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rafescurtainbangz · 4 months

Text

Professor Cameron - Rafe Cameron One Shot +18

Minor DNI

Based off a prompt by @geniousbh :

Rafe x female reader (No use of Y/N)

Warnings: smut & language

Fingering, oral (female receiving), unprotected p in v, pet names, squirting, overstimulation, breeding kink, praise kink, ownership kink, creampie, cum play, older Rafe

Lightly edited

3.1K

Taglist ♡ @imyourdaninow

Enjoy! 💕✨

"I'm so close to a C," you grumble, eyes rolling as you hold yet another Econ test between your fingers; D+ scrolled in blood-red ink. "Another fuckin' D."

"A D+, actually," your friend teases, tapping the top.

"Well, would you look at that?" You sass, readjusting yourself from your slumped state, eyes drifting ahead, matching Professor Cameron's. He represses a smile, running his palm against his lips.

"Do they do extra credit in college?" You whine, leaning into your friend, resting your head on her shoulder as you continue to sulk.

"Professor C? No fuckin' way; the guy's a hard ass."

"I don't think that's true," You look his way again, just missing his eyes. "He looks sweet," you whisper.

"He's hot as fuck," she adds, making your cheeks flush pink. "Is he married? I don't see a ring." She studies him a little further, trying to get a better look.

"Why does it matter?" You ask, narrowing your gaze on him.

"Meh. It doesn't, but it makes it easier. You said you wanted extra credit, sunshine." She wiggles her eyebrows, elbowing you playfully.

"Just tell me what you're getting at," you huff. "Class is almost over, and I need to figure this shit out."

"Jesus Christ, babe. You want extra credit. He's not married. And he already looks at you like he wants to devour you."

"Eat me?"

"If that's what you're into, or you could suck him off, I suppose," she giggles as you let out a little gasp. "Ugh... Stop clutching your pearls. If he was lookin' at me like that, he'd be blowin' my back out every day of the week."

"So, you really think he likes me?" Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you turn in his direction. He's not looking at me...

"Just give it a second," your friend breathes.

Professor Cameron thumbs through the remaining stack of tests, handing another small pile to his teacher's assistant before snagging his school bag and coffee cup. Your stomach floods with butterflies as he matches your gaze, walking toward the lecture hall steps.

"Just fucking do it," she groans. "Even if you don't get the extra credit, at least you'll get somethin' out of it."

"Something?"

"Dick... Seriously. What the fuck, girl?"

"Stop bein' mean," you whine. 'What if he doesn't want me?"

"Sure," she laughs.

********

You walk down the hallway, heading toward the faculty offices. Wandering slowly as you skim the name plaques, searching for his.

Professor Rafe Cameron

Rafe? You bite back a nervous smile. I've never met a "Rafe" before. You lift your fist, giving the door a soft knock.

"Come in," he calls from behind it. You twist the handle; Rafe's blue eye expands slightly, along with his smile. It quickly fades. Maybe he doesn't want me here. Maybe I need to go.

"I'm sorry. I... Well, I didn't make an appointment," you babble, twirling your hair nervously.

"No - No. It's alright," he assures, the corners of his lips curling as he says the words. "Take a seat. Please." He gestures to the leather chair across from his large desk. You walk over taking a seat, smoothing your little skirt before matching his eyes. He addresses you by Miss, surprising you when he uses your last name, falling from his lips with ease. You're taken aback, frazzled at the moment that he knows you by name, out of a lecture hall full of students.

I'm clearly not an exceptional student. There are students with perfect scores in my class. Maybe he's just thoughtful. Maybe he remembers everyone's names.

"Are you alright?" He asks as he leans back in his chair slightly, adjusting in his seat.

"Umm... Just a little nervous," you let out a flighty laugh as he gives you his full attention.

"I don't bite," he smiles, crossing his arm across his broad chest. You watch as his linen shirt stretches across his strong arms. You study him a little more, taking in his features. You've never gotten to see him this close: perfectly quaffed locks, just the right amount of stubble on his chiseled jaw. He's loosened his tie since you saw him last, Rafe's top button drawn open as well, a peek of a gold chain matching his ring-adorned fingers. He guides your attention back to his eyes, using your first name this time, making your heart race.

"So, is there anything I can help you with?" He asks you again with a softer tone, just trying to pull any sort of answer out of you.

"Sorry... Umm. I'm not doing very well in your class. I just - I'm not used to doing so poorly." His eyes soften on yours as you continue to spin your sob story. "I seem to do well on my papers, but, I do really bad on my tests."

His lips tug to the side, brows knitting tight. "Well, that's because I grade your papers," he hums as he turns his swivel chair toward his computer, pulling up the gradebook. "My T.A. is on a little bit of a power trip this semester. And it does not help that you're stunning. Think someone's a little jealous," he chuckles. You feel heat spread across your cheeks as you take in his compliment. "We'll see if we can work something out."

Professor Cameron matches your smile, lingering a little while before returning to his screen. "Alright..." He takes a deep breath, squinting slightly before taking out some black glasses. "Let's see what we're workin' with." He scans the numbers, writing down a few things on a little Post-It note. "So it looks like lesson 5, 6, and 8 tests were all D's." You nod your head in acknowledgment. "Well, you can retake these if you'd like. And, I can regrade them for you; skip the middleman."

"Really?" You bubble.

"'Course," he breathes. "There's no reason those tests should be that low given what you know. I'm very impressed with your written work."

"Yeah?" You expel a sigh of relief.

"Yeah... I would bet that you could finish the course with at least a B."

"Wow, Professor Cameron. Thank you so much. At least... So, I could maybe get an A?" You smile, sweetening your tone, just playing around, doing your best to lighten the mood.

"Maybe," he chuckles, relaxing back in his chair. "I don't see why not. And we can always talk about extra credit if you'd like."

"Extra credit? That would be really nice, Professor Cameron." Your eyes fall to his thigh; two thick fingers moving ever so slightly, tracing the sleek black material, making your mind wander as you think about what he could do with his hands, if he was rough or gentle. He looks like he'd be rough.

"Yeah, extra credit," he hums; you follow his gaze, eyes lost in your cleavage, hidden slightly by your oversized jean jacket.

"What can I do for you, Professor Cameron," the words leave your lips before you can think them through. "F-For extra credit, that is," you recover quickly your cheeks shifting from a pretty blush to a deep red hue.

He fights off a smile, rapping his ringed finger against the wood desk a few times."Whatever you're comfortable with," he breathes. Rafe raises his hand, brushing away his smile just as he did in the classroom. This time, more of a smirk.

Whatever I'm comfortable with... He wants me to? Maybe?

Grabbing your jean jacket, you pull it off your shoulders, exposing your pink top, black lace peeking out."I'll do whatever it takes to get an "A," Professor Cameron."

"You will, now?" he sighs, sinking in his seat slightly, widening his thighs, making himself a little more comfortable. "You sure about that?"

"Mhmm," you breathe as you lean in closer, giving him a better view of your breasts. He lets out a sinful laugh, loosening his tie a little more than before, his icy blue eyes darkening along with yours.

"And, you'd do anything it takes to get that "A." Huh?" He mumbles as you work the satin straps over your shoulders, letting it fall around your waist.

"Anything."

"Shit," he draws out the word, snatching his glasses off his face before rising in his seat. He's tall, far taller from this angle, towering over you as he walks around the desk, designer dress shoes shuffling along the floor.

"Are you married, Professor Cameron?"

"Nah... I'm not. I'm single. And, you can call me Rafe if you'd like," he rasps, pawing his tie the rest of the way off. "Are you single? Anyone taking care of you."

"Just me," you whisper, your innocent eyes set on his.

"Just me. Huh?" He echoes. You nod as he grips the armrests of your swivel chair, towing you closer. "These boys not cuttin' it for you, princess?" You shake your head 'no'. You can see the print of Rafe's long, thick cock; pressing against his slacks. "I'm gonna take care of you." He takes hold of your chin with a heavy hand.

"Okay, Ra-" He steals your words, claiming your lips against his. Rafe catches your moan in his mouth, answering with his own. You let out a little gasp as he lifts you to your feet, bringing you closer. The two of you work on what little clothing remains between sloppy kisses, tearing it off each other's bodies until all that's left are his black boxer briefs.

Rafe groans as his rough fingers glide down your smooth skin, tracing the small of your waist, massaging and pressing your breasts together as his eyes roll back. He lifts you effortlessly, taking you into his strong arms. You hold on tight as Rafe swipes his palm across the desk, making the items tumble to the floor. He lays you on top, lips barely losing contact, kissing you roughly.

Your hands drift down his chest, journeying lower and lower. You rake your hands back up, feeling his muscles, resting on his chest, feeling his heart pound underneath. You dig your nails into his skin, making him hiss out a breath.

You feel the chill of his rings against your hot skin as he squeezes your tits, shoving them together. "Jesus fuck, baby girl," he mutters, locking down on your nipple, swirling and flicking, leaving you a whimpering mess. "You look good... So fuckin' good," he groans, running two thick fingers between your thighs, skimming your slit. "How are you so wet?" He growls.

You take in his scent, rich and delicious, amplified by the warmth of his bare skin. You reach for him desperately, pulling him to your lips as he rocks into you, thrusting languidly, stroking your aching pussy with his clothed cock. His gold chain sways, with each roll of his hips brushing against your cleavage.

"Please," you whimper, desperate for more.

"Want me to eat your pussy, angel? Hmm? Bend you over my desk?"

"Yes, Rafe. Fuck," you whimper.

He lowers himself between your legs, looping his arms under your thighs, pulling you toward his face. Rafe spreads your legs, kissing you deeply, marking you in a way that'll surely leave a bruise, teasing you as his digits slip closer. You take a grip on his sandy-blonde hair, pulling him nearer as you buck your hips, craving more friction between the two of you. Rafe breathes warmly against your clit, making you melt into the table.

"Rafe-" You beg, your words turning into a breathy cry as he plunges his tongue deeply, drawing out slowly, licking a line to your clit that has your body quaking. He sucks your bud, releasing you with a pop. Doing it again and again, leaving your thighs trembling uncontrollably. He brushes his tongue side to side on your clit, making your vision blur.

Rafe slings your legs over his broad shoulders, working deeper than before. You grip the edge of the desk; teeth clenched, muscles firing hot as you hold back your cries of pleasure. "Cum for me..." He grunts, driving his fingers into you as you nod rapidly.

"Y-Yeah," you shudder, chasing your climax as he pounds into your dripping cunt.

"Do it." Rafe curls his fingers inside of you, tension snapping as you moan his name. "Fuck... Say it again. Say my name again," he groans, looking down at you in a drunken haze as he works you through your orgasm.

"Rafe," you breathe. He slips between your legs, cleaning the mess he made with his tongue.

This - This is a man. Sure, I've been with plenty of boys, but this is divine. I can tell that he knows what he's doing: how to kiss, how to touch a woman. I need him. All of him.

"Tastes so fuckin' good," he mumbles. "Anything?" He asks again as he tugs at the elastic of his boxers.

"Anything," you mewl.

"Need to be inside you," he mutters as he pulls his boxers off his body. "You want that. Don't you?"

"Yes."

He gives you a few experimental thrusts, watching you jolt in your sensitivity every time his rock-hard cock nudges your clit. You look at the slight space between the two of you, letting out a desperate moan, yearning to be filled. Rafe's long, thick dick curved toward his stomach, glistening with precum, smudging against his tight stomach with each rut.

"Fuck me," you plead.

You let out a gasp as he stuffs his cock in your pussy; hips flush with your ass, balls deep; pushing even further. "R-Rafe..." You whimper, tears running down your cheeks as you feel the pressure in your guts.

"Goddamn..." He grunts. "You're so fuckin' tight. Shit - Pussy feels so good."

"You're so big," you whimper as you press your hand against your tummy.

"You okay? Takin' me so well..."

"Yeah. M'fine. Feels so fucking good."

"Been hopin' you'd walk in my office since the first day I saw you." He brushes your tears away with his thumbs as he kisses your lips, dick buried deep. "Who woulda thought you be such a slut for your professor. Huh?"

BANG. BANG.

"Hey, Rafe. Are you free?" His colleague yells from outside the door, causing the two of you to freeze. Rafe snares your hips, holding you in place. He draws a finger to his lips, demanding your silence.

"Wanted to see if you could look over something for me."

Rafe grinds his hips slowly, not wanting to stop, cupping your breast in his hand. He leans down, giving you a soft bite, eyes focused on yours.

"Rafe?" The male tries again, making Rafe roll his eyes in annoyance. You watch as the shadow shifts underneath the door, walking away.

"Fuck, that was close," he breathes, kissing his way up your stomach. "Come over tonight?"

"You want me to come over to your house?" You whisper as you smile against his lips.

"Need to fuck you in a bed. Want you to ride me. You want that "A." Yeah?" He asks, his voice deep and dark.

"Yes, Professor Cameron," you smile as you flutter your lashes, your angelic tone contrasting his wicked one entirely.

"You're a pretty little thing. Fuck. You're gorgeous," he praises as his swollen tip presses against your entrance, stretching you slightly, making your lips part in a soft "o." He groans as he nudges himself a little further, rocking into you nice and slow, teasing you with the first few inches and his fat cockhead.

"Rafe... Pl-" Your plea turns into a gasp as he pushes himself inside, bottoming you out completely. Your back arches off the desk, nipples grazing his chest.

Rafe thrusts at a rapid pace, skin striking skin. Knocking you deep in your core. "Such a good girl f'me," he grunts, punctuating each word with a rough thrust leaving you trembling.

