He has to hold onto something. He can't even begin to believe it. His mind goes back to their trip to the Alps during the war, when their relationship had reached a turning point. They had become close enough to exchange stories and they did just that. Liebgott wished they had stayed that way, stayed... Friends? He didn't really know what they were at the time. Nights sleeping next to each other, days marching side by side, afternoons hunting and scrounging together, and evenings sharing rations, coffee, cigarettes and pig slop. It was good until that day on the hill.
But that wasn't all. Immediately after the war, years before that one fateful reunion, Joseph Liebgott had decided to disappear from the face of the Earth, from his family at least. He was gone for three years, and maybe it was premeditated, maybe it wasn't, but one day in the middle of that big furlough, he found himself all the way across the country from his home, at Harvard, of all places. The name David Webster was met with either dismissive annoyance (expected), or great pride and admiration (ear-splitting and frankly, disturbing). There was no in between.
Finally, a useful clue, "Kenyon Webster? He's in the english lit. building."
It wasn't long before Liebgott found the literature building, but his hesitation took him about half an hour before he decided to finally come in. He wandered the halls looking very much out of place, everyone wore suits or dress shirts with silk ties, and there he was in an old oversized bomber jacket and cracked leather shoes. It was a miracle that he even found Webster among the many college boy clones he had sat camouflaged in.
Webster had looked up from his reading, "Lieb?"
Liebgott didn't answer, dread and shame had suddenly hit him across the face, what the hell was he doing? He left quickly, but to his chagrin, Webster got up to follow him outside. Liebgott didn't stop there, he kept walking, and Webster kept following. They reached the edge of a small patch of trees and Liebgott trudged in through the brush.
Liebgott tried to joke his way out of a confrontation, "Kenyon, really?" He mocked, but failed to avert Webster's attention.
"Why are you here?" Webster started. "What are you doing here, Lieb?"
"I don't know, okay, Web? Fuckin' get off my back about it."
Webster started to protest, "You're the one who turned up all of a fucking sudden–" but fell silent, somewhat in realization and somewhat in pity. His hand found its way to Liebgott's shoulder, "Well, you're a long way from home, bud."
"Yeah, no shit, Professor."
Webster sighed, "Look, do you need a place to stay or not?"
They spent that night on the couch in Webster's obscenely decadent dorm room, drinking to Easy company, the end of the war, their 'victory.' There was no mention of dead Nazi commandants, dead concentration camp victims or even dead paratroopers.
For a moment, all was right. But like all good things, happiness is as fleeting as life. Liebgott had gone early the next morning. A warm blanket draped over Webster's shoulders and two empty bottles of whiskey were all that were left of him. The events of the previous night were lost to Webster as well. However, a faint swelling of his lips told him that maybe a bit of catching up among friends wasn't the only thing that transpired between them. He tucked the thought far away into the back of his mind and never brought it out until they saw each other again.
The first time they met again at a reunion, they didn't even look at each other. The second time, a year later, they returned to the usual squabbling and leg-pulling. But, like a charm, by the third time, they were drawing blood.
Liebgott doesn't really know why he decided to get that violent with Webster. Granted, his comments had warranted a little more than a light slap on the wrist, but maybe not a mouthful of blood.
Just like Liebgott, Webster didn't like the way he had spoken to Joe. Drunk as he was, he didn't mean any of it. Maybe Lieb's leaving him so abruptly with so many unanswered questions had hurt him a little more than he would have cared to admit.
Joe on the other hand, concluded that maybe he just wanted to put a sense of finality on his decision to forget David Webster and the night they spent together.
Of course, fate will still be everlastingly cruel, even in the granting of wishes. Now Joe would have no choice but to forget, even if the hunger to forget was not with him anymore. David Webster would be lost to him forever.
#webgott#david webster#joseph liebgott#joe liebgott#hbowar#docgorpywrites#band of brothers fanfiction#band of brothers
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a ( VERY LONG) long island geek rundown
aka me just rambling on about paul for paragraphs upon paragraphs, complete with pictures.
