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#i’m not doing bad necessarily but i’m not that good either and i know if i’m on here i’ll like actively seek out things that make it worse
whomturgled · 7 months ago
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i feel like since i read it, and a lot of people haven’t/don’t want to (and that’s so valid and sexy of them) i should round up some highlights (subjectively) from the mdzs novel (missing from/in comparison to the untamed show or just in general) so u can all experience it without actually having to read some of the nonsense if ur really curious
#there’d have to be different categories I think. i could do things that are bad and things that r good too but#my intent would be to focus on the good/funny/interesting in a meaningful way#could also do a ‘should I read this extra?’ and warn u guys of which ones have freak shit in them#this would all be subjective tho so.#I have nothing the fuck better to do rn other than uhhhh make memes using the art applications I should be practicing art with#ok some category ideas include: ‘i’m baby 🥺’ ‘tender.......’ ‘absolute dumbassery on main’ ‘gay panic’ ‘gay feelings but no homo’#‘the juniors’ by which I mean things that expand on their chars#also anything that would significantly expand on chars/plot points/events#things that are either very different or slightly but it makes something nuanced in a significant/interesting way#I could just do a whole list of what I could jokingly call a cringe comp aka freak/unnecessary shit#which could also be ‘reasons not to read/parts to maybe skip if u do want to’ or ‘mxtx critical’ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#‘genuinely funny’ ‘things that made me want to pull my fucking hair out but not in a bad way necessarily’#‘wei wuxian is bisexual’ ‘wei wuxian is so oblivious and/or full of internalized homophobia/heteronormativity it hurts’#i was abt to say I’m willing to offer this as a public service but then I thought abt it and what if ppl paid me to#like not just for mdzs fuck dude I’ll become the new . what’s it called. the website that summarizes books for u.#but like upon request and it could both be an academic summary and some fun lists of things.#unrealistic actually huh. i suppose I could always try and set up one of thos lil donate/pledge things and pretend my Brain and ability to#organize ideas and lists and pick out details#i Forget where i was going with that. I think I was trying to say it is one of few skills I have but. that’s also subjective#anyway lmk if anyone would be interested in knowing what ur missing in mdzs and/or other novels or shows or whatever i can make it funny#it’s not actually much unless u wanna go deep on the analysis and think way too hard abt it#some parts of mdzs rotted my brain ngl#watch me end up deleting and redoing half these tags later bc I got on that adhd just typing what I’m thinking shit
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sukumen · 12 months ago
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reverence / sukuna x reader.
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word count: 2.9k.
notes: i’m pretty sure a few people have written for this concept already, but i’m hoping my take isn’t too duplicative! it’s a follow-up to this drabble i wrote for my 100 followers event because i haven’t stopped thinking about this scenario since…. really hope you all enjoy! especially you, anon, who put in the initial request :)
also! if this manga edit belongs to you, let me know so i can credit you! 
warnings: nsfw/18+, historical au, dubcon/noncon, breeding, exhibitionism / voyeurism, ritual descriptions, crying during sex, cult / harem vibes, exophilia (this is set in sukuna’s original era, so he’s got all his arms), the standard darkness that comes with sukuna - reader’s manhandled a little bit.
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It hasn’t been long since the ceremony. Two weeks total, sun up to sun down. In that time, a few women have shown signs of Sukuna’s seed taking root - an uptick in their hunger, belly markings that mirror his - and were taken to live in the main altar. You, on the other hand, see no fruit for your sacrifice, save for nerves that’re always buzzing beneath the surface.
Being chosen to bear his heir is meant to be a blessing. A duty to your village, a merit to your family. But, no one talks about the loneliness that follows. The paranoia of living under his roof, hoping to prove your worth. Or even the worry you have to bear with the likelihood of death long before any child that is conceived comes to term.
No one cares about the women lost to the King of Curses.
He’s never been disparaged out loud, but the fear is no secret, palpable in every story you’d heard as a child. To be handed to him by the very people who taught you that fear is confusing at best, devastating at worst. 
Some of the girls struggle to reconcile it, withering from their disappointment. Others turn their despair into hubris —- get drunk on their offerings and talk about Sukuna like a lover to stay sane.
You do a good job of avoiding either extreme. There’s no point in agonizing over a situation you can’t control, but you won’t absolve the ones that could either. You deserved more —- deserve more. But, until more comes, you’ll keep your head down; keep quiet and do your duty. 
Though it’s hard to do when you can’t shake the feeling you’re being watched.
////
He comes for the first time while everyone’s asleep.
The moon is high despite the short time to sunrise, and you don’t notice him past the initial glare. But, when your tired vision clears, he’s impossible to miss; glowing in a stark white kimono with pillows for a throne. 
He’s never visited the boarding house before and you can’t help but think the worst. Had someone displeased him? Had they said something foolish and brought hell on all your heads? There are countless possibilities, each one more terrifying than the last; so when he’s still, even with your eyes on him, you assume he hasn’t seen you and squeeze them shut to avoid being noticed. 
The silence that follows is unbearable; heady while you wait for something, anything to happen. You will your body calm the best you can, forcing steady breaths to feign sleep even as sweat pools at your nape. What’s feels like hours pass like that and you’re about to crack an eye open to peek when —-
“How long do you think that’s going to work, brat?” Your breath stutters; a wordless prayer that he isn’t talking to you. “Don’t waste my time; I already saw you looking.” You feel the weight of his eyes branding guilt all over you and open yours begrudgingly, swallowing as he comes back into view. He’s staring right at you, confirming the worst, and you feel your heart stop in your chest. “There we are —- much better.” 
In the time you’ve had your eyes closed, cloud cover’s hidden most of the moon, shrouding him, and the room, in shadow. The sight is almost comforting —- making him seem more like a nightmare you haven’t woken up from than a real person in front of you. But, that comfort doesn’t last long —- he speaks again, this time a command that dumps sinister intent over you like ice water.
“Undress.”
You’ve done that for him before, but you feel more nervous this time —- perhaps because you have no idea what to expect. You’ve never heard of Sukuna coming back after the ritual, and while you know you should obey, your body won’t move, fingers anchored in your futon. 
Sukuna doesn’t appreciate the hesitation and is on you in seconds, gripping your cheeks with one hand while the other 3 cage you in. “You don’t seem to know how to listen and I don’t particularly like repeating myself, so this will be the last time. Undress.” His fingers squeeze a smidgen too tight, bones creaking in your face under the hold. 
A warning, if you’ve ever seen one.
He’s just barely let go before you’re flying out of your robes, unwinding the fabric clumsily until you’re naked. Instinct guides your arms up to hide your breasts, but Sukuna’s fast, smacking them away with enough force to make them throb.
“I didn’t ask you to undress so you could hide. Present yourself to me.”
Reluctantly, you do as he asks: drop your hands to either side of you so your body’s on full display. His inspection starts at your mouth, trailing down over your breasts and the unswollen curve of your stomach with methodical focus.
He’s had many girls over the years as part of these offerings, but you’re the only one he’s thought of in the aftermath. He’d devastated cities with your cunt in mind; stolen life with his thoughts on your womb, wondering if you’d taken him well, if you were growing with his child. 
Coming back to your empty tummy, naturally, is a disappointment. Something he aims to fix, though in due time. Tonight, he’s only come to look you over; to recommit your body to memory with four ravenous eyes. 
Their gaze has landed now in the apex of your thighs. The hair there is thick - he remembers vividly how it felt against him - and he licks his lips at the sight. “Spread your legs — hold them.” This time, you obey instantly, body moving like clockwork, and Sukuna gives a dark grin. You’re learning.
And not just how to listen. For all your protest, you’re slick for him, pussy glistening like an oasis when your legs part. Your body knows him already and he takes pride in that — wants to train it more if he’s honest, to the point that the thought of him alone will make you gush. 
Again, he must wait. If he wants any guarantee that it will take, patience will have to become a virtue. His fingers ache for more, but the only touch he awards himself is a hand at the base of your throat, pushing you back with your legs still spread. He can see you shudder beneath his palm, clenching instinctively around nothing, and nearly gives in right then. But, Sukuna is determined when he needs to be —- he won’t waste this on impulse.  
“Sleep,” he orders, shocking you with the sudden turn. You’d braced yourself for more after he had you so bare, but aren’t hard-pressed to question it. Especially when the hand on your neck tenses without squeezing - a gentle reminder of his authority. 
You feel that hand long into the next morning.
////
The next time he comes, the other girls are awake.
You’re keeping to yourself as always, busying your hand with some embroidery before bed. A full moon shines enough light into the room that some have gone without candles, but you’re not nearly skilled enough for that. A lamp beside you lights your way while a few more around the room offer the same luxury for the remaining girls. 
Yours is the first one to flicker, though you don’t notice it until the rest join. Each flame goes in and out at the same time, following a rhythm that’s too unnatural to be coincidence. And you’re all so transfixed that you don’t notice the sorcerer until he stands over you, arms crossed inside his sleeves. 
Immediately, the room shifts, all ten of you moving into a supplicant bow at Sukuna’s feet. He basks in the obedience but only for a moment; he’s come here for a reason.
“You,” he growls, staring right at you, “here.” 
You learned your lesson the last time (your face and arms ached for days after his last visit) so though your knees knock, you listen well, moving to settle beside him. You maintain your submissive position, hands and knees folded as your forehead meets the ground between them. From the corner of your eye, you can see some girls trembling, trying to make sense of the visit. They, like you, don’t know of stories that tell of this and they show the same fear you had on the first night. 
Not that your fear has necessarily gone away -- it’ll alway be unsettling for a man like him to do so much out of the ordinary. But, you’re hopeful that maybe, just maybe, he’ll surprise you again, like he had when he sent you to bed without incident. 
That is, until he gives you a familiar command.
“Undress - quickly.”
You take a breath, the inhale shaky as heat builds behind your eyes. Being scrutinized by him had been bad enough -- being exposed to the others is humiliating, especially like this. Your face burns from the embarrassment, but it doesn’t stop you from listening.
You let your robe fall open around you, shivering from a wash of cool air and the unmistakable hunger in his eyes. You hear a pleased rumble from him, a sound that sends dread down your spine, and are about to fold into another bow  when he clicks his tongue. 
“Hands and knees, pet.” 
Despite your better judgment, you look up at him, shocked and confused. That position can only mean one thing -- he’s come to claim you for the ritual. But, it’s all wrong. You haven’t soaked in the ceremonial bath, or covered yourself in his markings —- and you certainly haven’t heard of it happening in front of the other women. 
But, the way he watches you confirms that it’s no misstep. Your cursed energy is faint compared to the others, but even you can feel the way his spikes; a threat as he waits with an eyebrow arched expectantly.
He doesn’t like repeating himself.
A feeling of resignation soaks you, slumps your shoulders in defeat as you shift to hand and knee. The angle bares your cunt to him in a way that somehow feels more exposed than holding yourself open had, and you dip your head to hide your growing shame. 
Sukuna, on the other hand, is delighted. He’s waited for too long, biding his time until the full moon to return to you, and now, nothing will slow him. Not even the boring brats stinking the room with their arousal.
( He’ll deal with them later. )
You hear fabric rustling behind you as he sinks at your heels and brace yourself for the same roughness as the first time. He hadn’t given you much time to adjust then —- drilling you into the floor about as soon as he entered you. But, to your surprise, it isn’t his cock that breaches you first, but the sharp point of one finger. You clench up, fear spreading at that nail scraping your walls, but that only riles him. The smell of you is intoxicating - terror and latent lust all rising to the surface. It makes him spread you open with a second finger soon after the first, smirking as your hips turn away from it. 
“Oi, oi,” he snarls, a free hand coming down on the curve of your ass. The strike hurts, impact resonating to the bone, and you cry out with tears already springing up. “If you’re not careful, I’ll end up really hurting you, you know—- it’s better to stay still.” 
You bite down on your lip, cutting a whimper short before hiding your face in the tatami. The shift angles your hips higher, exposing you more, and suddenly, Sukuna’s forgotten all about toying with you. You’re slick already, gushing and clenching around his fingers, and he decides he’s had enough waiting to last a lifetime.
His fingers slip out to your relief only to settle at your hips. A third hand lands on the middle of your back to keep you pressed into the floor while the last steadies his cock, tip red and leaking, against your hole. 
He awards you that brief touch to ready yourself, then sinks inside in one go. The stretch is immediate, punching the air out of your lungs in a strangled sound that Sukuna savors. He’d wondered if he was giving you more credit than you were due with this obsession. But, that thrust alone tells him he’d been right to fixate on you. 
You fit him like a glove, hot, wet, and tight, and he’s certain he could stay inside like this forever. He has the time to enjoy it now that there’s no one else to fuck, but he’s lost his head, control right out the window when you’re twitching around him like that. 
He sets an urgent pace, hand moving from the small of your back to pin you with his weight instead. The sounds your cunt makes around him are obscene; squelching, sloppy, enticing. The only thing he’s enjoying more is the way you cry out with each thrust, tears leaking from the intensity.
“What backwards men you have in your village — giving away a cunt like this instead of keeping you for themselves.” He’s speaking against your ear, the closeness overwhelming when he’s filling you so deeply. “It’s hard to believe I have to trust such idiots with my ceremonies, but I suppose I have that stupidity to thank for you, hm?” He doesn’t want an answer, but punctuates the question all the same, a sharp thrust angled up that makes you scream.
You’re sensitive all over, responding more to him than any sacrifice has before. Between you and the audience watching with eyes like saucers, Sukuna’s lust drunk, grunting as he sits up just enough to gather your arms and tug them behind you.
“Watch her,” he growls to the rest, grip tight where he has you by the wrists. The pull makes you sit up some too and you feel heat spread down your front. Your breasts are on full display for the other women, bouncing every time his hips meet yours. Some of them are mortified, looking away to preserve your dignity. But there are others whose eyes light up with a hunger they don’t even realize they have - they’re enjoying this, watching him fuck you, and you can’t tell which reaction you despise more. 
Sukuna doesn’t let you dwell on it too long, anyway - his cock keeps you full, every sense working overtime to process how he’s fucking you, and it’s not long before everyone who isn’t him melts out of your purview. He can see the daze just in the way your body moves, hips less tense, head tipping back more. If he cared enough, he might consider that surrender to him beautiful. 
Right now, he’s more focused on giving you much better praise.
“Look how well she takes me… you should all aspire to please me like this. Your people will thank you for it.” He reaches around to find your clit, pinching it between his fingers to drive the point home. He’s already close, days of fantasizing about this tipping him to the edge faster than usual. And while he doesn’t particularly care about you finishing too, he knows better than most how good it feels to breed a satisfied cunt. 
He rolls the ball of nerves with purpose, matching the rhythm of his fingers to the drive of his hips, and you’re unravelling at breakneck speed. When your orgasm does hit, you’re too delirious to even enjoy it, babbling as you tense and squirm on his cock.
Sukuna follows not long after, filling you with a roar that makes all the other women flinch away. He stays inside you for some time, thrusting lazily to spread his cum.
When he finally pulls out, you shudder, a spent, sweaty mess beneath him. You can feel his spend oozing out of you, no doubt staining the flooring, and you whimper when you notice other eyes on the languid spill. Even Sukuna joins in, humming contently as he holds you open with a thumb. 
Beautiful, he finally relents.
By now, unconsciousness sings a tempting tune. You have no energy for much else, and the thought of sleeping until you forget this is a welcome relief. But, Sukuna has other plans for you, gathering you in his arms with little regard for how limp you’ve gone. At first, you think he’s going to take you away, perhaps to the main altar to guarantee his heir. But then, he holds you open towards the others, lowering you in his lap, and you realize as his cock head nudges you that you’re far from free.
“Now then — on to the next lesson.”
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ohajime · 8 months ago
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Haikyu Boys when they make you insecure PT 2(Atsumu,Suna)
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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3  Part 4  Part 5 Part 6
word count: 1.6K
Genre: angst,fluff
Masterlist
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Atsumu:
You have been dating the great setter of the MSBY Jackals since your third year in highschool 
You’ve always been okay with his profession 
Even when it comes with the adoring fans he has (the ones that don’t necessarily like you..)
And the away games he goes to, that you can’t always go to because of your job.
You and Atsumu got to spend all of quarantine together, which was challenging at times. As you and Atsumu sometimes did have conflicting personalities but you loved being together for 8months + altogether. 
But now with the restrictions being lifted, Atsumu got to go back to practice and playing some games although you still got to work from home. Over lockdown, you do feel like you gained a bit of weight (which you didn’t pay much attention to since didn’t everyone gain some weight?) 
However, today you were scrolling through twitter, smiling fondly at the recent tweet ‘tsumu made about you;
@ ThebetterMiya: ‘Remember this @ *Insert your twitter handle here* ‘ 
It was a picture of the two of you in high school in your second year, with you giving Atsumu a hug just after his game against Karasuno. The memory made you smile, but your positive thoughts stopped after seeing a particular comment... “Y/N has definitely let herself go” it read.
 To your surprise Atsumu even liked the comment, you didn’t want to overthink things as you know that Atsumu just unconsciously likes comments and tweets without thinking all the time. But you can’t lie and say you didn’t agree with the comment. 
For the rest of the day, you spent your time googling and searching personal trainers and gyms that were open for you to go to and new healthy diet plans to try
.Atsumu came home a while later, tired and grumpy claiming that coach worked him extra hard in practice. Because of your newfound idea to start eating and being more healthy, you decided to have one last day of ‘letting go’ so your ordered yours and ‘tsumu’s favourite take out.
Whilst eating dinner, you were going INNN as you should  because this is basically your ‘last meal’ you were going to have. ‘tsumu caught onto your cavemen-like way of eating which made him chuckle a bit. “Hey babe, woahh you’re really hungry aren’t ya?” 
His comment threw you off, even though you know that he probably didn’t mean anything by it but from the comment on his twitter earlier and how you already feel about yourself it just didn’t help.
“Well what do you mean about that?” you say a little agressively “you think i’m getting bigger right?”
Your question threw him off guard since he didn’t mean that “well Y/N I know you’ve kinda let youself go a bit and you’re obviously not the weight you were when we 16 but-” before he could finish you get up out of your seat and rushed to your room with tears in your eyes, missing the end of his sentence which was “but I still think you’re beautiful” he murmurs.
He decided to give you some space for a bit, and before approaching he see’s your phone ringing (lets just say you and Atsumu have ultimate trust so you can answer eachothers phones :3) “Hello is this Y/N L/N” the person on the otherside of the phone asked 
“No, this is Miya Atsumu” your boyfriend replied 
“Oh! Miya-san i’m a big fan of you!” he started making Atsumu chuckle “I was just calling Y/N to say i’m available next week saturday to start training”
‘Training?’ Atsumu thought “Can I ask what training you’re preparing for with Y/N” he asks
“Oh I am a personal trainer.” he replied “ Well that’s all I can say, can you please tell Y/N-san to call me again so we can work out times.” he ended the call.
Atsumu goes into your shared-bedroom where he finds you on your laptop looking at ‘weight loss’ tips. He goes over to you and closes your laptop lid and pulls your hand to lead you to the mirror in the room. He stands you in front of it and puts his arms around your waist and his head on your shoulder.
“You’re beautiful Y/N” he says, sparking more tears in your eyes “I think you misunderstood what I said earlier, you. are. goregous. babe” he says punctuating every single word. “Even, if you feel like you gained weight, or lost weight or whatever I will always think your beautiful. If you feel like you want or need to change I will definitely support you along the way, but I think you’re amazing Y/N.”
“Thank you ‘tsumu” you start “ I do feel a bit insecure about the way I look right now, and I’m sorry for my abrupt leave at dinner but I do feel like my body is gross but I do want to try to see myself the way you see me.”
After many efforts from Atsumu, you definitely fell back in love with your body wether you were bigger or small you didn’t care cause you knew you were beautiful either way and so did Atsumu which he reminded you of that every single day.
AN: Can someone give me a synonym for beautfiul lmao cause that’s the only word I can think to use lol.
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Suna:
You and Suna have always surprised people when they find out that you’re together.
Since your loud and talkative personality mixed with his quiet and nonchalantness is that a word? seems to not work well for other people
But opposites attract right?
You just finished the last episode of Kakegurui and were excited for your boyfriend to come home so you can tell him about it. You and Suna have been dating for a few years, after you confessed to him in front of all the boys in the gym in your 3rd year.
Suna enters the house mumbling a soft “Hi Y/N” to which you responded back with “Hi suna” rushing towards your boyfriend with a big hug. 
He slightly recoiled back out of your hug making you frown, to which he used the excuse of ‘I smell bad from practice let me take a shower.’ Whilst he was in the shower you decided to make some dinner for you both since it seems that Suna is a bit ‘grumpy’ today.
Once he exits the shower, and gets changed, he sees the table set out with the delicious food you made. You exit the bathroom to see him sat down already eating his plate. “How do you like it ?” you ask him wanting to know his opinion on your food.
“It’s good” he mumbles, continuing to shove food in his mouth. A bit bothered by the lack of response, you decide to talk about the newest episode in the hopes of lighting the mood. “Last episode of Kakegurui was great Rin, you should’ve seen it I really love mary. She’s great, I am a Mary Saotome simp through and through I still didn’t get the game they played but who cares? I can’t wait for season 3 to come out, I’ve already ordered the first 3 volumes of the Kakegurui twin manga, do you think it’s as good as the manga since I do think it’ll probably be better since it is Mary-centric and who hates mary since she-” You ramble on not taking notice of the bubbling annoyance that Suna seemed to have.
“Can you just shut up Y/N” he shouted making you flinch “ You’re so fucking talktative gosh” he got up and left the house slamming the door shut making you jump again. 
Instead of wallowing in your bed you decide on going out the library to go and read a good book (something that always makes you feel better) forgetting the harsh tone that Suna used with you. You were only trying to lighten the mood...
You got too engrossed with your books to notice how the sun is now gone and it was pitch black outside, the librarian notified you that it was time to go, you figure that if Suna was back at home he would’ve cooled down now so you can have a proper conversation which to be honest, you didn’t really want one.
Once you enter your house, Suna rushes towards you enveloping you in a big hug murmuring a “Oh thank god I was so worried” he tried to give you a kiss on the forehead but you recoil out of it, just as he did to you earlier. 
“I think i’m going to go to bed Rin” you say quietly trudging towards your bedroom and getting immediately in your bed. Suna stood there in the spot you left him in feeling bad for what he said to you at dinner. He goes into you bedroom and see you on your bed and silently gets into it next to you.
“Y/N I know you probably don’t want to hear me right now, but I am sorry” You don’t respond but slowly move closer to him letting him put his arm around you. Because of your silence Suna continues to speak “Umm...I watched the last episode earlier and you were right Mary Saotome is the goat but.... yumeko is better” he said teasingly 
This made you smile, as this is what you wanted a nice moment with your boyfriend talking about the last episode of your favourite show. You spend the rest of the night arguing over which character is better and decide to start Demon Slayer together, with Suna enjoying your after episode talks that you have.
AUTHOR NOTE: I was really excited to write for Suna and Atsumu but I have a fat migraine so i’m so sorry for it not being thattt gooood today :// but I hope you enjoy it regardless 
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stargazingfangirl18 · 10 months ago
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Necessary Arrangements: Part 2: Possessiveness w/Ari Levinson
Pairing: Ari Levinson x Female!Reader Word Count: 12,902 (I have forever lost my chill 🤷🏻‍♀️) Summary: You didn’t even want a new client, let alone this new client, but he wants you. He wants you bad. Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Explicit language. Escort!Reader. Slightly soft!dark Ari. Possessive behavior. Slight dub con. Unprotected sex. Oral sex (f receiving). Vaginal fingering. Cockwarming. AU. 18+ ONLY.
Necessary Arrangements Series Masterlist
A/N: Y’all, this fic was a fucking beast, but it’s finally done, and although it fought me the entire goddamn way, I hope you enjoy it. Shoutout to my shameless hoe soulmate @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ for holding my hand through this one, oh em gee I love you so much, thank you for all of your help and feedback!!! ❤️❤️❤️Also fair warning, I’m not now, nor have I ever been, an escort lol, so I just pulled those weak plot lines out of my butthole lolol. Also I may or may not have a lil surprise for you with this one - enjoy! 😘
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“Wait, what?” you stopped mid-pace, your gaze unseeing as you looked out of the floor to ceiling windows of your Manhattan penthouse. “I don’t take new clients, Maxine.”
Your manager’s sigh was so loud you pulled your phone away from your ear.
“Look, honey, I know you worked your way to the top of the ladder and you’re one of our exclusive girls who thinks the rules don’t apply to her--”
“That’s not what I think!” you sputtered.
Maxine continued as if you hadn’t spoken. “But they do, and you work for me, so if I say you’re gonna take a new client, you’re gonna take a new client.”
You glared even though she couldn’t see you. While you didn’t necessarily think the rules didn’t apply to you, it had been a long time since Maxine pulled rank and shook up your routine like this.
The routine and client list that had taken you years to perfect.
So you weren’t about to just roll over and die.
“I’m firm in my availability, and I have just enough hours to cover my current clients,” you said stubbornly.
“I’ve moved Richard Price to Natalie’s list.”
“Maxine! What the hell?! He was my top VIP--”
“You have a new top VIP now, and your first appointment with him is tomorrow--”
“You can’t just--”
“I did just,” Maxine snapped, her voice harsh in a way that hadn’t been directed at you in years.
Not since you were a shy, nervous baby escort who had been so out of your depth that Maxine almost fired you a number of times in the beginning…
But something about you drew in--and sustained--the higher clientele.
You liked to think it was your warm demeanor, intelligence, and general interest in others. Maxine insisted you “just had it,” along with a talent for making a man feel like he was the only person in existence.
Which men--especially rich men with big egos--reveled in.
And paid a lot of money for.
Regardless of how you started, and how you were kicking up now, Maxine was a damn fine businesswoman and she knew that you were good for business.
Just like you knew, that in a way, you owed her for your comfortable lifestyle and the success you had in this industry.
There was a long stretch of silence as you tried to gather yourself, overwhelmed by anger, hurt, and betrayal as your eyes burned and you stubbornly blinked back the tears.
“Look,” Maxine’s voice was softer--tired--as she murmured your name. “You’re one of my best girls, we’ve been in this together for a while now. I’ve been good to you, haven’t I?”
You sighed, deflating a little. “Yes, and you know I’m grateful.”
“I know, just...trust me,” Maxine implored you. “Your new VIP...he’s a powerful man, not the type you say no to, but I know he’ll be worth it, and he’s very interested in meeting you. I’ll email you all the details for tomorrow night, okay?”
“Okay.”
You said your goodbyes and hung up, your phone immediately pinging with the email from Maxine.
Wandering over to your sofa, you curled up on one end as you opened the email and read through the details. You got as far as the first two lines before your eyes bugged.
Ari Levinson Platinum VIP
You’d been an escort for six years now, and one of Maxine’s high end girls for the past three, and you still had only gotten as high as a Gold VIP.
In fact, you only knew of one other girl who had a Platinum VIP.
And there was a reason for that - Platinums had unlimited access to their girl and said girl wasn’t allowed to blacklist anything from the service menu.
But you blacklisted unwanted sexual acts.
It had been hard in the beginning, the sexual expectations, especially from strangers.
Especially for your job.
But once you’d found your footing, once you realized your value--and Maxine did too--you learned about blacklisting and were quick to use it to your advantage.
You had a way of drawing in and keeping the type of client who were older and looking for companionship more than sex.
They wanted a pretty face on their arm at events that they could show off, and someone to spend time with weekly to fill the empty void in their life without the expectation and commitment. They wanted someone loyal and doting and sweet. Someone who took care of them and cared about them just enough that they could pretend they weren’t so lonely.
You’d spent years cultivating your client list for this exact type of client, so you didn’t need to sell your body and your soul to live the kind of life that made you happy. To have the type of control and sovereignty that you’d always wanted.
You worked hard to make sure your clients were head over heels for you and were basically putty in your hands. You showed them enough of a good time, made them feel special enough, showered them with just enough physical affection that you were able to blacklist.
And you had the type of clients that, once in a blue moon, if you were feeling lonely or riled up yourself, you felt safe enough with them to initiate sex, but only on your terms.
Because you didn’t want to get attached.
And you didn’t want your clients getting attached either.
It was easier to accept your profession if you could compartmentalize and keep feelings and emotions out of it.
And that you were good at.
What you weren’t good at was having the experience, control, and lifestyle you worked so tirelessly to create over the last six years suddenly ripped from you without warning.
Maxine knew your unwanted sexual acts blacklist was active.
“What the fuck?” you huffed, shooting off a text to her.
How can I host a Platinum with my current blacklist exclusion?
You didn’t need to wait long for Maxine’s response.
Your exclusion has been lifted for this client.
Your mouth fell open, thumbs hovering over your phone screen to reply, but you didn’t even know what to say as another wave of betrayal--much stronger than before--swept over you.
Maxine was quick to send a follow up:
As per your contract, blacklist exclusions are a courtesy and may be nullified by the agency at any time. Just meet the guy, it’s one night, if it’s awful, I’ll sweet talk him onto Cece’s client list. But he was very interested in you and your background. He even insisted on a pre-date bonus to treat you to a new outfit and a spa day for some pampering.
You perked up at that, gnawing on your bottom lip.
You’d never had any clients who paid beyond the normal VIP rate or did anything more significant than give you a few gifts here and there.
That was the only pitfall of keeping your clients at a distance. They were just as unattached as you were, which meant few bonuses or thinking about you beyond your dates and what you were offering in the moment.
Tapping back to Maxine’s email, you read over the date details again.
He wanted to take you to the new show by the New York City Ballet Company and then to dinner at some fancy Italian restaurant that you knew was not only ridiculously expensive but super exclusive. It was nearly impossible to get into if you didn’t know someone, and you knew a few someones who knew someone and had still never gotten in the door.
“Who are you, Ari Levinson?” you muttered, heaving another sigh before replying to Maxine’s last text.
Fine, I’ll give him a chance, but if he’s awful and skeevy, you owe me, and it’s gonna be such a big favor that I don’t even know what it is yet.
Maxine replied with the thumb’s up emoji, and you rolled your eyes, flopping down onto the sofa as you clicked back into the email to read more about the spa you’d be visiting tomorrow.
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You were doing the final touches on your makeup when there was a knock at your front door.
You froze, eyes wide and staring at yourself in your bathroom mirror.
Poking your head into your bedroom, you spied the clock on your bedside table, and--just as you thought--you still had another 15 minutes until your date was supposed to pick you up.
Downstairs, outside of your building, as was protocol.
Clients--especially new clients--were never supposed to just show up at your home without explicit invitation.
“What the hell,” you muttered.
You sighed as you glanced down at yourself - you still hadn’t put on your dress or heels yet, but you didn’t have time to as another knock sounded.
Sighing, you grabbed your short silk robe from the back of the bathroom door and shrugged it on, tying it closed as you hurried to the front door.
You didn’t even check the peephole before flipping the lock and pulling the door open.
Your irritation nearly evaporated as your lips parted in a surprise at the figure standing before you.
And not just standing, but towering.
Because this man was huge.
Tall and broad beneath his expensive navy suit. It was perfectly tailored to the impressive expanse of his shoulders, and the crisp, white button up beneath was undone at the top, giving you a peek of tan skin and dark chest hair.
His dark brown hair hung much longer than most men wore it, but looked soft and matched well with his neatly trimmed beard. His face was a beautiful array of smooth skin and sharp angles, his eyes a pop of dark blue that was firmly fixed on your face and sparkling with amusement as you just stood there, gaping at him.
Because you’d never had a client this young and good looking before.
He couldn’t have been older than late thirties, and he was so attractive that you instantly felt flustered, despite your experience.
He said your name with a questioning lilt, his voice a deep, smooth rumble that had goosebumps rising along your arms.
“Yes, that’s me,” you managed, still thrown by this man and the way he had unceremoniously shown up on your doorstep.
“I’m Ari, it’s nice to finally meet you, sweetheart.”
Your belly unexpectedly fluttered at the pet name falling from his full lips, but it still didn’t completely squash your surprise and annoyance that he was so boldly at your door on the very first date.
A date you didn’t even want to go on in the first place.
So you leaned against the doorframe, tugging the door closed around you as Ari tried to gaze past you and into your home with curiosity. “We’re supposed to meet downstairs in the lobby. In 15 minutes,” you emphasized.
Ari smirked, his eyes sparkling. “I know I’m a little early, traffic wasn’t nearly as bad as I was expecting.”
“How lucky for you,” you forced a smile, vaguely wondering if it looked as fake as it felt but not really giving a damn at the moment. “I’m not quite finished yet. I need a few more minutes.”
Tucking his hands into the pockets of his slacks, Ari stepped closer, leaning his shoulder on the doorframe as he stood over you. His eyes dipped to your robe momentarily, but jumped back up just as quick. “I don’t mind waiting. You gonna invite me in?”
“No, I’m not,” your chin lifted in defiance as Ari straightened, his eyes narrowing, then not, so quickly you wondered if you imagined it. “You can wait downstairs, as is protocol, and I’ll meet you down there when I’m ready.”
“I’m not much for protocol or rules, sweetheart.”
“That’s not really my problem, Mr. Levinson.”
“Ari,” he corrected, the sparkle renewing in his eyes as you began to close the door in his face. His palm slid against it, pushing back just a little. “You sure you wanna start our evening like this?”
“Better than starting my evening with an uninvited stranger in my home,” you smiled sweetly.
Ari laughed. “Oh trust me, honey, you’ll know me so well by the end of the night, it’ll be the last time you ever do something like this.” He rapped his knuckles against the door, but stepped back as you pushed it closed.
“We’ll see,” you sang, and you couldn’t help but grin at the glimpse of Ari’s glower you got just before the door closed, and you flipped the lock for good measure.
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By the time you arrived downstairs in the lobby, dressed to the nines--and ten minutes late on purpose--you were feeling like you had a bit of the upper hand back, despite this unwanted date, this unwanted client.
Ari didn’t say anything about your lack of punctuality, he just rose from the chair he’d been lounging in, slow to drink in the sight of your off the shoulder evening gown as he licked his lips.
“You look stunning,” he hummed, eyes lingering on your chest before dipping lower and appreciating the high split on your left thigh that flashed a bit of skin and your pretty, gold stilettos.
“Thank you.”
“Now if you’re done teaching me a lesson,” he drawled, glancing at the expensive looking watch on his wrist as he stepped close and held out his arm for you. “Let’s get our night together started.”
You stared at him for a beat, your brain trying to process the hint of command in his voice, because that wasn’t something you were used to.
Usually you were the one leading the interactions with your clients, and you liked it that way. It allowed you to set expectations and control the dynamic.
You swallowed, that unfamiliar flustered feeling rising up in you once again, more than aware of the way Ari gave you another leisurely onceover.
And that was something you were used to, admiration. But not quite the kind Ari was directing at you.
There was something dark in his eyes as he watched you, and it wasn’t just the shadow of appreciation or want--both of which made your traitorous body perk up in awareness--it was something else, something you couldn’t place.
Whatever it was made you shiver, and Ari grinned at your reaction. He moved closer--then too close--and you instinctively took a step away from him. Ari’s thick arm wrapped around your waist and swept you up against him.