You let out a moan that has him rushing to silence you, sealing your mouth with his broad palm, each muffled sound more fucked out than the last.

"You're killin' me," he mutters against your neck. "Gonna let you be real loud tonight. Alright? Gotta big fuckin' house. You can scream as loud as you want." His hand works between your thighs, brushing quickly against your clit; making you dig your nails into his shoulder blades."If I move my hand, are you gonna be a good little whore? Keep that mouth nice and quiet, f'me?"

"Yeah-"

"If you can't, I can stuff it full for you. Keep you real fuckin' quiet."

"N-No. Wanna cum... Fuck, I'm gonna-" His focus falls to the sound of your body gushing, squirting onto his cock and thighs as he continues to pound you into the wooden desk.

Your body clutches him, muscles pulsing. "That's it, baby. Fuckin' squeeze me." He looks down at you with half-lidded eyes, trying his best to thrust. Rafe doesn't give you orders, simply forcing you right where he wants you. Gripping your hips, turning you a moment later, lifting your ass in the air as you take a hold of the desk. You look over your shoulder, watching as he winds up to smack your ass. Stopping himself with a smirk and a raspy laugh. "I'm gonna ruin you tonight." His voice sends chills down your spine. Rafe grips your skin tightly, bunching it up in his hand as he coaxes his dick back in.

He ruts his hips deeply, fingertips driving into the fat of your ass as his hips clap against your skin. "Rafe," you blubber, trying your best to steady yourself on whatever you can grab. You can feel his tip kiss your G-spot with each stroke, working incredibly deep.

"Almost there... Want you to cum with me," he groans.

"Let me cum. I can't-"

"You will..."

"Please-"

"M'gonna cum, baby," he grunts, hand weaving into your hair. He yanks it back, pulling your orgasm out with it, blanketing your mouth as he silences your cries. You flutter wildly around his cock as he fills you to the brim with his climax. Rafe draws out slowly, letting your releases drip from your cunt; rolling down your inner thigh. He grips his cock in his fist, collecting your shared release, swirling his tip around your entrance before stuffing it deep inside again.

"Goddamn," he mumbles. Swiveling his hips slowly, jagged breaths are heard as he continues to move, completely overstimulated but loving the feeling too much to quit. "Mmm... You're gonna ride me tonight. Bounce on me; tits in fuckin' face. This wet fuckin' pussy is mine..." He moans, already desperate for more, as he palms your soft skin.

You reach for air, doing your best to catch your breath, riding a euphoric high. "Shit... Did I get an A, Professor Cameron?" You laugh breathily.

"A" fuckin' plus, princess."

Part 2 in my masterlist 🩷

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weasleyreidstyles · 4 months

Text

Serendipity

chapter eight

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): 18+ content, unprotected sex (use protection obvs), rough undertones but not really, bro's possessive as fuck

series masterlist; previous part; next part

Your old Professor had given you some much needed insight over the Christmas holidays. Harry had dragged you and Ron to sit in agonising silence as he and Remus had a back and forth battle of wills over Harry's wild theories. Remus was certain that Voldemort wouldn't recruit inexperienced, young adults who were barely eighteen, but you knew he was wrong about that, especially considering he was recruited into the Order as soon as he was no longer a Hogwarts student.

Theo had not replied to a single letter; you'd sent countless over the small three week break.

Remus had yelled at Harry for making such harsh accusations, then had apologised not ten minutes later. It was a full moon after all, and he was still grieving over Sirius' death. Before that had sullied the peaceful evening, you confided in your old Professor before lunch had been served, who was more than willing to offer his profound wisdom to you.

"Sir? Can I-" you hesitate in the doorway of the Burrow's living room, feet teetering on the edge of the threshold, the smell of Mrs Weasley's cooking permeating the calm air. Before you could continue, Professor Lupin let out a hoarse chuckle and invited you to settle in the cushioned sofa next to him.

"I'm not your Professor anymore," he spoke your name softly, "please call me Remus."

"Okay sorry. Can I ask you something, Remus?"

"Of course. I'll try to help in anyway I can." his encouraging smile led to you spilling what was on your mind – he'd always been easy to confide in.

"I've been doing some extra reading on further subjects," you start, chewing on a hangnail on your thumb. "about- about siphons."

Remus stilled. If you weren't so nervous you would have narrowed your eyes in suspicion.

"What have you learned so far?" his response was slow and curious; carefully constructed.

"Well other than the fact that they don't draw magic from their cores...nothing. And every book in the library says the same thing." you let out a frustrated sigh and he seems to take pity on you.

"Siphons are extremely rare, which you know, of course." one of his hands cups his jaw contemplatively, as if he's choosing his words with careful precision. "That's why there's so little information, because there are very few people alive who have been able to record their true nature.

What we do know, is that siphons can completely draw out sources of magic into themselves; drain it to nothing to gain that power. They're very volatile in thats sense because no one knows how much power they can truely handle."

He gave no indication that he saw the way your flinched at his words. You were grateful for it.

"But surely harbouring that much power would be dangerous? Nature demands a balance." you say in a small voice.

He mumbles your name with a knowing look of understanding before patting your shoulder, indicating an end to the conversation but you still catch his parting words: "Look in the restricted section, in books about forbidden magical and mythical creatures and you'll find what you're looking for. Consult Professor Dumbledore too, it would be more useful than soley relying on my account."

"Thankyou sir- Remus." he leaves you there, chuckling quietly at your correction as he let you know that he'd see you at dinner later in the day. You're left infinitely more confused than before you initiated the conversation, but as you left through the opposite door that led to the bedrooms upstairs to find Ginny, you failed to see the curious eyes of you best friend, hidden under his cloak of invisibility.

~∞~

Something had changed over the holidays. The air around the castle was different; a dark, sinister energy permeating the comforting warmth that the magical wards usually bathed the castle grounds in. You didn't know how you felt the shift moreso than your friends. Maybe it was the January weather, or the fact that you missed the comfort of home, but you knew in your gut that things were different now. Your stubbornness didn't want to admit that it could be a result of your new abilities that hadn't shown since Katie Bell's incident.

It became evident in your patrol evenings with Theodore, too. He was withdrawn, sullen and constantly aggravated; if he bothered to show up at all sometimes. You knew what it meant and you kept this piece of information to yourself, lest it gave your friends one more reason for you to avoid the Slytherins.

But you made a promise; one that you wouldn't break.

The change was even more evident in your sessions with Mattheo. He was pushing you to your limit, and getting exceedingly frustrated with you, for no reason. He was angry at the world and at you, apparently.

After a considerably hard yank at your innermost thoughts, you shoved him out with a glare, which he returned tenfold.

"Okay. Ow? Why are you being so aggressive?" you snap, massaging your throbbing temples. He scoffed at you and moved to stand, beginning to pace.

"What? You don't think someone trying to infiltrate your mind won't be? Don't be so naive, I can see all your thoughts. Shut. Me. Out." He spat your name out like it was filth to him, and you suppose it was at one point in time. Pushing youself to stand, you make your way to him so you were chest to chest.

"What is your problem?" you question, narrowing your eyes at him as he stared back with deadly, onyx eyes. He scoffed and turned away from you, fingers rubbing at his temples as if this whole conversation was giving him a headache.

"It is giving me a headache." he spat and your glare intensified. "You're not focused, your mind is unraveling at the seams. It's like you haven't made any progress at all."

You startled him with the cold laugh that escaped you. "That's rich." you spat, your pointer finger digging into his strong chest. "You're a hypocrite Mattheo. You have been unfocused for the last week. So answer me this: what is your issue?"

In seconds he had you pinned against a wall that you hadn't noticed he had been backing you into, his breathing heavy and cold as ice. His hand was wrapped loosely around the base of your throat, not tight enough to harm but enough to pose a threat.

"You know nothing about me, Princess." his voice was a low and deadly rasp that sent coils of dread right down to the tips of your toes, but you couldn't deny the blatent arousal that was beginning to fester. "You know nothing, yet you're still willing to be in a room with me. Willing to let me do things to you that your friends would abhor you for. Willing to keep secrets from the very people you should trust with your life."

You cursed the flush in your cheeks, and the lust in your eyes.

"You've been dancing with the devil for months, sweetheart." his voice was a nocuous whisper as his lips grazed your's with controlled precision. The sharp feeling of his teeth piercing your bottom lip invaded all your senses along with the metallic taste of blood. "You should've expected that I'd behave as such."

He kissed you then, an art of carefully thought out distraction as he sucked on the wound he created. But he underestimated you as you raked your fingers through his unruly, dark curls. Wandlessly, wordlessly, you willed the Legillimens spell to take hold and you were thrust into his mind, barraging through his fortified shields as if they were mere shadows ready to be swept away.

You were thrown into a seat at an overly large dinner table, that could seat at least thirty people, Bellatrix Lestrange seated adjacent to the seat opposite you, causing you to flinch at the phantom feeling of her cruciatus curse from the Department of Mysteries. The room was vast, with a towering ceiling filled with delicate Jacobean decor, it was dark and foreboding; you didn't want to be here.

You were sat to the right of Death himself.

Voldemort didn't acknowledge you and the words he spoke were a garbled blur of nothing as your attention was brought to the back of the room, by the double doors to the Entrance Hall. Draco Malfoy walked in, followed by Lorenzo and....and Theodore.

The next moment made you want to scream and cry as Mattheo was forced to stand before his friends, before Voldemort's loyal followers who were a mere spillage of darkness to your vision, and tortured by his own father. Somehow this was more painful than the memories you'd seen of his in those first few lessons; knowing it had been as recent as the week before. You gaped as Voldemort merely turned to Enzo and Theo; you fought tooth and nail to stop the inevitable as you watched them writhe and scream as the Dark Mark appeared on their left forearms.

You were shoved so violently from his mind that your head collided painfully with the wall behind you. You were staring at him, wide eyed and wincing as he glared down at you, murderously.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't- I'm sorry." you tried to catch your breath, only now realising that the hold he had on your throat had tightened upon reflex. Your hands flew to the singular wrist that helf your life in his hands, clawing as it flexed. "Mattheo-"

You watched in understandable horror as a smirk painted his beautiful face. Your wrists continued their assault with renewed vigour.

"I'm very impressed." he mumbled, his face drawing closer to your's, his voice a sensual whisper in your ear. "No one has ever been able to do what you just did."

He pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear and you trembled as the hold he had on your throat did not let up.

"What are you going to do to me?" you whispered hoarsely, fear painting your tone. He snickered at your predicament and the tightness surrounding your throat lessened considerably, but he maintained a loose grip, a warning.

"I want to do unspeakable things to you, sweetheart." he said, his voice a reflection of the arousal that was pressing heavily against your abdomen. His smirk widened as you shuddered at the way he said your name. "I'd like to think that I'm an honourable man. And I want to do the honourable thing, but I've resisted you for far too long."

Weeks worth of avoidance came to head in that moment as he surged forward, finally pressing his lips to your's. You could taste cigarettes on his tongue and his cologne filled your lungs with every breathe you managed to gasp between heated kisses. The wound on your lip pulsed from the attention, the pain causing a whine to crawl up the back of your throat. The kiss deepened.

His hands roamed over your entire body; hips, waist, thighs. Like he didn't know where to settle them, while his body pressed you further into the wall with pure male strength – you wanted to climb him like a tree. Somehow you managed to pull away from his ministrations, heavy breath mingling with his.

"You're not angry that I just broke through your shields?" you ask with a furrowed brow. He only lets out a quiet laugh as he shakes his head, leaning down to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck, then soothing the marred skin with presses of his lips and swipes of his tongue. You breathed out an airy moan at the sensation, tilting your head back to grant him more access.

"A little miffed." he mumbled agaist your skin. "But not angry. No one has ever been able to do that, except you apparently. Smart girl."

He didn't speak for another minute or so, content with marking your smooth skin instead.

"I'm proud. These lessons are paying off, it seems." and you hear it in the tone of his voice, the pride. You respond with a stifled laugh as he bites into the sensitive flesh of your collarbone and you swat at his shoulders.

"You're always content in making my life difficult." you tut, but make no move to stop him as he begins to unravel the knot in your tie. "Do you know how long it takes to cover these up? With and without magic!"

"Don't want you to cover them up." he mumbles, so quietly that you almost miss it. But you don't miss the possessive gleam that ignited in his onyx eyes. "You're mine."

You're mine. The words echoed through every corner of your mind.

"Am I?" you challenge and you pull him closer to you as you weave the fabric of his tie through your fingers. He growls as he rips your school shirt in two, ignoring your admonishing protests as he pulls it from your body. This continues until your stood in nothing but your under garments.

"Beautiful." he mumbles as he traces featherlight touches down your body with his calloused hands. "Absolutely breathtaking."

"Well I don't think it's very fair that I'm the only one whose indecent." you snark, though your attempts at hiding your anticipation were rubbish at best.

"So undress me, darling." he says after a split second of reluctance, his voice low and demanding, it makes your thighs clench. Looking at him through dark lashes, you begin to unknot his tie, slow and teasing. The buttons of his shirt are next, popped one by one by your nimble fingers; when you raise to your tiptoes to smoothly remove his shirt from his shoulders he tenses as you come face to face with his lean, quidditch built torso.

That's when you see it. Ink black and imposing against his tanned, muscular forearm. Covered in thick scars, old and new, was the Dark Mark. Your breath hitched in your throat as you trailed your fingers lightly across it. Mattheo shivered at the feeling.