so i went to the con with the lovely @haiileyrutledge aka maggie who drove me all the way there from the philly bus station (god bless), it was our first time meeting in person and i still can’t really believe we did this just a few months after we were just kinda joking about going together on twitter when we hardly knew each other
literally the first second we walked into the con, before we’d even gotten our badges, paul mcgann was sitting RIGHT THERE at his autograph table and i may or may not have started aggressively hitting maggie in the shoulder and freaking out and hissing “he’s there, HE’S THERE” and she had to drag me past him so we could get our badges
then we sat in on the panel before his to make sure we got good seats for his. it was a panel with wendy padbury and frazer hines and they were adorable!! by the end of their panel we were literally buzzing tho bc we knew what was next
when paul came in the first thing he did was squint up at the ceiling and complain about the brightness of the lights, like “oh this is quite harsh isn’t it” so they turned them down for him, much to maggie’s chagrin bc she’s a photographer and it made it very hard to take nice photos (look forward to her uploading her photos btw, she got some GREAT shots regardless of lighting)
then we all sang happy birthday to paul, per the interviewer’s instructions! it was v cute. someone uploaded a video of it on youtube. (i took one too, but it was much worse quality)
first question the interviewer asked was what the secret to paul’s eternal youth was, which paul took a SUSPICIOUSLY long time thinking about before finally just claiming it was his insomnia. how not sleeping is supposed to make you look better i have no idea, but it’s clearly not hurting paul’s appearance, despite him “not having slept since the nineties” (his words)
and so on went the panel. it was quite fun, and though i’d heard almost all the anecdotes paul told before, they weren’t ones he’d told a million times and the interviewer asked interesting questions about his brothers and some of his earlier roles.
he also asked him about holby- the most recent episode, even- which i was not expecting lol. he asked paul if gaskell was really dead, and paul was just like “lol it’s a soap, who knows what could happen” and joked about another soap character whose death had turned out to be a dream.
also of note is that paul never called gaskell by name once and exclusively referred to him as “doctor death” lmaooo. i actually know why this is- he mentioned on a radio show a week or so ago that a holby city fan yelled “doctor death!” at him in the street once- but he didn’t....explain this background to the panel audience, so i’m sure many were baffled by it :”D the interviewer was like “so your most recent role, professor john gaskell-” and paul was literally like “ah, yes. doctor death!” asoifjsaij what a dork
^ this pic is actually from the sunday panel but god, actual dork with a heart of gold paul mcgann being juxtaposed next to menacing shots of “doctor death” was never not hilarious
speaking of holby, I GOT TO ASK HIM A QUESTION DURING THE Q & A, and i asked him what it was like working with guy henry! he said working with old friends is tough bc they know all your acting tricks lol. he went on gently roast guy and say he’s looked like he was 40 since they were at rada and that one of their professors told guy that he was the kind of person who wouldn’t find real success until he WAS like 40 bc he just had one of those faces, and lo and behold, that was case. notably, paul said all of this while holding eye contact with me since it was my question, and i was literally trembling by the end of his response bc i can barely hold eye contact with my family members let along PAUL JOHN MCGANN
he also said “fuck” at one point. at another he pulled the cap off his water bottle with his teeth and maggie and i were both like...*sweating*
after that we got our photo ops! then managed to get some food in us, and then i went to get paul’s autograph and give him his bday gift, which i already detailed here [x] so i won’t get into that. notably he also called maggie photogenic and said their photo op looked like a housewarming photo of a couple just moving in. we were both dying afterwards.
theeeen that evening i attended a dinner party for fans with vip passes that the stars also attended! the food was v yummy. there was ice cream too.
unfortunately i didn’t end up at paul’s table, but i was at the table next to him so i may have eavesdropped. my table had jon davey, who plays cybermen and daleks and ood etc, and who was very funny and decidedly attractive, and who at one point pulled out his phone and showed me this video while nearly dying of laughter over it
paul was actually late to the dinner because he crashed a painting panel!!
^ here’s him painting his tardis picture with his dorky ass reading glasses on. what an old man. i love him
he did show up eventually, and ended up drinking a decent amount of red wine and i’m pretty sure got tipsy and at one point misheard the person next to him as saying “penis hands” and was like “penis hands???? PENIS HANDS???”
all my table ended up leaving early but paul’s all stayed hanging on his every word bc that’s the effect he has on people :’)) so i ended up scooting over there just to listen. at one point his assistant came over and whispered to me that paul HAD gotten the letter i gave him with his gift and he WOULD read it tonight and i was like “omg no it’s ok, i didn’t need him to reply asap or anything, i just wanted him to have it!!”
i left the dinner when paul left- his table were the last ones out- and maggie was outside the dinner waiting for me and may have collapsed into a fit of giggles when she saw paul. then we went to our airbnb and fuckin CRASHED because we were so damn exhausted
on to SUNDAY
i started placing bets on what paul would be wearing that day on sunday morning, since i know he only has like three different con outfits that he wears. lo and behold we get to the con and he’s wearing THE EXACT SAME CLOTHES AS SATURDAY. like, down to the scarf and shoes. they were 100% the same.
idk why he was, but he must have washed them, or he must be an ethereal being incapable of sweating because he was just as nice and fresh as the previous day [shrug]
we wandered around the dealer’s room for a bit, maggie bought a vinyl from a charity sale booth and i bought a couple dwms with bb eight on them bc why not
my lovely internet friends and fellow paul superfans @savageinkspillage and @paulmcgannlesbian both paid me to buy them autographs, and i was happy to oblige because it meant i got to talk to paul again
i went up to his booth and he said “good to see you again!!” and told me he was so touched by the birthday card :”0 and thanked me again for the drawing!