You gasped at the impact, the way your soft body collided with his and molded to the firmness beneath his suit. Ari’s warmth seeped into you as you felt your nipples pebble at his proximity.
Your body rippled with awareness, hair standing on end as Ari’s big hand slid against the dip of your lower back, burning your skin even through your dress. Suddenly his thigh was pressing between yours, hiking your dress up indecently high as another quiet, startled noise got caught in your throat.
Ari’s gaze on you was intent--darker than before--as his finger curled beneath your chin and tilted your face up so your eyes couldn’t escape his.
“I have a nice night out on the town planned for us, but if you want to stay in, stay here and get cozy as we get to know each other, I’m fine with that too,” he hummed.
You planted your hands on his chest, noting the firmness there--the hint of the power contained in that big body--and all that hidden strength had you shuddering in his hold, your body positively lit up at his words and the quiet purr that delivered them.
You hated that you were so affected by this beautiful, arrogant stranger. That every inch of your body that pressed against his was singing at the contact as a stir that you hadn’t felt in a long, long time started blooming to life deep in your core.
Shaking yourself, you cleared your throat, pressing more firmly against Ari’s chest as you tried to step away.
He let you, that amused twinkle back in his eyes as you looked away, unable to hold his gaze.
“Let’s get our evening started then,” you said.
“Good girl,” Ari murmured with a pleased smile. He stepped away, turning around to nod at someone.
You glanced across the lobby to see a large man--even bigger than Ari--dressed in all black and standing beside the door. His figure was nothing short of intimidating, and you could understand why your sweet building doorman was standing a few feet away, shifting uncomfortably.
You didn’t have any more time to dwell on it as Ari corralled you against his side and led you toward the entrance, his hand on your back brazenly sliding lower, teasing the curve of your ass like he had every right to as you stepped outside.
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You were settling into the backseat of the fancy town car, gently rearranging the long, fluttering folds of your dress, when Ari slid in beside you.
He spared no space between you as he settled his arm across your shoulders and held you against him.
Ari’s lips twitched as you stiffened. “Do I make you uncomfortable, sweetheart?” he teased as his driver and the man from the lobby settled in up front.
The driver raised the tinted divider between the front and back seats to give you privacy, then began the drive to the ballet.
“Of course not.” You avoided Ari’s gaze as you busied yourself by smoothing your hands over your lap, the soft, shimmery material of your gown soothing you.
“I would think a woman of your...position,” he drawled the word, “Would be a little warmer than this, especially on the first date.”
Offense hit you hard as Ari’s fingers traced nonsensical shapes on the curve of your bare shoulder.
But you knew he wasn’t wrong.
You didn’t want to be here. You didn’t want a new client. You didn’t want your blacklist exclusion lifted. And you certainly didn’t want a stranger showing up on your doorstep without permission.
You didn’t want your comfy, cozy life disrupted.
And yet…
Ari wasn’t wrong.
You were a professional, and despite the unorthodox nature of your job, you always prided yourself on being good at it.
At being good at people.
You mulled all of this over quickly, your silent musings getting harder to focus on as Ari’s unrelenting touch distracted you. As his overwhelming warmth, and the soft, smoky scent of him had your body delighting in and craving more of his attention.
It figured you would be attracted to the client you didn’t even want.
And yet…
You sighed, allowing some of the tension to ease from your body as you softened into the curve of his arm.
“I’m sorry,” you said, glancing over at him. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a new client.”
He grinned. “Maxine said you might be a little rusty.”
“Rusty?” you scoffed. “Hardly. More like pissed.” You crossed your arms over your chest, glancing away. “I’m quite happy with my client list and schedule as is, Mr. Levinson. I’m not happy it’s been hijacked because you tossed around some money and Maxine couldn’t resist.”
“Jesus, the attitude on you,” Ari laughed. “I had a feeling you’d be fun.” His hand gripped your shoulder a little tighter as his head ducked close. His lips brushed your ear as he murmured, “I’m sorry for throwing a wrench in your routine, sweetheart. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“No, that’s not necessary,” you sniffed. “This is a one time thing, Mr. Levinson.”
He watched you for a moment before speaking, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Well I, for one, am looking forward to our time together. And since you seem so sure it’ll be fleeting, I’ll be sure to make the most of it.”
There was a long moment of awkward silence, and then Ari was dropping his hand to your thigh. His fingers teased the slit of your gown before pushing the material apart until your bare skin was revealed.
You shuddered as his fingers danced along your thigh, as you watched his shameless, wandering touch with a strange mixture of unease and anticipation.
When his fingers dipped between your thighs, inching toward your heat, you couldn’t stifle your gasp, your hand shooting out to grab his wrist and stop his exploration.
Ari’s gaze shot to you, the blue of his eyes overtaken by lust as his lips curled. “Aw, are you shy, honey?”
“More like uninterested.”
His laugh was breathless as he leaned close, his next words spoken against the warm apple of your cheek. “Mmm, I don’t think that’s true, sweetheart. If you think I haven’t noticed the way that sweet, tempting body’s been reacting to me, you’re wrong.”
You huffed wordlessly, turning to stare out your window to avoid Ari’s gaze, while being all too aware of it at the same time.
“I’m always up for a challenge,” he teased warmly as he settled back beside you.
You tried not to react as Ari’s hand slid down to a more respectable place on your bare thigh, settling warm and heavy--impossible to ignore--for the entire rest of the drive.
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You hated to admit it, but the ballet had been amazing.
It had been your first show, and Ari had gotten you incredible box seats with a view to die for.
There’d been another couple in the box with you, an older gentleman and his wife. The man seemed to be a work associate of Ari’s, as they had greeted each other jovially before settling into their seats. In between acts, they leaned in close, seeming to talk business, but their voices were low and you couldn’t hear anything they said.
Other than you, no one else in your group had seemed concerned--or even slightly interested--by the two silent guardians who took post behind you. In addition to Ari’s man, the couple brought their own hulking companion.
You could only assume they were some type of security as they settled behind you, one on each side of the red, velvet curtain that led into the box suite.
You’d tried your best to engage the other woman, smiling warmly at her a few seats away, but she seemed disinterested in you, and even more disinterested in the ballet, instead spending the entirety of the show playing on her phone.
Ari had caught you frowning your disapproval at her during intermission, and had leaned in close, slid a big hand against your cheek, and kissed you straight on the lips.
“You keep letting that sass show, sweetheart, and you’re never gonna get rid of me,” he had smirked.
And now, over an hour later, as Ari led you through the gorgeous Italian restaurant, his hand a possessive weight on the small of your back, your lips were still tingling from that brief, unexpected kiss.
“Ari!”
Ari paused, his arm curling around your waist as he turned toward a table filled with half a dozen men.
They ranged in age from thirties to late sixties, most of them openly checking you out as Ari reached out to shake a few hands.
“It’s been a long time since you’ve come around here,” the oldest man said gruffly. Beneath his dark gray suit, his black button up was undone, revealing silver chest hair and a few lavish, gold chains.
“I’ve been busy,” Ari shrugged easily. “No use wasting my time on something established when I can dig into something new, right?”
The older man grunted. “Heard you put feelers out…” he glanced at you, gaze distrusting. “Up north. Sure that’s smart? Sounds like things are unsettled up there.”
You felt Ari’s fingers tighten around your hip, but otherwise the smirk remained on his lips. “You checkin’ up on me, Antonio?”
“I check up on everyone, kid, you’re not special.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, the air crackling with tension, so much so that you fidgeted in discomfort, something you’d never done in all the years you’d been on the arm of rich, powerful men.
But something about this group--this conversation--had alarm bells going off in your head.
“Be careful who you shake hands with, Ari,” the old man said at last. “We have our ways, and we have them for a reason.”
“I’m not much for tradition,” Ari shot back. “It’s paid off well so far.” Wrapping his arm more tightly around you, Ari glanced around the table, tossing a nod at the other men before leading you away.
The host resumed the trek across the restaurant as if nothing had happened, showing you to a big, private booth, and you smiled gratefully at him before situating yourself.
Ari did the same across from you, murmuring a, “Thank you, Nicolai,” to him as he handed you both menus.
“Sir,” Nicolai nodded, pouring you each a glass of water before giving you a few minutes to decide on your meals.
The menu was the furthest thing from your mind as you eagerly glanced around the restaurant. Your excitement to be here quickly made you forget about the tension from a moment ago, and although you couldn’t see much from the privacy of your booth, what you could see was grand, well decorated, and smelled heavenly.
“You’ve never been here before,” Ari observed in amusement as he watched your big eyes drink in everything they could.
“No,” you shook your head, the first real smile of the night curling your lips as you gathered yourself and opened the menu. “I’ve always wanted to come here though, but it’s so difficult to get a reservation, unless you know someone.” You glanced at him, curious. “I’m assuming you do, especially after that little conversation back there?”
“You could say that,” he smirked.
You blinked at his mysterious answer, at that goddamn smirk, and sighed. “Well, thank you for bringing me here, I guess.”
“I’m sorry,” Ari said, mocking confusion. “Was that genuine gratitude? From you? To me?”
“Yeah, well don’t get used to it,” you muttered, your eyes flickering over the menu as your stomach growled.
Ari laughed. “If this food doesn’t entirely win you over, I may just need to resort to drastic measures.”
That warm purr of his was back, the innuendo heavy in his tone, and you gritted your teeth as your body betrayed you by shivering at the sound of it. You scowled at the pleased hum that rumbled from Ari’s chest as he observed your reaction, setting down your menu as you glared across the table at him.
You wanted to ruffle him as much as he was ruffling you, or even just a little at this point. The need to knock that arrogant smirk from his lips had you hissing your next words before you could think better of them.
“You could erect a statue in my honor and keep my bank account brimming for the rest of my life, and you still wouldn’t win me over, Mr. Levinson.”
There was a flash of steel in Ari’s gaze, a tick popping in his jaw as he stared at you silently for a long moment.
You felt satisfaction sweep through you.
And then Ari was leaning across the table, invading your space, as he murmured, “I’m gonna have to insist you call me ‘Ari,’ sweetheart. Especially when you’re talking to me like that.”
“Like what?” you challenged, your eyes bright with triumph.
“Like you’re just begging for me to take you over my knee right here, in front of everyone, and spank that perky ass of yours raw, until you’re crying for me to stop,” Ari husked.
Your breath caught, face flooding with warmth at that visual, and you hated--sincerely hated--the gush of arousal that had you clenching your thighs together.
Eyes glittering as he watched you knowingly, Ari chuckled. “Yeah, you like the sound of that, huh?”
“No,” you denied quickly, glancing away from him.
Ari caught your chin between his fingers and tugged your gaze back his way. “Yes you do. You look so pretty squirming for me, sweetheart.”
His thumb moved higher, pressing against the alluring pout of your bottom lip, and you silently yelled at yourself to yank away from his grip, to rebuff his words, anything…
Your body, however, wouldn’t listen, instead entranced and so unbelievably aware of Ari in this moment.
“Tell me,” he hummed, his knuckles gently caressing the cut of your jaw, up along your warm cheek. “Are your panties ruined for me already?”
You tried to jerk back, but Ari wouldn’t let you, his hand sliding around the back of your neck and gripping, holding you still.
“Is that pretty pussy that I paid top dollar for clenching around nothing, begging to be filled?”
“Shut up,” you hissed, trying to push away his hand.
Ari’s fingers pressed harder against your neck, not enough to hurt, just enough to prevent your escape. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m so hard for you it hurts.”
And Jesus, your body had a field day with that confession - a whimper falling from your lips as you shuddered hard in response. “Ari--”
Ari grunted at the sound of his name on your lips, swooping in close, until his breath was fanning across your face, his dark eyes avidly fixed on you. “Say it again.”
You swallowed, your neck starting to hurt at the way Ari had you unnaturally bent across the table. You whispered his name, your eyes smarting--your pride wounded--as that fucking smirk slowly curled his lips.
“Sounds so pretty, you saying my name like that,” Ari breathed. “Can’t wait to hear how it sounds when you’re taking my cock.”
Before you could respond--scathingly dispute his words--Ari was releasing you and straightening in his seat as your server appeared beside your table.
“Are we ready to order?” he asked, gaze flickering between you and Ari as you slowly sat back and reached for your glass of water with a trembling hand.
You didn’t even complain as Ari ordered for you both, your mind still whirling and body buzzing at the exchange from a moment ago…
At how shamelessly Ari had flaunted his desire for you.
His intentions for you.
And as much as you tried to be unaffected by him, despite how desperately you were trying to cling to your annoyance and stubbornness...
You knew it was a battle you were quickly losing.
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It took everything in you to not dive into the backseat of the town car as you and Ari left the restaurant, so desperate were you for this night to be over.
Ari had drawn out dinner as long as possible, trying to engage you in conversation, but you had thwarted his attempts to learn more about you with flat, one-word answers as you tried your best to enjoy the exquisite food on your plate.
The one time Ari had called you out on being a poor conversationalist, you had snapped.
“I’m just not wasting my energy on you and this throwaway evening, Mr. Levinson. Why bother when we won’t see eachother again?”
Instead of getting angry, Ari seemed entertained, and only grew more so the longer the meal stretched on. By the end of it, there was a different type of admiration in his gaze as he watched you.
You didn’t like that look one bit, nor the calculation flashing in his eyes as he ushered you to the car.
Ari was smirking again as he slid in beside you, but it was different than before, not so much arrogance as he knew something you didn’t.
It didn’t take long to figure out what had him so chipper as you realized the route you were driving was in the opposite direction of where you lived.
“Where are we going?” you huffed, shooting Ari an annoyed look as you crossed your arms over your chest. “The date was the ballet and dinner. I want to go home.”
“The ballet and dinner was just foreplay, sweetheart. We’re going back to my place now.” You opened your mouth to respond but Ari beat you to it. “Ah, ah, ah, you were the one who didn't want me in your home, so I’m respecting that boundary like a gentleman.”
“A gentleman?” you scoffed, staring at him in amazement. “Are you serious right now?! Take me home, Mr. Levinson, this date is over.”
“This date is over when I say it’s over.”
Cursing under your breath you sat forward, knocking on the privacy screen that was raised. “Take me home!”
Ari grabbed your arm, yanking you back into your seat. “They don’t answer to you, sweetheart. As far as they’re concerned, you don’t even have a fucking voice, you get me?”
“You are such an asshole,” you gritted, trying to tug your arm from Ari’s grip. When he refused to let go, grinning at your anger, you tried to claw at his face with your free hand, but he quickly dodged out of your reach.
You tussled for a moment, Ari laughing as he easily gathered your wrists in his hands, and before you knew it, he had you crowded against the corner of the seat as he pressed in close.
“Goddamn, you’re a fucking spitfire,” Ari smirked, his eyes taking their fill of your pretty, pinched face.
“Let go of me,” you gritted, breath hitching loudly as Ari swooped in close, invading your space until all you saw--all you felt--was him.
His large, warm body pressing into yours, his hands firm around your delicate wrists, his soft hair brushing against your face.
You hated to admit it, but he smelled good, and felt even better. He was even more beautiful up close, his skin pale and flawless, his eyes warm, deep pools of want - for you.
And that natural male dominance of his--the confidence, the power--it was rolling off of him in waves, making your brain all foggy.
You swallowed, a shudder shaking you beneath him as your body unconsciously arched closer to Ari--seeking his warmth.
He chuckled at your reaction, and a new wave of fury washed over you, making you hiss as you tried to yank your hands from his. “I’m serious! Get off!”
“I don’t think that’s what you really want,” Ari purred, dipping his head low to brush his nose against yours.
You stilled at the soft, intimate caress, your lips parting as Ari’s mouth hovered right over yours, his eyes burning with heat and sinful promise.
“I’ll tell you what,” he hummed, shifting his grip on you until he was holding both of your wrists in one hand. His free hand slid against your shoulder, then down. “Let’s play a game.” His touch reached your hip, squeezing you through your dress. “If that’s what you really want, nothing to do with me, I’ll take you home--”
“That is what I want!”
“But if you’re wet for me,” Ari continued as if you hadn’t spoken, his hand now dancing along your thigh, shaking your dress out of the way. “You’re coming home with me, without complaint.”
“No!” You felt the hot flood of mortification fill your cheeks as Ari’s hand slid between your legs. You tried squeezing your thighs together to keep him at bay, but you were no match for his strength.
His fingers brushed against the scrap of lace covering your center, finding it soaked through, and you got a glimpse of his devilish smile before you were squeezing your eyes shut and turning your face away.
“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, lips sliding against your warm cheek. “Dunno why you’re being so fucking difficult, honey, I’m more than happy to give you want you want.”
“I don’t--” your feeble lie died off into a loud gasp as Ari twisted his fingers in the flimsy material of your panties and ripped them clean off.
The warm, soft stroke of his fingers along the cut of you had you keening quietly as your back arched at his touch.
“Damnit...” you choked on your own words as Ari’s fingers found your clit, drawing soft circles over the needy little nub until you were spreading your legs for him and desperately rocking your hips against his fingers, seeking more.
“Fuck, look at you, so fucking stubborn but your body is begging for me, honey,” Ari husked, his voice a raspy rumble that had your nipples pebbling hard and achy. “Don’t any of those grandpas on your client list treat you right?”
“Shut up,” you cried, burying your face against your arm as you surrendered to Ari’s talented fingers.
Talented fingers that were pushing into you without warning and scissoring you open. He stroked your slick walls hard and stretched you out in a way that had you dropping your head back on a throaty moan. “Oh god.”
“Christ,” Ari muttered. “I didn’t think you’d be this tight.” His beard burned against the sensitive skin of your throat as he kissed his way up your neck, along your jaw. He dropped your wrists so he could cup the curve of your cheek and tilt your face toward him. “Look at me.”
Despite the way he was working your body like he knew it better than you did, you kept your eyes shut tight, the only defiance you could muster at this point as Ari worked you over with expert precision.
“Open those pretty eyes for me, honey,” Ari cooed, his thumb pressing against your clit.
Swallowing a whimper, you shook your head, turning your face away. You didn’t want to see that smug, self-satisfied look on his face, not at your expense.
But you also didn’t want him to stop.
Sighing, Ari did just that, going still. His fingers stuffed your cunt but not much else as that delightful friction that had been setting you ablaze from the inside out slowly started to fade.
“No,” you whined, blinking your eyes open and glaring at him as you met his triumphant gaze.
“There she is,” Ari murmured, his fingers slowly starting to move again. “Can’t wait to be buried inside this needy cunt. Gonna stuff you with my cock and fuck you all night long, gorgeous. Until you're begging for my cum. Until you’re fucking thanking me for making you feel so good and the last thing on your mind is leaving me.”
Moaning, you didn’t resist as Ari dropped his head and kissed you. He took his time, the slow, savoring exploration of his lips a complete contrast to the way his thick fingers were railing you without relent.
When his fingers curled, brushing against that sweet spot inside of you, you spasmed beneath him, mewling against his parted lips as he pulled back to watch you.
“That’s it, sweetheart, let go.” Ari nipped at your lips, his thumb ruthlessly rubbing around your clit as his fingers stroked against your sweet spot. “Wanna watch you fucking lose it for me. All for me.”
“Ari, I...I’m--” words were lost to you as you climaxed, your body going rigid and still for a few seconds as you teetered on the peak of your pleasure, and then you were tumbling down the other side of it, gasping and moaning as wave after wave of euphoria washed over you.
“Fuck, look at you,” Ari grunted, his fingers still stroking you deep as you rode out your pleasure against his hand, your hips jerking against him hard, driving his fingers as deep as they could go.
With a final broken whimper, you went pliant, your thoroughly worked over body sagging back against the car seat as you panted for breath.
Your face was warm and dewey with sweat as you tried to collect yourself.
Tried to ignore just how good Ari had made you feel.
How quickly he had brought you over the edge.
And just how much you had enjoyed it.
It had been a long time since anyone made you feel this way, swept you away in a sea of pleasure like this, and Ari had barely even touched you.
Beneath the surface of your still ebbing pleasure, you could feel a surge of panic, because this is exactly what you didn’t want - to be so affected by one of your clients.
Especially Ari Levinson.
He must have seen the turmoil written across your face, because Ari’s heated gaze softened as you tried to turn away. He wouldn’t let you, his hand firm against your cheek as he held your gaze and gently pulled his fingers from your body.
He was quiet--transfixed--as he tenderly painted your slick against your parted lips, his eyes igniting with a dark hunger as you quietly whined in response.
Ari dipped his head and kissed you slowly, humming at the taste of you. He lapped your juices from your own lips before deepening the kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth and pressing against your own, until the salty sweet tang of your bliss was bursting across your tastebuds.
You hadn’t realized you’d been clutching him so tightly, your fingers clawing at Ari’s jacket until he gently pulled away, and you leaned forward to follow.
He watched you for a long moment, his kiss-swollen lips slowly curling as he murmured, “What do you say we call a truce now, sweetheart? No more fighting. No more complaining. Just you and me, back at my place, making each other feel good.”
You stared at him, feeling your knee jerk response to sass him back spark, but it faded surprisingly quick as Ari’s finger gently caressed your cheek, as you felt your core still throbbing with want, despite how good he just made you feel.
Jesus, if he could reduce you to this mindless, wanting woman with just his fingers, you literally shuddered to think what he’d do with his cock. With his mouth.
“Fine,” you whispered at last, your gaze unflinching as it met Ari’s. “But just for tonight.”
As that pleased smirk of his curled across his lips, you didn’t feel anger or resentment or any of the other feelings you’d been stewing in half the night bubble up. Instead, you just felt anticipation…
And the warm, curling heat of want deep in your core.
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The Manhattan skyline was dark and twinkling on the other side of the floor to ceiling windows of Ari’s spacious penthouse.
You stared out into the dark expanse, shivering then hugging yourself tightly.
Ari’s reflection appeared over your shoulder, catching your gaze, and you watched as he stepped up behind you, warm hands gently rubbing your arms.
Rather than stiffen and yank out of his touch, you leaned back against him, having come to terms with not only your surrender--but your unbridled want for him--long before you stepped foot in Ari’s home.
You would allow yourself this - this one night of being swept away by someone else, of giving in to your desire, because you’d never felt it this strongly before.
And as much as it scared you, that Ari could make you feel this way, as untethered as you felt at the thought of his power over you…
You wanted him.
So as Ari rained soft kisses along your shoulder and up the column of your throat, you dropped your head to the side, allowing him better access to taste and nip along your skin.
“What made you pick me?” you asked the question that had been on your mind since your phone call with Maxine. “What made you so interested in me that you convinced Maxine to shake things up? We have a whole roster of girls, most of them much more eager for a new VIP than me.”
“I don’t want anyone else,” Ari murmured against your ear. He gave it a soft, playful nip. “I want you.”
“You don’t even know me.”
There was a long pause, and then Ari’s voice was washing over you...
“Tonight isn’t the first time we’ve been in the same place together.”
“What?” You turned, brows furrowed as you stared up at him, waiting for an explanation.
“A few months ago, you were with Price at that museum charity gala.”
“You know Richard?”
“A bit,” Ari shrugged. “Sometimes we travel in the same social circles.” He smoothed his hands down your sides, palming along the curves of your body before circling his arms around your back and tugging you against his chest. “I’ll be honest, your looks caught my eye first. You’re a beautiful woman. Confident. Poised. But also sweet.”
Your lips quirked at that, eyes glittering. “I haven’t shown you a lick of sweetness all night, Mr. Levinson.”
He laughed. “Not me, but him, and others that night.” His hand trailed up your back, fingers gliding over your spine, making you shiver. “I knew right away the dynamic. It’s not hard to guess when he’s clearly so out of your league--”
“Don’t talk about him that way, he’s a good man,” you huffed.
“That right there!” Ari jostled you against him, his gaze intent. “That’s what drew me to you.”
“My attitude?”
“I mean, that certainly doesn't hurt,” Ari smirked. “I like that smart mouth of yours, sweetheart, gets me all riled up.”
His hips pressed against you, and your breath caught at the hard press of him against your belly.  
“But what I was talking about was your loyalty,” he finished.
You frowned, confused.
Ari laughed, shaking his head. “I watched you most of the night, watched the way you so effortlessly engaged with a bunch of strangers. The way you doted on Price. And the way that any time he left you by yourself, despite the men who kept throwing themselves at you--most of them younger, richer, and better looking than Price--you just kindly turned them all down. You didn’t even bat a fucking eye, this woman who makes a living on companionship...Price was the only person in your world that night, the lucky bastard.”
For the first time since the start of your evening with Ari, you felt that flustered feeling sweep through you again.
You felt shy, and a little vulnerable, that this complete stranger had seen that in you, had seen you for more than just expensive, brainless eye candy.
“So, what?” you murmured, fingers dancing along the buttons of his shirt. “You figured you just steamroll Price and take what you wanted for yourself?”
“Exactly.”
You snorted, shaking your head as you rolled your eyes at Ari. “That’s not how this works, Mr. Levinson.”
“Stop calling me that,” he admonished, steering you backwards until your back pressed against the cool glass of the windows and you shivered.
“Or what?” You smirked. “I think it’s good for you, not always getting what you want.”
“Not many people tell me no,” Ari murmured, his hand cupping your chin and tilting your face back as he ducked closer. “I kind of like it when you do.”
He kissed you slowly, sensually, those soft, plump lips of his working your own until you were gasping into his mouth and surrendering to his tongue.
Ari pulled away suddenly, eyes twinkling at your confused gaze, and then he was spinning you around and pressing you flush to the windows.
You sighed as he kissed along your bare shoulders, then your neck, dragging his beard against your soft skin until he left a burn in its wake. His fingers dropped to the zip of your gown and he lowered it slowly, kissing each new inch of exposed skin, lower and lower, until he was kneeling behind you, mouthing at the dip of your back.
You shook your gown free, shivering as it fluttered to your feet in a shimmery pool of fabric. Moaning as Ari cupped your bare ass in his hands and gave each cheek a hard squeeze, you felt him rise tall behind you.
He made quick work of your strapless bra, his big hands palming your breasts as he tugged your back to his chest.
Your head fell against Ari’s shoulder, your hooded eyes finding his in the reflection of the window, and you moaned quietly as his fingers pinched your nipples to pointed little peaks as he kissed and nipped along the curve of your shoulder.
“You wet for me, honey?” he whispered against your neck.
You nodded, breath catching as Ari shifted, rutting against you, until you felt the hard length of him nestled against your ass.
“Show me.”
Your body obeyed his words before your mind could even process them, your hand dipping between your legs, fingers sliding along your folds until they were messy with your slick.
Ari’s hand dropped to your wrist, tugging your hand up. He tucked his chin against your shoulder, sucking your shining fingers into his mouth with a quiet groan. You moaned in response, at the feel of his hot tongue swirling around your fingers and licking them clean.
Once he pulled your fingers from his mouth with a quiet pop, Ari was angling your face toward his, licking his way into your mouth and sharing your taste with you.
“Wanna taste you some more,” Ari spoke against your swollen lips before dropping to his knees behind you.
He pressed you against the window, big hands framing your hips and tugging your ass back and out, until you were bent over, an obscene display, just for him. Your hot cheek was flush to the cool glass as Ari palmed an ass cheek in each hand and pulled them apart.
You whimpered as cool air hit the wet place between your legs, feeling more arousal gush from you and leak down your thighs.
“Fuck, look at this pretty pussy,” Ari groaned.
His words were a warm puff against your throbbing flesh, and then Ari was pressing his face against you and licking a firm stripe along your cunt.
Your cry was sharp and wordless as your body spasmed.
Laughing, Ari held you more firmly before diving back in. His tongue was hot and eager, swiping along every fold and dip of your heat. He was shameless as he tasted you, as he slurped the evidence of your pleasure from between your legs.
“Fuck!” you choked as Ari shook his head a little, his beard scraping your intimate flesh as his fingers snuck around to play with your clit. As his tongue teased your weeping hole, you couldn’t stop the plea from falling from your lips, “Please, Ari! Please!”
Ari pulled away, licking your juices from his swollen lips. “Tell me what you want, honey,” he purred against your ass cheek, peppering kisses along your heated flesh and laughing as you rocked back against him in desperation.
“Please!” You whined as he pressed soft, sweet kisses along the messy folds of your sex. “Ari, please!”
“Want me to fuck that sweet pussy with my mouth?”
“Yes!”
You could feel him grin against the curve of your ass, a gasp hitching in your throat as he bit your skin hard before he was spreading your cheeks once more and pressing his face to your cunt from behind.
Your moan was nothing short of pornographic as Ari’s tongue fucked into your tight, quivering channel. The firm muscle explored your center as you rutted back against his face, ragged, high-pitched cries raining from your lips.
When his fingers pinched your clit, you were gone, your body convulsing hard as your orgasm tore through you. Your keen was choked as your knees buckled, your body feeling both loose and overwrought as Ari gathered you against him.
He twisted and laid you out on the soft throw rug before the fireplace before he stood and stripped quickly, tossing his clothes aside. Ari’s gaze was unflinching as he drank in your thorough state of ruin, sinking to his knees before you, his hand gripping the base of his hard cock as he grunted.
You blinked owlishly, your orgasmic haze slowly lifting, but you were soon dazed all over again as you got a good look at Ari naked.
He was beautiful, broad and thick, his skin golden and chest hair dark. His arms bulged and flexed as he slowly stroked himself, the muscles in his stomach jumping as he stared down at you. Then he was slowly stretching over you.
Ari caged you in with his forearms, his hair tickling your face as his nose brushed yours. You moaned quietly as his cock settled against your thigh, hot and heavy, shifting until you felt it nestle against your slit.
“Waited so long to have you beneath me,” Ari murmured, teasing your parted lips with a slow kiss, teeth nipping and tongue soothing. His hand dropped, gripping his length and slowly dragging it along your wet folds.
You mewled as Ari rubbed the head of his cock--dribbling with pre-cum--against your swollen clit. Your hands slid around his back, yanking him closer, legs spreading and knee hitching over his hip to try and get him where you wanted him.
Inside you.
Grinning, Ari kissed from the corner of your mouth, along your cheek, until his lips were brushing against your ear. “Tell me you’re mine.”
Your whine was quiet, stubborn.
“Say it,” Ari hummed, nipping at your earlobe as the tip of his cock teased your opening. He caught just inside of you and stilled at the sound of your sharp gasp, leaning back to watch your face.
“Ari,” you begged, trying to rock up against him and glowering as he planted a big hand on your belly and held you still. He gave the shallowest of thrusts, but it was enough of a tease to break you. “I’m yours,” you whispered, eyes burning at just how truthful those words felt.
“Mine,” Ari growled in agreement, gaze dark and intense as he snapped his hips forward, burying himself deep in the warm, welcoming heat of your body. “Fuck.”
You threw your head back on a strangled cry, body tense and trembling at the sudden invasion, at the burn and stretch of Ari filling you. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, fingers clawing at Ari’s back as your eyes fluttered, a few tears streaming down your temples as you mewled at the overwhelm.
You’d never felt so full in your life.
So completely and thoroughly consumed by another.
And then Ari started gently rocking his hips, pushing and pulling, working you open for him, until you were chanting his name, more plea than prayer.
Moaning, Ari dropped his forehead to yours as his hips retreated fully and then he drove into you hard.
“Fuck, you were made for me,” he panted, fucking you harder. “Just for me.” His next stroke was slow and deep, and he smirked as you tipped your head back with a throaty cry, begging him for more. “Look at you, honey, so desperate for this cock.”
He rutted into you with force, grinding his hips, making you shudder and mewl before picking up his pace.
“Isn’t that right?” Ari breathed, spearing into you with another firm stroke. His hand slid down your quivering stomach, thumb strumming your clit. “Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight, goddamn.”
The coil in your belly drew tighter and tighter, stealing the very breath from your lungs as your head began to buzz. “Oh god, I...I’m--”
“You’re gonna cum for me like a good girl,” Ari panted against your lips, hips slamming against yours with abandon. “Come on, sweetheart, let me feel it. Go on, it’s what you were made for, milking my cock.”
You were mindless as the coil in your belly snapped, both unable to process Ari’s words but a distant part of you knowing they were what sent you over the edge. And then all your thoughts went quiet as your body shook, as your cunt pulsed around Ari’s cock, making him hiss and rut into you at a brutal pace.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he groaned, his hard, relentless rhythm finally starting to falter. “Gonna fill this pussy with my seed.” Another hard, deep stroke. “‘Cause you’re mine.” A few more thrusts and a dirty grind. “Mine,” Ari grunted.
You gasped as his forehead dropped to yours, his cock twitching hard inside of you before you felt the hot burn of his cum flooding you.
“Take it,” Ari moaned, hips jerking against you, pumping you full of his pleasure until he was sagging against you, sweaty and satisfied.
You didn’t resist as his lips pressed against yours, his kiss languid and thorough as his tongue swept into your mouth.
“Let’s move this to my bedroom, honey,” Ari murmured once you separated. “‘Cause our night isn’t over until I get to watch you ride my cock, and you’re so full of my cream I’m leaking down those pretty thighs of yours.”
Laughing as you clenched around him hard at that imagery, Ari gave your swollen lips another peck before pulling away.
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It was still dark when you awoke hours later, sprawled against Ari’s naked chest, your body sore but ridiculously sated.
Blinking tiredly, you slowly sat up in bed, glancing over at a still sleeping Ari.
He really was stupidly attractive, the sheets twisted around his hips, his glorious upper body and torso on full display.
You’d lost count of the number of times you’d fucked each other stupid, but it had seemed like each new round was somehow better than the last.
Flashes of how pretty and gone for you Ari had looked beneath you as you bounced on his cock filled your mind. You remembered the harsh burn of his beard as you rode his face. The way he’d hit that spot inside of you you didn’t even know existed as he fucked you from behind.
And yet somehow, after hours and hours of the best sex of your life, you still felt the spark of want coming to life in your belly.
It was so time to go.
You’d broken all your rules and given in to your desperate desire for Ari, for one night only, and now the night was over.
It was time to put Ari, and whatever this was, to rest.
For good.
You slid from Ari’s big bed, sparing him a final lingering glance before you padded from his room. You used the guest bathroom on the other side of his penthouse to clean up, fetching your clothes and shoes from the living room and redressing quickly.
Once you had all your things, you tiptoed to the front door, unlocking it and pulling it open.
You nearly screamed as a large, bulky figure filled your vision and blocked your exit.
“Miss, you need to go back inside until morning,” he grunted.
“W-what?!” you stuttered. “I’m leaving.”
“Mr. Levinson’s directives were clear, you’ll leave in the morning.”
Your eyes narrowed, hand falling to your hip. “Look, asshole, I’m not his prisoner. Our night is over, and I’m leaving.”
You tried to shove past him, going still as his big hand fell to his hip, and you got a glimpse of a gun. You stumbled away quickly, yelping as you fell against a warm, firm body.
“No need for that, Silas,” Ari’s voice was a quiet rumble against the top of your head. His hands fell to your hips, and you twisted in his grasp, your look scathing.
“I want to go home. We said one night, and now the night is over.”
“You said one night,” Ari smirked, his fingers gripping your hips harder. “Come on, sweetheart, we had fun, didn’t we? Just stay till morning, and I’ll take you home.”