"Scared?" he asks, voice low, you almost detect a hint of shame...or something else.

"Of you?" you ask, taking his left hand in both of your's, fingers running soft circles across his palm. "No."

"You should be." he says it like he believes it to be true. His fingers flex in your hold and then tighten, squeezing your's in earnest.

"I'm scared for you, Mattheo. For all of you. This," your pointer finger trails against the Mark, "isn't fair."

He smiles at you then, all soft and sad and heartbreaking. "This is the life I've been dealt, love. No use in trying to stop it."

You brought his forearm level with your face and begin to press gentle kisses to his marred skin. His breath hitches and you can't place the look he gives you.

"You're not a monster." you mumble between soft caresses. "You're kind and intelligent, and compassionate and honourable. You've been dealt an awful card, yet you haven't let it ruin you. Not entirely. That says everything and more, Matty."

"Say that again." he says, onyx eyes staring resolutely into your's.

"Say what?" you ask, brows furrowed as he practically rips his arm from your hold, only to pull you closer to him by your waist. You both seem to realise that you're both near naked – only your underwear and his trousers separating the two of you. Your cheeks heat.

"My name. Say it."

"Make me." you say with a barely contained smirk. He lets out a near growl as he cups the back of your neck in his giant palms and presses a demanding kiss to your kiss-swollen lips.

It's not pretty. It's all teeth-gnashing and lip biting and purely animalistic.

You'd both been resisting eachother past blind fumbles in the dark and post-session make outs but you'd never been this exposed to each other before. It was exhilarating.

"Fuck!" he gritted against you. "You're so fucking pretty."

You whimpered against him as he sucked at your tongue, and that seemed to push him past his controlled limit. One of his hands guides your thigh to rest against his hip and he battles with his trousers to get them low enough to release his painfully hard cock.

You're not one to beg often, but your desire for the boy in front of you was too great to ignore. With a mewl and a whisper of pleas he pushed the fabric of your panties aside and pushed into you. The tightness and the pain of the action made you both groan in unison.

"Gods, sweetheart. You feel so much better than I imagined." he says against your lips as he pushes in to the hilt. He presses away the tears that fall from your eyes.

"Please move." you say as you attach your lips to his neck in an effort to stifle your moans as he begins at a slow pace, graciously letting you adjust to his size. He's bigger than anyone you'd had before him, the tip of him grazing places you didn't think was possible to reach. You were a mess of whines and moans as he adjusted you in his hold; letting out a shriek when he begins to repeatedly ram against a spot inside you that brought you immediate pleasure.

"Gods! Right there Matty, fuck....please!"

He smiles a wicked, sinister smile at you as he drags one moan after another from your lips. He takes both your hands into one of his and pins them above your head, restricting you to the wall.

"That's it, sweetheart." Mattheo rasps, revelling in the way you clench around him. "Moan my name."

His movements are precise and controlled. His pleasure deriving from the way he was making you come undone at the seams. He brings his free hand to the apex of your thighs, brushing them against your throbbing clit, smirking as his motion draws you closer to your orgasm.

You're not certain how long has passed since he entered you, but you feel like you're having an out of body experience as he rips an orgasm from you so suddenly that you don't know where the pleasure starts and ends.

You're a whimpering, moaning mess as he uses the extra slick to speed up his movements, which become erratic and lose their rhythm as he gets closer to his own release. The only sound to be heard are your soft whines, his grunts and the sound of skin slapping against skin as he finally reaches his own climax.

His forehead rests against your's, both gleaming with a light layer of sweat as you bask in the feeling of him. His dark brows furrow as you let out a soft laugh.

"What's so funny?" he asks, a light smile gracing his face as he memorises every inch of your skin.

"I think you just ruined me for anyone else." you say, breathless.

"Good." he growls, that possessive gleam in his eyes again as you feel him harden inside you. "As far as I'm concerned no one else can have you."

He's rolling his hips against your's before you can utter a snarky response.

~∞~

The next time you see Mattheo is in the Potions classroom the following day.

"How are you so good at everything you do, Meadow?" Ron grumbled as he read through the instructions of the healing potion Slughorn was making you all brew.

You had just finished an apparition lesson; by the end of the two hours, only you, Hermione, Mattheo's group of friends and a handful of others had managed to apparate from one side of the room to the hoop at the other. Harry and Ron were not part of that group.

"Well unlike you, Won-Won," Hermione sneered from across the table, "she takes pride in her academic accomplishments."

The redhead scoffed. "Mione come on-"

"Don't call me that." she snapped, going on a rant about Ron's incompetence. He only spluttered in response. You and Harry only exchanged uneasy looks as they continued arguing.

"I thought this would've ended by now." you say under your breathe as you drop in your next ingredient, huffing when it does the opposite of what it should. Harry mumbled his agreement as he completed his own potion. You looked between his and your's incredulously. "Why does your's look different to mine? Is it that book?"

You glared at him with pleading eyes and Harry huffed as he slid the Halfblood Prince's book so you could see. Your body ached as you read through the annotations. You winced as you rolled your neck to get rid of the tightness and Harry noticed your discomfort straight away.

"You okay, Meadow?" he asks, his hand gracing your shoulder blade. You both looked up at the sound of a knife clattering against a table top. Mattheo was glaring at the hand that Harry still kept on your shoulder, you huffed as you turned to your friend.

"Fine. Just sore from apparition lessons is all." you smiled reassuringly which seems to convince him as Harry removes his hand from you.

Faintly you hear Pansy question why Mattheo was acting so strangely and you try your hardest to ignore it. Until you couldn't any longer, because he was in your head.

Why the fuck was he touching you like that? His voice was a dark growl in your mind.

Wow possessive much? You reply with a mental scoff. He was asking if I was okay.

The agression in his tone softened and he sent a wave of concern your way. Are you? Okay, I mean? What's wrong?

You can't help the smile that paints your face, and you have to duck your head to hide it from your oblivious friends. I'm fine.

You can practically see as well as feel the look he gives you all the way across the room. You clearly aren't. Tell me what's wrong.

You look like you're about to incinerate the tabletop. I'm okay, Matty, really. Just sore. You curse him internally as he smirks wickedly, onyx eyes dancing with pride and hunger.

I'd gladly satisfy you again, darling. Just say the word.

You kick him from your mind, ignoring the flush that overtakes your heated face. Then you send flares of annoyance to him as you hear his snickering laughter that he barely conceals.

~∞~

when i was researching siphoner lore literally the only thing that came up was vampire diaries theories 😭😭😭

the smut took a different direction to what i intended tbh but i wanted to include some soft Matty 😅

taglist:

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost @weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @sunasbbie @rainy-darling @faeriepigeons @lovely-blackinnon @topguncultleader @gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome @nopedefe @spencerreidsthings @navs-bhat @agent-tempest @magimtz23

#mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle #harry potter #serendipity series

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withleeknow · 4 months

Text

wishful thinking. (02)

chapter two: in plain sight

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut warnings: cursing, drinking, suggestive content at the end, could've been edited more but oh well lol word count: 4.9k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › series masterpost › taglist

Damn baby, I'm a train wreck, too I lose my mind when it comes to you I take time with the ones I choose And I don't want to smile if it ain't from you

boyfriend - Ariana Grande ft. Social House

You end up not seeing Minho, nor any of your other friends, at all in the few days leading up to Yeonjun’s party.

True to your words, you were mostly holed up in your place, running on nothing but caffeine and sheer frustration, trying to finish your elective class’ final paper on the differences between the views of Greek philosophers. Time really flies when you wish it would slow down, because you could've used a couple more days to perfect the godforsaken thing.

You’ve been texting Minho though, and honestly, the man is practically a saint. You barely even talked about anything besides your stupid paper and your high maintenance perfectionist professor, and yet, he still listened to you yap away. He even offered to help you with your footnotes and citations, which you didn’t need, but the gesture was nice. If you had turned to Seungmin with your whining, he probably would've muted your notifications after three messages.

Regardless, all complaining aside, you did manage to pull through and finish the paper in the end, letting out a big sigh of relief the very second you clicked on the Send button on yours and your professor’s email thread just five minutes before the deadline.

Before you know it, it's already Saturday and Minho should be here any minute now so you two could go to the party. You’ve been working hard. You deserve to let a little loose tonight.

Even though a college party isn’t exactly your top choice of ways to wind down from stress, the mention of free and unlimited booze sure does sound alluring.

When your phone lights up with a simple i’m here from Minho, you quickly throw on a cardigan over a simple black camisole and denim shorts and check your makeup in the mirror one last time before heading downstairs. He texted you a couple hours ago, saying he had some stuff to pick up near your place and asking if you wanted to walk to Yeonjun’s together. You sent him back an enthusiastic yes!!! in a matter of seconds, because lord knows you’d rather not enter the front door of that house unaccompanied.

You opted for a simple fit tonight, mostly because you couldn’t be bothered to put on anything more decent only to go to the equivalent of a frat party.

“Hey, Min.” Your voice pulls him away from scrolling through his phone, diverting his attention to you instead.

“Hey,” he says, tucking the device into the pocket of his jeans. When he gives you a once-over, you do a little twirl for him, finishing off with an exaggerated kick of your foot at the end. “You look nice.”

“Just ‘nice’? I’m trying to get laid tonight. ‘Nice’ isn’t gonna cut it,” you joke.

He stares at you, a bashful expression befalling his features, the corner of his mouth lifted upward as he smiles in hubris. “You’re trying to get laid by whom?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “You tell me.”

He rolls his eyes affectionately before throwing an arm around your shoulders to pull you close. One of his hands musses up your hair that you spent twenty minutes trying to make look perfect, prompting you to poke him in the side so he would let go of you.

“Hey!” you scowl, smoothing over the strands that he flicked out of place. “I worked hard on that!”

“Sorry,” he chuckles, clearly amused by the temporarily sulky look on your face. “Didn’t want you to look too pretty. Can’t have all of the attention on you. Someone might try to steal you away from me.”

“Did it occur to you that maybe I want some attention tonight? I’ve been a hermit all week, I deserve a little something.”

“Is my attention not enough for you?”

You squint at him for a second. Then, you start walking in the direction of Yeonjun’s house without waiting for him. You hear Minho launch a laugh your way, and the scuffling of his shoes on the concrete pavement as he easily catches up with you in a few strides.

He leans down to whisper directly into your ear, making your cheeks heat up but you’re glad that they’re partially masked by the poorly lit street. “You know you never have to try.”

The walk to the party takes about fifteen minutes. When you’re rounding the street corner that leads to Yeonjun’s place, you can already hear the booming music coming from the biggest house on the block. Even from a distance, you can see people on the lawn and the two balconies on the second floor. You gotta give it to the guy - he sure knows how to throw a party.

The second you enter the premises, you’re almost taken aback by how crowded it actually is even though you expected this. A typical Yeonjun party.

You tug on Minho’s shirt, beckoning him to bend down so you could talk into his ear over the sounds of bad EDM and people basically having to scream in each other’s faces. “Are Hyunjin and the others here yet?” you ask.

“They got here right before us. I think they’re in-”

“Y/N!” The two of you whip around at the sound of a shrill voice calling out your name. Yeonjun practically shoves his way through the crowd of people when he spots you, bounding up to you and Minho with a bright grin on his face. “Glad you could make it!” he says, paying no mind to the man next to you at all. He eyes you up and down, shamelessly tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. “Damn, you look really good tonight.”

You give him a playful eye roll. Nonetheless, you still tell him, “Thanks.”

“You look that good to come to my party?”

You don’t mind at all the fact that Yeonjun is a natural flirt. That’s just a part of his personality, he’s inherently charming like that. It’s harmless and it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. Everything is all in good fun.

“Would you believe me if I said this is what I’d wear on a midnight convenience store run?”

“Ouch, you wound me.” Yeonjun says, holding a hand over his heart to emphasize his point. “C’mon, you can admit it.”

You open your mouth, a quick comeback about to be thrown his way but Minho chimes in from beside you.

“You should believe her,” he deadpans, stepping closer to you, one of his hands grazing your back. He's even standing straighter, with his chest all puffed out. “She even dresses like that when she takes out the trash.”

You turn to gasp at him before punching him right in the pec. “Hey!” Yeonjun is all but forgotten in a blink of an eye, because you have to defend your honor first.

“What? I’ve seen you do it wearing this exact same outfit.”

“Stop lying. It’s not true.”

“Isn’t it? I distinctly remember you wearing this when you went to take out the trash that night a couple of weeks ago while we were hanging out at your place.”

“Nuh uh. I didn’t take out the trash that night,” you protest, frowning. “I made you throw it out for me on your way-”

Yeonjun interrupts you with a chuckle, glancing between you and Minho as he gives your friend's shoulder an awkward pat. They share a look that you don’t quite understand. “Alright, duly noted. I’m gonna make myself scarce,” he says. “Help yourselves. Booze is in the kitchen!”

After you’ve finally squeezed your way into the kitchen that’s overflowing with people, you narrow your eyes at Minho. “What was that about?”

“What?” He scans the selection of liquor bottles on the kitchen island before asking you, “Rum and Coke?”

Your favorite.

You nod eagerly, momentarily distracted before you have to circle back to your question.

“What was all that back there with Yeonjun, Mr. Grumpy Cat?”

“What was what?” He pulls out two solo cups from a nearby stack, along with some napkins, and meticulously wipes the plastic cups even though they look pretty clean to you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You raise a disbelieving eyebrow. He shrugs.

“I didn’t know you and Yeonjun were that close.” Minho seems casual as he tells you this, not looking at you as he fetches the necessary liquor and soda from the sea of glass and plastic bottles in front of you.