i told him what names to sign to for the autographs and there was an incredible moment where i told him to address one to “brittany” and his brain like. short-circuited and he tried to spell it out to me except he spelled it some ridiculous white mom way like “B-R-I-T-N-I-Y” or something and i just stared at him for a moment not sure if he was fucking with me before being like “.....no?”
once i told him “two t’s” he got it and said “like the place!!” and asked me if i knew where brittany was in a stern teacher voice and i was p sure it was france but not 100% so i was just like “d-don’t quiz me”
he also let me take pictures of him holding the autographs that i could send to my friends, which was very sweet!! here’s him with @savageinkspillage‘s.
he was very determined that we let them dry before taking them because he didn’t want them to be smudged, and blew gently on them himself like a dork.
before we could go, he also fully just was like “give me a hug” and got up and hugged me AGAIN. THREE PAUL MCGANN HUGS IN ONE WEEKEND. T H R E E.
then after he hugged me he noticed the bowie vinyl that maggie had just bought in the dealer’s room and was like “!!!!!! is that a vinyl!!!! can i see!!!”
maggie was like “of course” and handed it over and he was FAWNING over the thing and promptly informed us that it was definitely an original print bc it was made of a special sort of material only used to make records in the 70s, and that it had never been played. maggie said she got it for $10 and he was like “TEN BUCKS??”
he also sniffed it because apparently “that’s what you did with vinyls” and took it out of its sleeve (with maggie’s permission) and freakin’ messed with it to show us how bendy the materal was before giving it back to maggie and emphatically telling her to “treasure that”.
he asked us where we got it and i said it was at a table in the dealer’s room, next to where they were keeping his painting from the night before. upon hearing about the painting he was immediately like “noooo don’t remind me of that!! i’m so ashamed!!” and i was like “WTH PAUL NO IT WAS SO GOOD”
here’s paul’s painting!! it’s lovely!!
also at one point maggie’s hoop earring fell out and full on, like, made a break for paul mcgann and rolled behind his chair. she was embarrassed but he just picked it up and messed with it, feigning putting it on his ear and saying he wished he was a girl so he could wear earrings like that and i was like “you should get your ears pierced!” because he SHOULD. he just laughed.
we literally had a whole, like, probably 10 minute conversation with him and he was just so lovely and funny and warm and thanked me one last time for the drawing before we walked away soasifjsaoifj
THEN it was time for his sunday panel!! it was a great change of pace from usual panels, it was called “doctor’s orders” and run by a podcaster who’d based it on advice columns- basically, he asks paul a bunch of questions looking for advice that he’d gathered from fans and paul had to impart his wisdom.
here are just a few choice tidbits from the panel:
q: what do i do if my boyfriend never puts the toilet seat down? paul: get rid of him
q: there are beehives in my house, what do i do?? paul: don’t kill them!! bees are our friends. move out. let the bees have the house instead
q: boxers or briefs? paul: briefs. *pointed look at audience* some of us need the support.
he was asked the trolley problem and said without hesitation that he would move the trolley to kill the one instead of the five. he also endorsed stealing from businesses to feed the hungry (unsurprising because *cough* he’s a socialist). he revealed that he shoplifted all the time as a kid as a right of passage in working class liverpool and asked the audience to raise their hands if they’d ever shoplifted. when a decent amount did, he called it a sign of a healthy society. he doted on his sons quite a bit which was adorable, and said he was the “soft touch” when they were growing up while mum was bad cop.
at one point he said if liverpool won the premiere league he’d “sit naked here in front of you” and then immediately was like “...i don’t know why i said that.” the audience was roaring with laughter the entire time. it was legitimately the funnest panel i’ve ever been too :’0 and we had front row seats!!
at the end, the host opened the panel up to the audience to ask their advice questions, and maggie asked one about how to survive while studying abroad in london next year. paul gently ribbed her at first being like “well, remember to sleep and eat” but then reassured her “you’ll be fine” and i could physically feel her melting beside me.
after the panel he chatted a bit with the women next to us, who i know to be old guards of paul mcgann fandom. i didn’t hear much but i did hear paul refer to “that brexit shit” lol.
the last time maggie and i saw paul, he seemed to be leaving the con and nearly tripped over a remote control cybermat on the way out, which was cute.
all in all...i really don’t have words for how amazing this was. i couldn’t have asked for a better environment to meet my favorite actor in, and i have gained so many wonderful memories that i can’t even keep track of them all, and i can’t wait to do it again.
#personal#li geek#paul mcgann#i am sorry about the obscene length of this lmao#but did you guys really expect anything less from me#also sorry the font on my blog is so small#ctrl + might help you read
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