“No!” you huffed, shoving against his chest.
Because god, part of you wanted to.
Part of you wanted to crawl back into bed with Ari and pass out curled up against his broad chest. Part of you wanted to wake up to him filling you with his cock and fucking you until you were both desperate for a shower.
You shook yourself--and those thoughts--right from your head. “Mr. Levinson,” you snapped, back to your no-nonsense tone from the start of the evening. “I want to go home.”
You met his gaze, feeling a tug at your heart at his look of disappointment, of hurt.
“Please,” you whispered, glancing away as your eyes stung for reasons you were too tired to fathom.
Sighing, Ari gave your hips a final squeeze before glancing over your head to Silas. “Call her a car.”
“Thank you,” you said stiffly, shaking out of Ari’s grip and hugging yourself tightly. You turned toward the hall, intent on waiting for your ride in the lobby, but gasped as Ari grabbed your wrist and yanked you back toward him.
You stumbled into his chest, glaring up at him as he held you close--captive--against his naked chest, that damn smirk on his lips.
“You can pretend like you don’t want me all you like, honey, but we both know the truth.” His head dipped low, lips touching the shell of your ear. “You’re mine, and this is far from over.” He straightened, grinning as you tried to shove him away. “I’ll be seeing you again real soon, sweetheart.”
“Like hell you will!” you hissed, finally yanking free of his grip. You shot Ari a final scathing look before storming past Silas and down the hall to the elevator.
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A few days later, you walked into the agency office--located in a fancy high rise in Midtown Manhattan--with your head held high and your resolve firm.
It hadn’t been a surprise that you received an email from Maxine requesting a meeting this morning.
You knew there’d be a follow up to your disastrous date with Ari Levinson, and you were more than happy to oblige Maxine so that you could officially refuse Ari as a client and get this whole unpleasant debacle over with.
Just knowing it would likely not be a very pleasant conversation had your stomach in knots as Maxine’s assistant showed you into her empty office to wait for the arrival of the woman herself.
You settled into one of the chairs before the fancy executive desk, crossing your legs and smoothing the hem of your dress over your thighs as you waited.
Part of you felt like you had been called into the principal’s office and were in trouble, and another part of you was still angry with Maxine for this fuckery to begin with.
And yet another part of you--one you’d been stuffing down as deep as you could for days--wondered if it would really be so bad to have Ari as your Platinum VIP.
Your traitorous brain was quick to fill with erotic images--memories--of your night with Ari.
Firm muscles and husky moans, the drag of Ari’s cock inside your quivering body, the way he whispered filthy promises and soft praises in your ear as he took you. The way he so effortlessly and so thoroughly owned you and your body, and how you’d loved every second of it.
“Ugh,” you groaned at yourself, shaking your head to rid yourself of those kinds of thoughts.
The office door opened behind you and you straightened.
“I told you it wouldn’t work,” you said without turning around.
“And I told you I’d be seeing you again real soon, sweetheart.”
Your heart leapt into your throat at the sound of Ari’s voice and you could only openly gape at him--stunned--as he rounded Maxine’s desk and sat in her chair.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
Ari’s lips curled into a smirk as he leaned forward, his eyes leisurely taking their fill of you, lingering on your flowy little dress, your bare legs, before his gaze met yours. “I won’t draw this out, honey, although I know how much you like that.”
You shivered at his knowing purr, lips curling back over your teeth as you snarled at him, “I swear to god--”
“I bought the agency,” Ari interrupted you.
You blinked at him, uncomprehending. “What?”
Ari tapped his fingers on the ledger sitting on Maxine’s desk. You knew it was her employee roster and each girl’s client list.
“I gave Maxine an offer she couldn’t refuse, and now, sweetheart, you report to me.”
You swallowed, your throat going dry, your belly flipping as you took a moment to really glance around the office for the first time as your mind tried to process Ari’s words.
The furniture and decor was the same, but all of Maxine’s personal effects were gone. The framed photos of her family, the various trinkets and client thank you gifts, all gone.
“You...you can’t be serious,” you whispered faintly, frantic gaze making its way back to Ari.
He didn’t bother to reply with words, just threw you that smirk as he lounged back in his seat.
You lept to your feet, hands fisted at your slides as your body vibrated with fury. “You can’t do this!”
“I’ve already done it, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me that!” you hissed, jaw clenching as you glanced away, your brain whirring.
“From what I remember you like it when I call you that,” Ari drawled. “Especially when I’m ruining you with my cock. Mmm, I think my favorite round was when I had you ass up and face down, drooling into my sheets as I owned that tight wet--”
“Shut up!” you screeched, your overwhelm boiling over as you dropped your head into your hands and tried to think. You hissed quiet obscenities as a few tears escaped, batting them away. “I want to talk to Maxine. Now.”
“Maxine’s starting her retirement in the Bahamas,” Ari told you. “And it doesn’t matter anyway, she’s not in charge anymore. I am.”
“Then I quit,” you said numbly, straightening to look at him. “I won’t work for you.”
Ari’s eyes flashed. “So you have two million dollars to buy out the remainder of your contract? I know you’re paid well for your time, honey, but I don’t think you’re paid that well.”
“Two million,” you scoffed. “You’re crazy, you’re--”
“You signed your latest contract three months ago,” Ari said, sitting up and reaching for a stack of folders on the corner of the desk. The top one had your name on it, and he tossed it toward you. “It’s all there in black and white, and you signed it. So you can finish out the remaining nine months of your contract or buy yourself out for two mil. Those are your only options.”
You stared blindly at the folder, not bothering to reach for it. You knew what the terms of your contract were. You’d signed enough of them over the years and never thought twice about it.
Because you had a pretty sweet deal. Because Maxine let you maintain the client list you wanted. Because never in a million years would you think something like this would happen.
You had some savings, and you were well paid, but you didn’t have two millions dollars. You didn’t have anything close to that.
Your chest constricted and your stomach sank as this new reality settled over you.
Not only could you not refuse Ari Levinson as your client, but he truly owned you now…
And there was nothing you could do about it.
“So here’s how this is gonna work,” Ari said. “Your other clients have been redistributed to some of the other girls. I’m your only client now, your Platinum VIP.”
“Isn’t that some sort of conflict of interest?” you argued half-heartedly, your voice small and flat as you tried hard to keep it together.
You knew it didn’t matter, and Ari’s response only confirmed that.
“I told you, honey, I’m not much for rules and being told no.”
You could actually feel it, the lovely little life you had worked so hard to build for yourself slowly crumbling down around you.
You could feel the freedom to make your own decisions and live on your own terms slipping away.
You could feel the wall you’d built up around your heart--to keep others out and you safe--falter.
Your life as you knew it was over.
A fresh wave of tears blurred your vision and you turned away so Ari wouldn’t see your moment of weakness.
“Dunno why you’re being so difficult,” Ari sighed. “You’ll only have to host me. I’ll pay you twice as much as you were making with four clients. I’ll treat you like a fucking queen.”
“I don’t want to be your queen,” you cried, turning back to him.
“You don’t have a choice,” Ari snapped.
“So, that’s it?” you huffed, some of your fire reigniting at Ari’s tone. “You say ‘jump’ and I say ‘how high’? I just have to fall in line with every little thing you say? I don’t get to decide anything for myself anymore?”
Ari smirked at your attitude. “I didn’t say that,” he said slyly, checking his watch before pushing his chair back from the desk. “I have a business call in a few minutes, and you’re gonna warm my cock while I take it. You can decide how. That smart mouth of yours, or that pretty pussy that I just bet is already weeping for me.”
His words sent a wave of desire through you, and despite how angry you were--how outraged--you felt your panties grow wet with your arousal. You couldn’t suppress your fidgeting or the way you thighs pressed together.
Laughing, Ari crooked his finger at you, his eyes dark and knowing. “Come on, honey, I missed you. Didn’t you miss me? Just a little?”
“No,” you muttered, but you found yourself going to him anyway. Your body felt out of your control as you rounded the desk and closed the distance between you two, unable to refuse the siren call of one Ari Levinson, no matter how much you wished you could.
Even standing over him, you felt small in comparison. He had no right to be that attractive. To look so good in his soft, black sweater and gray slacks, the seams of both struggling around his biceps and his thick thighs.
But it was his eyes that had your anger slowly ebbing away as anticipation took its place. A blue so dark they were nearly black as he looked up at you with so much want--so much possession--you were nearly struck dumb.
No one had ever looked at you like that before.
You wouldn’t let them. If they even got close, just a small glimmer of that type of look directed your way, you ran.
But you couldn’t run from Ari Levinson.
He made sure of that.
Ari reached out, his fingers trailing up your thigh, then around, pulling you closer. “Don’t get me wrong, I like when you’re stubborn, but I fucking love it when you let go for me, sweetheart. I think you like it too, you just think you shouldn’t.”
That quiet, traitorous voice in the back of your mind agreed with him, and you quickly stuffed it down.
“Just, shut up,” you whispered, shivering as Ari’s fingers played along the front of your panties. His touch pressed until the fabric was soaked and you were gasping, hands falling to his big shoulders and gripping hard.
“Only got a few minutes till my call,” Ari murmured, rucking your dress up and yanking you close. His hands gripped your ass as he nuzzled along the front of your panties, breathing in your scent with a quiet groan. “Where do you want me?” He pressed a kiss over your covered clit, finger teasing your hole through your panties as his gaze flickered up to yours. “Here?”
“Yes.” The word fell from your lips faster than you expected, but your body knew what it wanted, even if your mind was still clinging to dregs of resistance.
Ari’s smile was warm as he sat back and unbuckled his belt. “Get rid of those panties, sweetheart.” Unfastening his pants, he grunted as he pulled out his cock, stroking himself until he was fully hard and watching you kick away your panties.
He grabbed your hand and tugged you between his legs, but you shook him off, smirking at his glower.
“No, like this,” you murmured, turning your back to him. He got the picture quick and helped you get situated in his lap, groaning as your body slowly sheathed his cock and you leaned your back against his chest.
“Fuck, you’re so tight like this,” he murmured against your ear, hands sliding along your thighs and pressing them together even more as he kissed along your throat. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight as he thrust up into you hard.
You moaned, hands falling to his and gripping. “I thought you said cockwarming, not fucking.”
His cell phone began to ring, and Ari groaned. “You’re lucky I really do have to take this call, sweetheart. But make no mistake, I’ll fuck you real good after.”
Shuddering at his promise, you didn’t complain as Ari settled more comfortably in his seat, holding you close as he answered the call on speaker phone.
“Levinson.”
“Ari, it’s Andy Barber,” a low voice spoke over the phone. “It’s good to finally connect with you.”
Closing your eyes, you rested your head against Ari’s shoulder, only half paying attention to his conversation as you focused on how good his cock felt nestled deep inside your body. How perfectly he filled you.
How much you couldn’t wait to be filled with his cum.
You clenched hard at the thought and Ari muffled a hiss against your neck. “Be good,” he warned before clearing his throat and getting back to his call.
“Thanks for taking the time, Andy. I hear you’ve been pretty busy and that congratulations are in order. I hope married life is treating you well?”
Andy’s laugh was warm. “It’s a fucking dream.”
“You joined with a powerful family,” Ari observed, his hands slowly rubbing along your arms. “Pretty impressive considering your syndicate isn’t as established as some.”
Andy hummed in agreement. “I may not have the history, but I make up for it with drive and having a head for the game.”
You could hear the smile in Ari’s voice as he replied, “Why do you think we’re talking?”
He shifted restlessly beneath you, his hand falling between your thighs, fingers teasing your clit.
You slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your moan, rocking against him for a second, before grabbing his hand and stilling it against your quivering body.
Ari smiled against your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss there before speaking to Andy again. “I’d love to come up there for a face to face. Maybe the last week of the month, does that work for you?”
“That’s perfect,” Andy confirmed. “I’ve followed your work for a while, Ari, and I like how you operate, that you’re not afraid to break from tradition and take a risk. I think we could work well together.”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Ari hummed. “I’ll have my assistant connect with yours and make the arrangements.”
“Sounds good. Thanks for your time, Ari,” Andy said. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Take care,” Ari replied before tapping his phone screen to end the call.
And then he was launching himself forward and bending you over the desk.
You moaned as his hips retreated before slamming into you hard. Your hands scrambled for purchase on his desk, crumbling papers and knocking over his pen holder.
“Now I’m pretty sure I made you a promise, sweetheart,” Ari murmured against the back of your neck, planting a kiss on your nape. His next few thrusts were shallow--teasing--as he scraped his beard against the crook of your neck and hummed as you whimpered in response. “Tell me.”
Your heart skipped a beat, mouth hanging open as Ari took his time spearing into you slow and deep as his fingers barely played over your clit, just enough to have you moving against him, desperate for more.
“Come on, honey,” Ari whispered against your ear. “You know what I want to hear.”
And you did.
You lost count of the number of times he made you say it the other night. How it seemed like his cock got a little harder when those words fell from your lips.
You shuddered as you spoke them aloud, “I’m yours.”
“Fucking right you are,” Ari grunted, hands curling around your hips as he pulled out till just the tip of his cock was teasing your opening before driving back into you hard. “Mine. All mine.” Another hard, deep thrust. “Only mine, isn’t that right?”
“Yes!” you gasped loudly as Ari fell into a brutal pace, fucking you hard enough to make his desk shake and creak.
And distantly--fleetingly--that stubborn voice of yours sounded in your head, begging you to resist or at least curb your enthusiasm for Ari Levinson and his addictive cock.
But with every slap of Ari’s hips against your ass, with every stroke of his cock in your cunt, and every swirl of his fingers over your clit, that voice got quieter and quieter, until you couldn’t hear it at all.
All you could hear was Ari chanting that you were his as he showed you just how much.
And you?
As much as you hated to admit it - you fucking loved every second of it.
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WELL?!?! WHAT DO WE THINK? DID YOU LIKE MY LIL SURPRISE THERE FOR Y’ALL?! 😘😘😘
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Read the rest of my Kinktober 2020 stories here!
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Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though! ❤️
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cipheramnesia · a year ago
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Genuine question?? Im a 19 y/o lesbian and ?? I dont find p*nis attractive does that make me a TERF?
I’m happy you sent this ask, because it’s a perfect place to talk about how someone can get hurt, feel wronged, and become susceptible to extremist recruiting.
First off, treat this as a simple yes or no question, asked with zero surrounding context, the platonic idea of penis preference if you will. “I don’t find penises attractive” is not a sentiment that makes you a TERF. You’re okay not liking them. My nonbinary wife doesn’t particularly like them, yet they are married to me (who has one) and we love each other more than anything in the world. 
In fact, in the abstract, I don’t like ‘em much either, and I own one! Ridiculous looking thing, wish I didn’t have to deal with it. A general dislike of genitals doesn’t make you a TERF… not by itself.
Now, here is where the critical thinking comes in, because if you posted something like that on Tumblr or something, it has a different context. You might not even know! It could be a totally innocent mistake, and it happens, and some women either get criticized in ways that makes them feel attacked, or actually attacked because you never know if what you post online is hitting someone on a bad day or a good day. 
The context first of all is, without any clarifying statements, saying you don’t like a genital could imply you’re reducing anyone with that particular set of genitals down to their genitals only. And it could result in either someone telling you it sounds TERFy (if they’re trying to be gentle) or calling you a TERF (if they’re out of spoons) because that’s what TERFs do. Here’s where it becomes a recruit pitch.
You say “I don’t like penises.” This doesn’t mean you’re saying you dislike trans women (not all of whom have penises anyway), but if you get the above lecture/yelling, a radfem can come along and empathetically agree how unfair it is that someone made you hurt for saying you don’t like a genital, and it’s not fair to tell a lesbian she has to sleep with a male or she’s a TERF and- OH WAIT A MINUTE!
Hold up, it looks like they were just being nice but wait wait, they just slid cozily from “it’s okay not to like a penis” to “anyone with a penis is male.” See that? Like a sleight of hand, once you’ve agreed with that premises, saying “I don’t like penises” suddenly becomes attached to “and anyone with a penis is male.”
Alright now in context, going back this kind of equivalency is so common with radfems that at this point saying you don’t like a genital is what we call a dogwhistle. It’s a phrase which is seemingly innocent, and can be innocent, which has been so widely appropriated by a hate group that it carries extra connotations in a certain context. Contexts like posting on Tumblr, which happens to have a particularly large trans population.
Now you can’t know every single dogwhistle because that’s the whole reason they exist - so normal people don’t spot someone’s bigotry and it looks like a disenfranchised group is getting angry over an innocent statement.
And lastly, which you probably already know, but generally not being interested in something doesn’t have to equate to disliking anyone with that trait, or even not being attracted to someone with that trait. I bring this up because the difference between a lesbian who just generally doesn’t like a genital and a TERF is that the TERF things anyone with a penis is automatically bad and a male and probably reading this right now thinks I’m saying you have to have sex with men or like penises, somehow, despite saying exactly the opposite.
You may have a general preference, but in practice I’m sure you’ve already found a difference between “I am physically attracted to how this person looks” and “Holy shit I think this person is amazing and everything about them is wonderful.” If you haven’t had that experience yet, I can promise you some day you will. Not necessarily over genitals, but some day someone, or many someones, will be part of your life and you’ll value every part of them, whether or not it’s something you normally find abstractly attractive.
Keep your heart open to kindness and caring for other people, keep your mind open to constructive criticism, and you’ll never be a radfem or TERF or SWERF or whatever. That’s all.
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headspace-hotel · 4 months ago
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I feel like whenever there’s a post talking about, like, autistic people doing boundary-violating behavior or otherwise Icky Stuff, there’s loads of reblogs like “well I’m autistic and *I* know that’s bad to do” implying that, like…the behavior is either unconnected to being autistic or that a Real Autistic person wouldn’t do that.
But look. In middle and high school I had a couple of very, very unhealthy, obsessive… “crushes” or fixations on people that led me to do all sorts of uncomfortable and boundary-crossing things, and in hindsight I feel awful about because I realize how uncomfortable I probably made those people feel.
And it was 100% connected to me Being Autistic, and it doesn’t help me to pretend that it wasn’t, because my brain was just very, very prone to doing the obsession thing. I feel like it’s almost like an awkward secret we don’t talk about, but you absolutely can have a “special interest” in a PERSON.
It was not healthy. At all. I was miserable and the people I was fixating on were surely not having a great time either.
I’ve felt…awful about it, for a long time, because it’s pretty difficult to talk about your autism being connected to something you did that was Objectively Shitty, and it WAS Objectively Shitty. 100%. And at least on tumblr, people will want to be like “no your autism didn’t make you do Bad Thing, you just chose to be bad and are blaming your autism.”
But what actually went wrong?
The first thing is that I did not understand what was happening in a way that let be like “hey, maybe this is hurting me and hurting the other person.” I went into this miserable obsessive spiral centered on a person and thought “oh, this is what a crush is like” and everything I saw validated me.
I was told by the world around me and my peers that “crushes” were just Like This, that being fixated on someone to that extent and making it their problem was normal, that going into intense periods of depression over the actions of someone I barely knew was normal, because…that was how I saw romantic love portrayed.
The second thing was that social norms around this kind of thing rely so heavily on you being to “pick up on” others’ feelings and intentions toward you and being able to “take a hint,” so to speak, or pick up on “signs” that a person is into you.
I think we all have heard anecdotes about some Weird Guy that keeps persisting in trying to be friendly with a girl he obviously likes, even though she is showing obvious discomfort and disinterest. It’s still not as much of a norm as it should be to just outright say, “hey, I don’t know if you want to be friends or have romantic feelings for me, and so I thought it was a good idea to let you know that I’m not into you romantically.”
Like there’s definitely a sense where it’s implied that only someone who is a Total Creep would fail to “take the hint.” But it’s still a hint, and if you are a person who has spent your entire life trying to adjust to very unintuitive, ambiguous “social rules,” it won’t necessarily feel intuitive to back off when someone is “hinting” that you’re not wanted.
And also adults are just so willing to excuse or ignore boundary-violating behavior when they see it in kids. And it’s kind of the same thing: there’s this assumption that if they don’t just “figure out” how to treat people once they become older, without being told, they are just…creepy anyway?
Like “no means no” but also if you need to be given a No to understand that you’re expected to back off, you’re a creep.
I wish I had been given a more consent-based framework. I don’t mean sexual consent, I mean that in a general way.
Like, as an autistic child, you learn that you can’t walk up to someone and be like “Hi. I see that you like to play with dinosaurs. I also like to play with dinosaurs. Do you want to be my friend?” At least you can’t do that past, like, 10 or 11 years old. You have to learn to ✨play the game✨ of Figuring Out whether you are wanted or not wanted, because people won’t tell you if they like you or not.
It really is all entirely based on the central truth that people will not be honest with you about whether they want you. And i know we can’t make everything straightforward and unambiguous but instead of teaching young people to communicate with one another, we teach autistic people to play even more bizarre levels of 5D chess
I also just wish I hadnt had to internalize the idea of “crushes” as being this universal and unstoppable thing that everyone experiences, or romantic interactions as Fundamentally Different from other ones.
like there’s aromanticism and Demisexuality and all sorts of things, and people get really pissy about those ones because theyre, idk, too attached to the idea that love, romance and sexuality are…a strict binary of either fully understood and represented by “society” or completely “othered” and marginalized, I guess?
but there is a wide, wide amount of diversity in the way people experience “romantic” feelings and just the way they parse and divide up and process their different relational needs. And it hurts everyone to act like one thing is universal and “normal.” Not everyone gets crushes, and honestly it’s up to you how you think about your own emotions?
Like I remember it being such a distressing experience, to feel unable to do anything about my feelings for someone, because I had a Crush and crushes are supposed to be this uncontrollable thing. I don’t think it would have gotten to the point of unhealthy obsession if I hadn’t been like “this is normal and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”
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skyebounded · 6 days ago
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I Knew You’d Say Yes
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I Knew You’d Say Yes
Respectfully. You may not use my work, but you are welcome to share it. 💙
Summary: You’re off to college, and you’re not going without doing something first. (THIS IS UNEDITED)
Pairing: JJ Maybank x Femvirgin!Reader
Warnings: Smut (Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Oral(F) etc) Swearing! (Unedited work)
Word Count: 3.2k
A/N: Hey Lovelies, This is a little something that I thought of the other day and I’m not sure why lol, it might be bad, it might be good 😬. It is UN-edited so there is that. Love you guys, enjoy!
It isn’t like you are waiting for anything, in particular, it’s just the moment never presented itself, nor were you ever in any rush, but here you are, eighteenth years old, getting ready for college, and totally freaking out over it.
It shouldn’t be a big deal, loads of people haven’t done it, it’s normal, but it is stressing you out to be one of those people.
Normally you wouldn’t care, but ever since you had that conversation with your older sister, you’ve been reconsidering everything. You can’t go to college being a virgin, everyone will know, or so you keep telling yourself.
You know it doesn’t actually matter, but talking with your sister has you convinced that somehow it does.
It has to be done, there is no denying it, you thought.
You take a deep breath, going over the list in your head that has only three names on it. John b is the first on the list, not because you favor him, but simply because having him as your first wouldn’t necessarily be bad. He would be understanding of the situation, and would probably say yes, or so you think.
You start thinking about the aftermath of what would happen if you chose him. It would probably result in an awkward friendship, maybe even one where eventually you couldn’t even look at each other.
You remember when he and Kie kissed, and how things got weird between the two of them for a while, and you don’t want that. You value him and his friendship, and even if you feel like he would be a good candidate for your first sexual encounter, you think it’s best that he stays on the back burner.
You mentally mark him off your list, moving to the next person, Pope.
“Pope’s not bad, right?” You ask yourself.
You and Pope have a good relationship with each other. It was the kind where he could come to you with any type of girl problems, and you were more than happy to assist.
However, knowing that you were the one who had to push Pope to ask Sydney to the spring formal, which he didn’t, makes you wonder if he would have a hard time agreeing to your request.
You also begin to worry that if you do choose Pope, feelings might get involved, and by feelings you mean his, plus you are pretty sure he has a crush on Kie as well, which knocks him off the list.
You sigh, knowing who’s next on the list, JJ. JJ would be your first pick for anything, including this very strange venture, but you had put him at the bottom of the list for a few reasons.
JJ is your best friend, and with that, you fear that if you ask him, and he says yes, that things could get weird between you two. He’s the one that you most definitely can’t lose, and you're not sure if you want to even take the risk.
You know that he would most likely say yes, with no hesitation, but then what. It would be good, so there was that, and If things went well, it could open up a whole new door for your friendship, you consider.
“Ugh!” you groan.
You fall flat against your bed, covering your face with your hands cringing at yourself for the thought alone, but you were just being honest.
Knowing that JJ has experience, whereas you have had none, makes you anxious to even consider asking him.
He would probably laugh at you, but not in a bad way, plus it’s not like he would make a big deal of it. You know he wouldn’t make you feel bad about it either, and you also know deep down that out of all three of them, it has to be JJ, but that doesn’t stop the fact that you can’t help the blush that creeps to your face as you consider it.
Ultimately, JJ was the one you would feel the most comfortable with, the one who wouldn’t take a lot of convincing, and the one who wouldn’t make you feel bad about it, not that the others would but still.
“It has to be JJ,” you mutter, biting your cheek as you watch the ceiling fan rotate.
You jump from your bed, telling yourself that it has to be done, it has to be him, repeatedly in your head as you slip into a casual but form-fitting dress.
You make a sour expression as your hand hovers over the series of underwear in your drawer, to finally pick up the matching lace thong to your bra. You groan, hating that you’re even doing this, but you finish getting ready, before grabbing your things and heading out.
You stare at the front door to the château from the safety of your car, contemplating if you should still go through with it.
“Come on, don’t be a pussy,” you take a deep breath and drag yourself out of your car, nothing but sheer will pushing you to the door.
You knock quickly before you have the time to protest, bringing your shaking hands to smooth out the fabric of your dress.
The door opens, and JJ stands there, his brow raised to you. Fuck! You watch as his eyes trail the length of your body shamelessly.
“Woah, you got a hot date or something?” He grins.
Yeah, you? You awkwardly laugh, suddenly becoming unsure of what to do with yourself.
JJ moves aside, ushering you to come inside. You step inside, quickly looking around before you look at him. You note his tousled blonde locks, and can’t help as your mind starts to wonder.
“Stop it,” you mumble to yourself.
JJ looks at you, confusion riddled on his face, “I wasn’t doing anything,” he says sheepishly.
You shake your head, “sorry, I was talking to myself.”
“Oh.”
You take a deep breath, exhaling slowly. JJ starts walking to his room, and you follow trying your best to spit out what it is you need to ask him.
“Hey, so I have a question, well I mean it’s more of a favor really, but um,” you begin to rant.
“Are you okay?“ he asks, cutting you off, his brows furrowing as he watches you shift uncomfortably.
“No, I mean yes, well,” you pause, collecting your thoughts. “Okay so listen. So there’s not really any good way to ask this, but will you have sex with me?”
You purse your lips, finding it hard to meet his gaze. He looks at you skeptically, trying to figure out if you’re being serious or not.
“Like right now, or are you asking if I would?” He asks.
“Right now.” you awkwardly blurt.
He chuckles slightly, “yeah,” he shrugs. “But tell me why first?“
You let out a sigh of relief, you had successfully made it past the first obstacle, asking him.
“Okay don’t laugh, but I’ve never done it,” you pause watching the amusement dance over his face, doing his best not to smile or laugh.
“I want to do it before I leave for college, and I figured you would say yes, so..”
He begins to laugh, and you glare at him, fiddling with your hands.
“I promise I’m not laughing, It’s just-it’s cute,” he smiles, moving closer to you.
As he approaches you, hands in the air in surrender and a cheeky grin on his face, you feel your nerves building.
“So, are you telling me that you got all dressed up for me?” He teases, his eyes drinking you in.
Your building nerves and the fact that he wasn’t taking you seriously, make you want to leave.
“Never mind,” you say as you turn to leave. JJ grabs your arm, spinning you around to face him, pulling you hard against him, your hand resting against his chest as if it was going to sturdy you. JJ’s eyes fall to your lips, his face only inches away from you. You swallow hard, wetting your lips as you stare at him, unsure of what to do.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his eyes coming back to meet yours.
You can see the sincerity in them, and it makes you feel better.
“It’s okay,” you mumble.
JJ looks as though he's contemplating something deeply, and it makes you wonder.
“Do you trust me?” he asks, carefully watching your expressions, you nod, biting at your bottom lip in anticipation.
“No, I want verbal confirmation.”
“Yes, I trust you.” You say.
JJ brings his lips to yours, kissing you softly, slowly, and yet somehow with a hunger to it. His arm snakes around your waist as he pulls you closer to him and you melt into his embrace.
JJ’s tongue traces your bottom lip, and you don’t hesitate to part your lips, letting his tongue explore your mouth.
You don’t fully want to admit it because you know it shouldn’t, but it feels unbelievably good to kiss him, so much so that you feel like it was normal. The worries and nerves that plagued you moments ago seem to wash away, as you lose yourself to the kiss.
JJ leans down, picking you up with ease, as he carries you to his bed.
He lays you down against the mattress, propositioning himself between your thighs, his hands resting on either side of you, caging you in as well as holding himself up.
He pulls away from you, and your brows knit together as he stares at you. Anxiety fills you as you take your bottom lip between your teeth.
“You sure about this?” he asks with a look of concern in his eyes.
JJ would never do something that you weren’t comfortable with, and knowing that settles your nerves. You know him, trust him, and you know that you’ve made the right choice in choosing him.
“Yes, I’m sure,” you say.
He smiles, lowering himself back down for his lips to meet yours. His hands find the hem of your dress, and he slides it up your body. He pulls away from you, and you sit up helping him to pull your dress.
JJ sits back, his eyes tracing your figure.
“Aww, did you wear this just for me?”
JJ loops his fingers under the band of your panties, lightly tugging on it. You feel yourself blush at the comment, giving him a playful shove. JJ laughs, the grin on his face growing.
“I’m just admiring the view,” he grins.
You swallow hard as JJ brings his hand to cup your breast, kneading it through the lace. His lips kiss along your jaw and down your neck, nipping and sucking on the soft skin. He trails kisses down your chest, over your bra, and down your stomach.
JJ brings his hand to your inner thigh, slowly letting the pads of his fingers trace your skin. Your breath hitches at the slightest contact, as they move further up your legs. Anticipation building within you, as his fingers reach your clothed cunt, lightly tracing you through the wet fabric.
You exhale a whimper, the ache between your legs growing when he puts the slightest amount of pressure on your clit.
JJ kisses along your waistband, his fingers looping around the band of your panties. His eyes meeting yours, a primal hunger behind them.
“Are you ready?” He whispers quietly.
Your heart racing, nodding your head slowly.
“I’m ready,” you smile softly.
JJ pulls your panties down your legs, discarding them on his floor, as he presses his lips into a thin line, taking in the sight of you.
“JJ, do something. Please,” you mumble.
JJ moves his fingers slowly up your inner thighs, his fingers coming to trace your folds, you hold your breath, as soon as you feel his fingers teasing your entrance.
With his eyes fixated on you, he slips a finger into you and you gasp at the foreign feeling. Desperation and hunger for more overcomes you as he slips another finger in, moving them around inside you, stretching you out. Giving you a moment to adjust, he slowly starts pumping his fingers. A sweet coiling sensation building inside you. JJ’s gaze on you intense, as he moves himself to hover over you once more, his fingers still working as his lips come to meet yours in a hard kiss.
Soft moans trickle out of your mouth as his tongue enters your mouth, and a cry leaves your lips as he hits that spot inside you, bringing his thumb to massage your clit.
He begins to press open mouth kisses along your warm skin, down your neck, across your collar and chest.
As he works his way down your body, he pulls his fingers out of you, chucking at the confused and disappointed look on your face.
“I want to taste you, pretty girl,” he smirks.
JJ looks at you waiting for an indication of what you want, and you can’t help but blush, giving him a quick nod before he nestles himself between your thighs. He hooks your legs over his shoulders, giving you a wicked grin before you feel his tongue graces your cunt, licking a slow stripe up the length of it. You almost shriek when his tongue flicks across your clit.
“Sweeter than I imagined,” He hums.
You are far too entranced to think too much on his words, but whatever they are, they are only aiding in your arousal. JJ’s tongue dips into your entrance, pulling moans to seep out of your mouth, your fingers fisting at his hair, pulling on it every time you feel a rush of ecstasy lap over you. Listening to the low groans coming from JJ with every pull is pushing you one step closer to the relief you’re yearning for. His lips envelop your clit, as he sucks on it, bringing his fingers to pump inside you, curling every few beats.
“Fuck, JJ,” you pant, throwing your head further into the mattress, your eyes fluttering shut. It doesn’t take long for your release to find you, pleasure pulsating through your body. You clench your eyes shut, savoring the feeling, your back arching and your grip tightening. With one final flick of his tongue, he pulls away from you, his fingers still pushing you through your orgasm.
“You look good like this.” He watches you intently, a smug smile on his face when he sees the subtlest blush bloom in your face.
as your body goes limp, JJ removes his fingers from you, allowing you to collect yourself. He slips out of his shirt and you can’t help but watch him, admiring his lean body. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as he strips down to his boxers, his cock visibly erect.
“You ready?”
You sit up, your body only inches away from him, reaching around to unclasp your bra and throw it to the side. JJ’s eyes widen at the sight of your breasts, a smile growing on his lips as his eyes close, taking a heavy breath.
You lean up to him, threading your fingers through his hair as you pull him down to you.
“I want this,” you smile.
JJ’s lips find yours, his tongue tangling with your own, pushing you back against the mattress. One hand being used to prop himself up, while the other takes to roaming your body, his touching cool against your burning skin. His hand quickly finds your breast, kneading it, his index finger and thumb rolling your nipple.
The feeling alone makes your core throb with need. Your hands roam his body, stopping just above his boxers. Nerves start to bubble, but you push them away, allowing yourself to completely indulge in the moment. Your small hand reaches JJs cock, palm him through the fabric.
He bites your bottom lip, groaning at the contact. You can’t help but smile at his response, wanting more from him. You help him out of his boxers and the sight of him makes your breath hitch. You never expected to be in a situation when you would see him like this, but you were enjoying it, a little too much.
JJ’s mouth is back on you in seconds, placing sloppy kisses across your skin. He lines himself up with your entrance, watching you closely as he slowly pushes into you. Your breath hitches and your eyes clench shut at the foreign feeling. He stops, letting you adjust, before you nod for him to keep going.
JJ’s head rests against yours, kissing your face as a distraction from the discomfort.
“You’re doing so good.”
He gives you a moment to adjust to the entirety of him, placing a kiss on your nose.
“You okay?”
You nod, taking a breath.
“You can-you can move now,” you say.
JJ smiles at you. He presses his lips to yours in a softer kiss, as he slowly thrusts into you. Pleasure and pain both sink in. The slow rock of his hips wasn’t satisfying your need, it was almost taunting.
“Faster, JJ,” you mumble and he obliges.