“We’re not. I’m kinda friends with him because Jess is friends with him.”

“Okay,” he acknowledges, though he doesn’t seem entirely pleased with… you don’t even know what. “I don’t like him. He’s loud.”

“That’s not a reason. Aren’t you friends with him too?”

You watch as he mixes your drinks, a sight you’re familiar with whenever you attend house parties together. He’s always your designated bartender.

One for you, one for him.

One part rum, two and a half parts coke.

“It is a reason. And ‘friends’ is a stretch,” he says, handing you your cup before he tends to his own. His has less liquor in it, because you both know you like yours stronger. “We’re acquaintances at best.”

“You’re loud too.”

“My brand of loud is different.”

“Is it?”

He gives you a look. An offended cat, if you’ve ever seen one.

“Well, Yeonjun’s not bad,” you tell him. You take a sip of the drink, then give him a subsequent thumbs-up. “He can be a bit much for some people, but I don’t really mind it.”

When he’s done, you both try to navigate the battlefield that is Yeonjun’s extremely cramped abode. You try to stay as close to him as possible, meaning away from the loud boys that are either trying to get shitfaced as quickly as possible, or trying to suck faces with any girl they could find as quickly as possible.

“Still. You don’t think the flirting was a bit much?”

Minho pulls you to him by your elbow when some guy - probably a little more than tipsy, judging by the unsteadiness of the legs that carry him - tries to bulldoze his way through the crowd behind you.

“He’s always like that. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s harmless.”

“If he asks you out, would you say yes?”

You blink at him in surprise, feeling like the question came out of nowhere. “What kind of question is that?”

“It’s just a question,” he says, then repeats himself. “So, if he asks you out, would you say yes?”

You let him guide you to a spot that’s more breathable, where people aren’t practically on top of each other trying to weave their way through. You think about it for a second, then realize that there isn’t much to think about. “No,” you say decisively.

Because it doesn’t make sense to envision you and Yeonjun together. You practically sit on two opposing ends of the same spectrum. People often say that opposites attract, but this isn’t one of those cases.

And… because you simply feel strange thinking about yourself and someone else. Like it's something you shouldn't do.

Minho gives you a hum in acknowledgment of your answer, which you barely catch over the loudness of the party. You do catch the hint of a smile that tugs at the corner of his lip though, before he cranes his neck to scan the room for any trace of your gang of thieves.

“If I didn’t know any better,” you run the words over in your head before you decide to utter them out loud. Like you told him just now, harmless, right? “I’d say you’re jealous of Yeonjun.”

He turns, stares at you for a moment with unreadable eyes.

“And what if I am?”

There’s something incredulous in the way you look at him. You think he would just wave you off or roll his eyes and move onto a new topic, not expecting him to fire back with a question you can’t really answer.

Or maybe he’s just playing along. You can’t tell.

“Am I that good in bed?” you chuckle, hoping he doesn’t notice the inkling of nervousness in your voice. “Did I do a number on you?”

He raises both eyebrows, pursing his lips as if in thought. Then, he answers, “Something like that.”

There’s a part of you that wants to dig deeper, to get him to say what he really means because there’s something in his eyes and there’s something in the way that his hand has moved to its designated place on the small of your back that makes your stomach roll with anticipation.

Again, you don’t like that he keeps getting harder for you to read.

You try to think of words to say, of questions to ask, though you know this party isn’t the best place to voice them. “What d-”

“There you are!” Hyunjin pops up from behind Minho, practically jumping onto his back like a jumpscare ghost in a horror game, startling the both of you and almost making the grumpy cat spill his drink. Minho groans as he tries to shove his friend off, before sending Hyunjin a glare that makes the man bow his head in apology. He promptly drags you to where your friends are gathered on a big couch near the back of the room - Chan and his girlfriend Jess, Seungmin, Changbin, along with a distinct absence of a few more faces.

“Where are the others?” you ask, plopping down next to Changbin, followed suit by Minho.

“Jisung is stuck finishing a project,” Chan informs you. “And Jeongin is taking his girl to that new drive-in movie place.”

“They’re still in their honeymoon phase?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Ah yes, young love. Good for them.”

You catch up with everyone about your week, about their week; gossip about how much Yeonjun might’ve spent on this party and where his family’s downright insane wealth actually comes from, about Seungmin’s on-and-off situationship (which might be more interesting than all of the above).

Minho remains seated next to you the entire time you’re all drinking and laughing with each other. He keeps subtly touching you one way or another - a hand on your back because no one’s really noticing, a shoulder brushing yours, a thigh touching yours, a knee nudging your own every now and then.

It’s not until you finish your drink that Minho asks if you want another one, then stands up to head to the kitchen when you say Yes, please.

The second he’s out of earshot, Hyunjin jumps into action, motioning for everyone to huddle together, like he’s about to share classified information.

“Minho is seeing someone,” he says immediately.

“What?” Changbin asks. You hope he doesn’t notice the way your body immediately stiffens at the conversation’s sudden turn. You try to look as nonchalant and quiet as possible, as if this is just a talk about the weather, missing the way a pair of eyes flits to you outside of your peripheral vision.

Hyunjin purses his lips, before clarifying, “I went through his phone last week.”

“You went through his phone?” Chan frowns, shaking his head disapprovingly. “That’s not cool, dude.”

“He was in the bathroom and his phone was just sitting there unlocked. Then he got a text and I had to!” Hyunjin holds up his hands defensively. “Anyway, I don’t know if they’re dating or if they’re just fooling around, but there is someone! He’s simping hard.”

“How do you know that?” Seungmin chimes in. “Do you even know who it is?”

“I don’t know who it is. That’s what I need you guys to help me find out. There wasn’t a name name. He just calls her his-”

“What on earth are you guys doing?” Minho’s voice makes everyone disperse, leaning back into their respective seats like they were caught doing something they shouldn’t. He sits down beside you again, handing you your cup back. You give him an appreciative but awkward smile. “What is Hyunjin blabbing about this time?”

“Nothing!” Hyunjin practically squeaks. The poor guy can’t spin a little white lie to save his life. Then he has the audacity to look offended as he gapes, “Also, why did you automatically assume it was me?”

“Because it’s always you at the scene of the crime.”

“It happened one time! No, twice. It was only those two ti-!”

Seungmin cuts in flatly. “He said you’re whipped for a girl you’re seeing.”

Everyone stops to stare at Minho. Even you turn your head to look at him, trying to gauge how he’ll respond to this. It makes you a little guilty, seeing that you’re part of the secret too, and yet he has to shoulder the lies by himself.

Well, technically, there hasn’t been any lying involved up until now. Just a simple withholding of the truth.

His face hardens for a brief moment, and you think he lets it show on purpose - his way of telling Hyunjin that he’s annoyed - because Minho can put on a flawless poker face when he wants to. There’s a couple of seconds where he clenches his jaw before he relaxes, the sharpness of his features softening as he shrugs off the accusation. “I am most certainly not whipped for anyone,” he says. “It’s just a casual thing.”

“If it’s just casual, why were you being so secretive about it, huh?” Hyunjin prods.

“I wasn’t being secretive. I just didn’t think it was anybody’s business,” Minho answers coolly.

“We’re your best friends! I tell you guys everything.”

“You sure do. Even things I’d rather not hear about.”

Jess and Changbin burst into light laughter, and you chuckle along with them but you don’t really find it that funny. You’re just trying to blend into the background, be a fly on the wall and observe how things unfold. Minho has assured you that there’s nothing for you to worry about, that there’s no way they could find out about the secret, but still.

Hyunjin groans exasperatedly. The nosiest drama queen you know. “Seriously, who’s the girl? I’m dying of curiosity here!”

“Drop it.” Minho glares at him.

“Just give me a hint! Is it someone we know?”

“You haven’t eaten tissues in a while, have you?”

“Try me. I’m not scared of you anymore.”

“Hyunjin, I swear to-”

“Okay!” Chan claps his hands together suddenly. “Let’s just all agree that we are all entitled to our privacy and people can share whatever they want with whoever they want when they’re comfortable, yeah?”

Everyone nods in agreement, except for Hyunjin who narrows his eyes petulantly at Minho as if to say This isn’t over. No one wants to poke a disgruntled tiger, let alone about something he seems so disinterested in sharing. Minho has always been a notoriously private person, even with the rest of the group.

Changbin shuffles a new topic into the mix to move things along, which you aren’t very keen on contributing to at the moment. When no one seems to be looking, Minho places a hand on your knee, rubbing it soothingly as if he can sense the unease that you’re feeling. It makes you glance at him, though neither of you says anything. You just look at each other for a moment, then turn back to the group when someone calls your name.

Two hours and three rum and coke’s later, you were coming down from a good high when someone suggested ditching Yeonjun’s party to go to a club.

Normally, you would say no. You could only do one social event at a time, needing to recharge your metaphorical battery before you let yourself be dragged into the next one.

But you decided to make an exception for tonight.

Though, you promptly realized that it was probably a mistake.

You prefer the loudness of Yeonjun’s party than here. It’s loud and crowded, since it’s a Saturday night, and since it’s a club. The air is sticky and stuffy. The lights are perpetually blinding and headache-inducing. You’re not even on the dancefloor; you’re just hovering near the entrance and the bar, and there’s still barely any room to move. People keep trying to shove you out of their way, even with Minho attempting to act as your human shield.

You let your displeasure be known through a deep frown.

Minho catches onto your chagrin almost immediately. “What’s wrong?” he asks, leaning close to your ear to make sure you hear him over the music.

“Too many people,” you try to raise your voice so the booming noises don’t drown you out. “Can we go somewhere over there?”

He turns around, taps on Chan’s shoulder to get his attention before gesturing vaguely to that spot near the back that you just pointed out to him, presumably to let the others know that you’ll be wandering over there.

He takes your hand and leads the way. In the back, it’s still loud but less deafening than before, and much less crowded compared to the areas surrounding the dance floor.

“Better?” he asks.

You lean against the wall though you probably shouldn’t. The ick is apparent, but at this point in the night, you yourself are already feeling pretty gross anyway.

“A little bit,” you say. “Thanks.”

“You wanna go home? We can leave if you want.”

“Without saying goodbye?”

“Did you know that people who leave parties without saying goodbye save two days a year? It’s been researched.”

You rephrase your words so Minho would understand better. “Without Hyunjin’s permission?”

“Hyunjin has been pissing me off plenty all week. I can play my card for you.”

“What card?”

“The ‘I don’t give a fuck’ card.”

You tilt your head, clearly amused. “And how does that usually work out for you?”

“I don’t care how it works out because Hyunjin is not gonna do anything to me.” He shrugs. “Besides, I can always just throw him in the airfryer when he gets too annoying.”

This makes you laugh, recalling the exact moment Minho brought up the legendary instructions on how to cook Hyunjin.

“How violent,” you comment with a snort.

“He deserves it.”

“You know you still have a soft spot for him,” you say.

“I have a soft spot for you,” he replies.

“Now look who’s trying to get laid.”

He grins. “Could you blame me?”

Some drunk girls stumble into your space on their way to the bathroom, bumping into you, pushing you into Minho’s body where he instinctively puts a hand on your back to keep you steady. You glance up at him after the girls have safely arrived at the bathroom, only to find him already staring down at you. His back is turned toward where the lights are coming from and the angle shrouds his face in darkness, but you can still make out the stars twinkling in his eyes.

The sudden lack of space between your bodies makes your breath hitch.

“Are you still drunk?” he asks.

“No. Not really.” You don’t like the way your voice comes out small, vulnerable.

“I…” he starts, hesitating for a moment before he continues. His eyes flicker to your lips, and the breath that was previously caught in your throat further thickens. “Fuck, I really want to kiss you right now.”

For some reason, your heart leaps to your throat. It’s probably because of the remnants of alcohol refusing to leave your system, because how else would you explain the way your pulse quickens just from hearing those words coming from him?

He bites his lip, similar to how Yeonjun did it just a few hours ago, but seeing Minho do it is at least a hundred times more enticing.

You want him to kiss you too. You really do.

“What if the others see?” you protest meekly, but you’re already staring at his mouth, finding yourself gravitating toward him like he’s got you hypnotized.

“We’re all the way back here,” he tells you. “They won’t see anything.”

He leans closer until his lips are brushing yours. With a hand on your hip and the other on the back of your head, he meets your mouth in a soft kiss, which is a stark contrast to the upbeat and booming music blasting all around you. Some guy drunkenly gives you two a sleazy whistle, the sound coming from somewhere on your right, but neither of you pays it any attention.

Your hands come to clutch at the collar of his shirt like a lifeline. He’s never kissed you outside of the comfort of your bedroom before, let alone amidst a sea of people like this. It feels strange to be intimate with him in public, but at the same time, it excites you. There’s still a sense of anonymity because you’re camouflaged by the lights, masked by the darkness, hiding in plain sight.

The kiss gets more heated. He guides you a step back until you’re all pressed up against the wall, your hands tangling in his hair, tugging on it the way he likes that makes him groan against your mouth. He sucks on your bottom lip before shoving his tongue into your mouth, the wet muscle dancing with yours, making your knees buckle. It’s dizzying. It makes your head spin, and you don’t know if it’s because there’s still enough residual alcohol in your system to knock your world off its axis, or if it’s just him.

The hand previously on your hips sneaks underneath your shirt to rub at your bare skin. He gropes your breasts over the bralette you chose to wear tonight, squeezing the soft flesh in his palm, all the while slotting one of his legs between yours to help you grind on him. Your clothed cunt rolls over the denim of his jeans, and even though the friction is coarse and your movements are limited in this crowded space, the pleasure still sets your entire body alight. Minho spreads all over you like wildfire, and Minho consumes you like a hurricane.

You moan into his mouth when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, over the flimsy material of your undergarment. “Min,” you whimper desperately. You don’t know if he can hear you over the obnoxiously loud sounds coming from the speakers littered all over the place, but he groans against your mouth regardless. Almost like the nickname is driving him crazy.

He pulls back just slightly, to let the both of you catch your breath. “Should we go back to yours?” he asks, eyes still focused on your mouth.

You nod eagerly. You know you must be wet as hell right now, and if you have to wait any longer, you will probably explode from frustration. You might just drag him into that disgusting bathroom over there and let him have his way with you, but you will definitely regret it afterward because it’s a bathroom in a nightclub. It’s beyond revolting.

He helps you smooth out your hair, gentle and tender. In turn, you wipe your lipstick smudges on his face. Instead of taking you by the hand like he did earlier, he wraps an arm around your shoulder and navigates the two of you through the crowd, shielding you from anyone who might bump into you. You lean into the touch; it’s just comforting.

As you make your way back to the group - or what’s left of the group at the moment - his hand drops to his side again. There’s an inkling of disappointment that blossoms in you, but it dissipates quickly when Hyunjin spots you and lights up. Him and Seungmin are at the bar, seemingly trying to get the bartender’s attention. Changbin is next to them, but he doesn’t seem to care about anything other than the girl he’s chatting with. You try to scan the crowd for Chan and Jess, and find them a couple minutes later, standing in a corner, pressed up against each other just like you and Minho moments ago.

“Where did you run off to?” Hyunjin asks. Clearly Chan was too preoccupied with his girlfriend to relay the information.

“It’s too loud in here, I was getting a headache,” you say, only half a lie. You know your face must still be flushed from your impromptu makeout session, but you hope your friend can’t see the rosy shade painting your skin under all the flashing lights. “Min and I just went back there to see if it was quieter.”

“Okay.” He seems to believe you. “We’re trying to get drinks! You want anything?”

“I think I’m gonna just go home. You guys stay and have fun though.”

Hyunjin looks at you like he’s so flabbergasted. “It’s not even 3AM yet!”

“Headache,” you say, pointing to your temple with an exaggeratedly pained expression on your face. “I’ll stay out all night with you next time.”

“But-!” The second he opens his mouth to protest, Minho cuts in sharply, his tone leaving no room for anyone to argue despite the gigantic pout on Hyunjin’s face.

“I’m gonna take her home and call it a night too,” he simply says.

Hyunjin groans, but he relents in the end, muttering to you something that sounds like “You owe me one,” when you go to hug him goodbye. Before you and Minho can reach the door, you hear your man child of a friend call after you two in his pterodactyl voice, “Don’t make Minho’s girl jealous!”

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justporo · 6 months

Text

Office Hours

Author's Note: This - this is finally the promised wizard smut with Professor Gale Dekarios. I've written this as a fill for Kinktober Challenge. Please enjoy, while I go bury myself. I'm so excited to hear your feedback, because writing this was daunting. Happy Halloween!

Summary: You took up a PhD project under the infamous Professor for Wizardry Gale Dekarios but you also have a huge crush on him. Stuff getting a little heated at a party could almost ruin your future though. Things between you and Professor Dekarios are tense from there on out - until you go to confront him about it. (All characters are over 18!)