He finds a steady rhythm, thrusting into you deeper, and faster. He hits your sweet spot, causing your walls to flutter around him, a low groan escaping him. You bring your hips to meet his thrusts, letting out a moan every time he hits just right.
The coiling sensation forming in your abdomen, like a knot, making you writhe under him begging for release.
“Does that feel good, pretty girl?” He teases.
Of course! You’re too lost in the feeling of it all to really respond, all you give him is a sting of whimpers and a nod. You feel yourself reaching the peak, needing only a little more stimulation to push you over the edge.
As if he can read your mind, JJ’s thumb comes to rub circles into your clit, drawing a whine from you. Your hips do their best to follow the movements. He leans down to kiss the skin of your breast, sucking on it.
“JJ I’m gonna-“ you start, and he picks up the pace, as he leans down to your ear.
“C’mon cupcake, cum for me,” he whispers, nipping you ear for good measure.
Your climax hits you, blinding you as waves of pleasure overcome you. You let out a cry, gripping onto his arm, your nails digging into him. JJ thrusts a few times more before he follows behind you, spilling into you as a string of curses tumble from his lips. You close your eyes relishing in the euphoric feeling of it all.
JJ pulls himself out of you, plopping down on the bed. You both struggle to steady your breaths, as you lay there. Without thought you roll over to him, allowing his arm to pull you into him, your hand coming to rest on his chest while your fingers tangle in the shark's tooth around his neck.
After a moment of silence he turns to look at you through lidded eyes.
“Thank you, JJ,” you mutter.
You suddenly find yourself trying to avoid his gaze, but you catch it. A soft grin on his lips as he looks you over.
“Anytime, cupcake. And just so we’re clear, I would do it again if you ever need it,” he winks.
307 notes · View notes
adoringhaikyuu · 8 months ago
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when their teammate has a crush on you
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characters: kageyama, kenma, oikawa, tanaka
warnings: nothing, just some pouty boys and possessiveness
notes: i stumbled upon @kageyuji​‘s take on this while i was writing! so i thought i might as well give them a shoutout! 
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kageyama:
you already know this boy speaks up with no shame
and he will glare at anyone who gets in his way or on his nerves, especially when they do anything to you
so when hinata doesn’t even try to hide that he likes you, saying boldly “well why should i lie?” 
you could only imagine the rage that kageyama is feeling
he doesn’t even want you in the same room as hinata sjkdfghsdj
he will pick either you or hinata up and take you away, depending on the situation
or he’ll take hinata’s face in his hand and just throw him away
but the boy always bounces right back, somehow unharmed and you’re grateful for that 
but anyway it’s not that hinata is necessarily trying to break the two of you up, it’s more that he’s genuinely confused as to why you’re with kageyama
“how could you possibly like this bully? is there something wrong with you?” 
he got chased by kageyama immediately after saying that––
your eyes widened as you saw a flash of orange jump in front of you as you walked towards the gym, ready to meet kageyama to go home. “y/n! y/n! could you please throw some balls for us?! yachi had to go home but we really wanna practice some more!” 
you stepped back and your boyfriend came out of nowhere, practically smacking the other boy out of the air, leaving him to crouch on the ground, clutching the top of his head as he scowled at the dark-haired boy. “calm down you idiot! y/n doesn’t have to if they don’t want to! they’re probably tired anyway and just wanna go home.” he turned to you and gave you a small smile. “you wanna go?” 
you looked between the two. “i mean...i can help you guys practice for a little bit.”
the other boy sprung up again. “oh! thank you! thank you!” 
your boyfriend bowed his head quickly. “thank you.”
you smiled up at him and he felt his cheeks redden. “of course, tobio.” a smile spread on his face as well but it was short-lived as hinata spoke up, suddenly inches away from the two of you. 
“what’s up with your face? why do you look like that?” 
kageyama scowled down at him. “nothing’s wrong with my face! what’s wrong with your face?!” 
“why are you yelling at me?!” hinata turned to you, “he’s so mean! how are you with him?” he looked down and mumbled to himself, “i wouldn’t treat you like this...”
kageyama’s eyes widened with rage. “what was that?!” 
“n––nothing!” the smaller boy backed up, eyes wide with fear. 
“you know what? we’re leaving.” kageyama stormed into the gym and quickly got his things, ignoring hinata’s pleas.
“aw what? why?! come on kageyama!” he turned to you, “y/n please––”
suddenly you were facing your boyfriend’s back as he stood in front of you to glare at the other boy. “don’t even think about it. we’re done for today.” he turned to you and grabbed your hand, tightening his hold when you waved goodbye to a pouting hinata. 
when you were almost off the premises you looked up at kageyama. “you know you’re kinda hot when you’re jealous,” you smirked up at him and he stuttered in shock.
“what–i–you––”
you laughed and kissed the back of his hand softly, immediately giving him a nosebleed. you handed him a tissue which he gratefully took, glaring at you weakly. 
“you know i’m yours, right?” 
he swallowed and blinked a couple times before nodding once. 
“then you have nothing to worry about, okay?”
he started muttering to himself, the only words you could make out being “idiot” and “dumbass”. you placed your hands on his cheeks and he stopped and looked down at you, eyes wide. 
“okay, tobio?”
he nodded. “okay.” he paused. “but that doesn’t mean i’m going to be nicer to that idiot––”
you laughed. “yeah baby, i know.” 
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kenma:
let’s say you’d been dating kenma for a while now, a little lowkey 
and everything is fine, everything is going really well
kenma likes it when you hang around the team, the team likes you
you’re like a part of the squad
and kenma’s feeling great about it 
until lev comes along––
kenma already doesn’t like this boy, he doesn’t even know how to hit a ball properly––
but when kenma notices the way the tall boy blatantly stares at you during practice, the way he always tries to butt into your conversations and show off to you...
kenma’s practically radiating angry chihuahua energy, the air around him red and he looks like he’s two seconds away from biting––
if lev interrupts your convo w him sometimes he’d just stare at the boy deadpanned and go back to his conversation with you, “anyway–”
or he’d take your hand and lead you away
or he’d literally just say “go away, lev.” and the poor boy would just pout and whine, “aww what? why?” 
one time lev tried to tag along on one of your dates and you had to step in front of kenma so he wouldn’t kick the boy in the shins or something
lev really wasn’t trying to do any harm, he was just a big lanky puppy who had a little crush on you
but still, kenma wasn’t having any of that
kuroo leaned on the wall next to where kenma was leaning against it, sipping his water during their ten minute break. he smirked down at his friend teasingly, “so what are you gonna do about your new competition?”
kenma wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, putting the bottle on the floor as he practically snarled. “shut up.”
“woah,” kuroo smiled, raising his hands up in mock surrender. “put your claws away, man. i’m just asking.” 
kenma simply grumbled in response, making his friend laugh.
“well you should think fast cause it looks like he’s getting real close to y/n right now––”
kenma’s head snapped up immediately and his jaw clenched when he took in the sight across the gym. lev was lying on the bench, practically half his body folded, his legs bent on the ground, his head on your lap, his eyes closed. 
kenma huffed and stomped over to you two, some of his other teammates jumping out of his way when they felt the almost deadly aura around him. he stopped right in front of you and you looked up at him.
he blinked. “why is lev on you?”
you shrugged, “he said his head was hurting and then just plopped his head in my lap.”
said boy finally opened his eyes and perked up, “oh hi kenma! my head’s been hurting from all this hard practice so i thought i’d rest a bit.”
your boyfriend’s eye twitched. “on y/n?” 
“yeah!” the boy smiled, somehow completely oblivious to the setter’s rage. “they’re real soft, you know––”
“yes.” kenma interrupted, blunt as ever. “i know.” 
noticing the increasing tension, you spoke up. “hey lev?” he looked at you happily. “your head’s feeling better now, right?” 
“well i guess so...”
“maybe you should go get some water and some fresh air then, yeah?”
he pouted, “but maybe i should stay for just a little longer–” kenma was about to pop a blood vessel. 
“trust me,” you guided him up gently. “this is what’s best for your health.”
as soon as he agreed and walked away from you, you looked up at your boyfriend with a smile on your face and pat your thighs. he eagerly took lev’s place and looked up at you with a furrow in his brows that you were quick to smooth out with your thumb, smiling when he visibly melted at your touch. you ran your fingers through his scalp to calm him down and he purred, leaning into your hands. 
“stupid lev...” he mumbled to himself and you laughed, leaning down to kiss his forehead, making him blush immediately.
“you have nothing to worry about, okay? i’m yours.”
he blinked, trying to calm his heartbeat, a small smile on his face. “good.” 
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oikawa:
alright let’s switch things up a lil bit and mention someone i’ve personally like never seen mentioned in this scenario
let’s say mad dog likes you
oh boy
so at first oikawa thinks he’s seeing things
but once he notices how kyoutani opens the door for you, the way his eyes linger on you a little more when you come to practices or to the games, the way he gives you a small smile every now and then––
kyoutani doesn’t smile for anybody!!––
oikawa’s eyes narrow and he gets a bad feeling in his gut 
otherwise known as jealousy
now he knows you’d never leave him or anything like that, but the fact that you start getting closer to the walking time bomb and you become the only other person that he listens to besides iwaizumi––
oikawa doesn’t like that at all
he’d get all pouty and would literally drag you away from your conversations with the younger boy, almost whimpering when he glares and practically growls at him
“where is y/n-chan??” oikawa asked to no one in particular, his hands on his hips. 
kindaichi stopped and picked up one of the stray balls on the floor, “oh i saw y/n outside with kyoutani.”
“what?!” oikawa pracitcally shrieked, making the younger boy jump. he mumbled to himself, “i swear we need to get mad dog a collar with bells on it––” he stomped over to where the two of you were, a strained smile on his face as he noticed you laughing, kyoutani’s cheeks slightly pink.
“well what do we have here?” he said forceful but cheerful. 
you looked to your boyfriend with a smile and kyoutani simply glared at him, but then again, that was just his face. “oh we were just getting some fresh air. are you done practicing your serves?”
“i sure am.” he smiled, pulling you close to him by your waist and pressing an obnoxiously loud and wet kiss to your cheek which you immediately wiped off with a grimace, which he did not appreciate. “y/n-chan!” he whined, “that’s not very nice!” 
“well don’t make it so wet next time,” you rolled your eyes. 
noticing the other boy still hadn’t made a move to leave, your boyfriend spoke up. “shouldn’t you be leaving now, mad dog?”
you smacked his chest and he yelped. “don’t be so rude, tooru. he was keeping me company while you did your extra practice, you know.”  
he pouted and looked to the ground.
“i should be getting home, anyway.” the blond spoke up gruffly. his eyes softened almost imperceptibly as he looked at you. “see you, y/n.”
you smiled, “bye kyou.” 
“bye mad-dog!” your boyfriend practically sang, as he looked over his shoulder at the boy leaving. he turned back to you and you pursed your lips at his behavior, making his shoulders droop in shame. 
“you’re such a big baby, you know that?” although you insulted him, your voice was soft and he couldn’t help but smile at the way you cooed at him, your hands holding his cheeks. “but you’re my baby, okay? stop worrying so much about kyoutani.” 
he nodded. “okay...” his eyes widened hopefully, “can i get a kiss please?”
you smiled and shook your head, before leaning in. he really was a baby sometimes.  
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tanaka:
you already know this boy is loud
and he likes to show off what’s his because he’s just so proud that you’re his and he loves to fawn over you
so he’ll always have a hand on you, an arm around you and he’ll always shower you in compliments whenever he sees you
a total simp
and that’s just in general
so when his friend likes you ??? bruh
let’s just say nishinoya thinks you’re kinda cute,,, okay really cute and his crush only (unwillingly) grew for you after you started dating tanaka and hanging out with them all the time
he’d be really excited whenever you were around, a pink tint covering his cheeks, a smile glued to his face
he’d try to show off during practice and games, looking to you after he lands a successful rolling thunder
and tanaka would be growling in the corner sdfghj
he’d literally try to one up his friend immediately and would scream to you in the stands “I LOVE YOU BABY THIS ONE IS FOR YOU!!”
after they win he’d pull you into a crushing hug and give you loud kisses all over your face 
he’d do the most and then he’d smile all smug making sure everyone including nishinoya saw 
you laughed as noya jumped several feet in the air to high five you after winning their game, a bright smile on his face. “did you see that last receive i did y/n? did you?” 
you nodded, laughing. “yes i did noya, it was really impressive.” 
his cheeks turned pink and he ducked his head, scratching the back of his head nervously as he waved you off. “ah it wasn’t all that...it was pretty good though, huh?” 
before you could respond, you saw a flash of movement in front of you before you were suddenly being hoisted into the air. you gasped and wrapped your arms and legs around your boyfriend, “ryu!––” 
“hey baby!” he practically yelled, smiling up at you and not so subtly walking away from his best friend with you in his arms. “did you see me hit that last spike? your man looked pretty good out there, huh? better than everyone else right?” 
daichi who was walking by the two of you quickly hit the back of tanaka’s head in warning, hearing his words. “watch it––”
tanaka turned his head, “uh i mean you looked great too captain! couldn’t have done this without you––”
“yeah yeah,” he walked away, rolling his eyes and you laughed yet again, grabbing your boyfriend’s attention. 
he looked up at you with wide eyes, squeezing his arms around you tighter and you smiled, putting your hand on his cheek. he nuzzled into your touch softly and you pressed a kiss to his lips, making him blush immediately. “of course i was watching you, and yes you looked very very good out there. i’m so proud of you.” 
he smiled wide but tried to act oblivious when you went on, “you know you kinda interrupted my conversation earlier with––”
“well anyway! i think we should get going now--” he spoke far too loud, walking faster from the gym, making you shake your head at his adorably possessive behavior. 
you leaned your head on his shoulder fondly, “you know you can be ridiculous sometimes ryu...”
he huffed quietly, “well you still love me right?”
you smiled. “always.” 
2K notes · View notes
malfoysstilinski · 8 months ago
Note
Can you a Draco Smut where he gets bored and literally just decides to make out with and suck your clit slowly like lazily and teases you into an orgasm?
bored | draco malfoy smut 18+
draco malfoy x fem!reader
summary: draco’s bored so he decides to eat you out
warnings: 18+, smut, oral (female receiving), degradation?, really cute boyfriend!draco
word count: 2.1k
For some reason, lessons today felt like they had dragged on for far too long. Snape’s monotone voice had only drowned you deeper into a pit of boredom from where you sat at the back of his DADA lesson during the last period of the day, hoping that time would just speed up so you could spend your Friday evening with your boyfriend.
And finally the time came where Snape eventually dismissed the class, but not without a pile of homework and a stern message about the N.E.W.T exams quickly approaching. You didn’t even want to think about any of that right now; N.E.W.T level DADA would be the death of you, you were sure of that much.
“Come on pretty girl,” Draco whispered, his arm tucking around your shoulders, your head leaning on his shoulder slightly as you left the classroom. “You can nap in my room, or read - whatever you want.”
You smiled at that - you loved Draco’s room. He was a prefect, not to mention a Malfoy, so he got special privileges; one of them being a room all to himself. His double bed was far comfier than the single you had in your dormitory, which was where you found yourself five minutes later.
Your robe had been ditched; chucked somewhere onto the floor before Draco could even enter the room. You collapsed onto his bed, lying horizontally across the bottom half and staring up at the ceiling as you heard a huff come from Draco. You craned your head in time to see him swipe your uniform off the floor.
Draco didn’t even bother to scold you anymore - no matter how many times he said it, you always forgot his ‘nothing but feet on the floor’ policy. It sort of surprised you when you found out how tidy he was — much more organised than you, who couldn’t even be bothered to take your shoes off.
You wiggled your legs which were dangling off the end of the mattress and Draco rolled his eyes, finishing folding your robe and placing it on the back of his desk chair before moving over to your feet. His hand grabbed the back of your heel and he began to undo the laces of your school shoes, staring at you in amusement.
“You have me running around like a House-Elf for you,” he huffed.
You grinned up at him, lifting your head so you could see him properly. “I know,” you chirped.
Draco finally got both your shoes off, your toes wiggling in your tights as they thanked you for finally releasing them from their tight confidements. You watched your blond boyfriend move around the room to place your shoes neatly by the door before he peeled his robes and shoes off too, putting them away also tidily.
“You’re lucky you’re pretty, darling,” Draco muttered, shooting you a look as he climbed onto his bed, his back against the headboard as he grabbed his book off of the bedside table. “You gonna sleep?”
“No, just lay here,” you murmured back, your fingers fiddling with the detail of his silk bed covers. “I just want to… reflect on my day.”
“Oh, that meditation thing you’ve been doing?” Draco hummed, not lifting his eyes from his book as he stretched his legs out, them resting by your head from where you were curled up at the bottom of his bed.
“Reflecting is not necessarily meditating, Draco,” you reminded him for the hundredth time. “Just because you have no thoughts whatsoever.”
“I have no thoughts?” Draco glanced over, raising his eyebrows at you.
You giggled. “Yeah - I bet it’s just lift music in your head.”
“Lift music?” Draco repeated, confused.
Your eyes lit up - another fact you could give him. You loved how confused he looked whenever you told him about the other world he had grown up despising. You adored the way he asked questions and pretended not to be interested sometimes.
“A lift is a Muggle invention. It’s a metal box thing that replaces stairs sometimes; you get in, press which floor you want and it takes you up or down,” you explained to him, “And there is music inside it sometimes. And it’s really slow and…” You noticed the weird look on Draco’s face, your voice fading away. “Never mind.”
“I don’t get it,” Draco hummed before turning back to his book.
It made you giggle and shake your head. You closed your eyes soon after, just thinking. About Draco, about the homework Snape had set you, the Hogsmeade trip you planned to go on with Pansy next weekend…
You can feel his eyes on you.
Your own peel open and you turn to face him. “What?”
“My book’s shit,” he admitted.
“You’re halfway through it.”
“Yeah, and it’s shit.”
You frowned, your eyes moving from his face to the cover of said shit book. “I recommended that to you,” you pouted slightly.
“Which is why, as you can see, I’ve tried to like it - but I can’t,” Draco said, placing the book back down onto the bedside table. “It’s boring. And I’m bored.”
“How?” You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Classes literally ended twenty minutes ago max.”
Draco shot you a look. “So? I’m still bored.”
“Too bad, I’m -”
“You’re meditating, I know.”
“It’s not - Ugh, whatever. Yes, I’m meditating, so leave me alone,” you replied, rolling your eyes before closing them yet again.
There was more silence. Draco seemed to respect your wishes, not saying another word. All you could feel was the silk sheets beneath your body, all you could smell was Draco’s scent and the fresh fragrance of his bed covers, and all you could hear was the sound of your breathing and Draco’s - as well as the sound of him adjusting himself on the bed a little bit.
You wished you could stay like this forever. After the long day you’d just had, this was the perfect way to end it. Maybe some cuddles from Draco would make it better, but that could come a bit later, maybe after dinner.
Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt a weight above your legs. Your eyes cracked open and you glanced down, your brows furrowing at Draco. He wasn’t even looking at your face, he didn’t say a word, but he reached for your skirt and flipped it above your stomach, pulling your tights and panties down in one go.
“Draco -” You were cut off by his cold finger sliding up through your folds.
“Shh,” Draco muttered, still not even glancing at you, too focused on what was between your legs. “Go back to your meditating. I’m just… entertaining myself.”
You couldn’t complain with that. You found yourself complying, your head tilting back so you were facing the ceiling, your eyes closing. You weren’t really wet, much to Draco’s dismay, but you soon felt him spitting on your clit and felt it drip down your folds. His fingers slid it around, knocking purposefully at your bundle of nerves and causing arousal to spike through you.
When you felt yourself begin to get wet, your clit throbbing beneath his lazy, aimless touch, you couldn’t help but open your eyes, glancing down at him. He wasn’t even sitting between your legs - just beside you, his hand reaching for your cunt like he was half-heartedly playing some sort of game.
Draco’s silver eyes were entranced by your cunt, his fingers experimenting as they changed direction, moved about, all so agonisingly slow. After a minute of the torturous pace, his eyes flickered up to you and he lifted his hand towards your face.
“Wanna taste?” He asked as if he was talking about sharing food.
You opened your mouth anyway, two of Draco’s fingers slipping inside. You sucked around his digits, your tongue being invaded by your own taste - a taste that Draco insisted he could never get enough of. He pulled his hand away when you were done, looking back down at your cunt and beginning to rub again.
“Draco,” you whispered desperately as he hit the right place.
He glanced back up at you, smirking a little. “Does it feel good?” He murmured, voice deep and barely above a whisper.
“Mhm,” you mumbled back, eyes clenching shut again.
His mouth touching your cunt nearly made you jump. Everything about what he was doing was so lazy, as if he had all the time in the world and he wasn’t there to make you cum but to just satisfy his own boredom and curiosity. Maybe that was the only reason he was touching you like this, but either way, you liked it. You liked the teasing nature of the whole thing, even though it was tortuous how slowly his tongue came out to lick up your folds.
Everything inside you wanted to wither and grab at his hair and tug, begging him to go faster, but you refrained; your hands remained gripping the sheets beside you, your small whimpers that made Draco’s cock hard filling his bedroom.
His mouth was wet, a mixture of his own spit and your arousal, as it wrapped around your bundle of nerves, your back nearly arching as he began to suck softly. Your breath hitched, not used to the aimlessness of it all. It almost felt careless, but his hand on your thigh said otherwise as his thumb stroked circles against your skin.
Your lips pursed together, a moan threatening to leave your mouth as Draco sucked, his aristocratic-like lips working idly. His tongue peeked to swipe across you and this time your stomach clenched, your legs nearly clamping around his head. But Draco’s grip on your thigh tightened a bit in warning.
“Draco, please…” You whimpered, one hand going down to gently grasp at his platinum locks.
His head pulled away with your hand still in his hair, much to your dismay. He leaned his head against your thigh, staring down at your dripping cunt. His finger moved towards it and he circled your swollen clit, feeling your legs tremble slightly beneath him. Then his thumb came out and he rubbed it in small figure of eights, his breath still fanning you from where he used your thigh as a pillow.
“So pretty…” Draco muttered.
You swore if he didn’t start acting like his usual rough self then you were going to start crying. It was agonising, the way he seemed to not care. In a way, it felt degrading - like this was for him and not for you, and it only made you soak his fingers even further.
Draco’s mouth dived back in for your clit. It was like he was making out with it, his lips capturing it and sucking, his teeth grazing it slightly just to hear your small hisses and loud whimpers. His nose nuzzled against your mound, his hands still on your thighs.
When you looked down, all you could see was the slow bobbing of his head. His tongue was unmatched, skillful and taunting, slow and painful, and you would do anything to cum right now. Anything.
You could feel the tightening sensation in your stomach, your brain growing fuzzier and fuzzier as you acted with your hormones rather than your brain. Your hand gripped his hair tighter, your hips rolling for more, faster friction. You half-expected Draco to pull away from you and warn you to keep still, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“I’m gonna cum,” you admitted breathlessly.
Draco hummed against you, the vibrations making you cry out a little. You lifted your head back up to look down at him, finding his eyes already concentrated on you as he sucked your clit, rolling the knot between his tongue gently. You moaned loudly.
“Fuck, I’m cumming,” you hissed quickly before your orgasm washed over you.
Draco helped you ride it out, his tongue lapping up every wave of arousal, his hands still brushing your thighs comfortingly. He even groaned around your clit, encouraging you as you rolled your hips, your legs trembling even harder. His name slipped past your lips several times as well as some curses, before you were left breathing heavily on the mattress.
A whine left you when Draco didn’t stop kissing your cunt. “Draco…” You jerked beneath him slightly. “I’m sensitive.”
“I’m bored,” he murmured back as he pulled away, his fingers working at your clit and making you yell out in a mixture of pain and pleasure.
You knew for certain now; this was never about pleasing you, it was always about satisfying himself - and you knew you weren’t going to be let off the hook anytime soon.
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2K notes · View notes
ptersparkers · 6 days ago
Text
quintessential ravenclaw
summary: there’s not much that you, a ravenclaw who happens to be friends with the golden trio, know about draco malfoy. but one project changes the trajectory of everything you thought you knew about it. 
notes: idk why i’m writing for draco honestly and i know the gif looks like a white girl but in my head i wrote her poc bc i am a poc bye!!!! i just liked the library and how cool the gif is. also in my head everyone here is like, in college despite me writing this in hogwarts. ok bye have fun reading, my loves.
warnings: typos, probably.
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The last place Draco wanted to be was at the Great Hall, sitting next to his loud friends on a Thursday afternoon. 
Rather, he wanted to bring a plate of food up to his dormitory and eat in silence. Pansy was speaking too loudly for his liking, Theo was entertaining her, and Blaise was offering no form of help. With all of the commotion happening around him, Draco felt sequestered in his spot despite being unable to leave. 
You, on the other hand, were talking to Harry, Ron, and Hermione across the hall from Draco when you saw his chin rest in the palm of his hand. 
“Do you think Draco’s doing okay?” you asked out of the blue. The conversation halted and Ron looked at you as if you had grown a second head. 
“Are you mad, Y/N?” he asked. You shrugged. “Why do you care about how Malfoy’s doing?” 
“No real reason,” you replied. “I’ve just noticed he’s been a bit of a downer lately.”
“He’s always down,” Harry reminded. 
“I suppose that’s true. But I don’t know. We have nearly half of our classes together and he’s barely holding it together.” 
“And how can you tell, miss know-it-all?” Ron asked. 
“He hasn’t been exceptionally rude to either of you in two weeks.” 
Harry dwelled on the thought and came to the realization that you were right. Draco hadn’t spared him a glance in the past two weeks and he’d known something was off but wasn’t sure until you were able to point it out to him. 
“I don’t want to ‘fix’ him, Ronald,” you scolded, bringing Harry back to attention. 
“I'm just saying,” he replied, raising his hands in surrender. “You can’t fix what’s broken.”
“Y/N simply means she wants to inquire about why he’s so sullen lately,” said Hermione. “Even though I don’t necessarily agree that you should do it.”
“For Christ’s sake,” you said, groaning with your head in your hands. “I don’t mean to walk over there and ask him if he’s okay. It was just an observation.”
“You are a Ravenclaw,” Harry reminded.
“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, lifting your head to bite into a piece of toast. 
“You can be a bit naive about Slytherins,” Harry said. “They’re not all bad but you’ve definitely not been on the receiving end of Malfoy and his friends’ torment.” 
“Harry!” Hermione said, swatting his forearm.
“What’d you do that for?”
“You boys are insufferable,” she grunted, sitting back in her seat. Hermione turned to you and put a hand on your shoulder. “What Harry means to say is you haven’t dealt with Draco for as long as we have, considering we only became friends earlier this year. We don’t mean to stop you from talking to him, but you need to be careful.”
“I don’t know what makes you guys think I’m going to talk to him,” you said with a chuckle. “Thanks Hermione, but I don’t think that’s going to happen any time soon. I’m just concerned from a distance.” 
“Well, whatever has Malfoy down,” Ron began, “I hope it keeps him preoccupied so he can forget about us.”
“Right,” Harry agreed. “Thinking about him on top of trying to study for exams is gonna kill me.” 
“We can study together,” you promised him. “Now let’s stop with all this Malfoy talk and finish breakfast, yeah?”
When you parted ways with your friends in favor of finishing an assignment at the library, the last thing you expected was for Theodore Nott to tap your shoulder. 
“Goodness,” you squealed, clutching your chest. Theo laughed. 
“Sorry to scare you,” he said. “Though, I thought I might find you here.”
“Please don’t startle me again,” you huffed, watching as he sat next to you. “What can I do for you, Theo?” 
 “Would you mind helping me with our potions project when classes are over? You’re the best in the class and even I’m not over admitting I need a little help.” 
You looked at him with a kind smile. Theo had always been the nicest out of Draco’s friend group, and you’d go so far as to call him a casual acquaintance. 
“Sure, it’s not a problem,” you replied. 
“Thank you so much,” he sighed out of relief. “You’re my actual saving grace. Draco’s fairly good at it but he seems preoccupied lately.” 
You wanted to ask about him but thought it best not to.
“See you later, Y/N!” 
It was nearly six in the evening when you entered the library, as Theo had told you. Eager to help Theo with his project, you ate a quick dinner and said goodbye to your friends. You didn’t need to walk far to hear hushed voices speaking around a circular table. 
“Shut up, Pansy,” you heard Draco say. “We’re in a library.”
“Shove off, Draco,” Pansy sighed. “You’ve been a real git lately.” 
“When am I not?” Draco snapped back. Pansy sat there quietly. 
“Um,” you interjected. Theo looked up from his book. “I can come back if you’d like?”
“No need,” he said, pulling out the chair next to him. “They’re just Draco and Pansy as per usual.” His comment made Draco roll his eyes and his gaze traveled to where you stood. 
In your years of attending Hogwarts, you’d flown under Draco’s radar until you became friends with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. You never had a reason to speak with him; until this year, you’d seldom shared classes with him or had any friends that ran in the same circle as he did. There was no real reason for you to make your presence known and though you disliked the way he treated your friends once you were welcomed into their group, you were all adults. There was no reason to act like children. 
Yet you stood in front of Draco and he looked at you like he’d been tormenting you since your first year. 
“Well, are you going to stand there?” Draco said to you. 
You raised your eyebrow at his tone and looked at him for a mere second, as if you were giving a thought to his question, before setting your book bag beside the empty seat and occupying it. Theo rolled his eyes and did his best to ignore his friends talking around him. 
You, on the other hand, were doing your best to help Theo, but your mind wandered to the blond sitting across from you. You could feel his eyes staring directly into your frame and you thought how ironic it was for Theo to have had you sit with his group of friends after telling Harry you wanted nothing to do with talking to Draco. It was almost comical how you’d found your way sitting amongst a group of Slytherins after having confidently said you wanted no part in befriending the ones who associated with Draco. 
You were brought back to attention when Theo knocked your shoulder with his arm in excitement. 
“You’re really smart,” he complimented. “Thanks for helping me, Y/N.”
“It’s no problem, really,” you said with a polite smile. “I find potions to be quite entertaining.” 
“Of course you would,” Draco said. 
“Do you have a problem with me?” you asked earnestly. 
Draco took a moment to think of a response. 
“I’m trying to figure that out.” 
You left the library as fast as you could. 
+++
You found it almost hysterical when you were partnered with Draco for a research essay that was due in three weeks. 
You’d spent the night in your room, wondering why the universe had put you in Draco’s path after you had explicitly told your friends you were a curious bystander to Draco’s sudden lack of wrath. Now, not only did you have to spend your class time sitting next to him as his partner, you had to spend the next three weeks with him. 
The research essay was a significant portion of your grade and you were worried about how to approach him. Were you willing to do all of the research if he was unwilling to? How would you go about asking him to study? Would he want to get a head start like you did to avoid procrastination? 
“Y/N,” Draco said, ceasing your thoughts. You looked to your left and saw him look at you quizzically. “I asked if you wanted to start researching tonight.”
“Oh,” you replied, clearing your throat. “Actually, yeah. I want to get a head start.”
“Good. I want to get this essay done as soon as possible,” Draco said, closing his book. You watched as he put it in his book bag and followed suit, drowning out the sound of creaking chairs from the students leaving the classroom. 
“I’ll be in the library at seven,” he said, pointing at you. 
He left the classroom without a word and you sighed, hoping the next three weeks would pass by like flying colors. 
When dinnertime approached, you had said hello to your housemates and ate with them for a portion of your meal before joining the Gryffindors for dessert. 
“You know, you’re gonna get in trouble by sitting with us one of these days,” Ron said, his mouth full of cake.
“I’m pretty sure you guys have saved this school plenty for this one rule to slip by their radar,” you replied. 
“So you and Malfoy,” Harry began. 
“Don’t remind me,” you said. “I don’t even know how to talk to the bloke without thinking he’s gonna bite my head off.” 
“Can’t help you there,” Ron said with a shrug. 
“We’re meeting in thirty minutes to work on the essay,” you announced. “At least I know he’s gonna work on his part.” 
“Jeez,” said Ron, “you’ve got your work cut out for you. 
“Tell me about it,” you said, rolling your eyes. 
When seven approached, you found yourself walking through the library’s door in search of Draco. His belongings were on an empty desk while he was searching through the bookshelves, unaware of your presence until you put your book bag on the seat next to him. 
“You’re late,” he said. 
“I have two minutes,” you said, rolling your eyes. He looked at the lock and without a beat, scoffed at your correction. “Quintessential Ravenclaw, aren’t you?” 
“I’m not doing the essay by myself, if that’s what you’re hinting at,” you replied with a frown. 
“No, that’s not what I was trying to say,” Draco said, shaking his head. “Never mind. Let’s find a topic and get this essay over with.”
An hour passed by with relative success. You’d divided the work as evenly as possible and watched as Draco kept mostly to himself if he wasn’t asking for your academic opinion. He looked less put together up close than he did from your seat at the Gryffindor table. Draco’s eyes looked perpetually tired and his shoulder looked as if it carried the weight of the world without rest. 
“What are you looking at?” Draco said, turning from the bookshelf to where you stood. 
You closed your book. “Nothing. Just reading is all.”
“I can feel you looking at me.”
“I’m not,” you lied. “Do you have a problem with me, or something?” 
“Considering you’re friends with Potter, yes,” he scoffed. 
“You don’t even know me,” you said. 
“I don’t need to. There’s no reason for me to get to know you if you get along with Potter and his friends.” 
You frowned. “I’m not even in Gryffindor.” 
“Like I said,” Draco said, closing the book and walking past you to the shelf behind you. “I don’t need to get to know you.” 
“I suppose,” you said, ignoring his harsh comment. 
By the next time you and Draco were in the library, you had promised yourself that you’d ignore his presence and work as diligently as you could. Hermione had suggested trying to make nice with him, but you were reluctant to open your mouth unless it was absolutely necessary. 
However, Draco was staring so intently at the parchment in front of him and you desperately wanted to ask him how you wanted to structure the essay. But his penetrative stare and your inherent anxiety about talking to strangers kept you from speaking up. 
“Well?” Draco taunted. “What is it? You’ve been staring at me for the past five minutes.” 
“This project would go by a lot faster if you bothered to acknowledge me,” you retorted, sitting back in your seat. 
“This is an essay, not a personality test,” Draco muttered. 
“Come on,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You’re going to spend the next three weeks with me. Might as well try to like each other.” 
Draco looked at your blue robes and considered your offer. You were the first person who was friends with Harry that Draco bothered to speak for more than a minute. While he wasn’t in the business of making friends, he couldn’t deny that he wanted to know that you’d finish your essay with pride, even if you were in Ravenclaw. 
“Get to know each other?” Draco scoffed. “What are we, twelve?”
“I’m being serious,” you replied. “You obviously have a problem with me but you don’t even know me like you think I do. This project will go by faster if we get along.” 
“And what if we don’t get along?” he questioned, taking a step towards you. 
“Then we go back to whatever the hell we’re doing now.” 
Draco should’ve walked away when you proposed the idea of getting to trust one another. He wanted nothing more than to complete the project sooner than later in order to forget that he was partnered with you, yet he found it difficult to disagree with your idea. Draco stood and fixed his posture as he looked into your eyes, wondering if there was an ulterior motive for your actions. 