Pairing: Professor!Gale / Fem!Tav (You) Rating: Explicit Warnings: explicit sexual content! Wordcount: 8,2k (I'm so sorry...)

~~~

Another shot of tequila was placed in front of you.

“Bottom’s up, love!”, Astarion cheerfully exclaimed and clanked his own shot against yours. You drunkenly turned your head towards him. As always when you went for a night out with your best friend, he kept putting drinks (and a reasonable amount of water in between) in front of you while he barely seemed to get drunk.

“We’re not even bothering with salt and lem-lemons anymore?”, you drawled sluggishly. It was time to stop soon as long as you were still able to remember what you were doing.

Astarion didn’t even reply just kept swaying to the beat of the current song blasting through the club and clinked his glass against yours again to make you take it. And so you did.

You both threw your drinks back and shuddered when the liquor ran down your throats. “You’re really pushing me tonight, Astarion”, you screamed over the loud blasting music.

“Yeah well”, he shrugged as his eyes wandered back to the dancefloor and the hunk of a man he’d been dancing with almost the whole night – at least when you hadn’t danced with him.

“It’s not every day that my bestie has to celebrate that renowned PhD position with the infamous Professor Dekarios, is it?”, Astarion screamed back at you.

And it was true, it most definitely wasn’t every day. Because not only did you get the approval of the prodigy professor who was famously known for being strict and very demanding to be your supervisor. But you were the only one he’d taken on for a PhD project since… well, since he was in the position to do so it seemed. he’d t

But you had thus far always excelled in his classes. You’d been the very role model student during your time here.

And sure, you had worked your ass off for it, but it was well worth it. A finished PhD under a prodigy such as Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep would open you every door in the wizarding world.

It might also have helped that you had a huge crush on Professor Dekarios. The way this man spoke passionately about all things Wizardry and Weave had captured you from the very beginning. Just how his whole demeanor changed when he started talking about his research and how passionate he became. The way his eyes lit up when he got to talk about his work.

And then also: how he absent-mindedly let his hands wander through his hair when he was thinking about how to word something. How he let his thumb wander over his bottom lip as he intently listened to one of your questions and praised you afterwards for how clever it had been.

It was safe to say you had found yourself daydreaming about what else that man could do with that eloquent mouth of his more than once. Or how it would be if he praised you for more than just your smartass little questions.

“You know he’s here tonight, don’t you? Since it’s a faculty party”, Astarion kept on yelling into your ear, already grabbing the shot glasses to go get more.

“WHAT?”, you screamed – and this time it was clearly audible over the music in the club. You stared at Astarion in shock.

“Love, it’s your faculty and you brought me here, might I add. Shouldn’t you know about this kind of stuff? I saw him when I went to the bar”, Astarion yelled back with a mocking grin. Then he was off again with a naughty wink to get new drinks.

He was right. He was actually a history PhD student and had nothing to do with your wizarding studies. And still he always seemed to be better informed about these gossipy bits of information.

You gulped when you were reminded of what kind of revealing dress you were wearing tonight – black, short, low cut waterfall neckline. The thought that Professor Dekarios might have seen you in it and how you had danced in it – it scared you and excited you at the same time.

The fact that you were already solidly drunk definitely meant that it was leaning more towards the latter.

And then, sure as all Hells, you saw him: Professor Gale Dekarios walking into this part of club.

He looked a little out of place with his slacks and shirt-sweater combination – totally dressed for teaching, grading and researching and not for going down at the club.

Dekarios walked over to some people standing in a loose circle – people you realised now were other faculty members. You watched him intently – noticing the little details while you were drowned by increasingly unhinged thoughts. You saw that his shirt wasn’t neatly tugged in anymore, one hand was casually in his pocket while the other held a glass of red wine nonchalantly by the rim – letting it hang by his side. Sometime during conversation, he absent-mindedly dragged his hand through his hair. He always did that when he was deep in thought or having one of his passionate scholarly monologues during a lecture.

For all the scholarly nerdiness (and sometimes cute awkwardness) this man possessed – he was effortlessly sexy when he felt relaxed it seemed. And man, were you down bad for him.

You were still staring at Dekarios’ butt – that actually looked formidable in his slacks - when Astarion returned and slid another drink over to you. He saw how absent-mindedly you were staring off into the distance and tried to figure out what you were looking at.

When he did, a feral grin split his face: “Honestly, I’d fuck him if given the chance.”

“Astarion!” You whacked his arm as you were ripped out of your stupor.

“Don’t act like that, sweetheart, I know you would get on your knees so quickly for that man. I’ve had to listen to your horny yearnings for two years, remember?”

You blushed because he was right – as he sadly mostly was. The shit-eating grin stayed firmly on Astarion’s stupid face as he looked at you

“Yeah, as if anything would ever happen”, you simply retorted then, not wanting to indulge your friend’s insolent behaviour any further.

“And yet you keep wearing sluttly little outfits to all his classes”, Astarion drawled and his eyebrow twitched while he called you out. “I do believe even wizards have eyes to see what is right in front of them – even though it’s mostly just books.”

“That coming from a godsdamned history student is really low”, you replied and left it at that.

You were not having this conversation right now. So you settled for whacking Astarion’s arm again - which made him hiss at you that he hadn’t even said anything anymore - and then grabbing the drink he’d brought you, downing it in one go.

“Maybe instead of calling me out you could double down on your other best friend duties and go dance with me again?”, you suggested after suppressing a shudder from the downed alcohol.

Astarion just replied with grinning at you and stretched out his arm in an elegant gesture towards the dancefloor, motioning you to get going then.

You went and danced, having even some more drinks while doing that. That man built like a massive tree eventually joined the two of you as he had been dancing with Astarion before. He introduced himself as Halsin and told you that he was a visiting researcher – only staying for a little while at your institution.

You exchanged some small talk per screaming while on the dancefloor. But shortly after it was back to your best friend Astarion and him dancing and eventually even making out with each other.

You didn’t mind at all – in fact you were happy Astarion seemed to enjoy himself. And you happily let them have their space and just let yourself be taken by the music.

You swayed and rocked to the beats, lifted your arms and rolled your hips – enjoying how good the movements made you feel.

A soft buzz coming from your hip and the tiny bag swinging there made you look at your phone after a while. It was Astarion.

“Gonna leave with our new friend if that’s ok with u? Wanna make sure he remembers his time here well!”

Gods, even after a night out with lots of drinking Astarion was still wasting time on being eloquent.

“Go get it bestie”, you simply replied and grinned at yourself. You were already excited to hear about it afterwards when you next up with Astarion for a coffee or something.

You received one more text from Astarion asking you to text him when you got home safely. You agreed with a quick text and then went back to dancing.

All the booze you’ve had was giving you the confidence to keep going on the dancefloor even though the club was finally emptying bit by bit. The songs played were less popular now but therefore more enthralling and so you let yourself get dragged along by the music.

Until you opened your eyes and saw that you were being watched. And not by just anyone.

A bit off the dance floor Professor Dekarios was sitting on his own now in one of the leather seats there, his legs spread. He was holding another glass of red wine, carefully placed on one of the armrests. His other hand was at his chin – motionless though. You could see his single earring glint in the flickering club lights. His one side of hair was fanned out around his head.

He sat there like a statue – just very intently staring at you, giving you an immediate feeling of being stripped bare before him. He wasn’t even reacting to you catching him staring.

At least that was what you thought. But then you noticed the prominent bulge between his legs, straining against the fabric of his slacks.

Your lips parted in silent surprise and you immediately felt how your nipples hardened and rubbed against your dress in arousal. You gulped and wet your lips while your whole mouth suddenly felt overwhelmingly dry.

When you looked up again you saw just the slightest sparkle in the eyes of your observer.

And that – probably in combination with all the liquid courage you had consumed tonight - was enough to get you going again.

Knowing the audience, you then began to dance again – putting in even more effort than before: fluid motions, making your hips roll more prominently, dragging up the skirt of your dress just a little too much as you turned around to give him a view of your back.

You let your hands wander up your front when you turned around again, deliberately letting them linger on your breasts and squeezing them as you dragged your hands up and feeling them softly jiggle when you let them go again.

When you looked at your watcher you saw how he had leaned forward slightly in his seat now. Bulge now even more prominently outlined against his pants if that was even possible. His thumb wandering over the bottom lip of his open mouth as he watched you – just like he did when you asked an incredibly smart question in one of his courses.

You were feeling feverish and heedlessly aroused, probably dripping wet too. The thought of just sauntering over and sitting on his lap and pushing your boobs in his face crossed your mind as you turned around again to give him more opportunity to stare at your ass.

And when you turned around again…

The spell was broken. Someone had come over to Dekarios and engaged him in conversation. You saw how he had awkwardly placed his one arm over where his testament of arousal was probably still clearly obvious. He didn’t acknowledge you with a single glance anymore.

And you felt like someone had poured ice cold water over you. The heat of desire and lust quickly replaced with the heat of burning shame. You felt cheap suddenly and very self-conscious. At least the club was so empty now that mostly anyone else wouldn’t have noticed – or they’d been way too out of it to care.

You stormed off the dancefloor and out of the club, already regretting how you had it let come to this. Hoping you wouldn’t have just ruined everything you’ve worked so hard for.

Six months later…

Stuff had mostly went backwards and downhill from that party night on. Although Astarion had congratulated you and while he had wheezed and applauded you when you had told him about what had happened after he'd left. But you had barely been able to eat up your shame to resume attending Professor Dekarios’ lectures. Your keen sense of duty being the only thing that forced you back there after you had allowed yourself to miss a few classes because you wouldn’t have been able to handle it at all.

And when you had finally managed you had been smitten with completely being ignored by the man itself. He rarely acknowledged you anymore in his lectures, brushed over your questions and avoided you at every cost. That meant barely any eye contact, not even when he had to speak to you in public, no communication on your research project whatsoever and he mysteriously managed to never meet you walking around campus.

You had felt guilty and afraid at first – fearing that at some point you would just receive a formal letter that told you that you and your appointed studies were dropped without further notice.

But when that didn’t happen, you couldn't also help to feel at least a smidge of anger whenever you thought about it: obviously you had been trying to commit yourself to forget what had happened and start working on your research project. Why did he have to insist on making it awkward?

You wouldn't bring up the topic, certainly. You were prepared to just act like nothing ever happened at all – even if you would remember it every single time you looked at the man. Forever reminded of the shame of that moment; but also: the desire he had looked at you with and the lust you had felt for him.

But you'd be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit that you were mostly just majorly worried. Not only because of how he was behaving towards you in public but also because of how it impacted your project. Not once had you spoken about your planned research.

So you had started on it alone. Spent countless hours researching literature, trying to find the right focus for your project, marking off topics and theories. You had worked on your exposé for the last couple of months now – once you had gotten over the fear of just being dropped like a hot potato. And you had sent it in weeks ago and not received a single shred of feedback. Which meant that, despite being pretty sure that you did good work and put in the necessary thought, finesse and care to let it live up to Professor Dekarios’ standards, you were worried sick that you wouldn’t be able to go anywhere with it.

You really feared that what you had thought first after the party had become true: you fucked up your once in a lifetime chance at breakthrough research about the Weave. And on top of that you had ruined your relationship with someone you deeply admired.

But recently shame and guilt had mostly subsided to allow feelings of rising anger. You came back to the thought of how ridiculously he behaved: if you were an adult about it all you would have hoped he would be too. If he would even talk to you at all – you’d take being screamed over this horrible silent treatment any day.

And after sulking in your own misery for way too long, you found it was time to confront him finally. You probably wouldn't exactly be the bigger person about it - but at least you wouldn't be the one running away.

When the next date for his office hours came around, you threw on some of the nicest clothes you had. A low cut blouse and faux-leather pencil skirt you knew your ass looked amazing in - at least Astarion always whistled and affectionately slapped your butt anytime he saw you wearing it.

You knew you were absolutely pushing it but that was exactly what you wanted: forcing this godsdamned prodigy wizard to man up and either tell you off for good or just... settle the unfinished business. Either way would be fine for you by now, you just wanted to be out of this limbo state.

You made your way over campus to his office, in your head already riling yourself up to be appropriately angry when you confronted him. Stomping over the university grounds while you imagined countless scenarios and outcomes and already felt good about your decision to finally take action.

But your righteous fury hit some bumps quickly.

The first thing that took you aback was the small sticky note at his office door telling anyone to just come in and that he'd be back very soon.

This was almost enough already to take the wind out of your sails completely. You had hoped to throw open his door dramatically and scream at him to either give you proper feedback on your exposé or just stick it up his godsdamned wizard arse.

You swallowed and tried to retain your anger as you opened the door.

You had only been to his office a few times before you had taken up the PhD project.

It was beautiful, a dream for anyone who was in love with magic and books and studying: the walls were lined with dark bookshelves and loads of magical trinkets, just anything imaginable. Even though dark wood dominated the room it wasn’t gloomy but rather cozy and welcoming.

The eye was quickly drawn to the huge wooden desk centred at the back with a huge window behind it. Stacked on it were books and papers. Dekarios believed in being old school when it came to his studies and work, you knew as much.

You were in awe - and absolutely jealous.

"Hello visitor, Mr Dekarios has just gone out to get coffee", you heard a voice from somewhere behind the desk.

You were only shortly confused because the voice quickly turned out to be Tara, Professor Dekarios' tressym that lived with him, when the gentle beast jumped up on the desk. Only once before had you had the pleasure of speaking with her - she was truly a gentle and very sweet soul.

"He will be back sho-. Oh, it's you!", she said and interrupted herself. Her long fluffy tail started swish-swishing behind her while she sat down on the very middle of the desk. Her yellow cat eyes observed you cautiously – but not unfriendly.

Your brows furrowed. You couldn't believe though that the small creature would actually remember you from just speaking with you once.

But it seemed the tressym had read your mind on that because she angled her head as you came closer and then said: "Mr Dekarios speaks a lot about you, you know."

You would have given a good amount of gold to be able to read the expression on the cat's face better.

"He does?", you answered dumbfoundedly. "Because he hasn't really talked to me in actual months." The fluffy tail flicked forcefully around once when you said that but then Tara just kept looking at you.

"Of course, he does! He basically never shuts up about you. And I'm pretty sure he almost never stops thinking about you either, it's uh-"

The tressym's tail flicked around even more and she worked her front paws around, almost as if she was shuffling around awkwardly.

"A bit unnerving sometimes", Tara finished and cocked her head again, looking up at you curiously.

You felt yourself blush and desperately tried not to think too much about what the creature could have meant.

"Although, I have to say, I fear you kind of messed with his mind that night some months ago even though he wouldn't tell me exactly what had made him so... upset. And then of course he had his own bad experiences in the past when he was in your position. But Mr Dekarios tends to forget that he's quite a different person than his former... acquaintance."

You could barely believe your ears. Also you were probably absolutely tomato red from your neck up. You did not exactly know what had happened to the anger you had come here with, but it surely wasn't present anymore - at least for the time being.

The fact that you seemingly were a predominant thing on the mind of your professor was disarming to say the least. And also you had the feeling that the tressym had just let you in on some quite personal stuff about Professor Dekarios although you could not make sense of any of it.

When he had been in your position? Former acquaintance? What was that supposed to mean?

The subject matter chose this exact moment to enter the scene.

"Tara has anyone...", Professor Gale Dekarios said while he flung open his office door with a coffee in his other hand.

His mouth immediately snapped shut again when he spotted you as you had turned around at the sound of the opening door.

You stared at each other for a very long moment.

"I'll leave you two alone, excuse me", Tara said cheerfully, jumped off the desk and sauntered out of the room through the door that was still being held open by the wizard. You weren’t entirely sure but you thought you heard Tara hiss “be nice to her, I like her” in passing to her wizard before she slipped out the door.

Tara's departure helped you both out of your stupor. Dekarios closed the door behind himself and awkwardly kept standing around at the entrance of his office. Meanwhile you crossed your arms over your chest and felt at least some of the anger return at the sight of him.

"Tav", he said. His tone was defeated and you could see his shoulders visibly slump. It easily ignited the rest of your fury in you again.

"Professor Dekarios", you almost spat.

"Please. Just call me Gale."

And snap - the anger was gone again. It was ridiculous how easily this man could change your mood just like that.

Gale started to walk over to you as you noticed that he was wearing almost the same thing he had that night at the club. You couldn’t help but blush.

The wizard's brown eyes were filled with a wild mix of emotions you couldn’t quite interpret as he came closer. He ran his free hand through his hair in a nervous gesture, making his single earring swing around as he brushed against it accidentally.

You swallowed and lifted up your chin - not wanting to give in to him and his beaten puppy behaviour.

"I guess it was about time we talked, wasn't it?", Gale said when he was standing almost right in front of you.

He leaned around you to put down his coffee in a to-go cup on his desk.

You couldn't help but to catch his scent: soft cologne, the smell of books, the fresh coffee he had been carrying. Involuntarily your lips parted.

But you quickly bit down on them, you wouldn't lose composure now.

"You think?", you spat when some anger flared up again. You immediately regretted it. The last time you had your whimsical emotions take over had been the instance to get you in all the mess.

The anger was mirrored in Gale's eyes for a short few moments. Then he calmed down again quickly and just sighed defeatedly.

"You're angry with me", he simply said. His voice was deep and warm. He was now standing directly in front of you. His gaze directly on you. And you saw how his eyes flicked down and up again. Several times.

You felt that you lost the grip on your anger with the way he looked at you so sadly. So you decided to make a last ditch effort before you would probably just break down crying or running from his office – and all of this would have been for naught.

"Yes, I am angry with you", you almost yelled at him. And you forced yourself to be done with being taken aback by small details now.

Before you could think better of it you launched into the rant you had long prepared: "You took me in as you're PhD student, so you promised to help and supervise me with my research. I worked my ass off in the last months. I sent you my exposé which is - as you might know as a scholar yourself - quite critical to get started, or find scholarships for that matter. I did a lot of research already. I had countless sleepless nights. My caffeine intake has become more than unhealthy. And never ONCE did I receive an ounce of your help." You really made yourself more enraged now as you kept talking. Finally letting it all out felt incredibly freeing.

Gale's eyes mirrored what you were feeling. You were certain, he was probably just as upset as you, but you couldn't care less in this moment.

"And if all of this is caused by that one night at the club, the fucking faculty party, might I tell you: seriously, fuck you! I've seen exactly how you looked at me! I didn’t just make an arse of myself, you did too! And if you can’t handle that fact, either tell me to just go fuck off and I'll be gone or man up and stop avoiding me or..."

You let the last part hang up in the air.

Gale's eyes were ablaze by now. He stepped in closer to you. You had never seen him be this intense. Not even when he was talking about his most passionate areas of his work.

"Do you really think I act like this because it is fun for me?", he snapped at you, his tone had taken on an authoritative tone. A tone that usually only came out when he was putting someone in his place – the scholarly way.

He kept walking towards you, making you take steps back. "You might think it was easy for me the last couple of months. But I had to look at you, every godsdamned lecture when you wear stuff like this." He gesticulated at your outfit, licking his lips and letting his eyes drop to your dangerously deep neckline. "Making me remember how you danced for me that night. Making me think of what might have happened." You stumbled against the edge of his desk, unable to keep your distance from him now.

And he was still coming closer, until you almost lost your balance trying to keep some space between the two of you, almost falling onto the piece of furniture behind you. You could already feel the heat his body was giving off.

He still didn’t stop, until there was in fact not a mere inch between you and his body pressed against yours even though you tried to lean back on the table.

"I am only trying to protect you", Gale continued his tone now pleading, his eyes soft and full of worry – but not hiding what lay beneath that. He was so close you could see every little detail of him: the lines of the mysterious tattoo swirling over his neck and cheek, the scruff of his beard, his soft eyes and the strands of grey in his hair, the subtle wrinkles around his eyes or the worry lines on his forehead.

But this made you angry again. Who was he to tell you what you needed protection from? But then you shortly remembered Tara's words – a flash through your mind.

But you were set on your course now. The way your body reacted to the closeness of this man you’ve had so many fantasies about being the proof you hadn’t really needed anyway.

And before you could try and think better of it you exclaimed: “Or – instead of patronising me – you could do us both a favour and just fuck me, so we can both get the hells over with it!”

You were shocked by your own courage and rashness, but it was quite apparent that this man made you do things: once that night in the club, now – not to mention that he was a major part of why you chose to pursue a PhD in the first place.

Gale’s mouth dropped open in astonishment and surprise for a moment, a sound somewhere between gasp and moan left his lips.

Then he regained his senses, desire flashing in his eyes, and he flipped you over, bending you over the desk.

It was your turn to gasp and moan in surprise. You barely caught yourself with your arms, accidentally pushing off some papers and books in the process. Also knocking over the cup of coffee that just fell on the floor and spilled on the floor.

Gale immediately secured your position against his desk with his own body, pressing his hips against your backside you hoped looked just as delicious as you had planned now.

Your thoughts on that immediately disappeared though when you felt Gale’s erection press against your ass. He was already rock-hard, making you gasp more.

“Are you really sure this is what you want?”, he asked with a husky voice. You merely managed to nod and let out a breathy moan, enjoying how quickly had turned around again – this time in your absolute favour.

“Gods know I really want to see what that brain of yours can do but I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit that I have to say the same thing about your delectable butt you keep presenting to me”, Gale admitted in a haughty voice as he pressed himself harder against you, making the edge of the desk deliciously bite into your thighs.

You swallowed when what was happening started to settle in rationally – not just carnally. At the same time you could feel how helplessly needy you already felt, how lust pooled between your legs and flooded back again through your whole body. You had thought about this for so long but now being at his mercy felt better than anything your mind could have come up with.

Gale’s hands wandered over your ass in your skirt but the caress was still hesitant, although you could feel that the wizard was already breathing raggedly – the rise and fall of his body pressing you harder against the wood.

“Are you really sure you want to do this? Say it. Please!”, Gale whispered hoarsely, asking you again, although you could already feel how he had started to move one of his legs in between your thighs now and how his hands had wandered below the hem of your skirt and readied themselves to hike it up.

You pushed yourself up from the desk, turning around to him give him the most incredulous of looks: “I had six months to decide if I was sure about this, Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep. I was probably already sure of it when I saw you sitting in this nightclub flaunting a major erection and I made my boobs jiggle for you! I came here dressed like THIS.” You almost yelled at him. How did this idiot have you bent over his godsdamned desk and still hadn’t gotten the fucking memo?

“Well, no need to yell at me – I can hear you quite perfectly from here, thank you”, Gale replied and threw on his snappy professor voice that usually only those students got that annoyed him. He slapped your butt too and made you shut up really quickly before you could make a sassy remark.

Then he turned around slightly and you saw how he effortlessly used mage hand to turn the lock on the door. And with a quick incantation it began to glow also. You knew that spell and knew also that it wasn’t an easy feat to accomplish. Your mouth fell open.

When Gale turned back around again he took a deep breath and ran one of his hands through his hair, closing his eyes for a short moment and making the strands of brown with some grey fan around his face – all while still having you immobile between his body and his desk. Your mouth felt dry watching him do that – just casually locking you in his office with him; with one of the most powerful lock spells known to the wizarding world. And he didn’t even blink.

“There”, Gale simply said and rolled the tongue around in his mouth, letting it click once. “Point of no return now because the door is locked and sealed, is that what you wanted?”

You didn’t reply just stared at him hungrily, the lust inside basically becoming feral. You were still only turned half around, pushing up on the surface of the desk. You used the little space for movement you had and rubbed your ass against Gale’s crotch hoping that that would convey your answer to his question.

The wizard groaned and you watched his eyes roll back when he felt the friction against his erection.

“Do you even have an idea how many times I dreamt of this? Of this exact scenario?”, Gale pressed out as you felt the tingle of magic suddenly at your back and you noticed what must be another mage hand wander up your spine, softly caressing you, stroking up to the nape of your neck and curling itself in your hair.

Meanwhile Gale’s real hands were both free to hike up your skirt slowly, the feeling of his fingertips on your naked thighs making you shiver in anticipation.

“Do you know how many times I did?”, you gave back teasingly.

The mage hand in your hair yanked on it and the wizard’s hand came down on your butt again – a lot harder this time. You moaned helplessly as you felt jolts from the pleasureful pain run through your body and incinerating the fire inside you even more.

“This is not a competition!” There was the professor voice again. You tried to rub your butt against him again and earned another firm slap on your behind. Oh, you could keep going just like this for literal hours.

You heard Gale softly chuckle and then moan at your increasingly unhinged state. It seemed he was finally getting into this instead of worrying about you. And this is exactly what you wanted.

And then, to your surprise, you felt another instance of mage hand starting to wander over your body – dragging up one of your arms with which you had been supporting yourself so far and pressing it onto your back.

“In fact, do you know how many times you made me lock myself in my office after lectures because you always sit there, first row, wearing something that makes me stare at your breasts and then ask the most brilliant questions?”, Gale drawled, his voice dangerously low now. The one hand in your hair tugged on it again, making you lift up your head and look at the professor.

“I don’t know, did I?”, you answered and bit your lips and tried to turn around a little so you could force the aforementioned breasts into his field of view.

Your insolent behaviour earned you another slap and low growl from the wizard before he thrust his hips against you and made you fall prone on the desk surface now.

A third mage hand then started to work on your body, pushing you down until your chest was firmly held down on the desk. Then it grabbed your other arm until both of them were firmly held behind your back, meaning you were now absolutely immobilized and at the wizard’s mercy.

Your boobs were squished against the wooden surface, hurting in a way that was just the right amount to pleasure you. You whimpered in pleasure and closed your eyes trying to maximise your awareness of your body pressed against his.

You knew that you were dripping wet now. And you were desperate to let Gale find that one out.

“I believe, you need to be put into your place for all that, don’t you agree?”, Gale groaned as his hands finally dragged up your skirt over your buttcheeks and revealed your already completely soaked underwear.

“Uh, I mean unless… you’d rather…”, the wizard stuttered as he looked at your naked butt and how wet and ready you were for him, how his magic held you down – the mage hand at the back of your neck making you whimper now with how pleasantly hurtful it tugged on your hair. The sight of you below him had the usually eloquent professor quite at a loss for words.

You knew he was only trying to make sure you were fine but right then there you felt so desperate to just finally let your fantasies come true that you were almost ready to yell at him again to just get on with it.

“Please”, you simply whispered. And that was enough to break the wizard out of his paralysis. In a sudden change of position he knelt behind you, his hands spreading your butt for him as he pressed his open lips and tongue to your wet but still clothed core and began to suck.

You gasped in surprise and your head jolted upwards, straining against your magic shackles. But Gale’s mage hands were holding you firmly in place, resulting in you just squishing your breasts against the table harder and feeling how they and their hardened peaks were smushed against the hard surface, making you moan harder.

Gale kept giving your wet core and clit attention, finally pushing the soaked lacey piece of fabric that was in his way to the side and letting his tongue work on you – sinking it into you, then letting it circle around the sensitive bud down there.

The man was definitely as good with his tongue as you had hoped for – better even. Turns out the tongue wasn’t only good for spells, incantations or scolding naughty students (although that was probably his specialty).

He kept going, turning your whole being into a whimpering, shivering mess with how the tip of his tongue flicked over your clit and his hands squeezed your ass forcefully.

Desperate for his caress, you arched your back as hard as you could, desperate to get even more friction out of this. When you pushed your hips back even further when you were already close to an orgasm, Gale withdrew from you, leaving you to feel suddenly empty and cold.

You whimpered at the loss but didn’t trust your mind enough to form coherent sentences to make a sassy remark at him. You tried to turn around more to look at Gale and suddenly felt that the mage hands holding your arms behind your back had disappeared. In the same moment you heard how the wizard was undoing his slacks. Your eyes widened.

Now being allowed to do so you turned to watch as Gale let his erection spring free out of his pants. Your lips parted at the sight while Gale watched your reaction intently with a subtle hint of a smile on his face. You might be dripping wet for the wizard, but the wizard was hard as granite for you.

He stroked himself a few times and moaned while you kept staring at his hardness and felt the urge to feel him, all of him, become almost unbearable. Gale watched you, observed the carnal need in your eyes.

“You want me to-“ “Just fuck me already, Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep!“

This time the man needn’t to be told twice. He closed the distance between you. All his magic little helpers had disappeared. Now it was only him when he pressed his body against you again. His hard length fitting and pressing nicely between your buttcheeks.

He moved it down to let it slip along your wet core. The sensation of feeling his cock rub against you already almost making you insane. His hands grabbed hold of your hips as you pushed yourself up against the desk as you braced yourself for what was about to come.

Gale kept toying with you a little more before he entered you with a single movement – thrusting hard. You moaned loudly and let your head fall down. The first movement had already made the table shudder. You desperately tried to get accustomed to the feeling of finally being filled to the brim by this wizard.

“Gods, I want to fuck you until everything on this desk is knocked over”, Gale groaned and you could actually feel him twitch inside you as he promised you that.

“Better get to work then, Professor Dekarios”, you gave back with a breathy moan and squeezed your muscles around him. That earned you a deep growl and another hard thrust – oh.

“You enjoy it, when I call you that?”, you teased and squeezed around Gale’s cock again. Another growl, but not as feral as the one before.

“Fuck me then, Professor Dekarios, right on your desk”, you tried and almost regretted it when the wizard started to actually savagely pound into you – there were no pauses in between it anymore. He thrust into you slowly but forcefully, setting a steady rhythm. Every thrust taking you by surprise, unable to getting used to this sensation of being fucked by your professor.

You felt him hit pleasantly deep inside of you and thoughts in your head weren’t coherent anymore as you simply felt yourself give in completely to your lust and this man.

You felt the tingle of magic again right then and there, between your legs, starting to rub on your clit while the wizard kept thrusting into you - hard. So hard that he was about to keep his promise – books and papers fell over and then off with each of his movements that brought your bodies together. Until… out of the corner of your eye you saw a few papers making their way off the table. They looked awfully familiar.

“Wait, is that my exposé? And annotated? So, you did read it!”, you exclaimed with sudden reestablished coherent thinking. No matter the state of heedless need and pleasure you were in – you couldn’t let this go uncommented.

“Of course - I did - it was brilliant!”, Gale answered breathlessly in between his movements, not letting up on his thrusts. You squealed happily.

But then the mage hand between your legs, pleasuring your clit, suddenly pinched it, making you squeal again – but this time in pleasure and pain.

“We can talk about this later!”, Gale said with his scholarly voice again. And you were drawn back into how he was fucking you on his desk. Although you highly doubted you would be talking about anything soon.

He kept going while the mage hand at your sensitive core was almost driving you mad. The mixture of its teasing and the friction created by Gale thrusting into you had you almost at the edge.

But Gale groaned in frustration and dragged you up from the table. “This won’t do”, he commented, then turned you around and pushed you down again. “I need to see your face when I make you come for me”, he explained his reasoning.

So now you were laying on the wooden desk, your naked butt rubbing over the polished wood, supporting yourself on your elbows as Gale moved in and dragged your legs around his hips to enter you again. But before he did, he bowed down to tear open your already very revealing blouse. You gasped, as buttons jumped off it as you felt the burn of his violent tearing. Who would’ve thought the scholar was so ready to take what he wanted?

Thankfully you had been wearing nothing else underneath, so the wizard was immediately greeted with your naked breasts springing free from your top.

He stared at them dumbfoundedly while their peaks hardened in the sudden rush of cold air. You licked your lips and arched your back again to make them look as perky as possible.

When Gale kept staring in awe, you angled your head, cocked an eyebrow and let one hand wander across them – from one hardened bud to the other - and with that motion softly squeezing and dragging them.

“I kept thinking about these since you put them so exquisitely on display that night at the party”, Gale whispered. “So good to see them finally in the flesh”, he continued and licked his lips. His eyes flicked to yours – was he seeking approval for his stupid joke? This man could really swing between effortlessly and mind-blowingly sexy to absolute dork within in a single moment.

You wrapped your legs around his hips to get his dick back pressing against you. “Will you finally finish what you started? This is taking longer than waiting for you to get done grading a paper”, you scoffed and quickly moved up to give his hardness a single firm stroke.

That made the wizard’s head lull back and groan once more. Then he was immediately onto you again, entering you and bottoming out in a single movement. His hands moved to your hips again to give himself more resistance for his thrusts as he started moving again. And this time with an absolute urgency.

He stared at you, eyes flicking from yours to your jigging boobs then to where he could see himself sliding in and out of you. One of his hands wandered down between where your bodies were joined and this time his real fingers were working your clit.

And between his skilled fingers, his powerful thrusts and the way he stared at you as if he actually wanted to devour you, you felt the cliff coming. And you knew that for him it was coming into view as well as his movements became more and more ragged.