“Fine,” he agreed. “We can get to know each other and whatnot. Meet me in the Astronomy Tower tonight at nine. Don’t be late.” 
The hallways were quiet apart from the soft echoes of your shoes. You donned a sweater and sweatpants, and felt extremely out of place because you had never worn regular clothing in the hallways. The weather was exceptionally cold, even in your layers, and you dashed for the Astronomy Tower to avoid being late and to avoid freezing in the cold. 
Your hair was still damp from your shower twenty minutes prior and your hands were near freezing. You cursed, wishing you’d brought your gloves with you instead of leaving them by your bedside. The tower was still in the night with the sound of chirping in the distance and you hid your hands in the sleeves of your sweater. You looked at the ground below as you waited for Draco, who called your name as you peered over the edge. 
You yelped and tripped over a pebble on the ground, grabbing the edge of the tower to steady yourself. Draco instantaneously lurched forward and gripped your arm in his hand after you’d steadied yourself and it took him a moment to realize you had completely regained balance. He dropped your arm and cleared his throat, looking at your choice of clothing. 
“You’re not wearing your robes,” he pointed out. 
You rolled your eyes. “You’re clearly wearing yours.” 
“I hadn’t gone back to change,” Draco defends. He was still looking at your informal attire.
“I don’t wear my robes to bed, if that’s what you’re thinking,” you said, crossing your arms. “Plus, it’s cold. I don’t know how you aren’t freezing right now.” 
Draco shrugged. “So, about your proposition.” 
“Draco, you make it sound like we’re handling a transaction,” you said, taking a step around him. 
“Well, you made it sound like one.” 
You scrunch your nose. “I think both of us will benefit from being friendly, considering you have to spend an hour with me everyday.” 
“Can’t we just talk to each other when need be?”
You sighed, wondering if meeting Draco was a waste of time. 
“Fine,” you muttered. “I was getting cold anyway.” 
Draco watched as you walked from where you stood in front of him to the top of the staircase when he spoke before he could contemplate whether he really wanted to or not. 
“Wait,” he called out. You turned around. “If it’ll make this essay more tolerable, then yes, we can get to know each other.” 
You smiled and walked back towards him. 
“You know,” he began, “you’re cold because your hair is damp.”
“I know that,” you said while rolling your eyes. “Doesn’t mean I can’t complain about it.”
“So I’ve learned that you’re fairly chatty,” Draco said. 
“Depends,” you shrugged. “I’m kind of shy but I’ve definitely started to get out of my shell after befriending Harry, Ron, and Hermione.” Draco tried not to scoff at the mention of your friends. 
“Must be why I’ve never noticed you until this year,” he stated. You lowered your eyes and awkwardly walked around the tower. Draco watched your movements and wondered if he could’ve said that better. 
“Perhaps,” you mumbled. “I’m talkative to compensate for how awkward I feel when I’m around people I don’t know very well.”
“You could ignore everyone altogether,” he suggested. 
“Easy for you to say, Slytherin Prince,” you scoffed. “You already know people want to be friends with you if you ignore them.” 
Draco couldn't argue with that. “You overextend yourself.”
“No, I’m just friends with people everyone at this school knows.” 
Draco nodded and put his wand in his pocket after realizing he’d been gripping it too hard. The weather was cold, yes, but he wasn’t sure if that was the reason why he was approaching your conversation like it was fragile, like he had to think before he spoke. Your hair stuck to your cheeks and he watched as you kept pulling it from your face. 
“I bet you aren’t really as cold as you make yourself out to be,” you said, observing him from where you stood. 
“Oh?”
“Mhm. I bet you’ve got all these pent up emotions but you don’t like to show it.” 
Draco didn’t want to discuss him, particularly. He also didn’t want you to know that you were on the nose about what was going on with him lately. 
“I don’t think you know anything about me,” he said. “You just think you do.”
You looked at him and shrugged, unable to form an argument. He’d been an enigma to you since you started at Hogwarts the same year as he did, but you never had a reason to speak with him until now. You’d always been more perceptive than you were outgoing, keeping to yourself unless you were surrounded by people you knew fairly well. 
But Harry had asked you to help him with his homework at the beginning of the year and the both of you ended up walking to dinner afterwards, and subsequently you met Hermione and Ron. It was an inadvertent friendship, but a friendship you cherished nonetheless. Draco’s attention shifted to you sparingly, only bothering to acknowledge your presence if he were to acknowledge Harry’s in a condescending manner. He had never spoken to you directly or aimed a rude comment in your direction. Instead, Draco kept ignoring your presence and sneering at you from a distance if you were with the trio, and you were more than okay with keeping it that way.
That is, until you realized that Draco hadn’t bothered to torment your friends for the past couple of weeks. 
Draco kept his eyes to the floor when you passed him in the hallway and didn’t think about making a comment while passing your friends. You had taken notice of Draco’s behavior after having gotten used to his sneering comments and being a bystander to his attitude, and when you vocalized your thoughts about his well being, that was when you inadvertently paid more attention to him. 
“I don’t really value the people I surround myself with at the moment,” Draco confessed. He looked over the tower walls as he spoke. “Most of them are just placeholders. Zabini and Nott are an exception and I’m still trying to figure out how I feel about Pansy.” 
Draco looked back at you and realized your hair wasn’t as damp as it was anymore, and he wondered if you were as cold as you said you were. He shook his head and continued. 
“Sometimes I think I’m not cut out for what my father wants me to do.”
You didn’t ask him anything further. “I’m sorry, Draco.” 
He shook his head once more. “Being pure-blood isn’t as cracked up as everyone thinks it is. It’s just a bunch of formalities that no one wants to partake in.” 
“What do you want to do? After graduating, I mean.” 
“I don’t really know,” he said honestly. “I haven’t given it much thought. My life’s plan has been laid out for me by my father and I haven’t considered a life that wasn’t what he wanted.” 
“I think you have so much going for you and you just need to find a way to make what you want happen,” you said. 
“It’s not that easy--”
“I know,” you interjected. “I know it’s not. But maybe you just need to believe that you can do it.” 
Draco paused. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow. 
“Do sound like a Hufflepuff.” 
You rolled your eyes. “I mean it, Draco.”
He looked at you. “No one’s ever asked me what I wanted to do with my life.” 
“I can’t say that I’m jealous of your predicament.” 
Draco laughed, surprising you. “I would run away if I could.” 
You looked at him and the way the moonlight graced his frame. The winds started to pick up and you looked between him and the stairwell. 
“This was...nice,” said Draco. 
“See?” you teased. “This wasn’t so bad.” 
“I suppose you’re right,” he said. “And you know, I think you’re the only person who calls me ‘Draco.’” 
“What do you mean?” you asked. “It is your name, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but it’s always ‘Malfoy,’ never ‘Draco.’” 
You stood next to him while walking down the stairs and looked at him. 
“Oh,” you began, “I’m sorry.” 
“Don’t be,” Draco said quickly. “It’s okay. You can call me ‘Draco.’”
The following few days after meeting him at the Astronomy Tower weren’t as rigid as the first time you met him in the library. The essay was still a project you didn’t look forward to working on, but you weren’t as tense around Draco as you were before. He’d start a conversation with you and had made the effort to ask about your day, and you weren’t sure if this sudden change in attitude was going to last very long. 
Much to your surprise, the final days of working on your assignment with him made you think about how much you were going to miss meeting him after the day was over and working with him in private. The library, having always been your safe space, had become much more whenever you’d meet with Draco to work. He’d been less talkative towards your friends even if you were there, but talking to Draco about anything other than schoolwork when night came felt like you were talking to a whole different person. 
While his boisterous personality clashed with your innately introverted one, you could easily feel yourself exiting the shell you built around you when talking to people you didn’t know very well. You were surprised at how well you and Draco got along, almost to the point where he’d accompany you to your common room before saying goodnight. The Draco everyone knew was far removed from the Draco that talked with you until late into the night. 
In return, Draco could feel himself wondering if he was truly wrong about you. He’d never bothered to get to know Ravenclaws except for past flings, and he certainly never thought to strike up a conversation with you when he knew you were friends with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. But lately, talking about what he was worried about did him more good than bad. Draco liked to talk about his problems. He liked that you were willing to listen to him, even if you didn’t have the advice he wanted. Draco liked knowing you were there for him and that you wouldn’t tell a soul. 
So it surprised you when Draco waved at you from the threshold of the Great Hall while you were sitting with your friends at the Gryffinor table.
“What the bloody hell?” Ron asked you. 
“I’d go far to say we’re really good acquaintances,” you stated. “We worked on that essay, remember?”
“Yeah, but isn’t that done and over?” 
You rolled your eyes. “You boys are so daft.” 
“You mean to tell me you’ve actually gotten to know Malfoy?” Harry asked. 
“Well, yes,” you said. “When you work with someone on a big project, you tend to spend a lot of time together.” Harry rolled his eyes at your response. 
“As long as you know what you’re doing,” Hermione reassured. “I trust your judgement.” 
“Y/N’s gone mad, absolutely mad,” Ron said dramatically. You threw a dinner roll at his chest and he pretended to fall over on the bench, causing Harry to push him back upright. 
You could see Draco from over Harry’s shoulder and watched as he averted his attention from Blaise over to where you sat. He gave you a nonchalant smile in the midst of his conversation and you returned it. Draco shook his head and turned his attention back to his friends. 
+++
“Draco,” you hissed as he walked much quicker for your liking. “Slow down, will you? I’m like, half your height.”
“Keep up,” he teased. 
It was a Saturday afternoon and with Harry and Ron sick, and Hermione wanting to stay in her room to catch up on reading, you had asked Draco if he wanted to do something with you to fill the day. He agreed and met with you after lunch outside of the door but realized he had forgotten his wand.
“I can’t,” you mused. He laughed when he heard you catching your breath. “I can wait out here for you.”
“Nonsense,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. It’ll only take a minute. Just come up.” 
You barely had time to register what he said before he pulled you into the Slytherin common room and rushed into his room. 
He had his own room, that much you knew, but it was surprisingly neat. There was nothing that seemed out of place except for his wand that lay on his bed. The room was surprisingly welcoming. The walls were adorned with green and black tapestry and the windows had sheer covers that made the room feel more vibrant than you had expected. 
“I’m impressed,” you said. “You’re very clean.”
“What, you thought I’d live in absolute filth?” he said laughing as he tucked his wand in his back pocket. 
“I don’t know. I just assumed boys are messy. Harry and Ron’s room is a disaster.” 
“That’s because they’re Harry and Ron,” Draco replied. You couldn’t disagree. “Are you sure you’re not going to be cold? It’s November and you’re wearing jeans and a collared shirt.” 
“Well, I don’t want to walk back to my room,” you said. “I’ll be fine, Draco.” 
“Y/N,” he said pointedly. Draco walked past you and fetched a sweatshirt. “Here, put this on.”
“I feel like I’m betraying my house,” you whined. Draco only laughed and watched as you put his jumper on. “How do I look?” 
Draco furrowed his eyebrows and looked at your neckline, noticing the collars were stuck in the sweatshirt. He reached out to fix it and he realized just how short your stature was compared to his. You felt his fingers brush the back of your neck when he fixed your collar and you mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’ when he was finished. 
“Better now,” he whispered. 
The weekend passed by much quicker than you had liked and you found yourself on Monday morning, unable to get out of bed. Hermione pulled the covers off of you when she noticed Draco’s sweater hanging from the back of your chair. You hadn’t thought much about the day, other than Dumbledore giving students a week of free dress, and decided to put his sweater over a t-shirt. When you sat at the Gryffindor table with a green sweatshirt, Ron’s eyes nearly burst out. 
“First you betray your house by sitting with us, and now you betray us by wearing a Slytherin jumper?” Ron asked. You looked down and saw that you had put on Draco’s sweater. After spending time with him, he had told you to keep it with you until he saw you next, fearing that you’d become too cold despite him having walked you back to your common room. 
“If you must know,” you began, “he told me to return it when I saw him next. I forgot I had it until you pointed it out.” 
“You mean you didn’t see it when you put it on?”
You groaned. “It’s Monday and I’m absolutely exhausted, Ronald.” 
Draco hadn’t noticed you when he entered the hall, engrossed in a conversation with Theo. But when he sat at his table and looked to see where you chose to seat yourself, he saw his green sweater adorned on your body and did a double take. He choked on his morning tea and looked away from his friends, who offered him looks of concern, and brushed it off as going down the wrong pipe. He stole glances during breakfast, noticing your tired eyes and how unfocuse you were around your friends. Draco wished he could sit next to you and ask if you were doing alright. 
“Are you coming to the game?” Draco heard Ron ask you when he exited the hall. “You can watch us beat Slytherin to the next century.” 
“I just hope both teams have fun,” you said matter-of-factly. 
“You’re no fun,” he retorted. 
+++
Gryffindor had just won a quidditch match against Slytherin and they invited anyone who wanted to get their lips wet. As an honorary Gryffindor yourself, Ron was expecting you to be there to celebrate the win with him and the rest of your friends. Harry had ultimately won the game by catching the snitch, but Ron had done a remarkable job at preventing Slytherin from scoring any goals. The win meant a party in the Gryffindor common room and you were no exception. 
“Here’s to Harry!” Ron shouted when you walked downstairs, tipsy from the three shots Hermione had taken with you prior to arriving. 
The strappy heels you wore nearly cost you your balance when a group of girls ran past you, but Hermione was quick to catch your arm and steady you. The exceptionally short dress—your only party dress—seemed to be a bit of an overstatement when you realized most people were wearing skirts or jeans.
“Hush,” Hermione said when you looked around the room. “You look better than everyone here and you know it.”
“I’m going to try not to feel like I stick out like a sore thumb,” you said confidently, pushing your chest out in false bravado. Hermione enthusiastically clapped her hands twice and held your hand when leading you through the crowd of Gryffindors.
“Oi, Y/N,” said Harry, who stood bashfully between Ron and another girl. “Drink up.”
“It’s like you want me to get drunk,” you joked before you drank what little liquid was left in his cup. You grimaced and Ron laughed.
“That’s a particularly rough one,” he said. “Freddie and George are in charge of drinks tonight.”
“Figures,” you said as you handed him back his cup. 
“A shot of firewhisky for you,” said Harry, handing you a shot glass. “And wine to follow.”
“You are a terrible influence,” Hermione said.
“Y/N’s rarely ever here after a Gryffindor win and you know how fun she is when she’s drunk,” Ron interjected. “Besides, she wouldn’t be here if she didn’t want to drink.”
“Fair point, Weasley,” you replied, drinking the firewhisky. “But I warn you that wanting to drink as much as I am right now is probably not gonna happen any time soon.” 
Ron shrugged. “I’ll take what I can get.” 
An hour and a half into the night, you find yourself alone with an empty cup in your hand. The table next to you is littered with glasses and discarded food wrappers, and you add your cup to the pile. The common room is still as busy as it was when you arrived but everyone seemed too intoxicated to pay attention when you slid out the door. 
Your steps echoed on the floors of the castle and you winced at how loud they were. Bracing yourself against a wall, you idly took off your shoes with a bit of a struggle before gathering yourself and continuing on your path. 
You hadn’t done much exploring without the commotion of students during the daytime. The grand walls seemed much taller because of your inebriated state and the paintings that hung seemed like they were much bigger than they were. 
It was when you were nearly about to trip over your feet when you heard your name being called.
“Y/N?” 
You turned around to see Draco. He wore grey sweatpants and a form fitting black turtleneck with a green washcloth in his hand. He looked exhausted from earlier but the handsome blond looked at you with a quizzical expression. 
“May I ask why you’re walking around the castle late at night?” he asked, amused at your drunken state.
“Well, I was at the Gryffindor common room because of their win–sorry–and we all got really drunk really fast,” you explained, attempting to distribute your weight between your legs for balance. “It got really hot inside and all of my friends who were nowhere to be found, so here I am!”
Draco raised his eyebrow. “And you thought you’d walk around the castle, well after curfew, barefoot?” 
“Not barefoot,” you said, holding up your heels. “They got really loud.” 
“I’m surprised you didn’t take them off beforehand. Pansy’s always talking about how much they hurt when they wear them.” 
“I think I’m too drunk to care,” you said with a shrug. You walked by the common room entrance and dropped your heels near the wall, dropping to floor level. 
Draco watched as you slid down the wall with ease and closed your eyes for a brief moment. He watched as you tried to fix your dress to an appropriate position and chuckled when you took your hair down from its ponytail; you looked relaxed, less high strung than he was used to. 
“Are you planning on staying there all night?” Draco asked, looking at your spot on the floor. He stepped in front of you and nudged your leg with the tip of his shoes. 
“You wear Oxfords to the bathroom?” you asked, inspecting the black shoe. 
Draco rolled his eyes. “It was the only thing near enough to slip on. It’s genuine Italian leather, you know. One of the Muggle’s greatest gifts.” 
“I wasn’t aware you owned anything made by Muggles.” Draco shrugged. He stepped beside you and joined you on the floor. 
“You’ve got more to learn about me, I suppose.” 
It was quiet for a moment. You looked at the wall in front of you and your thoughts overtook your attention. It seemed as though a plethora of thoughts were racing through your mind and you were having a hard time picking one to talk about. Draco seemed to notice your absent expression and nudged your shoulder. 
“What are you thinking about?” 
“Me?” you asked.
“Yes, you,” said Draco. “You’re the only one here besides me.” 
“Oh,” you said, nodding, “yes. That’s correct.” 
“So, what are you thinking about?”
“Where do I begin?” you breathed. “I think my first qualm is about what I’m going to do after graduation. I have no bloody idea what I want to do with my life and it seems like everyone has their shit figured out.” 
“I can guarantee you that you are absolutely not alone in thinking that,” Draco said, his voice producing a slight echo in the empty hallway. 
“Second, I’m eternally grateful that I’ve persevered through all of my hardest tests.” 
“You’re the smartest girl I know,” he replied. 
You looked pensive, looking at your hands and picking at your nails. The biggest of your qualms was about your lack of experience in the love department and how awkward you felt whenever Harry, Ron, or Hermione would bring up dates or anything of the sort. Even Hermione, who was just as much of a bookworm and a stickler for rules as you were, seemed to enjoy a casual date or two every once in a while and saw no issue in sharing a kiss at parties. Yet you found yourself awkwardly sitting in your seat, unable to contribute to their conversation, forced to listen to their escapades. 
“Lastly…” you trailed off. 
“Lastly?” 
You shook your head. “It’s dumb.” Draco looked at you from where he sat and shook his head. 
“Nothing you say is dumb, Y/N.” 
“Well, I guess my last qualm is how I feel absolutely behind when it comes to relationships and I feel so stupid for being the only person I know who hasn’t held hands without it being platonic.” 
“What?” Draco asked, his eyes widening in surprise. “You’ve never had your first kiss?” 
“You don’t have to rub it in,” you frowned. He shook his head relentlessly. 
“I’m not making fun of you,” Draco reassured. “Just a bit surprised, is all.”
“Why’s that?” You looked up at him from where you sat. 
He didn’t miss a beat. “You’re very outgoing when you want to be and I can’t name a single person who’s ever said anything bad about you. You are the quintessential Ravenclaw, yes, but you adapt so easily to other people. You make people feel like they have a friend, Y/N.” 
Draco wasn’t sure if he was projecting. You were too drunk to notice. 
“I don’t know.” 
“I’m being serious.” Draco turned to look at you. “It doesn’t matter, okay?” 
“Easy for you to say that,” you scoffed. “You’ve taken Pansy to the Yule Ball loads of times and I know you’ve kissed loads of girls. Don’t even try to lie to me.”
“I know, but that doesn’t make me any better than you.” 
“But it makes you more experienced.”
“So what?” Draco asked. “Why rush yourself into these things? Who cares about this stuff when other people like you for you?” 
“I hate that this is an insecurity because I like the way I am,” you begin, “but it’s really hard to stop comparing myself to other girls when everyone I’ve grown up with has done all of these things but I haven’t.” You laugh at yourself. “I don’t think a guy has ever expressed any interest in me.” 
“That’s not true,” Draco said instantaneously. You laughed again. 
“It is though,” you replied. “I thought Dean Thomas was hitting on me but he just wanted me to help him get an A on the first exam of the year. That’s about it, really. So I’ve gathered that guys really aren’t that interested in me.” 
Draco looked at you. “Y/N, that’s not true.” 
It was quiet for a moment while you tried to understand what Draco said. He could see the gears turning in your head as you tried to decipher what he said. He knew that if it weren’t for your inebriated state, you might’ve caught onto what he said before he was about to say it. 
But you sighed and put your head on his shoulder, bringing your knees to your chest. 
“Well anyway, I just wanted to get some air. I love Gryffindors but they’re so loud.” 
Draco let out a hearty laugh and looked at you. He watched as you smiled in triumph when making him laugh, something he knew you were secretly trying to do ever since you proposed getting to know one another. 
“I really like hearing you laugh,” you said. 
“Why’s that?”
“You don’t brood as much.” 
“I do not brood.”
“Yes you do.” 
“Agree to disagree,” Draco said, recovering from his laugh. 
“I’m cold,” you said abruptly. Draco watched as you attempted to warm up by rubbing your arms with your hands. 
“Should’ve brought a jacket,” he teased. 
“Shut up,” you retorted. “We can’t all be wearing sweatpants and a turtleneck.” 
Before Draco could register what was about to happen, he put his arm around you and pulled your body close to his. 
His body is pure warmth. The hands that adorn silver rings are now warm with heat and the fabric of his turtleneck provides a bit of warmth, but the blush that sits on your cheek provides the most heat. Perhaps it’s because your ability to turn exceptionally red while drinking, but you know it’s because your thigh touched his. Without thinking much of it, you move yourself to Draco’s lap sideways with the help of liquid courage and the need to be held like you’d die if you weren’t warm. 
Draco’s eyes widened in surprise because he did not anticipate that he would be this close to you. He’s dreamt about it and fantasized about how your body would feel next to his. Draco’s gone so far as to dream about what it would feel like to hold your hand in the middle of the hallway without a care in the world, but he always thought he’d gradually build up the momentum before you found your way onto his lap. 
But Draco didn’t push you off. He put his arm around you and used his free hand to caress the side of your cheek, brushing stray strands of hair from your face. 
“That feels really good,” you said, your eyes looking up at Draco in bliss. 
“Yeah?” He cooed softly. 
“Yeah,” you replied. 
“You’ve never held hands before?” Draco asked. 
You shook your head. “Not romantically.” 
Draco dropped his hand from your cheek and lifted your own, intertwining your fingers with his.  
“You’ve never held hands like this?” 
You shook your head again. 
“Not like this,” you whispered. 
Draco smiled at your bashful expression, liking the way you’ve gone slack against his body. He liked that you were trying to hide a smile by biting your lip and liked the way you buried your face into his chest when you caught him looking at you. 
“Don’t get bashful on me now, Y/N,” Draco laughed. 
“I’m shy,” you mumbled into his chest. 
“My shy girl,” he said, squeezing your hand. 
He didn’t think life could get any sweeter than that. He looked down at you and watched as your eyes flickered from his eyes down to his lips, and followed the voice in his head that told him to kiss you. 
Draco put his lips on yours and wondered why he hadn’t done that sooner. 
+++
When Hermione realized you were missing, she panicked and asked Ron and Harry if they’d seen you. Feeling guilty for briefly leaving you to say hello to a friend, and subsequently forgetting to introduce the two of you because of her equally intoxicated state, Hermione looked around the common room before marching her way into her dormitory. Your presence is gone and Hermione’s heart was pounding with regret, wanting nothing more than to apologize to you. 
She found her way to the Ravenclaw common room, asking Cho if you had come back from the party. Cho, who almost always knew if you were in your room or not, told Hermione that you hadn’t come back and assumed you were with her. Hermione thanked Cho for her time and chose to walk throughout the castle to look for you.
You were nowhere to be found. Hermione first tried to find you in your favorite spots to no avail and was about to give up, opting to apologize to you when you were both sober in the morning, when she heard voices from the opposite hallway. 
Quietly, Hermione peered around the corner and watched as you sat on Draco’s lap. She could barely hear the two of you talking through hushed whispers. Hermione watched Draco’s hand stroke your hair while your body rested on his chest. You toyed with his free hand, inspecting his fingers as you spoke. 
Hermione was nearly ready to make her presence known from the corner she was hiding in until she heard Draco laugh boisterously at something you had said, his head hitting the back wall from trying to catch his breath. You smiled up at him in awe and watched as he failed to quiet himself, and when Draco had caught his breath, he pulled you in for a quick embrace. Hermione watched as you looked at him as if he had painted the stars in the sky for you. 
When classes resumed the following week, you had been accompanied by Harry, Ron, and Hermione after spending lunch in the Great Hall. 
“Hey, Y/N!” Draco shouted from behind you. The four of you turned your head until Draco pulled you by the hand towards himself and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. Harry and Ron gasped, unsure of how to react to their best friend kissing Draco.
When Draco ultimately pulled away, he gave your hand a squeeze and went in for another brief kiss. 
“Come sit with me at dinner?” he asked. 
“Of course,” you said, squeezing his hand. He smiled at you before turning to address your friends. 
“Harry, Ron, Hermione,” he said, nodding at the three of them. Hermione waved politely as Harry and Ron looked at him walking away. 
“What in the hell…” Ron trailed off. 
“You and Malfoy?” Harry asked. 
“If you two used your eyes, you’d see that she and Draco have been pining after each other for so long,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes before looking at you. “Daft, I tell you.” 
“Keep it up, Y/N,” said Ron. “I want him to be nice to me all the time.” 
“Boys,” you muttered. 
But you didn’t want to change a single thing.
190 notes · View notes
wtfevenismypage · a year ago
Text
Curiosity Killed The Cat
request: request. i’m not sure if you’re comfortable with writing it but it’s worth a try the team is always teasing spencer saying “he’s definitely a virgin” and he’s like “wtf no i’m not” one day they’re like ok well then y/n can see for herself, y/n is like “😳i didn’t sign up for this” and long story short they come back to the bau and the team is like “ ok soooo?” and y/n is like zoning out mumbling “you were wrong”
Warnings: SMUT (Penetration, oral (female recieving), spanking, over-stimulation, choking, degrading kink)
A/N: YO SHIT’S ABOUT TO GO DOWN, I am going to start publishing fics again, but updates will be very very slow. They’ll increase eventually, but for now, they are slow. Love you all!
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The night began at work. A late night with the team at the office, stacks of files mounted on all of your desks and you’re all gathered around to keep each other awake.
“Ugh. This is too much work. Seriously. Can’t killers ever take a break?”
You whine, spinning in the swivel chair and holding a file in the air. Morgan chuckles, staring at his own file before speaking.
“I need a drink after this.”
“You and me both Morgs.”
“I told you to stop calling me that Girly.”
You chuckle, stopping your spinning and standing up to stretch. It feels nearly impossible to stay awake. Not necessarily because you’re tired, but you’ve been staring at similar files all day and it’s getting boring and tiring.
 “I’ll do refills on coffee. Gimme your mugs.”
You say, letting them pile different sizes of cups and mugs in your arms. You saunter over to the coffee machine and set them on the counter.
You set the pot for a lot of coffee and quickly dash to Hotch’s office, where him and Rossi are.
“Yo, I’m making coffee, y’all need refills?”
They shake their heads and you shrug, returning to the coffee machine and pouring the coffee in the mugs before adding cream and sugar.
“How much sugar tonight Reid?”
You ask, turning to the tall doctor with a smirk. Luckily, you and your team are the only people left in the bullpen so you can be as loud as you want.
“A lot.”
You snort, grabbing the box of sugar and piling it in, almost emptying it before putting it on the shelf and making a few trips to distribute the coffee.
“Here you are Spencer, sugar with some coffee on the side.”
You chuckle, sitting in your chair again and picking a new file up, only to find that this was the last file.
“Oh. Anyone else wanna give me files? I’m on my last one.”
Morgan and Emily immediately run up to you with files, dropping them on your desk and thanking you. It made you laugh, watching smiles grown on their faces.
“Okay team. We’re almost finished. Just a little bit more now.”
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(SEXUAL THEMES BEYOND THIS POINT)
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A few hours later you, Spencer, Rossi, and Hotch are finished with your stacks, waiting for the other three with Penelope, discussing bars to go to.
“Oooo there’s a new one downtown, we should go there.”
“Can you guys hold back your alcohol talk until tonight please? I just wanna get out of here fast and maybe get lucky tonight.”
Emily pleads, making you and the other women go “oooo” while the men groan.
“Oh boy you are right Em. I haven’t gotten laid in so long. Too long.”
You say, leaning back in your chair and looking at a flabbergasted Penelope.
“How long?”
She asks, staring at you in disbelief. You were a very beautiful woman (Don’t you fucking dare say otherwise) so people often assumed you had sex often. You weren’t private about it either. So what if people judged you? Sex is natural and anyone who says otherwise is selling something.
“Since my first time in middle school. I had a delusion that sex was gonna be this amazing thing and then it was actually terrible. I gave up all hope and never slept with anyone ever again. So you know, it is what it is.”
Everyone looked at you in shock, confused as to how you went your whole life without sex.
“Wait really?”
Morgan questions, his attention dropping from the files to you in an instant. Spencer simply stared at you in disbelief, his expression suddenly making you nervous.
“Y-yeah. I haven't had sex since middle school. It isn’t a big deal.”
You defend, but Penelope wraps an arm around you, pulling you close.
“Oh honey I’m definitely finding you someone to take home.”
“Hey, at least you had your first time, unlike pretty boy over here.”
Morgan teases, messing with Spencer’s hair. Spencer was often teased for being a virgin, but none of you knew what to believe. He said he wasn’t, but refused to tell even Morgan about any of his times.
“How many times do I have to tell you guys, I’m not a virgin!”
“Then tell us about one time.”
Morgan says, a wide smirk on his face at the disheveled state of the genius doctor. Poor Reid just wanted to be left alone but Morgan will not let this go.
“Morgan. Not all of us are public about our sex lives like you bud. Sometimes I wish you were as secretive as Reid. None of us want to hear about how you “got it on”.”
Morgan grimaces, and Spencer looks to you thankfully. 
“C’mon Y/N, you aren’t even a little curious?”
Emily asks from her desk, finally finishing up the last file with JJ. You shrug, playing with your hair briefly.
“Of course I’m super curious, but, unlike you lust goblins, I stand with Hotch and Rossi and don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”
Various groans come from the team as you fist-bump Hotch and Rossi, laughing at their defeat.
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When Morgan finally finishes, you all head to the new bar downtown, smiling at the flashing lights of the dance floor and immediately going to a small table with the rest of the team.
“Oh hells yes! This place is already fun!”
Penelope squeals, waving a worker over to get food. Morgan sits next to you, Emily on your other side and Spencer is next to Morgan and Hotch. 
“Alright my baby’s we are partying until Y/N gets lucky!”
You chuckle at Penelope’s words, raising a glass of water to your lips and taking a big swig of it before looking around. The people in there were definitely attractive, but your mind never swayed from a certain genius.
You meant it when you said you were curious, your mind had always wandered to certain images when you went to sleep, constantly imagining what he would be like.
You’re mind was so easily destroyed by him. All of your thoughts contorted by him. To the point where you can’t imagine sleeping with any of these other people, but you’re scared to ruin your friendship with him by trying to sleep with him.
“Ah guys. I’m fine. I don’t want to sleep with someone I don’t know.”
Morgan groans, nudging your side and making you laugh.
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A few hours later, Spencer has abandoned ship and went to the bathroom, leaving you alone with the rest of the team as you eat some wings.
“Oh my god I know how to figure out if Reid’s a virgin or not!”
Penelope shouts, you look at her excited face, just smirking as she squeals.
“And what is your plan?”
“One of us hooks up with him!”
You all choke on your food and drinks, staring at her in shock.
“I’m sorry what? Did you just say-”
“Actually that’s not a bad idea.”
Hotch cuts you off. You turn to his smirking face in shock. Never in a million years would you have thought that Aaron Hotchner thought one of you sleeping with Reid is a good idea.
“Hotch! Wouldn’t that like, mess with work or something?”
He shrugs, turning to you and smirking.
“What can I say? I’m curious too.”
You sigh, chuckling a bit and shaking your head.
“I say Y/N does it.”
“What?”
“Yeah! Y/N is single and hasn’t gotten laid in a while, it’s perfect!”
“Guys no I-”
“Oh my god you’re right! Plus there’s plenty of sexual tension between the two of them.”
You sigh, knowing they won’t let up until this happens. When the team wants something, they make it happen.
“Okay guys, I didn’t sign up for this, I’m not your test dummy.”
You say, putting your wings down on the plate in front of you and looking around at them all.
“Please girly? Pretty please?”
Morgan begs, clutching your hand tightly and shaking it up and down like a child who wants a toy.
“Y/N, I will make sure you get a raise in your paycheck.”
You stop and think about it for a second.
It could ruin your relationship with him forever, then again, he’s the type to forgive and forget when it comes to his friends.
And if it did work out, then things could be awkward between the two of you for a long time, or worse, he’d regret it. And like all the things he regrets, he’d ignore you until you disappeared.
And the worst you can think of, you take his virginity. Not someone he loves, not his girlfriend or wife, you. His bestfriend and co-worker. 
But still, just that small percentage that everything might go completely right and you might even get a second time with him makes it feels like it might be worth it.
“Okay fine. But I don’t want a raise. If I’m doing this it’s because I want to.”
They all cheer and you just smile, taking a swig of beer before motioning for Morgan to switch seats with you so that when Spencer comes back he’ll be next to you.
Within a few minutes Spencer returns and you feel a heat travel up your neck as you look at him. He turned to you and smiled, sending shivers up your spine as you smiled back.
“Why’d you switch places?”
He asks, you turn to Morgan for help, pleading him to come up with a fake story.
“Emily kept poking her so she told me to switch.”
He says, you practically glare daggers at him, but you go with it, turning back to Spencer and nodding with a smile.
“Yep, so now, you are stuck with me.”
You joke, trying to ease the dusty pink on your cheeks, and nudge him gently in the arm.
In a few minutes you muster up the courage to let your hand travel off of the counter and onto Spencer’s thigh, feeling your entire face go crimson at the feeling of the hard muscle.
He choked on his water briefly before looking at you, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of your red face. You were trying to hide any emotion you felt out of embarrassment. 
He didn’t say anything though, you’re hand felt warm against the cool breeze of the bar, and he wasn’t opposed to your touch whatsoever.
Everyone continued talking and laughing as your hand inched upwards, and you could feel his body tense up every once in a while, and every time he did, you paused, giving him a moment to push your hand away or tell you to stop, but he didn’t. Not even when you began massaging and squeezing the muscle in your hands.
In fact, he at some point grabbed your hand and positioned it right above his own cock. You weren’t touching it yet, just hovering in slight fear.
He wants this.
You thought before slowly lowering your hand, your eyes widening at the feeling of his semi hard and fairly large cock. What the hell were you getting yourself into?
You glance at him quickly, only to find him staring straight back at you with lust lidded eyes. They were intimidating, almost scary. Usually you would have hated to be on the receiving end of this glare, but in this context, it made you feel like a match had been lit inside of you and you were just left there with a lit match inside of you.
The moment you squeezed your hands just slightly, he abruptly stood up, your hand falling from his crotch. Everyone looks at him in shock as he yanks you up.
“I need to talk to you.”
Is all he says before dragging you away. You only had a split second to turn and see the teams faces, but they were all pretty much the same. 
A shit eating smile with wiggling eyebrows.
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From the moment you were yanked into the private room with Spencer, you were super nervous. It had been years, you were inexperienced. What if he didn’t like it? What if he left because you were bad at it?
He seemed to notice your panicked state and sat you down on the bed, crouching in front of you and taking your hands in his.
“Hey, we don’t have to do this. As much as I would love to prove to you that I really am not a virgin, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. But if you say yes, I will pillage your body to the point that you can’t walk next week.”
Well shit, now you were fully convinced and super turned on. You had thought he was vanilla, or maybe even a bottom, but oh wow you were so wrong.
“Do it.”
Those were the only two words needed for Spencer Reid to pounce, and your plane of vision was knocked over, now laying on your back as he traps you under his body. 
His lips are everywhere. They’re on yours at first, but they travel to your jaw, your neck, and his lengthy fingers work at the buttons on your dress shirt rapidly. 
“Shit Spencer...”
You whine out as he works his hands across your body. They feel like fire against your skin. His lips are wet and messy, kissing and marking your neck for the world to see.
You grip his shirt, tugging at it and opening your mouth to speak, but a moan slips out instead. You shut your eyes in embarrassment as you feel his lips curl upwards on your collarbone, the suckling feeling feeling so warm and tingly.
“What is it baby? You want me to take my shirt off? huh?”
You nod eagerly, chest rising and falling quickly as he raises his body off of yours, and you open your heavy eyes to see him strip off his shirt. He isn’t muscly, but he’s perfect, he looks perfect.
“What do you want baby?”
You stumble over your words, your mind already fuzzy somehow by just his lips.
“You. I want you. Please Spencer I want you.”
 You beg, your hands travelling up his torso and feeling his soft skin. He leans down again, towering over you and smashing his lips on your while his hands work on getting your pants off.
His lips were safe, careful. Not aggressive, and his tongue that tasted the inside of your mouth was warm and loving, savoring your taste as you whined into his.
He was smiling so widely against your skin, his pride booming at the way you reacted to his touch. He never once thought he could get you to react like this.
“You just wanted to see if I was a virgin huh? You curious?”
You nod and shake your head, confused on why you were doing this as well. You wanted this so much it almost hurt, you’ve wanted this since day one. You were also really curious as well though.
“You know what they say.”
He leans into your ear, kissing your neck and biting your ear.
“Curiosity killed the cat.”
You felt his fingers rub at your clothed pussy, your black cloth panties preventing him from fucking you with his fingers. His fingers rub against your clit, the cotton creating friction on it as well.
 “Please Spencer! Please please please!”
You beg, feeling his breath land on your cold skin in a way that felt so raw and rigid. He tugs at your panties, freeing your cunt as a finger rubs against your clit, the bundle of nerves jolting you up.
A loud moan escapes your lips as he continues circling your clit with his long fingers, His lips kissing your open ones.
Two fingers probe into you, scissoring themselves inside of you. You groan into his mouth as they curl upwards into your wet cunt.
“Shit!”
He moves his head between your thighs, licking a wet stripe up your clit, flicking it around as you moan at the sensitive feeling. It feels like electricity lighting up the sensitive nub.
A pressure builds between your legs, a spring coiling in your stomach as he suckles on your clit, fucking you fast with his fingers.
“Spencer! I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum!”
“Do it.”
It hits you like a fiery clap of thunder, the feeling so extreme and hot it almost makes you scream and you can only hope no one heard you over the music outside.
Your breathing is labored as your high dies down, but Spencer doesn’t let up, he flips you over onto your stomach, dragging you to your knees by your hips. 
“Wha-”
You get cut off by your own moan of pain, the tip of his cock slowly being pressed into your tight and wet cunt.
“It’ll get better baby, I’ll go slow, I promise. Just tell me when you want me to go, and when you want me to stop. Okay?”
You nod against the pillow under your face, tears slipping out of the corners of your eyes. A hand lands on your ass, making you yelp at the rough feeling.
“Words baby.”
You moan, palming the sheets with your fists as he pulls out completely, leaving you to feel empty.
“Okay! Please Spencer! Please I need you!”
You could practically feel his pride rolling off of him as he pushes into your sex slowly, filling you up fully. 
It’s a stinging feeling, as if you were being torn apart. But he waits, he let’s you adjust to his girthy size before moving. He really was gentle. You hadn’t expected him to be rough exactly, but he was shockingly gentle and patient.
Eventually, you got used to the feeling, it felt so satisfying as well. The feeling of being so full and warm was so pleasuring, it sent little jolts of pleasure up your spine and out your mouth, making Spencer smirk.
“You’re so tight for me. You so curious you let me fuck you huh? So eager?”
You nod, burying your face into the pillows. You want him to move, to fuck you until you break, but words won’t come out, so you move your hips forwards, letting part of him slip out of you before moving him back into your dripping cunt.
A loud groan escapes both of your lips at the feeling, his hand lands on your ass again, reddening it before taking the hint and thrusting into you carefully.
“Oh... Holy crap!”
You moan out as he continues to clench your hips, surely leaving bruises tomorrow. His thrusts remained slow and deep, but it felt just right. He let his hands wander, travelling up and down your body.
His fingers find your bra, unclipping it and letting it fall off. Your breasts move to the rhythm of his thrusts.
“Faster... Please Spencer faster!”
“What’s that my little slut? You want more? You gonna be a greedy little slut?”
You could feel your cheeks become a dark crimson color, slightly embarrassed at the degrading language he was using, but you nod nonetheless, wanting him to pound into you shamelessly.
“Very well. What a dirty slut wants, she gets.”
His pace quickens suddenly, each thrust into you sharp and hitting into you just right. Loud moans escape both yours and Spencer’s lips, the room becoming sweaty and sticky quickly.
“This want you want you whore? You just want to be fucked like a cheap whore?”
Pointless babbles fall out of your mouth, quiet “Yes” and “I’m your cheap whore” being mumbled as he pounded into from behind. 
A gasp escapes your lips as he lands another smack to your ass, leaving a burning sensation that felt so damn pleasurable after the initial sting.
A familiar pressure builds up between your thighs again, Your legs trembling under the Thunderous feeling of your orgasm washing over your entire body.
You had thought that two orgasms would have been enough for him, but he doesn’t let up, even flipping you back over and thrusting into you harder. 
“S-Spencer!”
You gasp and squirm as his fingers find your sensitive and swollen clit, pinching and rubbing it with his thumb and index finger. It felt like a wave of nerves jolting every bone, your back arching off of the cushion underneath you.
He continues pounding into you mercilessly, admiring the way your tits bounce at his pace, the way you so desperately panted for mercy, but your body betrayed you.
If you really wanted him to get off of you, you would have made it much more clear, you would have been pushing him off more, but you were more just clutching him closer than anything, wriggling your body around.
You couldn’t form any words at this point, chasing after your third orgasm endlessly. You manage to spot the hand that isn’t abusing your clit snake its way up your body, playing and pinching your nipples briefly before wrapping itself around your neck. 
Soft squeezes are delivered to your throat, making you whimper and whine, your own hands reaching his wrist for support, feeling up the vein-y muscles.
“Spencer! Spencer I’m gonna... I’m gonna cum!”
You whimper out, his hand tightens around your throat and his fingers rub your clit faster and harder, abusing the already raw nerves. 
Everything felt so overwhelming. Your body was shaking aggressively each time he rubbed your swollen nub, and the feeling of him pounding into your wet cunt repeatedly slamming your sweet spot mercilessly and choking you out at the same time was so raw and powerful. 
It felt unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. And with a broken moan, you came all over his cock, clenching around him and pushing him over the edge as well. 
He came right inside of you, riding out his high while slowing the rubs delivered to your clit. Your insides were twitching like crazy around his sensitive cock, making him groan while watching your entire body shake.
Soon after you both came, he pulled out, letting his cum drip out of you and onto the bed, pulling your body to sit up.
“Well, did I pass your test?”
You lazily nod at his question. You panted heavily, trying to chase after your breath.
“Holy shit Spencer... That was... Wow.”
He chuckled, grabbing your clothes off of the floor and placing them next to you.
“Need help cleaning up?”
You shook your head, meeting his starstruck eyes for the first time since he choked you. They were so bright, so in awe. 
“Alright, well I’m gonna head home so I don’t have to face the others. See you at work?”
“See ya.”
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Twenty minutes later, Spencer had gone home and you had finished getting all of his cum out of you, and now you were fully dressed, making your way back to the others in a shell shocked state of mind.
Everyone else was trying their hardest not to laugh at the sight of your shaky legs when you stumbled into your chair, red hickies all over your neck. You sat with a blank stare in your eyes, chugging your water.
“So?”
Morgan asked, knowing the answer already but just wanting to hear it anyways.
“You were wrong.”
You managed to mumble out. Everyone broke out laughing, even Hotch and Rossi.
You continued to eat your wings, The memory of what just happened stuck on replay in your brain.
PERMANENT TAGLIST(OPEN) @pinkdiamond1016 @spencer-reids-snow-white @sheepfather @eusuntgroot @libradolan
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dikleyt · 5 months ago
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The word “diaspora” was originally coined for the scattering of Jews from Eretz Yisroel, and later extended to any other group of people living away from some point of origin, without necessarily any connotation of hope for/expectation of return, just a basic acknowledgement of a historical point of origin. We can now speak of other diasporas because the term was made abstract, generalized. On its own, this is good and fine; it’s great when other people are able to take inspiration from the Jews and find the words we use meaningful for themselves as well.
But now we also have a strong tendency for certain leftists to act like this original diaspora was itself a myth or a lie, erasing the original history of the word and the people for whom it was coined. They claim, falsely, that Judaism were just another universalistic religion that spread around the world via conversion. It’s like people think a bunch of Eastern Europeans got together and were like, “I want to be one of those Christ-killers who everyone gets psyched about murdering every Easter and Christmas and whenever something bad happens. Let’s do it, let’s call ourselves Ashkenazi Jews. Aren’t you so excited to be a pariah and flee from country to country and die at the sword of the Christians while saying the Shema? This is gonna be really fun! I was born a good European Christian, but there’s just something about living in constant fear for my life that I really am just ready to give all that up for. So yeah, this is why we’re converting to Judaism. Dunno how that’s going to happen since there is no diaspora and consequently no one to instruct us in Jewish law, no Jews to live among, no Rabbinic court to decide our conversion is proper, nor any mikva for us to immerse ourselves in, but I guess we’ll all just wing it.”
The diaspora was not a myth. Nor is it the whole story of the Jewish people, either. After being scattered from Eretz Yisroel we interacted with the cultures we came into contact with. We learned their languages, often adding a Jewish twist to them, and over time our pronunciation of Hebrew lost sounds that were no longer familiar to us, or changed them to more familiar sounds. Our food changed. We made art and poetry and music and philosophy, as a diaspora people.
Occasionally people made the decision to join our nation, and they did all the things they were required to do to join it, and became naturalized. This is just like how when we were still living in the Levant, lots of people were migrating in and becoming Jews, which is why even to this day we call converts “foreigners” (גרים). This is natural; migration has always been a huge thing in every area. The only strange thing Jews did was to take our identity with us no matter where we were, and consequently continue welcoming “foreigners” into the fold.
I’m not ever going to see eye-to-eye with the sort of “diasporism” that involves the absolute negation of our history in order to play to the views of certain leftist goyim who either don’t know any better, are malicious, or don’t have any opinions of their own. Just because someone believes Ashkenazi Jews are khazars and is going to call me a “Zionist” if I disagree, doesn’t mean I have to accept their false narrative.
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plutosluts · a month ago
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two lovers and a jet, mason mount
the thought process of how i came across the name jet was so funny— anyways this was an idea that came to mind and i just ran w it :)
summary : mason and you aren’t speaking to each other, and you have one hell of a protective dog
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you were upset, to say the most — mason had forgotten his and yours’ anniversary and had instead spent the day with declan. to some extent, you understood, knowing the two hadn’t spent much time together, but you planned something really special for the two of you.
when he came back home and saw the card on the counter and you wrapped up in a blanket in front of the tv, he knew he’d fucked up. “shit” he mumbled under his breath, quickly taking off his shoes and making his way to you.
he had no idea how to approach you, he knew you were upset and it was because of something he did, but how to solve it was the issue.
just as he leant down to tap you, the sound of paws padding on the floor gained both yours and mason’s attention, and since it was coming from behind him, you turned that way only to be met with your boyfriend.
“fucking hell, why’d you scare me like that” you jumped, placing a hand on your chest. realising how bad it looked, mason’s lips formed a small ‘o’ and he immediately apologised. “fuck, i’m sorry, i was coming to talk to you” he said quickly, not wanting to make this worse.
you walked around him with the blanket still around you, and towards the dog that had crept into the room. jet, the husky that you and mason got quite a while ago, wagged his tail, excited to be getting lots of cuddles and belly rubs from you and mason, but tilted his head to the side when he noticed mason was just standing in the same position.
“look i… i didn’t mean to miss it, it completely slipped my mind and i—” he began to say, leaning back in the sofa a bit before you interrupted him. “it’s okay, mason. not a big deal anyways” you said with a small, lopsided smile. of course it was a big deal to you.
and he knew that. signal number one that he’d royally fucked up — you dismissed him like it was nothing. but mason knew you, and he also knew that what he did hurt you. he let out a sigh, moving closer to you and the furry animal. “i’m sorry, i really am, let me make this up to you, please?” he pressed further, grabbing your hand softly.
you pushed his away, not really in the mood since your day had been ruined. “mason, i told you, it’s fine. just leave it, okay?” you replied quietly, leaving almost immediately. jet followed behind you, after giving mason’s hand a small nudge, thinking he was coming with you.
but mason stayed, giving you your space and trying to figure out how to make it up to you. he could ask declan… but that would be dragging his best mate into his mess, and he certainly didn’t want to do that.
you didn’t necessarily mean to ignore mason, but you wanted him to know how you felt about this, so you resulted to silent treatment. this never ended well, you usually either gave in to mason’s pining tactics, or you got tired of ignoring him.
you headed upstairs, the paws still padding behind you as you reached your shared room with mason. letting out a deep sigh, you flopped onto the bed dramatically, and jet let out a soft whine at your actions.
to say he was a protective dog was quite the understatement, breeds like his were trained to protect their owners. and mason might have underestimated the lengths that jet would go to to protect you.
a few hours had passed, and mason had busied himself by trying to think of ways to get you to speak to him again. so far, he came up with popping party poppers in your face with a banner that read ‘happy anniversary’ , but that didn’t seem like a good idea.
on the other hand, you were still in the bedroom, awakening from a small nap you must’ve had when you were overthinking about ignoring mason. during that time, jet lay at the end of the bed through your whole nap, watching over you as you slept.
between the time that you took to scroll through your phone and give jet some belly rubs and cuddles, mason had come up with a simple yet efficient enough plan to apologise to you. so he made his way to the kitchen to start preparing your favourite meal, and luckily enough, everything he needed was there.
its been 7 hours since you last talked to mason. yes, you were counting, and you were surprised you managed to keep up this long. but you were getting hungry, and so decided to head downstairs for something to eat, jet following behind you.
except, mason was also in the kitchen.
he must’ve had impeccable timing, because as you were coming down the stairs, he finished setting out the meal on two plates. he whipped his head around as he heard you descending the stairs, rushing to make sure everything looked tidy.
“fuck” you muttered, upon seeing him. you weren’t exactly ready to break your streak of not talking to me just yet.
but mason let out a small sigh of relief, seeing that you were still wearing one of his hoodies, telling him you weren’t mad at him, just very upset.
he slowly made his way around the counter and towards you, who was walking to the sink to grab a drink. you swiftly eyed the meal set out on the plates beside you, desperately wanting to give in to his tempting ways. but instead, you looked out at the window as you gulped down the glass, seeing mason’s distressed face in the reflection.
but what you didn’t see, mainly because you felt his tail briskly touching the back of your leg, was jet seated in front of you. it seemed he was aware of the tension between you and mason, and it was his instinct to protect you. so that’s what he did — sitting in between you and mason.
but your boyfriend only disregarded the husky’s actions as what he usually did, and it was only before he started talking when it all made sense to him. “y/n, i’m sorry. i really am. can you turn around so i can—” mason started, only to be interrupted by jet barking at him.
you stilfled a smile, pretending you still had water left in your glass so you didn’t have to turn around, but loving how jet wasn’t letting mason finish. “as i was saying, can you—” and jet barked again, this time standing from his sitting position, looking slightly intimidating to mason. great, he thought. just great.
this time, you had to cover your mouth subtly, not going unnoticed by mason who furrowed his eyebrows, not knowing why you found it funny. “jet, just keep quiet a minute, okay? i’ll give you a biscuit later” mason said, desperately trying to reason with the dog, who only barked louder, moving to nudge mason’s arm as far away from you as he could.
that’s when mason realised, letting out a small “oh” as he bent down to stroke jet’s back. “forgot you’re the protective type for a moment” he whispered, giving him a small pat on the side before moving to you, now that jet was more relaxed.
“baby, please. turn around? i want to say sorry” he whispered, gently placing his hands on your hips. well when he did that, you couldn’t exactly ignore him. so you complied with him and turned around in his grips, but not looking at his face just yet.
he could see how tired you were, you were probably up all night waiting for him, and that nap didn’t make up for those hours. he felt guilty, and he hated how his girl was upset because of him. he used one hand to cup your jaw, lifting your head up so you would at him, the other hand still placed on your hip.
you slowly brought your gaze up at him, his brown eyes looking back into yours. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to forget about today, i’ve just had loads on my mind this week and i made plans with dec earlier on so i forgot and—” he bagn to ramble breathlessly, before you cut him off by placing a hand over his mouth.
he immediately stopped talking, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. why is everyone interrupting my apologies? he thought.
“it’s okay mase, really. i was just upset because i wanted to spend the day with you, but i do see you all the time so,” you shrugged with a genuine smile, resting your hands on his biceps. he slowly relaxed at the feeling of contact, pulling you closer to him.
he leant down, placing his forehead against you and enjoying the no longer awkward silence. you stayed like that for a moment before you were nudged apart by jet, who returned from his whereabouts. “what a cockblock” mason mumbled, watching you bend down to ruffle the dog’s fur.
you stood back up with a smile, brining your hand to mason’s face so you could softly caress his cheek. leaning into your touch, he looked at you, eyes full of love. then he looked down to your lips, leaning slightly towards you. you copied his actions, feeling his lips graze yours. how he loved being a tease, you always knew.
but he was quick to close the gap between you two, pressing your back carefully against the cold counter, arms gripping your waist. you deepened the kiss, arms snaking around his neck, wanting to savour the moment forever, before remembering what caught your eye when you entered the kitchen.
“come on, the food’ll get cold” you whispered against his lips as you broke away. he three his head back a bit, but placed his hand in yours, leading you to the table where candles and rose petals were decorated.
maybe it wasn’t a bad anniversary after all.
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katsuhera · 9 months ago
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paranoia
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pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader tw/warnings: nsfw (18+), dumbification, alcohol, some choking, some degradation, some cockwarming, canon au but not relevant to story, aged up characters (18) wc: 4k
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“paranoia, anyone?” kaminari asked, wriggling his eyebrows at the group. tonight was a chill drinking night, celebrating the start to summer vacation.
“ooh! i’m down,” mina exclaimed excitedly, clapping her hands together. you sat in the corner, just blissfully happy and quiet. you hadn’t drunk too much yet, but you could undoubtedly feel a light buzzing coursing throughout your veins, enough to make you just want to sit and recalibrate as everyone else moved animatedly around you.
“what’s that again?” kirishima asked, sipping his drink. “i forgot how to play, i think.”
“okay, okay, wait, let’s all sit in a circle,” kaminari started, waving his hands around. “it’ll be easier that way.”
“tch,” bakugou scoffed, a surly look on his face as kirishima forced him to scoot closer to the rest of the group. “do we have to? this is probably a shitty game.”
“relax, it’s fun, i swear,” mina assured him, her gentle hand on your shoulder encouraging you to scoot in closer as well. “one of my favorite drunk games! i promise.”
“okay, so here’s how we play,” kaminari said. “we go in a circle, like clockwise or counter-clockwise, whatever, and each person whispers a question to whoever’s next to them, and the answer has to be the name of someone in this room.”
“it sounds kind of complicated but you’ll understand once we play,” mina said. “so, for example, i’m sitting next to kirishima – i will ask him a question that only he can hear, like, ‘who has the coolest quirk?’ and he’ll say like ‘todoroki,’ or something, out loud for everyone to hear. and if todoroki wants to know what the question was, he has to take a shot, and then kirishima will expose the question.”
kaminari nodded, adding on: “it goes like that, but usually the questions get… spicy.” he smiled toothily, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint to them. “all questions are fair game! let’s not be mean, though.”
“let me grab some drinks, but you guys can get started!” mina said, getting up and heading off to the kitchen.
you glanced around the circle, giggling inwardly at how dazed iida and some of your other classmates seemed. iida in particular never really got around to drinking much, but when he did, he was predictably a lightweight.
everyone else seemed to be fine and vibing, and you curled your knees into your chest as you got comfortable, waiting for the game to start. drinking games were always fun with your class, especially when mina and the rest of their squad took control.
“who wants to go first?” kaminari asked, looking around.
“i can,” todoroki volunteered quietly, surprising everyone else.
“oh? bet, then go ahead and ask bakugo a question. we’ll go counter-clockwise, then,” kaminari piped up, getting up a little to help mina set the bottles of alcohol and plastic shot glasses down in the middle.
a hushed silence fell over the group as todoroki sat pensively, thinking of a question, before leaning in to bakugou’s grimacing face.
“what a stupid question,” bakugou snickered, and answered without missing a beat. “deku.”
everyone nearly snapped their necks to turn around and look at midoriya.
“do you want to know what the question was?” mina asked.
midoriya shook his head violently. “i think i’m good.”
bakugou sneered before cracking his neck and pausing to think of a question for kirishima.
“hurry up, bro,” kirishima teased, earning a scowl from bakugou.
“shut the fuck up,” he growled, leaning in to whisper his question.
you loved watching their best friend dynamic. bakugou was normally on everyone’s bad side, his antagonizing manner turning most people who met him off from interacting with him ever again. but with the way he interacted with kirishima, you knew that he probably had a softer side that he was either too embarrassed of or insecure to let on.
you felt your cheeks flush as you lost yourself in thought, staring at the redhead and the blonde – well, mostly the blonde, and the way his triceps flexed smoothly as bakugou leaned on his arm to get closer to kirishima.
“what are you staring at?” mina whispered excitedly in your ear. startled, you snapped your head to the side to look at her.
“nothing, nothing,” you murmured, embarrassed. if mina knew, you’d never hear the end of it.
“um...,” kirishima started, his pale cheeks flushed crimson as he prefaced his response to bakugou’s question. his eyes darted worriedly around the circle, lingering for a bit on jirou. “jirou… i think.”
jirou’s head immediately shot up from its cozy spot on kaminari’s shoulder, narrowing her eyes as she looked at kirishima. “shot,” she demanded, eliciting laughs from the group. mina poured one out for her and handed it over, giggling as jirou downed it easily, not even a hint of a wince on her face.
“what was the question?” she asked, looking straight at kirishima, making him blush even further.
“who here is…” his voice trailed off meekly.
“who here’s most likely to have a daddy kink,” bakugou grinned, his vermillion eyes glinting with amusement. “interesting… jirou, hah? i can see it.”
you smiled as you watched their interaction spiral – you’d never seen jirou more embarrassed in her life. kaminari watched on in mild amusement, though you could tell that the tips of his ears were also red.
interesting, maybe it is true, you mused to yourself. can’t blame her, though.
“my turn! ask me a question, kiri,” mina said, clapping her hands and sipping her drink.
kirishima paused in thought before covering his lips and her ear with his hand.
“stop!” mina laughed, gently slapping his shoulder. “you really asked me this knowing who i’d say?”
“yeah,” kirishima chuckled. “go on, say it.”
“mr. bakugou katsuki,” mina said, rolling her eyes. “you want a shot, right?”
“tch,” he responded, grabbing the bottle. “tell me the damn question.”
mina waited for the alcohol to make its way down his throat before she exposed herself.
“‘who here do i think will get married last?’”
“and you said me?” he asked, indignant. “oi, raccoon eyes–”
“oh my god, relax,” she replied offhandedly. “clearly it’s because you’re going to be the number one hero or whatever and you won’t have time for marriage. anyway, i get to ask y/n next!”
bakugou growled, but left it alone, choosing to sit and glower at her instead.
“i’ve got a good one,” mina smirked, and immediately you knew that you were in for a tricky question.
“who here would you fuck?” she whispered, giggling as she pulled away and watched for your reaction.
you knew it was coming. not necessarily to you, but you knew that question was coming. it’s always asked. you sighed, regretting not sitting next to deku or momo who probably would have gone easy on you with the questions.
good lord mina, you thought frustratedly, putting your palm to your forehead.
“i hate you,” you said, monotoned, much to mina’s glee. “i need a shot before i answer.”
“here you go, bestie!” she replied, immediately pouring one out for you.
everyone else looked on eagerly, murmuring as you downed the shot, making a face as the alcohol burned its way down your throat.
“damn, what kind of question needs a shot before getting answered?” kaminari asked aloud, watching you with wide eyes.
you took a deep breath, looking around the group and trying to decide on who to choose. but your actions were futile; for you, there was only one answer – and there had only ever been one answer, really.
“... bakugou,” you said finally, hesitating to make eye contact with him.
“oh?” he said, cocking an eyebrow. “shot, raccoon eyes.”
“i already poured one for you!” she said happily, handing it to him. within a second, his cup was empty.
“so? spit it out, y/n,” he grinned.
“who here… would i fuck,” you said the last word with finality, anticipating the hoots and chuckles you’d get from the group.
“this is such a lewd conversation,” iida interjected abruptly, waving his hands towards the middle of the circle. “we shouldn’t–”
“you’d fuck bakugou?” kaminari asked you, his eyes wide with shock. “why?”
“what do you mean?” you felt blood rush to your face, engulfing you in slight embarrassment as you actively tried to avoid the gleaming crimson eyes that were boring holes into the side of your skull.
“i can see it, i think,” momo said, smiling at you. you were sure that what she said was meant to be reassuring, but you weren’t so sure of how helpful it was at the moment.
“so, bakugou, got anything to say?” kirishima asked with a wink, slapping his friend’s shoulder.
he was uncharacteristically silent as the rest of your peers held their breath, waiting for his response.
“tch,” he started, eyes darting to yours. “just that i’m not surprised.”
you held his gaze somewhat defiantly, thanks to the alcohol. sober you would have cast your eyes down immediately, praying for the moment to be over.
“okay, okay! next, next – gotta keep the game moving,” mina said, not wanting you to have to stay in the spotlight for too long. “y/n, ask kaminari something.”
your mind was undeniably foggy with the way you could feel bakugou’s eyes burning into your head, and you weren’t even sure how you were able to come up with a question on the spot. you muttered something stupid about who would be most likely to get robbed, and thankfully, his answer and the following questions kept the game moving along smoothly.
as the night progressed, everyone found themselves drunker and more comfortable with each other, though the questions had definitely gotten spicier. as uraraka rested her head on midoriya’s lap and jirou found herself leaning into kaminari’s arm, you couldn’t help but smile at how cute they looked. your class had come a long way since your first year together.
“i’m going to pee,” you announced, getting up and wobbling as the alcohol rushed to your head.
“oh shit, are you good?” mina asked, getting up to try and stabilize you, despite not being too stable herself.
“yeah, yeah, i’m fine,” you said, waving her off. “bathroom’s right there, i’ll be good.”
you stumbled your way over, stepping delicately over kirishima’s legs as you cut through the circle.
you used your time in the bathroom alone to try and sober yourself up. the sensation of the running cold water on your skin seemed to wake you up, and you examined yourself in the mirror.
fuck… i’m drunk, you thought after a couple of moments, giggling at the realization. disheveled strands of hair framed your face, and your eyes stayed unfocused no matter how hard you tried to get them to focus. you sighed, thinking that that was the best it was going to get, accepting your probable future hangover.
you opened the door, wringing your hands dry when an unfamiliar hand grabbed at your wrist, swallowing it in its large palm.
“bakugou?” you gasped, startled. “what…? is something wrong?”
he continued to stare at you, his large figure slowly backing you up into the wall, his body encaging you.
“did you mean it?” he asked lowly.
“what?”
“don’t be stupid,” he said impatiently. “your answer to raccoon eyes’ question.”
oh.
“i…,” you spoke hesitantly. how the fuck were you even supposed to answer that? “yeah, i guess.”
“you ‘guess’? is that a yes or a no?” he stepped in closer, backing you impossibly closer into the wall. you cowered from his stare, his body suddenly seeming much larger than you’d ever noticed before.
“i mean, yeah, i would,” your voice came out small, despite all of the mock defiance you held in your stare just an hour prior. “happy?”
he paused, holding his breath and searching your face intently. his expression was unreadable; normally, his lips were pulled into a grimace – but now, they sat in a neutral position. his eyes were the only elements of his face that gave away some semblance of emotion.
“... yeah,” he replied finally. “you could say that.”
“huh?” you asked, confused.
“come,” bakugou replied simply, tugging at your wrist and heading for the bedrooms upstairs.
“what? where are we going?” you could barely keep up with his strides. “bakugou, they’ll notice if we’re gone–”
“let them,” he sneered. “everyone’s pretty much knocked out, anyway.”
your heart throbbed in your chest as you followed him up the stairs, still slightly shell-shocked by his actions.
there’s no way this is happening right now, you thought incredulously, the only thing grounding you being the feeling of his hand on your wrist. well, i guess i didn’t lie – i would fuck him, you thought, observing the way his back muscles rippled through his black tank top. you weren’t lying – you just never thought he’d take you up on it.
you rounded the corner, realizing suddenly that he was taking you to his room – his private, secluded room that no one in the class had so far had the privilege of seeing.
“your room, bakugou? what an honor,” you giggled teasingly.
“shut it,” he growled, but you knew that he was all bark and no bite at this point.
his pace was fast and before you knew it, you were already in his room, pushed up against his door with your wrists pinned against it as he towered over you.
“you should have said something earlier, princess, maybe this would have happened a long time ago,” he said, his breath hot on your neck.
you opened your mouth to respond, but were interrupted by his lips on yours, urgent and passionate.
his tongue danced with yours as your teeth gnashed slightly; the both of you were drunk and sloppy, falling into each other as you let your thoughts swirl into nothingness.
he pressed his hips forward into yours, and you gasped slightly at the feeling of his cock stiffening behind his sweats. automatically, you rolled your hips into his, eliciting a low groan from him.
“not gonna last very long if you keep doing that, princess,” he murmured against your lips.
“huh? aiming to be a pro hero and you can’t handle that?” you teased, but were swiftly cut off as his right hand circled your neck, his left finding purchase against the small of your back as he swiveled you around to toss you on his bed.
“oi, don’t test me,” bakugou said, immediately hovering over you, supporting himself with both hands on each side of you and his knee in between your thighs.
he leaned in to suck at your neck, his hand sliding under your shirt to grasp at your breast, rolling your pebbled nipple between his fingers.
a dull ache started to pulse in your core, and you could feel yourself getting wetter, soaking the thin panties you wore. it didn’t help that with his ministrations, bakugou pressed his knee harder into you, as if knowing that you were desperate for some friction.
you arched your back into his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck and trying to bring him closer to you.
“desperate slut,” he chuckled darkly, nipping at your neck. “you’re lucky i wanted this, too.”
“oh? is that a confession, bakugou?” you asked smugly.
“you wish,” he replied snarkily, fisting your shirt and tugging it up, exposing your breasts. he moved his head down, planting wet kisses across your chest while pulling your bra down, the soft flesh spilling out of the restraining fabric.
a light buzzing filled your body – anticipation mixed with alcohol, and your mind was blurry, unable to focus on a single thought at a time. you laced your fingers into his hair, tugging softly at the blonde locks as his tongue lapped gentle circles over your nipple.
he brought his other hand down to pull at the waistband of your sleep shorts, and you lifted your hips, making it easier for him. as his fingers met your clothed cunt, he laughed darkly, sending a shiver down your spine.
“this wet for me, princess?”
you inadvertently tried to close your thighs, an attempt to hide the unmistakable dark spot that had formed at the crotch of your panties.
“no no, don’t hide,” he crooned, dipping his finger below the waistband of the lace cloth. “where’s all the brattiness from earlier, hmm?”
“tch,” you scoffed, tugging harder at his hair as you were at a loss of words.
smoothly, he pulled the fabric down, a low moan falling from his throat as he watched the string of slick that connected you to your panties.
slowly, he glided a finger up your entrance, gathering your arousal on it before shoving it into your mouth, forcing you to clean it off. he watched each and every one of your movements – like a hawk watching its prey.
not wanting to be the only one exposed, you moved your hand down to tug gently at his sweats, silently asking him to take them off. he listened, removing them easily and throwing his sweats and boxers across the room.
“you look so fucking pretty under me, you know that?” he asked, enamored by the way your cheeks hollowed out as you sucked his finger clean. “wish we could have done this earlier.”
he slapped his cock on your cunt teasingly before sliding the swollen head up and down your entrance, eliciting small whines from you. you’d never felt more needy in your life – just the mere feeling of his cock near your pussy drove you nearly insane with want, the desire to be filled up.
without warning, he pushed the head in, grinning at the gasp you emitted.
“fuck!” you breathed, eyebrows furrowed as you felt yourself already having to stretch to accommodate him.
“i’ve barely even done anything,” he responded, his grin growing even cockier. slowly, he pushed further inside you, holding back his own moans as he felt your fleshy walls clench around him. “fuck, you’re fucking tight though, princess.”
it burned for a second before the pain dissipated, and you found yourself craving more. you rolled your hips into his again, needing movement.
“tch,” he said, feeling your hips grind into his. “so needy.”
he pulled out slowly before thrusting into you again, hard and fast, ignoring the mewls and whines that had started to bubble up your throat.
you couldn’t even bring yourself to speak, so preoccupied were you with the sensation of being so, so full that you couldn’t form coherent thoughts.
with each thrust of his hips, your breasts bounced enticingly, causing bakugou to chew the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from showing any sign of vulnerability. but it was too difficult – you were just so pretty, a fucked-out mess underneath him.
the sound of skin slapping skin filled the air, to the point where you were sure that if any of your friends on the floor below listened closely enough, they could figure out what was happening.
“baku-gou, too l-loud,” you gasped, trying to choke out the words despite the pace at which he was going.
“so? they’re just extras, let them hear,” he growled, pounding into you particularly hard for good measure.
you couldn’t hold back your moans any longer, all of them spilling out at once, falling upon his ears like music.
“god- fuck, bakugou,” you panted, your nails leaving angry red marks on his back.
wordlessly, he moved a finger to your clit, rubbing small circles into it, sending jolts of pleasure through you.
your legs spasmed around him, and you wrapped them tightly around his hips, slowing his movements but unable to fully stop them. you were dangerously approaching your orgasm, and you could feel your vision start to glaze over – the only thing you could make out was the image of his eyes, red and shining, staring at you, as if willing you to cum.
your nails dug crescent-shaped marks into his flesh as you approached the edge. “‘m gonna c-cum,” you managed, creasing your forehead in concentration.
he pressed his finger harder into your puffy clit, his strokes becoming longer and more deliberate.
“yeah? then go ahead and cum, princess.”
waves of hot ecstasy rolled over you, pure bliss washing your mind blank of any thoughts. bakugou’s own hips stuttered as you clenched around him, convulsing as you rode out your orgasm.
“christ, y/n, feels so fucking good,” he muttered, letting you ride it out for a bit longer before he flipped you onto your stomach, fisting your hair.
“ah!” you cried out, your walls still fluttering around him despite the pain you felt from your scalp.
he pressed a palm into your lower back, forcing you into a deeper arch as he started to pound into you again, his head lolling back in pleasure.
bakugou couldn’t get enough of the way your ass bounced with each thrust, and he grabbed onto your left hip for support, starting to quicken his pace.
“mmnh–, more, bakugou,” you pleaded, your eyes rolling back as your tongue peeked through your parted lips. you gave up on trying to think – you gave in entirely to him.
“more? fucking slut,” he said, but in truth, your mewls and moans went straight to his dick, forcing him closer and closer to his own threatening climax.
you’d started to back your ass into him, too, matching his pace, and it was nearly too much for him to bear.
“shit,” he hissed. “‘m gonna cum, princess.”
“inside, please–!” you gasped, desperate to feel yourself filled to the brim with his cum.
that was enough for him, and he let go, shooting white hot spurts of cum into you, painting your walls white with his seed.
he cursed, feeling his cock twitch inside of you as it softened, despite the way you continued to clench around him, sucking up all of his cum and refusing to let go.
you whined as he pulled out, the sensation of cool air suddenly surrounding your pussy making you sensitive. bakugou watched, entranced, as trickles of cum oozed out from your entrance before he stuffed some back in with his finger.
gently, he helped you onto your back and flopped to your side, quiet, pensive. you lay catching your breath, but suddenly felt the urge to cover yourself up.
as if he could read your mind, he got up and got dressed, leaving the room.
is that… it? you thought, suddenly apprehensive. you, too, wanted to get dressed, but the trickle of cum making its way down your legs was too uncomfortable.
within seconds, bakugou re-entered the room, a wet rag in hand.
“you’re back?” you asked, wide-eyed.
“what? yeah, i left to get this,” he responded, confused and holding up the rag. “did you think i’d leave you like this?”
“... dunno,” you responded, a little taken aback.
he knelt by the bed, cleaning you up gently and sliding your panties back up your legs.
you’d started to become more clearheaded, despite the alcohol still buzzing throughout your system.
“i didn’t know you wanted this, too,” you said quietly, after a few pauses of silence. briefly, you wondered if you would have had the courage to be so honest if not for the alcohol.
“... i always did,” he responded, averting his gaze and instead shifting his attention to finding your shorts.
your heart beat wildly in your chest as you watched his face, pale with a rosy tint to his cheeks, his handsome features illuminated by the moonlight that peeked through his curtains.
“really?”
“yes, shitty woman,” he grunted, evoking a little giggle from you as he finally seemed back to his usual, grumpy self. “‘cause i fucking like you, y/n. got it?”
he what?
did you hear him correctly? you blinked rapidly, your breath hitching in your throat as he made eye contact with you, his stare intense and piercing.
when you didn’t respond, he looked down, embarrassed.
“you don’t have t–”
“i like you, too,” you responded quickly, hoping that he’d look at you again. “for a while, actually.”
bakugou hesitated before getting up and sitting on the edge of the bed. he reached his hand out, stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb, leaning in to press a light kiss to your forehead.
“sleep here tonight?”
you smiled, butterflies fluttering about in your stomach.
“of course.”
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planetport · 10 days ago
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[Birthday Special]: Cockcrow, Park Chaewon - Gowon.
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Dim slivers of sunlight are opaque to the curtains occluding them. In which, the alarm on your bedside desk blares loudly to make a groan escape your throat. It isn’t exactly functional, you notice; rather the opposite.  It was supposed to ring at 7:46, such a specific time. Yet it blared loudly at a stressing 3:46 p.m., what a bother. Shifts in the sheets signal someone else’s realization, and the sun finally invades your room as, “good morning.” Chaewon’s eyes connect with yours. In an instant, her arms wrap around your body and her thighs do the same to yours. Sad to say, remnants of used condoms from last night still scatter the sheets, it’s only a bad thing because both of your mind’s carry the idea of adding more. Or so, maybe you’ll just relax for today. On the couch, a bowl of ice cr— no, winter’s just around the corner, boil a steamy pot of hot water. Hot chocolate is a virtue with this temperature. But scratch hot chocolate from that list, Chaewon quickly stuffs your dick inside her again, a wheezy moan. “Hmm, that feels nice. Stay like this for a while, just… just fuck it into me for a moment. Or, or umm. You know, leave it hanging. Whichever you prefer.” 
You’d chuckle if Chaewon didn’t clamp so harshly on your length. “Pff, I’m trying to be parthenogenetic, Chae.” You’re surprised your brain could still murmur  that word through the system.
“Damn, your brain could still function enough for you to say such a woooooor- fuuuuuck, mmm.” Chaewon’s eyes roll into her head when you thrust. And since her thigh rests on yours, body turned towards each other, the spot you hit is usually unidentifiable. “Holy shit that’s it, right there baby.” It’s so early in the morning and your eyes still have scattered crumbs of sleep. Blurriness in your vision. The motion of your hips is just a fraction of legitimate thrusting, yet there’s a moan that drags out into a breathless whimper. And a throb from you in kind. “Fuck I still feel your cum on my thighs…” Chaewon takes a pause as you take a pause. Reactivate your rhythm. “It’s so slimy.”
Your hot breath fans her reddened ears, the musky  scent of sex flows through the air to make it humid. And even though your hips are secant, Chaewon rolls her waist in circles to feel that satisfaction. “Damn, Chaewon. I’m barely full again.” But there’s never not enough cum stored in your balls. “And you’re so fucking wet.”
Chaewon giggles a bit. “You think so? I have so many butterflies in my stomach…” 
“Do you? You like it when I,” angle your hips and thrust, “ do that?” Chaewon’s moans subside into cute little grunts, and you don’t notice her hands forcing you onto your back; and she straddles you with your dick still buried inside. You don’t object with how stalwart she is in riding you, and as much as you enjoy those cute little grunts in your ear; the wringing of her clenching pussy is out to choke the unbreathable. Blatant smacks on your pelvis reside with the nails digging in your chest.
Chaewon arrests her momentum and looks at the flashing clock on your desk. “Holy shit, I didn’t know it was that late.” Her pussy basically seals shut when she gets off your cock. 
“Huh?” 4:36. “Oh… no big deal, right?”
Chaewon snatches your sweatpants in the process of walking out of the room.
Her perky tits shine as she suffuses the curtains to add a shimmering shine to the environment of your living room, she doesn’t care about her nudity being seen, it seems. Orange and red leaves subtract green from its color spectrum, a dazzling mixture of crinkled and freshly dropped.
You hug her from behind, softening cock coming back to life after scraping pass Chaewon’s soft flesh. Your hands rub her belly and she nuzzles within your embrace. “You can fuck me right here. Buuuut, I have to go.” Not necessarily, it’s mainly just sitting in a meeting for fifty minutes, and you’d enjoy eating her out at the time anyway. “Either way, Daddy is going to be so good to me.” Rub your nape, her fingers dance on your nude form. “You’re so sexy, I wish I could ruin myself on this thick cock right here.” Even though Chaewon smirks, you notice the gleam in her eyes. Oh, she’s more than serious.  
The outline of her ass shows as she walks to her office… Well, it’s more of a gaming setup.
You wait for a moment, letting her attend the meeting. Or maybe she’s changing the clothing she had on; superfluous jeans always match her pink blouse. Silky smooth. You love that one, she knows.
The office’s air is more humid than the bedroom’s, evident from the weak streaks of slick on your portrait that rests beside the monitor; on the beach, hat tipped. Shirt missing. Enough to get Chaewon off, it seems.
The door creaks and Chaewon shushes you as you close it. Oops. Pucker your lips to flaunt a pout, Chaewon puckers her lips to flaunt her alabaster thighs. Huh, your cum is slimy on her thighs. She motions under the desk. Well, really no reason to decline such an offer, and your head sucks under the desk as a woman’s voice audibly asks what that bang was; it was your head colliding with the edge of the table. You're scared to hurt Chaewon’s career, yet the only thing that’s hurt is your pride.
Underneath the desk holds barely anything, besides a candy wrapper and cords which hurt your ankles as they bend. Ouch. Chaewon doesn’t have on pants either, so I guess underneath the table holds a sweet snack as well.
Scoot up a bit, try not to hit your head, spot the grey sweatpants carelessly thrown in a corner of the room, Chaewon’s pussy drips with slick and old cum.
“Yes ma’am— mama!” Chaewon says in a muffled shout of pleasure.
“What was that Ms. Park?” the woman asks, the speaker is a bit quiet so Chaewon’s heavy breaths are  vociferous to your ears. 
“Huh? Oh! Uhhh, my mother texted me,” she responds, almost strained.
Your tongue strokes in an aloft cadence, residues left on your muscle. “Tastes like candy canes on Christmas.” Actually; tastes a bit like salty, caramelized popcorn on a lazy Friday, but you don’t speak it up. Instead, you enjoy the aroma of Chaewon’s pussy. Not like you can’t do it again later, but it’s always something that should be appreciated.
She hooks her legs into your shoulders and scoots the chair further until her abdomen touches the desk.
“Everything okay, Ms. Park?”
“Erm… yes. I- I forget to put on the right attire.”
“Huh? Really? But your blouse looks just fine.”
“N- no ma’am. My pants aren’t appropriate for this meeting. Umm, shall I change?”
Nice try.
“Aww no it’s alright, we've already started.”
 The next thirty minutes is just Chaewon’s steady streams of whimpers, going with the excuse of having a cramp in the lower half of her body. It’s pretty believable, since she squirms like an untamed snake. Your tongue slathers the same. Hiss. The taste is immaculate.
A key on the keyboard is mushed aggressively.
“I’m cumming!” And she showers your face with surging liquid, quite literally. Warm to the touch, yet cold from the AC’s air. You should turn that off, it’s pretty cold in here.
You doubt her brain can murmur such multi-lettered words.
At least close the curtains in the living room.
And stop that damn alarm.
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[a/n]: Happy Gowon Day! Sorry I couldn’t do better on this one, but it’s more then 1,200 words so meh. There will be more in the future anyway! Masterlist
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She’s a charm.
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pisces-in-pink · 5 months ago
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Astro Observations 🪐
🌙 moon conjunct midheaven/ascendant individuals are always really animated and emotive, and they make for great performers. madonna, post malone, dolly parton and kate winslet have this aspect.
🌞 t/w i’ve noticed that celebrities who have mercury/jupiter/moon in aspect to pluto tend to have mental health problems and are more predisposed to be victims of s*ic*de :(
⭐️ people with jupiter conjunct mars tend to have lots of people speculate on their sex life/ sexuality. daniel howell is a prime example of this.
🌙 water and fire grand tribes tend to be beautiful musicians and writers. whitney houston, stephen king and kurt cobain have them.
🌞 venus-chiron natives can have inferiority complexes.
⭐️ it’s been said before but lilith-ascendant people are almost constantly over sexualised/have body image issues. or they can become a sex symbol depending on the dignity of the aspect. marilyn monroe is an example.
🌙 neptune-mercury natives are very prone to maladaptive daydreaming. they can also be great writers. taylor swift is a perfect example, it’s especially evident in folklore and evermore.
🌞 moon-pluto aspects tend to be VERY manipulative and can have a very close or very distant relationship with their mothers. my dad has this lmao.
⭐️ negative venus-saturn aspects indicates having to wait a long time to find a healthy relationship.
🌙 i don’t know why but cancer sun women are such hilarious people. love u <3
🌞 12h lilith natives can develop escapism issues, or can be prone to substance abuse. or they can have weird sexual fantasies that they never express out loud. elton john who was a cocaine addict and alcoholic for years has this.
⭐️ north node or jupiter in the 4th can indicate childhood fame or prominence. billie eilish has both.
🌙 venus in the 6th love doing small things for their friends and partners. this could be things like making them bracelets or texting them good morning, small things to show their love. it’s an underrated placement imo.
🌞 for some reason all the “popular” kids in my school had aries or libra suns
⭐️ saturn in the 1h can often be quite tall and skinny. either that or they’re shy.
🌙 jupiter on the descendant can have many lovers or very public relationships. taylor swift (love her) is a PERFECT example of this placement.
🌞 mercury-pluto aspects or pluto in the 2h can have really beautiful voices. they make great singers.
⭐️ aquarius mercury natives have a knack for deductive reasoning. sherlock holmes vibes.
🌙 libra risings tend to have tons of other libra rising friends. i’m a libra rising and 70% of my close friends are all libra risings (or moons)
🌞 moon in the 9h individuals can be backpackers and vagabonds. very freedom loving. lana del rey has this and it’s optimised in her “ride” music video.
⭐️ uranus in the 8th house can indicate a sudden and shocking death. princess diana, heath ledger and marilyn monroe all have this.
🌙 planets conjunct the ic are not talked about enough. it can give you massive insight into somebody’s chart.
🌞 saturn in the 10h or 1h are said to be bad placements but they can make extremely successful and highly respected individuals if developed.
⭐️ venus in gemini can be kinda promiscuous lol. not necessarily sexually but they can be in the “talking stage” with 10 people at once then just ghost them.
🌙 sagittarius jupiter’s make for very funny drunk people
🌞 siblings tend to share the same moon sign as one of their parents. i’m a middle child and me and my sister have libra moons like our dad, while my younger brother has a scorpio moon like my mom.
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aquamarinescarlet · 5 months ago
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We can’t have everything
Pairing: Professor!Wanda Maximoff x Student!Reader
Word count: ~8.8k
Warnings: high school AU (reader is 18 though), fluff, angst, small mention of religion, implied smut
Summary: Wanda Maximoff challenges your patience every week during philosophy class, now it’s your turn.
Author’s note: So I over-thought this story waaaaay too much, I considered not posting it several times, but I really liked it so here it is. Let me know what you think, and enjoy!
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Liberty consists in doing what one desires.
That’s what John Stuart Miller used to say. The english philosopher might’ve explained the main reason why humanity desires liberty so much, and why we can never have it.
Consider liberty as being a synonym to freedom. Everyone desires freedom, praises that it is the definition of living, freedom walks hand in hand with success, with happiness. In theory, that is a great line of thinking, and not necessarily wrong, just utopic.
No one is willing to deal with the consequences of total and complete freedom. After all, we’ve never experienced total and complete freedom before, not a single living soul. There are laws we must follow, laws that control our freedom, mould it to the best way of controlling us.
How would the world be with total freedom? No economic laws that define how money and basic exchange of products work, no juridical laws that punish those who risk other people’s safety, no social laws leveling the general understanding of human interaction, not even physics laws that rule the entirety of the universe. Do we know what a life without these would be like? Are we willing to figure it out?
“... Ms. Y/L/N?” You turned your attention to the professor, not feeling even slightly uncomfortable by the sudden attention.
“What was that, Ms. Maximoff?” She would’ve rolled her eyes if she could, but held herself back for the sake of professionalism.
“I was asking if you’d like to give us your opinion on the matter since you seem to be so deep in thought, certainly you have something interesting to say.”
“I wasn’t thinking about the topic of discussion, in fact, I’m not even aware of what that would be.”
Professor Maximoff was hands down your favourite professor to piss off, and that was simply because, different from the others, she was stubborn, she never cut you mid discussion, she’d let you take it till the end, no matter how mad or humiliated she got. It was fun.
You always had a bad reputation amongst the professors, being the most hated kind of student anyone could have, the one who always messes around, doesn’t pay attention and is always disrupting the class, but somehow does well in school and never gets an answer wrong no matter how little attention you were actually paying.
After you moved for a year to Brasil, where your parents are originally from, you were held back a grade, and since all your friends already graduated, and your new classmates are a big bore, all that was left was to pick on the professors, and you had a lot of fun doing it. Boarding school can always be full of pricks.
“Mr. Jansen was just pointing out that if we suppose there’s a God responsible for the creation of humanity, and we’re all made in his image, then man is born good and society corrupts us.” She explained.
Man is born good, interesting intake.
“And I assume Ms. González defends that man is born evil and all goodness comes from morals that are bestowed upon us by religion.” You pointed out.
Man is born evil, another interesting opinion.
“So you were paying attention,” there wasn’t even a hint of surprise in her tone.
“Just stating the obvious.” Those two always disagree on debates like this.
“Then what is your take on this?”
“My take is that no matter what take you have on this you’ll always come back to the same problem.”
“That would be…,” she urged you to continue.
“That if God was, in fact, responsible for creation, and he and evil coexist, then he’s either not omnipotent, or he’s not as good as it is believed.” Of course your words erupted a few murmurs from the most religious kids in class, which Ms. Maximoff was quick to shut down.
“Continue,” she said, with some curiosity, once silence settled again.
“If evil exists then either God isn’t powerful enough to get rid of it, hence him not being omnipotent, or he can do it he just doesn’t want to, making him an accomplice to the pain it causes to humanity, not so good on his part is it?”
“Evil is inflicted on us by Satan.” Otto Jansen countered.
“Ah, then God is not omnipotent since he can’t overpower Satan, see we go back to the same problem.”
“Alright Ms. Y/L/N, but in the christian religion it is viewed that the Earth is some sort of, middle plane, a test, of sorts, to decide what’ll happen to you in the afterlife. Doesn’t that cancel out your statement?” Discussing with your peers was fun, but it was a blast when Ms. Maximoff added her own opinion to it, and when it involves you, she always does.
“Quite on the contrary, you can even approach that in two different ways. If this is some kind of purgatory, so it can be decided if each individual person is good or bad, it leaves space for you to assume that man is born either evil or good, and if we’re all made in God’s image, then that leaves open the possibility that there’s evil in God himself.”
New grunts of disapproval, which only fueled your confidence.
“And the other approach?”
“Right,” you almost forgot, “why would God need a purgatory in the first place? Assuming heaven does exist, it is a perfect plane where there’s no evil. So if something like that can exist, why does he need a middle plane in which both good and evil coexist? Did he make man in his image, which contains evil somehow, and now he needs to figure out who can fight the evil and who succumbs to it? Or is he not powerful enough to make all men good?”
The room fell dead silent. Mrs. Maximoff was considering your words carefully, unable to hide the anger in her face. You had just completely destroyed the point of her debate by turning it all towards a problem with no clear solution.
A quick glance to the clock showed there were only a few seconds for the bell to go off, so you decided to fill that silence and close your line of thinking.
“What I’m saying is, when looking at this from the perspective of religion, the real question is not whether man was born good or evil, it’s if God is not omnipotent or not all that good.”
Perfect timing. You started to pack your things as everyone started to make their way out of the class. Soon enough only you and Ms. Maximoff were left.
“You could pay more attention to class y’know.”
“Why? Weren’t my remarks good enough for you?” You retorted.
“You didn’t answer the question.” She sent you a subtle glance.
“I thought we were supposed to defend our point of view,” you said while walking towards the exit, “I think that’s exactly what I did.” You didn’t leave her time to respond, only hearing a huff coming from the classroom.
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As much as you hated school, you also hated missing classes, it gave them ammunition to punish you. So you ran, your bedroom being on the other side of the building, hoping you’d make it on time.
You didn’t. Although that was not surprising, you had, in fact, woken up almost 20 minutes after class had already started, only a miracle or a wormhole that took you back in time could’ve saved you.
Standing by the closed door to philosophy class, you had an idea. Not a good one, but it’d have to do for now.
The room where Ms. Maximoff taught, just like all the others, had windows. On the other hand, it was on the second floor, thankfully your tree climbing skills were up to date. Your backpack was light, making the whole process much easier, what made it difficult was when Otto looked out the window, almost catching you.
Expertly you made your way to the branch which gave you access to the very back of the class. If it was full you’d be able to sneak in without calling attention to yourself. And you were successful, for the first few steps, being careful to not make any noise, slightly crouching down… it was all useless when Ms. Maximoff finished her speech.
“Ah, Ms. Y/L/N, how nice of you to join us.” You stopped dead on your track, shutting your eyes closed at your failed attempt. “Do you have any morals?”
That was a weird question, nonetheless you straightened yourself, turning towards the woman, acting like being caught hadn’t affected you at all.
“Oh, I see we’re back to the same topic of last week.”
“How so?”
“Well, discussing morality takes us back to the very point of ‘are humans born good and further corrupted, or are they born evil?” All the attention turned to you.
“Very good, you still didn’t answer my question though, do you have any morals?”
“Don’t we all?”
“I don’t know, you sneak into the classroom late knowing that it’s against the rules.” Fair point, although uncalled for.
“You’re a constructivist then.” You pointed out, matter of factly.
“What leads you to believe that?” She questioned curiously
“You don’t believe I have morals, or at least you consider the possibility, which leads me to assume that you don’t believe we are born with morals, they are given to us.”
“And what do you believe?”
You thought about it for a few seconds, her intense gaze making you nervous and somewhat confident.
“I believe all points of view are problematic.”
“Enlighten us.” She urged you on.
“Constructivists believe that morality is a result of evolution, basically we have morals due to our commitments towards society, but if that’s so, how did morality come to exist in the first place? Society wasn’t there since the beginning of time, it was created, so this line of thinking proposes that morality was created too, but how? And by whom?”
“So you’re saying that humans would have to be born with morals?” Robyn Byrne, another one of your classmates, pitched.
“Not quite, that’s what the realists believe, but that has some problems of its own. Think about it, if humans are born with morals, how did they acquire them? And what are they? Are they different from person to person? Because from what we can observe, my morals are clearly different from Ms. Maximoff’s,” you mocked, earning a glare from the professor.
You paused, pleased with the silence that took over the room, no one knew how to counter your argument. Yet again you had put an end to one of Ms. Maximoff’s debates.
“Thank you for your input Ms. Y/L/N. You can go now.” She gestured towards the door and you gave her a confused look.
“Excuse me?”
“You were late for my class, and according to my morals, it is against the rules, so you’ll have to leave.” She explained with the most annoying victorious grin you had ever seen.
You grunted in defeat and walked out of the room. Thankfully this was her last class before Winter break, and you couldn’t wait to get a break from this place and spend your quick vacation sunbathing on the beautiful beaches in Rio de Janeiro.
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“It’s fine mom, I’m fine.” You tried to reassure her through the phone.
“I know you’re not, you don’t have to lie to me.”
“Of course I’m not fine, I’ll miss the period of application to college in Brazil. Now I’ll have to wait a whole year, even more if I don’t get in,” you let out all your frustrations.
“I’m sorry Y/N/N,” the pity in her voice somehow made it all worse.
Going to the same college your father attended had been your dream since you were very young. That dream was crushed momentarily when your mother was transferred and you had to move countries, but you devised a plan to make it work. The universe seemed to be playing against you, and now you had to watch it all crumble down again.
“There’s no point in crying about it,” you shrugged, not wanting to spend anymore time on the subject, “there’s a storm coming, my flight was cancelled…” you trailed off.
Not only was it killing you to miss your chance in Brazil, but it was unnerving that you were stuck in school for christmas and new year. The worst part being that everyone had already left, everyone but half a dozen professors, and you. Safe to say you weren’t looking forward to being stuck with them for two whole weeks. But as you said, there was no point in reminiscing on it since there was nothing you could do.
“I’m so sorry,” she sounded genuine, even over the phone, “we’ll make it up to you.” You chuckled softly at how sweet she was being.
“Don’t worry mom, it’s not your fault, plus I don’t think there’s any way to ‘make up’ for this,” your tone exuded confidence, “I’ll be fine, I can even go to college here,” you tried to sound excited but your mother’s silence proved you weren’t fooling anyone. “Worst comes to worse and I’ll just play pranks on the professors that stayed behind too,” you joked trying to lighten the mood.
“Behave,” she warned, although you could hear slight giggling on the other side of the line.
“Bye, mom.”
“Bye, I’ll try to call you tomorrow, okay?”
“Sure.” You hung up and walked back to your room, passing through the empty hallways.
Once there, you let your body fall back on your bed in frustration. You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, you wanted to break every piece of furniture inside your room. It was going to be two very long weeks. A knock on the door didn’t give you too much time to think about that.
“Hey dear,” the old woman greeted, opening the door.
“Hey, Mrs. Chren.” Your math professor.
“I just came here to warn you that me, Mrs. Song,” your music professor, ironic isn’t it?, “Mr. Avery, Mr. Griffin and Mrs. Breman are going to town for a few hours, gotta sort out some things before the storm hits, so you’ll be alone for a couple of hours,” you stared at her blankly, “or you could come if you like-”
“Oh, no, Mrs. Chren,” you spilled, already enjoying the idea of being by yourself, “that’s alright, I can survive for a few hours,” you both laughed lightly.
“Alright, here’s my phone number,” she set a piece of paper on the desk, “call me if you need anything, and keep an eye on the telephone down the hall, I’ll call you there if we have any delays.”
That phone was the only way to communicate with the rest of the world, the school being too isolated for your cell phone to get any signal, and no wifi was available since they wanted the students to do their research in books rather than the internet. So, basically, you were completely out of reach but for that one old piece of technology, which was shared amongst everyone.
“Okay, have fun,” you pitched and she thanked you before leaving.
Half an hour later and you finally had the whole place to yourself, so you decided to do all the things you couldn’t do when someone was watching. It was better to have some fun than to spend the rest of those weeks moping around.
You blasted music on your portable speaker while walking around the building. First things first, look into other people’s rooms, you’re nosy and curious, what else could you do?
And it was the best idea. Some of the rooms were locked for these two weeks, but others weren’t and you made some interesting discoveries. Like the fact that the quietest boy in your grade has a huge bag of condoms hidden in his drawer. Or that the girl that claims to hate sports has a football magazine under her bed.
Of course there was also the classic booze and cigarettes hidden away, which wasn’t a surprise, and a hell lot of dirty socks. What is it with these people and not doing their laundry?
The sound of the phone going off in the distance startled you, but you quickly recovered, turning off the music and rushing to answer it.
“Hello.”
“Hi, Y/L/N, it’s Mrs. Song.” She sounded nervous.
“Everything okay?”
“Not quite, it seems like the storm is coming earlier than expected, they closed all the roads which means we’re stuck here in town until further notice.” You took a second to let the information sink in, but she took your silence as incentive to continue. “Anyways, we’re going to stay at a hotel here in the area, and will try to get back as soon as possible. But I’m afraid it’ll be a few days until then.”
“Oh.” Was the only thing you could think of.
“Y/L/N?”
“Yeah, sorry, that’s fine, I have food and a central heating system, so I’ll be fine, are you guys going to be okay though?” You really didn’t know what else to say.
“Of course, don’t worry about us, just be safe and don’t go outside, we’ll keep in contact if you need anything, okay?”
“That’s great, good luck there Mrs. Song.”
“You too dear.”
You couldn’t decide if that was good news or bad news. On one hand you could do whatever you wanted and not have your professors calling you out on everything all the time, plus there would be no dealing with awkward meals just the six of you. On the other hand you would be alone in this huge building for days with mostly nothing to do, it could get lonely.
“Well, gotta make the best of the situation,” you said to no one in particular.
With that idea in mind, you ran back to your room taking out something you’ve had hidden in your room for a few months. A skateboard. Strategically placed on the back of your dressing drawer. How you sneaked that in without anyone noticing was a question you didn’t have the answer for.
You and your friends would always find a way to take your skateboards and rollerblades into town, they did have a great lane there. This was before they graduated, now you had expected to do it again, but never found anyone who’d be willing to risk getting caught and slowly you lost interest in doing it all on your own.
But being all alone was the perfect opportunity to take it for a ride. You couldn’t go outside but the long empty hallways were a perfect place to do just that.
So you did, unbothered by the storm going at full force outside. Unnaturally loud music blasting on your speakers while you sang along, trying different tricks or just trying to go the fastest possible on the smooth wooden floor of the old building.
The next chain of events happened way too fast for you to register. You were speeding down the hallway on your skateboard, which was darker than usual for that time of day, a bird hit a window right as you passed by it, a loud bang echoed through the place and a dark figure suddenly appeared in front of you.
Losing completely your balance, you tripped and, due to the speed, was thrown a few feet across the floor.
“Are you okay?” You were barely able to hear the voice approaching you since music was still playing on the speaker.
You were quick to turn it off, turning to the person in question.
“Jesus fucking christ, are you trying to kill me?” You said, trying to calm your rapidly beating heart as Ms. Maximoff knelt beside you.
“You did set yourself up to get hurt.” She stated referring to all the rules you were breaking.
She helped you sit up, a stinging pain shooting through your shoulder.
“Well, I wasn’t really expecting anyone,” just then your mind caught up with the fact that she was here, when she wasn’t supposed to be, “shouldn’t you be, like, miles away from here?”
“Ouch,” she feigned offense, but you didn’t care, between spending days in there alone or having to be stuck with her you’d rather be alone, “my flight got cancelled, I was lucky to get here now, or I’d die frozen in that storm.”
“I thought the roads were closed.”
“I was already halfway through when I heard on the radio they were closing everything, I thought it would be better to keep going than to turn around.”
“You should’ve turned around,” you weren’t sure if you said that for her good or your own.
“Why do you say that?” She tried to hide the disappointment in her voice, but you caught it.
“Don’t get me wrong, but the other professors are all stuck in town until they reopen the roads, and there’s nothing much to do here.” You tried to get up, but the pain on your shoulder didn’t let you.
“You’re here, we can keep each other company.”
She helped you up, and you begrudgingly accepted.
“And what are we going to do? Debate the morals and ethics of all the rules I’m breaking?” Your tone laced with sarcasm.
“I’m also a human being y’know, not only a philosophy teacher.”
“Oh, really? And here I was thinking you were a robot sent by the government to alienate us students.” That logic didn’t even make sense, but your mind wasn’t able to think straight with the pain and the shock of the whole situation.
She stood in silence, almost analyzing you. Being under her gaze like that made you uncomfortable, and yet you couldn’t move, your legs not wanting to obey your brain. So you stared back at her instead.
The sound of the telephone going off again broke the contest.
“Yeah?”
“Hey Ms. Y/L/N, it’s Mrs. Chren, just calling to see how you’re doing.” The voice answered on the other side of the line.
Your eyes fell on your professor, and since you weren’t really in the mood to talk you decided to pass this on to the woman who had disrupted your peace.
“Great! Actually, Ms. Maximoff is here.”
“She is?”
“Got here a few minutes ago.”
“Oh my, let me talk to her then.”
You passed the phone to her, and turned around looking for your skateboard and speaker. Thankfully the fall hadn’t caused any damage to either of the items, now your shoulder would be a completely different story, hopefully it would be better after a good night of sleep.
Since you weren’t paying any attention to the call, you didn’t see Ms. Maximoff had approached you and almost jumped at the sound of her voice.
“She said the storm might create some energy problems, so we’ll probably lose communication with them.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t.”
With that you ran off to your room, locking yourself in there. You didn’t see her for the rest of that day.
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You also managed to avoid her for the next day and half of the one after that. But that couldn’t go on for much longer.
“What are you doing?” You asked, walking into the kitchen and seeing Ms. Maximoff cooking something on the stove. Your nostrils being immediately invaded by a delicious smell.
“Lunch. It’s almost ready.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to do this.” Her being nice really wasn’t helping your hate for her.
“I don’t mind, I like to cook,” she turned towards you, “I know you’re not very fond of me, but I won’t let you starve because of that.”
You didn’t know how to respond. It was a nice gesture and a very out-of-the-blue confession. Maybe not a confession, but a statement. Sensing your silence she focused back on the pan still cooking.
“Why though?” The question startled you.
“What?”
“Why don’t you like me? I would risk it’s because I kicked you out of class last week, but I feel like it’s been going on for longer than that.” Her voice was firm, sure of her words, although her body language said the complete opposite. How she kept shifting her weight from one leg to the other, playing with her hair, you couldn’t see her face but you could sense she was dreading the answer.
“Don’t you hate me?” She stopped completely, considering your question before turning back towards you.
“Why would I?”
“Everyone does, at least all the professors do,” that fact didn’t affect you, you had given them reason to hate you.
“Well, I don’t,” she kept her eyes locked on yours, “you didn’t answer my question.”
“Why do you care?” You re-assumed your classic nonchalant demeanor, taking a seat on the kitchen table.
She didn’t say anything as she served you both a plate of pasta with tomato sauce. Slowly you brought a forkful of it to your mouth, mindlessly moaning at the taste of it.
“Holy shit this is amazing,” she smiled shyly, looking down at her own plate and you quickly felt self conscious about your actions.
Could she blame you? How did she turn such a simple dish into something so good?
“Thanks,” she replied, still avoiding your eyes.
Lunch went on silently after that, the sounds of metal clinking on glass was nearly deafening. In all fairness you were afraid of saying anything else, which was unusual.
“You still didn’t answer my question,” she blurted out suddenly, causing you to look at her.
“What question?” She let out a dry laugh, almost like she was mocking you, which only made you despise her a little bit more.
“You know which question.”
“Because you can be quite a prick sometimes.”
“Excuse me?” She looked at you with disbelief.
“Like that time you kicked me out-”
“Oh no, you were late, those are the rules.” She interrupted you.
“See, you’re always too caught up on the rules, live a little.”
She just shook her head in amusement, she was enjoying this, but so were you. She gave you the green card to give your opinion, and you damn well were taking it.
“What else?”
“There was that time you took away my necklace for no reason.”
“You weren’t paying attention in class.”
“I’m never paying attention in class,” you argued.
“And yet you always have an answer at the tip of your tongue don’t you?”
“It’s a talent.” You responded full of pride, earning an eye roll from her. “You also love to pick on me.”
“How so?” She played dumb, she knew what you were talking about, the mischief in her eyes, the way she leaned on her elbows with interest, it all gave her away, you could read her like an open book.
Nonetheless, you responded.
“You always call on me when I’m clearly not interested in participating in the debate.” You challenged, yet her expression didn’t change one bit. You were aware of how insulting this was to her classes, implying they were boring, but you didn’t care.
“And, somehow, your opinions are always on point,” she softened her expression catching you by surprise, “that’s what I like about you, you challenge me, make me think outside the box, that’s why I always call on you.”
The confession was unexpected, and you were completely speechless. It would’ve never crossed your mind to consider those discussions like that. She was enjoying your shock, your confusion, and since you didn’t say anything she took the liberty to clear both your empty plates, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
It took you a good few minutes to come back to reality and head to your own bedroom.
Thinking back to the past few months, some details started to come to light and make you question everything. You hated Ms. Maximoff, just like all the other professors, but you did stay around for longer than necessary after class was done. You never paid attention to the debates she proposed, but whenever she called on you, you didn’t give half answers, you gave full, well developed ones.
You kept thinking if your hate for her was just a consequence of your general hate to this place, to the rules they impose on you. Was the fact that all of the other professors weren’t particularly fond of you so ingrained in your mind that you projected that into everyone?
Guilt flooded you. Guilt from being so rude to her. Guilt from insulting her. Guilt from being a complete asshole during her classes, while all this time she enjoyed your presence there.
Throughout the rest of the afternoon you tried to brush the feeling off by occupying your mind. Calling your parents while the power wasn’t cut off yet. Organizing your room. Raiding other people’s rooms.
None of that helped, so that’s how you ended up with a stolen bottle of vodka in hand trying to get the old TV in the basement to work. The fact that it’s the 21st century and this damn school only has one very old television hidden away is shocking to you. On the bright side you didn’t cross paths with Ms. Maximoff again.
Which is different to say that she hasn’t been crossing your mind every few minutes.
After three rough sips of the alcohol, a few frustrated attempts at getting the damn image to stabilize and many thoughts about your philosophy professor, you found yourself stumbling to the professors’ wing of the building.
It was a completely new and unexplored area for you. The place was forbidden for students during the school year. Thankfully this was a situation to which that rule didn’t apply.
Stumbling on your feet, finding her room wasn’t a challenge, the light seeping through the cracks, contrasting with the darkness of night, gave it away. With some hesitation, you finally knocked on the door.
“Y/N?” There was some surprise in her voice, but you interpreted that as an invitation to come in, so you opened the old wooden door being faced with her soft figure sitting in bed, a book in lap. “Is something wrong?”
“Uhm… no, not really,” you weren’t quite sure why you even came here in the first place.
“Then what is it?”
“Do you wanna watch a movie?” You blurted out, surprising the both of you.
“A movie?” She quirked a brow at you and you couldn’t help this shyness that took over you all of a sudden.
“Yeah,” you practically whispered, “I’ve got booze.” You lifted the bottle still on your hands, trying to lighten the mood.
“Where did you get that?” She said, her body tensing slightly.
“Does it matter?”
“It’s against the rules.” You rolled your eyes at that, gaining your confidence back.
“Rules and more rules… throw the rules away, there’s no one here to catch us, live a little.” You challenged, her expression becoming something unreadable. “So, movie?”
She put her book aside, her face something akin of enjoyment and displeasure, if that was even possible. A smirk grew on your face as she walked past you, taking the bottle with her. Once you realized she might not be giving in to your persuasion but could actually be confiscating the bottle you ran after her.
“Hey, what are you doing with that?” You tripped, almost falling face first into the floor, earning a chuckle from the woman.
“Catching up to you,” she said, taking a sip of the alcohol, the ease with which she did it erupted unwanted thoughts into your mind, and you were quick to brush them off.
She kept going, leaving you behind, still lost in a daze.
“How do you know where to go?” You shouted again, this time being more careful when running towards her.
“There’s only one TV in this whole place,” you gave her a surprised look, “what? You’re not the only one who likes to snoop around.”
This was a side to her you never expected to see, but certainly weren’t complaining. You walked side by side in silence, although it wasn’t an uncomfortable one.
Reaching the basement, you were quick to throw yourself on the old couch, and she just stood on the doorway.
“I thought we were going to watch a movie,” she referred to the flickering image on the screen.
“Yeah, well, I couldn’t get it to work,” you admitted, suddenly questioning why you even invited her to do something you couldn’t do.
“Did you just call me here to fix it?” She asked playfully, making her way to the apparatus.
“Maybe,” you played along, watching as she tried to fix the image, moving some of the wires behind it.
Eventually you got to the conclusion that she did all that handyman work for theatrics, since a firm hit of her hand on the side of the device caused the image to stabilize. Was she trying to impress you or was it just damn luck? No matter what it was, the whole scenario erupted even more unwanted thoughts.
“It’s not perfect, but now it’s watchable,” she mocked.
“Oh, thank you, great Ms. Maximoff, what would I do without you?” You added dramatically as she flopped herself by your side.
“No, don’t call me that, it makes me feel old.”
“You are old.” It was just a playful comment, and thankfully she didn’t take it personally.
“I’m twenty four.”
“See, old,” you earned a light slap on the forearm.
“At least I’m a professor, you’re almost nineteen and still haven't graduated high school.”
You scoffed indignantly, shoving her slightly.
“Hey, that’s not my fault, the stupid school wouldn’t let me transfer my grades from Brazil,” you countered.
“Oh, now it’s the school's fault.”
“Of course, my grades there were excellent,” they weren’t, “all I needed was for them to validate them,” also a lie. In truth, your grades in Brazil sucked, the curriculum was completely different and you hadn’t bothered enough to figure out what was going on. You would’ve been held back a grade either way, but changing schools gave you the chance to blame someone else, and you always took it.
“I don’t believe you,” annoyingly enough, not everyone bought into the lie.
“What do you believe then?” The movie played in the background, completely forgotten.
“That you weren’t smart enough to keep up,” her green orbs stared directly into yours, stirring in you this feeling of anger or desire, something you couldn’t quite place.
“Ah, você fica aí se achando toda espertinha mas- (ah, you think you’re so smart but-),” you were interrupted by her lips crashing into yours in an almost desperate, hungry kiss.
It didn’t take long for you to respond, as if you expected her to kiss, although you couldn’t quite understand how. Your hands moved up her sides, tangling themselves on her hair, as hers dropped to your waist, pulling you to cradle her lap.
The kiss wasn’t sweet and delicate, but needy and nearly aggressive. You pushed her impossibly close, feeling her hands doing the same. You craved her, you needed her, like you’ve been severely dehydrated and she was the last cup of water in the world.
Your body responded to her, every touch, every sound. She laid you on your back, hovering over your form, movements calculated to match yours. Her lips touching your skin, exploring every piece of flesh she could find left you burning with desire.
It wasn’t a battle, it was a dance. And you danced together, making each other see stars, reaching heaven and hell in minutes. Everything about her drew you in, the taste of her tongue sliding with yours, the heat her body radiated, the patterns she drew with the tip of her fingers and the places her mouth took you.
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Why is it that we crave freedom so much, and yet, when we find ourselves face to face with it, we turn away, pretend it’s not there?
You woke up to silence. Complete silence. Wanda’s naked body laying underneath yours on the couch.
The events from the night brought a smile to your face, which didn’t last long when you lifted yourself up and was hit with a massive headache, the exercise also making your bruised shoulder slightly sore. As quietly as possible, you looked for your clothes scattered across the floor, leaving the woman to sleep for a little while longer.
The hallways to your room were unusually dark considering it was no longer night, but you didn’t think too much about it. Changing into clean clothes, you decided to make some food since you didn’t have any medicine.
It was no surprise that the kitchen was, also, unusually dark, and you were slightly thankful, the light wouldn’t make the pain in your head any easier to deal with. Didn’t take long for you to figure out why.
Opening the fridge in search of some eggs you were surprised the lights didn’t go on immediately. Investigating further, you flickered the lightswitch multiple times and nothing happened. Great, you were out of power.
That explained why the TV had turned off on it’s own. At least the stove still worked, you’d just have to be quick to finish the refrigerated food so it wouldn’t spoil. You frustratingly tried to find a pan to cook those eggs, still kinda shook from the headache.
“Hey,” Wanda’s voice called your attention from the doorway.
“We’re out of power,” you simply responded, crouched down on the floor, searching the bottom cabinet.
“We need to talk,” she ignored your previous statement, and, to be honest, you didn’t pay too much attention to hers.
You stood up with the pan in hands, a breathy yes leaving your mouth in celebration, only to find her standing a few steps from you.
“Oh, umm, what do you want to talk about?” You knew the answer, you just hoped you were wrong about it.
“Last night.” And you were right.
“Okay.”
“It was wrong.” She started sternly, you expected it, but it doesn't mean it didn’t hurt. “We shouldn’t have drank. I shouldn’t have kissed you. You shouldn’t have kissed me back.” With every punch to your gut she also took a step closer. “I shouldn’t have done it. Shouldn’t have let it get too far.”
Her body was now mere inches from yours and you fought the urge to reach out for her.
“But you did,” you breathed out, “and so did I.”
“You are my student.”
“Only for six more months.”
“Still…,”
The closeness didn’t let you think straight, her green orbs bore into yours with a glint you couldn’t decipher. You felt suddenly better, the headache no longer mattered, your shoulder wasn’t a bother. All you could concentrate on was her breath so close to your face.
“I don’t care.” You held your breath in expectation.
“Good, neither do I.”
She connected your lips on a kiss. Soft, passionate, different than the one from last night, but just as good. She lifted you up on the kitchen counter and you wrapped yours legs around her, not wanting the moment to end.
Safe to say that breakfast was delayed.
The next two days were filled with just about that, the lack of power didn’t leave that many options to pass time. Although you weren’t complaining, there was no way of knowing for how long this thing between you and Wanda could go on, and you would make the best out of every second of it.
“I think I owe you an apology,” you were sitting by one of the windows, your back leaning on her chest, a blanket draped over both of your laps.. The sky was clear for the first time since the storm, giving the perfect view of the night.
“You do?”
“Yes, I projected all my… uhm… negative feelings for- for everything, I guess, on you, and that’s not fair. So, I’m sorry.” A weight was lifted from your chest as you relaxed in her embrace.
“Thanks, but I don’t mind, it’s all in the past... It’s in the past right?” You chuckled softly.
“Depends on your concept of ‘past’.” She fell silent, both of you enjoying the clear night sky. “You see, light takes time to travel through space, and since the stars are millions of light years away from us, that means that the light we see from them right now was emitted a long time ago. We’re seeing how they were years ago, some of them might not even exist anymore.”
“That screws with our whole concept of time. Past, present and future.”
“O passado é história, o futuro é mistério, o agora é uma dádiva e por isso se chama presente. (The past is history, the future is a mystery, today is a gift, that’s why we call it the present.)” You mindlessly muttered, feeling Wanda’s hands going underneath your shirt.
“It’s so hot when you talk to me in portuguese.” Her voice was husky against your ears, sending shivers up and down your spine.
“Stop being so horny, that was from a children’s movie.” You managed to get out, turning around to face her.
“Still… it was hot,” her breath against your skin was making you crazy, her hands caressing your bare skin underneath your garments making you dizzy.
“Isso porque você ainda não viu as coisas que eu posso fazer com você(That’s because you haven’t seen all the things I can do to you),” you teased and her hands squeezed your hips, pulling you closer.
The feeling of her lips on yours wasn’t new, but still knocked your breath away everytime. Or maybe this time it was the sound of someone clearing their throat that caused that reaction.
“Mrs. Chren,” you quickly pulled away from Wanda, your heart rate going a thousand miles a minute.
“I tried to call, but I see the power hasn’t been restored yet.” Her expression was stern, serious, not what you expected.
Wanda was frozen in fear, eyes wide and mouth agape. She had put everything to lose because of this, her job, her reputation. It was like watching her wait for all the things she built for herself to crumble. This broke your heart.
“Mrs Chren, I- ” you started but the words died on your throat, not sure what to say.
“I won’t say anything,” she started and you felt your entire body relaxing, “but this stops now. We’re all in the kitchen by the way.”
She didn’t say anything else. The woman just came in to scare the fucking shit out of you, and then walked away like nothing had happened.
Wanda was still deeply lost in her turmoil of thoughts.
“Hey,” you took her hands in yours, feeling them still trembling, “it’s okay.”
“It’s okay,” she repeated in an attempt to convince herself it was true. It seemed to work when her eyes met yours, no longer filled with fear, but with hurt. “What about us?”
“It’s just for six months,” you reassured her, although you still felt like you’ve just taken a punch to the gut.
You brushed the initial shock away, Wanda did the same, as you both got up and made your way to the kitchen.
“There you are, how was spending a whole week on your own?” Mr Griffin asked as soon as you stepped into his line of view.
“It was great,” you answered, “I assume the roads are finally clear?”
“Yes, it took a while but they are,” Mrs Song complemented. “Well, I’m exhausted, I’m happy you’re both okay,” she pitched to you and Wanda before leaving to her room. Soon after, all the other professors did the same, leaving you and Wanda alone again.
“What now?” You asked, she was the one who had to make that decision.
“We stop?” She let out a dry chuckle. “We sneak around?”
“I like that.” You approached her, pecking her lips.
It wasn’t a permanent solution. It was most likely the worst solution you’d come up with, but if she wanted this, then you wouldn’t deny it.
Nonetheless, as you laid on your own bed, in your own room, alone, you couldn’t help but think if this was really a good idea. If it was worth the risk of sneaking around, the risk of potentially getting caught.
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You didn’t dwell too much on the meanings of that, you just let yourself enjoy it, enjoy her.
The whole secret thing wasn’t as fun as you’d expected, but it was quite an adrenaline rush. Every little moment had much more value considering all the trouble you’d go to get them.
With a school full of students and teachers, sleeping in each others’ rooms was impossible, so you stuck to… other locations. The supplies closet at night, her classroom at the end of the day. You’d hide in the forest, that surrounded the building, during the weekends and try to have lunch together in town every now and then.
As the months passed, certain thoughts started to invade your mind, thoughts you’ve been trying to ignore ever since your first night with Wanda. What would happen when the semester did, in fact, end?
You would no longer be a student, but that also meant you’d no longer see Wanda every day. You’d go to college, who knows where, and Wanda would stay there, living in this old school, at least an hour away from anything, with no means of communication other than that telephone she’d have to share with hundreds of students and teachers.
“Hey, I’m so glad you called, we have good news!” Your mother spoke excitedly through the phone. You had been calling them every two weeks, mainly discussing what you would do after the semester was done.
“That’s great, I’ve been needing some of those.”
“Is school getting to you?” You hadn’t told them about Wanda, they knew she was your professor, and it would’ve just been weird.
“Yeah, the usual, so what’s the news?” You shrugged it off, trying to cheer yourself up.
“Right, so, I know you missed the vestibulares back in Brazil, but your father made some calls and the board has seen your grades and they agreed to give you a spot starting in August!” She exclaimed, letting out a little squeal at the end.
It was like the universe was finally starting to work to your advantage. For the past six months you’ve been trying to ignore the fact that you would no longer have the chance to go to the college you’ve always wanted to, Wanda helped a lot by occupying your mind with other things, but now the it was right there, in front of, you just had to take it.
You matched your mom's excitement, talking details of flights, living situation and all. It wasn’t until you hung up what this meant for you and Wanda.
Being only hours apart was already problematic, but studying in a different country, that’s a whole new kind of problem. Different time zones, different schedules, completely different lives. Nonetheless it was your dream, there wasn’t a decision to be made, only a truth to be told.
Wanda didn’t make it easy though. She was testing you every single day, driving you crazy and there was nothing you could do about it. It hadn’t hit her yet what was waiting at the end of the semester, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her.
So you kept that up, for the whole semester you kept that realization hidden from her, never building up the courage to have this conversation. You held off for so long, until you couldn’t anymore.
Everyone had just stepped out of philosophy class, leaving you and the woman alone.
“You know,” she started to walk towards you with hunger in her eyes, “you’ve been awfully quiet during my classes.” You were dazed by the wholeness of her, almost giving in and ignoring those thoughts you didn’t want to say out loud.
“Também, com as roupas que você veste, fica difícil concentrar em qualquer outra coisa. (With the clothes you’re wearing, it’s kinda hard to concentrate on anything else.)” You relished on the effect the words had on her, how her eyes turned a shade darker, her eyes fell immediately to your lips at the sound of them.
It took everything in you to stop her when she gave an indication of connecting both your lips, realizing that the longer you waited the more it was gonna hurt.
“Wan…”
“Oh, c’mon, you’re graduating in two weeks, are you really gonna stop because of the rules,” she mocked, “what did you tell me that one time? Live a little?” You weren’t falling for her teasing and challenges.
“It’s not about the rules…,” she gave you a look of confusion, “I’m going to college, in Brazil, and you’re staying here, we’ll be-” the words pained to come out, “it’s… a whole different continent, how are we going to make this work if we’re miles away from each other all the time?” Her demeanor changed, the weight of the future falling onto her. “How are we going to be together if I won’t even be able to reach you for months at a time?”
There was an internal battle taking over her. It was the first time you had uttered those words to her, maybe even the first time that problem had ever crossed her mind, she needed time to think it over.
In respect of that, you picked your back and started making your way to the door. It hurt, but that was on you. You fought back tears and tried to ignore the ever growing pain on your chest. There was no way this was going to end well, and you knew from the moment you started it.
You were stopped by a hand wrapping itself around your wrist, you turned to meet those beautiful green eyes of hers.
“I don’t give a shit, we’ll make it work,” with that she attacked your lips, and you didn’t stop her.
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“Y/N Y/L/N,” was announced, and you walked up on stage to take your diploma. Your blue cap'n gown flowing behind you.
Your parents were in the middle of the audience, taking pictures like crazy, and you smiled at them, happy they could be there to share this moment. Wanda was sitting on the first row with the other professors, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift towards her.
As you walked back to your place you caught her discreetly leaving the auditorium. You quickly followed behind, leaving the mess of sounds and entering the peaceful and silent outdoors
“Hey,” you called after her, but stopped dead in your tracks when she turned around, trying so hard to contain her tears.
And you weren’t far behind, tears of your own pooling on your eyelids. This was the moment you’ve been dreading for the past two weeks. This made it all real. You were officially out of high school, you weren’t going to see her everyday anymore, you’d be miles away.
“We can’t make this work, can we?” She said exasperated and you let out a deep sight.
“Wan…”
She didn’t let you say anything else, engulfing you in a passionate kiss. The taste of salt on your lips was obvious, you just weren’t sure if it was because of your tears or hers.
Against your will, you parted for air, resting your foreheads together. Neither of you wanting to let go of the other.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered, not sure what you were apologizing for.
“It’s not your fault.” She reassured.
Still your heart ached. Your chest felt heavy, like a whole piano had been resting on top of it. This was the end.
“For what it is worth,” you opened your eyes only to be met by her green ones, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
You took a moment to take one last look at her. The last time you’d see her. Her beautiful green eyes, her plump lips, her soft brown hair. You took in everything. How her eyes were filled with pain and adoration, how her lips formed a smile, one that no longer held hope, how her hands kept you close, how her body comforted yours perfectly.
“I do hope you and I, somehow, end up happy together.” You gave her one last kiss. “Goodbye Wanda.” You let go. Tears streamed down your face as you walked back inside, not looking back.
Perhaps that’s why humans fear liberty so much, we are scared of the pain our own decisions can cause.
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writingwithcolor · 20 days ago
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Jewish atheist character with personal challenges
Anonymous asked:
Hi, want opinions on a Jewish protag in my triad romance story, on both his personality & actions just to be sure I don't do something harmful: 1) he's a strong, loving, kind atheist who is ultimately a good father and person but is also a fairly promiscuous mentally ill alcoholic who is impulsive & prone to bad judgement & bad decisions. He had an abusive upbringing so never had exposure to his heritage or Jewish maternal family until adulthood. 
What are some ways he could try to connect with that as an adult? What ways would he pass it to his son? And lastly, would it be offensive for him to love holidays & celebrate (nonreligiously) things like Easter & Xmas just for the fun of it?
I realize he's halachically Jewish because of his mom no matter what, but not being raised Jewish at all: what is the point of making this already super complicated character Jewish if he has to be reconnecting as an adult and that’s something you’re not already personally familiar with? Plus, he likes Christmas and the “Jewish character who doesn’t really know a lot about Judaism and likes Christmas” written from the outside just sounds like a gentile character someone stuck a “Hello my name is: Jewish character!” sticker on, so if “written from the outside” applies to you, please keep that in mind.
That being said: connecting as an adult might involve 
going to temple either for Shabbat services or other holidays
having private conversations with the rabbi
reading Jewish blogs from people who are more involved
reading Jewish books both fiction and nonfiction
watching videos on YouTube
becoming frustrated at having to use Boolean search terms to get the random Christian things out of the Google results, and depending on his age, even reading Tumblr tags. 
He might want to learn the Hebrew alphabet for the first time. 
He might want to learn more about his mom’s side of the family and their stories.
His son, depending on his age, can do all those things with him and also be enrolled in the synagogue’s kid program or even study to become bar mitzvah (which is like, learn some Hebrew, learn your Torah portion, give a speech about it.) They can start to celebrate Jewish holidays with more practicing friends and families. What if they have friends who have a kid of similar age who invite them over for a seder?
He might still be drawn to Christmas but I’m side-eyeing this plot element just because of how many times I’ve seen Shoshi remind everyone in her posts that gentiles seem to looooove writing us finding meaning in Christmas, even just secular meaning. Can it just be okay for us to sit it out? It really doesn’t make it less fun for the rest of you, I promise. After all, if I wanted to spend Christmas Eve with my loved ones doing Christmassy things, churches couldn’t hire me to work in front of strangers.
Plus, our holidays are good enough!
Also I think Meir might be handling this part but being a Jewish atheist and being someone who was not raised Jewish at all and is atheist don’t feel the same; it’s possible for him to go from the latter to the former but that might come with some baggage from mainstream Christian culture about what it means to be part of a religion in the first place.
--Shira
I do want to talk about the atheism element a little, because I think a lot of people heard the message “Jewish atheist is not a contradiction” and correctly understood “we don’t consider someone not Jewish if they don’t believe in a literal God,” but didn’t take in the far more important--and harder, perhaps, to comprehend from a Christian-based perspective--”Whether or not a Jewish person believes in a literal God does not necessarily affect how they interact with, express, or practice their Judaism unless they intentionally choose to.” That is to say, writing someone whose Jewish practice or expression is in some way affected by whether or not they believe in a literal God is not an easy way to include Jewish representation without doing the background work, it’s actually a lot harder and will require a lot of additional research. In real life, the majority of Jewish people who don’t think God is an actual, literal, existing higher being practice their Judaism exactly the way Jewish people do who feel that something larger than themselves is present in the universe. Theism or atheism just isn’t something that affects how most Jews do or don’t practice their Judaism. 
But there are a lot of factors that would, and I’ll get to those in a moment. First, let’s think about what it means to write a Jewish character as an atheist. 
If what you’re hoping for from this character is specifically to represent atheism in a way that doesn’t include the trauma and rejection that can be experienced by atheists who are leaving a faith-based religion because of their lack of literal belief, then one direction you can take for this character is to show him taking comfort and connection in learning his own heritage, unlearning elements of Christian hegemony, and finding the kind of community that can support him through his recovery by taking part in Jewish traditions with a Jewish community as his support system. You could even start by showing him unlearning the idea that lack of personal faith necessarily excludes him from his heritage or from Jewish practice. 
On the other hand, if what you’re hoping for is to represent his Jewishness in a way that’s easier to write from the outside, let him leave aside the question of whether God is real in some kind of literal sense and instead show him learning, step-by-step, to engage with Jewishness through historical reading, practical observance, and, yes, unlearning elements of Christian hegemony, which could still include learning that Jewish participation doesn’t require a prerequisite of belief. 
If he grew up in a toxic environment and was kept from his mother’s family, it stands to reason that he’d have a lot of ambiently-Christian assumptions about the world, including the idea that whether you believe in God is a very important attribute of a person and that not believing in God is necessarily a major part of one’s identity. Frankly, I’d wager that 95% of Jewish adults outside of Ultra-Orthodox groups (and I’m only excluding those because I don’t have the tools to make an estimate) would be classified by Christian-influienced atheists as being to some degree agnostic. When I say that, what I want you to take away is that it doesn’t matter. Jewish people who feel certain that there’s a personified God whose consciousness is essentially similar to a human one, and Jewish people who feel certain that there is nothing metaphysical beyond human perception, and the vast majority who fall somewhere in between, do not practice differently based on where on that spectrum they fall. 
As promised, here are some things that would affect your character’s process of developing Jewish practice and identity as an adult:
His learning process: When a person begins to get involved with their Jewish identity, they don’t go from ambiently-Christian to strict Jewish observance all in one go, especially if they have other major difficulties or pressures in their life--for instance mental illness, addiction and recovery, and parenting. He might decide he wants to start lighting candles on Friday night without being sure what he’s going to get out of it, but not take on any additional Shabbat observances at the same time. Later he might experiment with avoiding pork to see how he feels about that, or learn a holiday recipe and make a nice dinner for a holiday even if he’s not ready to do every single practice for that holiday. 
His life circumstances: maybe he can’t afford to take on a practice he’d like to try, like taking Saturdays off or replacing all his kitchen tools. Maybe he doesn’t have the spoons to manage his mental illness, his addiction recovery, AND cleaning the house for Passover. Maybe he can’t always commit reliably to things he wants to do because of his drug use or other short-term choices. Maybe when he’s managing well he always is home on Friday night for a nice family dinner, and his family can tell he’s spiraling out again if he doesn’t do it. Maybe learning to recite basic liturgical prayers--like the Sh’ma and V'ahavta--can help him ground himself when he needs it.
The people in his life: 
How do his partners and son feel about this change in his lifestyle and identification? 
Are they happy he’s finding something meaningful in life? 
Are they worried he’s taking on too much too fast and going to crash? 
Are they annoyed that he’s messing up their routines while he tries to develop a new one? 
Is he infodumping about his new knowledge or avoiding sharing about it because he thinks they wouldn’t be interested? 
Is he hesitating to start a new routine for the family’s Friday nights because they’ve always had a different activity then? 
Is Yom Kippur on the same day as his kid’s ball game or is one of his partners passionate about prosciutto? 
He might choose what he wants to try doing based on how he assumes his family will feel about it. He might not take on any elements of personal practice but read tons of Jewish history and philosophy books.
His ability to access community: if he is able to begin attending services at a warm, welcoming synagogue where everyone is happy to see him and sympathetic when he’s not doing well, he might be able to do a lot more ambient learning and unlearning than if he’s watching services on a livestream or corresponding with a rabbi by email. If he started out his journey into his Jewish identity by reading a lot of blogs and watching youtube videos, then connects with a community, he might find that he has random holes in his knowledge based on what the bloggers and youtubers felt like talking about or didn’t. And if he connects with a community but they happen to be not as welcoming--every community is different, after all--then he might have a harder time learning customs by osmosis or struggle to live up to social expectations he’s not able to meet. That last one I’d be more comfortable seeing written by a Jewish author though. 
In all of these options, experimenting with taking on new elements of personal practice to see if he can maintain them and how they add meaning to his life is something he can do regardless of his personal beliefs about God in particular. There are certainly some people who say “I do this because God wants me to” but “I do this because it makes me feel a connection to my ancestors who did this” or “I do this because I find it meditative” or “I do this and I don’t know exactly why I like it but I do” are all valid reasons for Jewish observances.
In addition to the things Shira listed, here are some Jewish practices he could try out, by incremental difficulty: 
Shabbat:
Trying to make time on Saturday for something restful and fun
Lighting a pair of candles every Friday night at Sundown
Lighting the candles and reciting a blessing over them
Lighting the candles and reciting a blessing over them and a cup of wine or grape juice and a pair of challah loaves
Taking the day off from work from sunset Friday to sunset Saturday
Attending synagogue services on Friday night and/or Saturday morning
Learning and observing the more specific types of “work” observant Jews avoid on Shabbat.
Holidays:
Learning the dates and meanings of the various Jewish holidays
Planning a nice family dinner for each holiday
Observing the special practices of each holiday, such as fasting on Yom Kippur, lighting a menorah on Chanukah, and visiting or building a sukkah on sukkot
Taking the day off from work on the holidays, even when they fall on a weekday and are not acknowledged by the Christian-dominated surrounding culture
Attending synagogue services on the evening and/or morning of holidays.
Kashrut [kosher-ness]: 
Avoiding eating pork
Avoiding eating pork, shellfish, catfish, or swordfish
Separating meat--beef and poultry--from dairy and not eating them together (fish doesn’t count as meat for this context)
Only eating foods that have been certified kosher by an inspector [mashgiach]
Replacing every dish and cooking utensil in the house with ones that have never been used for pork, shellfish, or mixed meat and milk
As for how to pass Jewish identity on to his son, one extremely common thing I see a lot in my day job is parents who don’t have a ton of Jewish education or knowledge themselves enrolling their kids in their synagogue’s Hebrew school and finding themselves extremely proud as their kid begins being able to teach them the history and traditions they are learning. Hebrew school programs typically run on Sunday morning and one to two weekdays after school, and kids learn Hebrew reading skills, Jewish culture and calendar, and Jewish history while getting to hang out with other Jewish kids their age. 
As a last word, I want to commend you for questioning the idea of having him particularly enjoy celebrating the Christian holidays. We have plenty of holidays of our own, and they’re just as fun and way less represented. We not only do not feel any loss by not adding your two holidays to our dozen-plus, we would very much like for non-Jews to recognize that our holidays are every bit as real, every bit as meaningful, every bit as fun, and quite a bit more ours. Showing a Jewish character celebrating Christmas isn’t inclusion, it’s erasure, and you were very much on the right track in questioning whether it would be okay. That said, he doesn’t have to go hide in a hole when his non-Jewish family members are celebrating. It’s fine for him to show up for them, and if they’re not willing to also show up for him then it’s fine for that to create friction in his relationships. 
- Meir
“Do you love the color of the post?
….which one?” (posting this joke with Meir‘s permission and we both thank you for reading!)
--Shira
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egg-on-the-run · 6 months ago
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How about relationship headcanon’s and yes there’s cute stuff but what about realistic shizz? The good, the bad, the ugly. The stubbornness that with time one learns the art of compromise for.
I've only ever been in one relationship and tbh it was very like relaxed??? We never argued much so I hope this isn't super unrealistic.
Leonardo:
Never tells you why he's upset. It's always a guessing game and the worst part is half the time he is not upset with you
He'll have an argument with Raphael and give everyone the silent treatment while he's huffing (and it is huffing) and you spend an hour trying to figure out what you did wrong
Leonardo's confrontational about things that Do Not Matter but avoids conversations about things that are actually important
Like yeah he'll tell you if some silly habit kind of annoys him but it takes a long time for him to confess that PDA makes him a little uneasy
That's another thing: PDA is a minimum with him. Yes he will put his arm around you, yes he will hold your hand. But please no kisses in front of his family he just doesn't vibe with it
He's very nervous about a lot of things, very nervous about going on dates, doing things with you for the first time. You do have to take things slow with him and it takes a while to perfect the art of reassuring him without making him feel patronised
His love language is acts of service and quality time.
Sometimes that quality time is napping because he's prone to overworking himself
Adores it when you take control of things. LOVES being babied and taken care of
Call him something like "sweetheart" and he becomes putty in your hands
His ideal date is he makes dinner, you buy dessert. You both do the dishes together and watch a movie afterwards 💙
Raphael:
Hahaha get ready to rumble.
King of arguments, fool of never being able to apologise
You will bicker about everything to the point where everyone is like 👀👀 but the second anyone else says something? You are both wildly protective of each other
"God you're such a prick" "Yeah screw you Raph" "Casey I swear to god if you ever say anything like that ever again I will kick you so hard in the dick you'll give yourself a blow job" "Raph you're s/o is scaring me" "Casey I'm going to put your head through the wall."
Raph likes to pretend arguments just Did Not Happen. He doesn't expect you to apologise either so at least you can't call him a hypocrite, but he just prefers moving past things. It's over now. Don't bring it up again.
And yes this does cause more conflict sometimes. But you cannot date Raph and not be stubborn. If you put your foot down firmly enough he will give in and do his best to talk about things. He doesn't necessarily like doing it, but you're both stubborn and both very much in love and he's always willing to try
Much more into PDA than Leo. Likes to hold you against him, leans on you, plays with your hair. He just constantly likes to be touching you in some way, even in front of everyone
You can pull the "because you love me" card at any time
"Can you make me some coffee?" "I'm in the middle of playing a game, why would I make you coffee?" "Because you love me."
He doesn't mind it as much as he pretends to
His love language is physical touch and acts of service: lots of cuddles, he holds all your stuff, walks you to and from work
His ideal date is just him trying to teach you how to fight
Lots and lots of gym dates, exploring sewer tunnels and the city together, him letting you win at wrestling ❤️
Donatello:
Leonardo's bad at confrontation sometimes, but Donnie? If you stabbed Donnie he wouldn't complain
Donnie is very insecure in his ability to please. So he works overtime and stresses himself out. If something is bothering him you will never find out because he would rather suffer in silence than even risk upsetting you by bringing it up
His thought process is something along the lines of he interrupts you once so he thinks he just shouldn't speak. He has not connected the dots but he's certainly jumped to conclusions
It takes a very very long time for an argument to actually happen because if you try to talk to Donnie about something he will just Immediately Agree With You, even if he doesn't
But when an argument does happen he says a lot of mean things to get under your skin and you will play the very same cards when things get heated
As time goes on you both get better at having discussions rather than arguments. But when a fight happens you can go days without speaking to each other
Very protective. Likes to know you're safe. Yes it's doting and sweet, but it's also a little annoying having text him "yes I'm still at work darling" every hour
Donnie is also an "actions speak louder than words" kind of guy. No saying sorry, but he makes you a little gift and slides it across the table. No words exchanged, but you know he's sorry for what he did
Mixed feelings about PDA. Sometimes he's more than happy to let you sit on his lap, other times if you try to hold his hand he flinches
Baby is a little touch starved. He gets overwhelmed very easily and shuts you out. Some days are better than others but again, he just doesn't tell you
His love language is gift giving and loves making you little trinkets and toys to put on your desk. But he adores receiving words of affirmation
His ideal date is both of you info dumping in your room while eating pizza. It's so simple, it's so easy. Usually whenever he starts to ramble he forgets a lot of his insecurities with touch and will let you hold him 💜
Michelangelo:
King of communication. He just does not like to argue, fighting upsets him and when you're angry with him he gets a little afraid
Even if you are very frustrated he takes you by the hand and sits you down. He has it down to a routine, there's no problem you can't solve together
It takes a good while for you to break down his walls. He puts up a very fun loving, easy going front to please everyone and even when you start dating it's difficult for him to be completely open
But when he shows you his deep emotions once he's very comfortable showing them to you again and again
Needs lots of reassurance, not with regards to relationships but with regards to himself. His brothers still treat him like the baby of the family, still make him feel stupid. You treat him like he's capable of whatever and he just bursts into tears because you have complete faith in him
You do, however, understand that his brothers treat him like the baby because sometimes he acts like it
He can be a little too high energy and sometimes you just need space and he doesn't understand that it's not his fault, you're just tired.
You have a code for when he's being too affectionate. He loves PDA to the full but it is overwhelming: a squeeze on his knee tells him to calm down a little
He's such a people pleaser that you have to make most of the decisions with everything. Where you want to eat, what you want to do, it would be nice if he took control a little more.
His love language is yes and. Jk jk he praises you 24/7, pet names, compliments, worships you. Loves physical touch as well obviously
His ideal date is something arty. He takes you to find a blank wall in the tunnels and you both just spray paint 🧡
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