“Please”, you begged him simply – not being able to utter anything else.

Some more powerful thrusts and flicks of his thumb while you clenched around him pushed you off then, making you fall, see stars. It was as if you had entered the weave itself.

You moaned his name desperately as he made you come violently. You clawed and grabbed for his arms, desperate to hold onto him while you lost yourself.

You squeezed your legs around him as you arched your back impossibly far with the pleasure spikes ebbing and flowing through your body and your whole soul.

And Gale followed you within only a few more movements, groaning and tensing as you felt him twitch inside you and his hands clawed into the flesh of your hips. He moaned your name as well, as if it were a plea, while he came inside of you.

“Ah Gods above”, he moaned before he collapsed onto you after that.

The two of you were a tangled, sweaty mess. Breathing heavily, none of you trusted their skills to form complete sentences yet again after this.

With a groan you wrapped your arms around Gale’s upper body, touching his hair, moving a strand of it behind his ear before you leaned back. All tension had left your body for the time being and you desperately felt like you needed to lie down now somehow, actually lie down.

Out of all the scenarios you had come up with as possible outcomes to this, this was definitely the most satisfying one. And the fact that Gale had casually admitted that he thought your exposé brilliant was adding to the happy, fuzzy feeling you felt spreading through you now.

Gale’s eyes meanwhile had widened at your soft gesture and caress and he kept staring at you in wonder and admiration. Then he suddenly moved up and kissed you: with open lips, but gentle, almost too tender after what the two of you had just done. The scruff of his beard tickled a bit on your face and made you scrunch your nose a little.

When he withdrew slowly your expression mirrored his from just before.

“What was that for?”, you asked softly.

“I just realised I hadn’t kissed you through all of this and this was a fact I couldn’t quite live with”, the wizard answered. Ah well, he seemingly was already back to his blabbering eloquent self. This stupid idiot – you were down bad for him even worse now.

You suddenly felt a giggle rise up in you and your cheeks warm. So you grabbed the wizard’s face and kissed him again. Longer now, a bit more passionately – and in a way that already made you yearn to have him again.

“So, do you want to talk about your exposé now, or…?”

“Gale, can we discuss this later?”

The wizard gave you a huge smile when he heard you call him by only his first name again.

“Alright, let’s schedule another meeting for that then.”

#gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 gale #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #gale x tav #gale x reader #gale x you #professor gale #professor dekarios #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #fanfiction #baldur's gate iii #kinktober #fanfic #gale #poro fics

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lizardaggro · 6 months

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on the flip side (twst bully!au) part 4

sorry this didn't get out sooner; my sleep issues are really upset (might be daylight savings?) and i spent most of the past few days feeling like a zombie. i'm better now though! it's also a bit shorter than i'd like, but i didn't want to leave you guys hanging. also two fics? in one day?? crazy!

part 1 part 2 part 3 genre: gn reader, angst trigger warnings: bullying, yandere has officially escalated word count: 897

“Child of man,” Malleus said. Even his voice felt suffocating. “Lilia has informed me that some… pests have been bothering you as of late.” He must mean the others. Did he really not know? Well, you supposed it wasn’t too farfetched, since he didn’t have any friends and everyone was afraid of him, especially after his Overblot. “You need only have let me know and I would have… taken care of them. But worry not. You’ll be safe here, where no one would dare to harm you.”

Oh no. Oh no no no. It was finally happening. Malleus had lost his mind. It felt a little nice, you’d admit, knowing that at least one person still cared for you. But that didn’t mean you could accept being trapped here for who knows how long. You still had to take care of Grim and attend classes. Not to mention you hated feeling trapped.

You knew you couldn’t count on anyone to save you. Lilia was the only one who might be able to make him see reason, but he seemed to be fully complicit in the matter. The dorm leaders might be somewhat capable if they worked together, but they’d have no motive for that, other than to torment you further.

Getting angry and yelling wouldn’t solve anything here. You had to be smart about it. “Tsunotarou, I can’t stay here. You know that,” you reasoned. “I have responsibilities to take care of. Besides, wouldn’t you grow tired of me? Everyone else did, after all.” You surprised yourself with how true your sentiments were. Maybe you harbored more negative feelings about all of this than you’d realized.

Naturally you were pissed that everyone turned on you, but you’d never really stopped to think about how lonely you’d been. Even your professors would hardly give you the time of day. You didn’t even know what you possibly could’ve done to set them off. Grim and the ghosts were the only ones whose attitudes never changed; but it wasn’t the same.

Malleus was pouting; there was simply no other way to describe the look on his face. “Surely you don’t mean that; not after everything they’ve done,” he quipped. Was he serious? In what way did he think you’d enjoy being trapped inside one tiny room for who knows how long?

“Yes. I do. And I don’t appreciate you taking away my freedom like this. If you really cared about me, you’d respect my wishes.” You hoped appealing to his emotions would work, no, you needed it to work. If it didn’t, you weren’t sure how long your sanity would last.

“I do care about you, Child of Man,” he objected. “Can’t you see that’s why I’m doing this? It isn’t safe out there. You’ll get hurt by those vile beings you once called friends.” He spat out that last word, like they were undeserving of the title. You didn’t know how to feel about that.

There was one thing you did know, however: this man was delusional. He’d gone paranoid with worries for your safety, even though he knew nothing just hours ago and was fine. He’d always been a little possessive, you’d noticed, but you’d brushed it off as him being afraid of losing his one and only friend. Now this? This was a whole new level.

Ah, but then you remembered. Malleus knew about most of the bullying, but not all of it. You doubted Lilia would’ve tattled on his own dorm members. You smiled, catching him off guard. “But am I any safer in here? I bet you don’t know, after all. You don’t know how Sebek would beat me in the halls, how Silver watches me everywhere I go. It’s creepy; I don’t like it. And I’m sure Lilia didn’t tell you how he tries to poison me with his cooking,” you listed calmly, as if you were having an ordinary conversation.

“They WHAT?!” Malleus shouted. “LILIA! SILVER! SEBEK! GET OVER HERE THIS INSTANT!” You flinched; he was usually so calm, you didn’t expect him to suddenly yell like that. It was good that he believed you, not that you were lying. You didn’t have a backup plan.

As the unfortunate trio entered the room, you made your way over to the door. You thought you’d managed to slip out unnoticed, but Lilia shot you a wink. Did that mean he’d keep his mouth shut about your escape? You could only hope.

You ran through the halls, Malleus’s shouting covering up the sounds of your footfalls. You knew this place like the back of your hand, so you weren’t at risk of getting lost. The only question was how long the lecture would last. If you were lucky, Lilia would buy you some time, but you wouldn’t count on it.

And then, at last, you were safe, on the other side of the portal. You were totally winded, after having had the run of your life. Everything seemed great, but then you heard a voice.

“Oya? What do we have here? What were you doing in Diasomnia, prefect?” Jade asked with a definitely fake smile like he didn’t know exactly what you were doing in Diasomnia. Oh, great. Azul was with him too. How… lovely. Staying with Malleus was starting to sound like it wasn’t so bad after all. No, nevermind. It was definitely worse.

taglist (CLOSED): @twistedcece @slxt4h1m @teawhere @pleasehugmeaether @reivelmin @aoiyx @trashlanternfish360 @probablynoposts @d3sperate-enuf @mono273 @help-whatdoimakemyusername @justuraverageeverydaydegenerate @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst bully!au #twst bully au #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #sebek zigvolt #diasomnia #twisted wonderland silver #lilia vanrouge #azul ashengrotto #jade leech

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cuubism · 2 years

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Dream makes Hob Prince Consort in the Dreaming, but does not tell Hob because why would he ever communicate anything. It's just ceremonial anyway. Right? Right.

Anyway Hob lives in blissful ignorance for several years. Sure all the Dreaming denizens are super nice to him but that's just how dreams are, right? It's cool. Nothing weird here.

Then Dream goes missing. Hob's freaking the fuck out -- the last time Dream went missing was fucking Not Good after all -- and as if that wasn't bad enough, Lucienne comes up to him and is like, so... Lord Morpheus left you in charge of the Dreaming in his absence.

Hob: this better be a fucking joke

Lucienne: no, you're prince consort so according to the royal scriptures of the Dreaming you're in charge.

Hob: hang on I'm WHAT so I'm WHAT

Hob: was Dream AWARE of this when he made me consort

Lucienne: *derisive look*

Hob: but I'm just a GUY I can't run a dream realm *shakes fist at absent Dream* my beloved asshole you can't just drop this shit on me oh my GOD

Lucienne: well someone's gotta do it. To be honest I'm still tired from last time.

Hob: well. Uh. *shrugs* guess I'm running the Dreaming now?

----

A year later Dream returns. Hob's been looking for him the whole time but it was kind of fucking difficult when he also had to run a whole REALM.

Turns out Dream was fine he just went on like, a jaunt to another galaxy for dream inspiration and forgot about time dilation in space travel. No big deal. Anyway.

Dream gets back and he's like oops hope Hob hasn't struggled too much, that was only supposed to be three days... lol...

So turns out Hob is not very good at being a King in the way Dream is but he IS very good at just bringing major Dad Energy to all the little dreams and nightmares, just being like the Cool University Professor of the entire Dreaming. So Dream gets back and Hob has managed to befriend EVERYONE in the Dreaming. He's hosting "family dinner" at the palace? He's doing Forums where people can bring their complaints? He instituted set work hours to create work life balance?

Dream is like What In The Democracy Is This. What have you done to my realm.

Hob's like We're Vibing! :) Come on we're having a blast!

And drags Dream to a fucking party going on at the palace? There are drinks? They're doing karaoke? Is Dream having a stroke?

It's all so foreign that he almost calls down a tornado and just obliterates the palace. But Hob pulls him close and makes him dance to the music, and leans in and says, "You know it doesn't have to be all fire and brimstone and seriousness all the time. It's okay to show them you love them."

And Dream is like "I DO love them they're my creations."

And Hob is like, "I know but it's also okay for them to SEE it."

Dream looks around at the ridiculous party. True to Hob's words, the dreams and nightmares look more relaxed and happier than they've been in a while-- at least, when Dream's been around. He wonders what else he doesn't get to see. What they're afraid to show him.

He says, "I went to the Andromeda galaxy for new dream inspiration, but perhaps I should have been looking in you, Hob Gadling."

Hob's like "aw that's sweet-- hang on you went to the WHERE???"

Dream just chuckles and doesn't elaborate, and Hob gives up and pulls him close again, holds him and dances them to the beat of the swing music one of the Music Dreams has just put on. Dream says, "I see that while your leadership skills are... unconventional... I made the right choice in leaving you in charge of the Dreaming."

"Yeah, about that, next time you're gonna spontaneously make me Prime Minister of some place can you let me know in ADVANCE??"

"Well, you wanted fun. Where would the fun be in that?"

#the sandman #dreamling #more shitposting and dumb headcanons!

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junniieesbby · 2 months

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༯ Teacher’s Pet |Choi Yeonjun ༯

Pairing: Professor Yeonjun x F!Student reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, forbidden romance, 10 year Age cap (reader is 22+ when they met).

WC: 2k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Summary: Having dirty thoughts about one of your professors you couldn’t control yourself but to make them come true. Only for you to end up heartbroken after.

Warning: STRAIGHT FILTH. Lots of degradation. Reader is a brat. Use of pet names such as sir, Baby, teacher’s pet, Slut, Whore. Age Gap. Ass smacking, hair pulling. Spit.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Nothing mentioned in this fiction represents any of the characters.

Song: Teacher’s Pet By: Melanie Martinez

A/N: I’m all for happy endings but um this one is not ending in one I fear not. Maybe if you guys want a part two but it won’t be anytime soon because your girl is heartbroken. A big shout out to my favorite people @boba-beom @lovejoshua @gyupremacy @honajoong @flwrseon for helping me with the header and me asking you guys a bunch of questions to see what fits most! And a special shout out for @boba-beom for giving me the glasses idea hehe. ILY guys💕I also would like to say if you want to see more scenarios that include age gap professor Yeonjun please send me an ask.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Your Favorite part about your English Literature course was the eye candy of a professor you had. He was a young professor and all the girls wanted to fuck him while all the boys wanted to be him. You couldn’t help but bite your lip at him every time you walked in the class, making sure you came early so you could get a seat in front of him. Everytime you walked in, his eyes would linger on you. You spent the time in his class daydreaming about all the different ways he would fuck you.

One morning you woke up bold and decided today would be the day. You did your hair and makeup. And you wore one of the shortest skirts you had. And went to class like usual early. As you walk in you swear you stopped breathing for a moment. He looked so fuckable in his outfit and those glasses of his. You felt yourself get wet just imagining riding him while taking those glasses off and wearing them to be a brat.

After class ended you waited until everyone was out so you could approach him. He was sitting slightly on his desk with his arms crossed “Is there a reason you stayed behind Miss Y/L/N?” He asked, looking you up and down. You walked up to him standing so close to him. You lifted one of your hands and placed it on his bulge. “Is it wrong that I’ve needed you to fuck me since the moment I saw you” you whisper to him. He takes his hand and lifts your chin up to look at him both your faces mere inches from each other. He sighs and moves away going to sit in his chair murmuring a “you’re young”. You didn’t care about the age, looking at him and saying “I know I'm young, but my mind is well beyond my years”. He shook his head and said “why do you need me to fuck you? You are my top student in all the classes I teach” he readjust his glasses. “don't care 'bout grades, just call me your Baby.” You slowly walk and stand in front of him.

“Fuck it” He whispers getting up walking to the door locking it. He marches towards you “tell me to not touch you and let you go and I will unlock that door and let you go, but if you don’t I will be fucking you so hard you won’t be able to move for days… so what is it going to be baby?” He got so close to you, your noses were touching. You knew this would be wrong but didn’t care you needed to feel him deep inside of you. “Fuck me Sir” Three words. It took three words for him to crash his lips down to yours while beginning to undo his pants and pulling his cock out.

“Did you decide to dress like a filthy slut for me? Did you want my cock that bad?” He reached inside your short skirt and started to rub circles on your clothed core. You couldn't believe he was finally touching you in ways you'd been dreaming about. “Be the good little teacher’s pet that you are and answer me when I am asking you questions.” He pinches your clit to get your attention. “Yes, Yes I dressed like a filthy slut for you. I need your cock sir been dying to have it inside of me” You moan when he moves the fabric aside and starts to slide his tip up and down coating his tip and your juices.

“Does my pretty girl need any prepping? Or should I just fuck her like shes been asking me to hmm?” His teasing was driving you crazy. “Fuck me please just fuck me” you try to move closer to him. He pummels inside of you without a warning, his thrusts going deep. Deeper than you’ve ever felt before. He started to move faster and harder with each thrust and you couldn’t help but clench and squeeze around him.

“Shit, pretty girl you keep doing that and I might just breed this sweet pussy…oh you like that? My little slut wants me to breed her doesn’t she?” The more he spoke the more you clenched around him. Yeonjun knew what he was doing. He was much older than you and you had little to no experience. The guys you had been with didn’t make you feel an ounce of how he was making you feel.

“Yes, yes right there sir oh fuck” You felt yourself getting closer and closer. Looking at his beautiful face you couldn’t help yourself but to slide his glasses off and wear them while holding onto his biceps for support. “You look so damn sexy in my glasses I will let it slide this time but act like a little brat again and I’ll show you what brats like you get” He starts to kiss your jaw and sucking your neck making sure to leave a few marks.

As you were about to come he pulled out and flipped you over taking one of your legs and putting it on his desk. He thrusted in you from behind and the new angle made your eyes roll in the back of your head. He pulled your hair bringing your head closer to him, hips not faltering one bit. He put his hand around your jaw and brought you even closer. “Open your mouth baby” and you do exactly what he says. He does something you least expect and it turns you on even more. He spits in your mouth then closes your mouth telling you to “swallow like a good girl” while bringing that same hand he had on your jaw down smacking your ass.

“Please, please I need to come let me come please” You beg him not able to resist your release any longer. “Just a few more seconds my love I’m right there with you” His tone changed and he softened down but his thrusts were sending you so close to the edge. After a few more seconds His thrust became slower and slopier. “Come for me baby, let go for me you’ve been such a good girl” as soon as he said that you came like you’ve never done before. Your legs were shaking, your mind was fuzzy, there was drool coming down your chin. He filled you up, and the feeling of his cum inside you lit a spark. You weren’t sure if this was one of your day dreams or a reality.

He pulled out and took your panties with him while bringing your skirt down. His cum was seeping out of you and he gathered it with his fingers pushing it back inside of you while he made you lick the rest of his fingers. “Can I have my panties back?” You ask him finally after you have recollected yourself. “No they are mine now and plus I want you walking while you feel my cum inside your sweet cunt.” He had a way with words that just made you melt.

You stood back on your feet going to grab your book bag and started walking to the door. “See you next week Mr.Choi” you say smiling. “Wait” you halt and turn around. “I need my glasses back” He says pointing to your face. “No they’re mine now and plus I want you to fuck me like your brat next time so I will be keeping them for now.” You say back turning around and walking around catching his little chuckle while saying “such a brat.” You get home and look at yourself in the mirror not believing the girl staring back at you. You looked like you had your soul fucked out of you. That night you went to bed in a really good mood.

*Time Skip*

Fucking Yeonjun became part of your routine. Some days you would go on your knees for him as he graded papers. Other days you cock warmed him which led to you acting out and getting put in your place. You two enjoyed each other’s company and the sex was euphoric.

You knew what you were doing was wrong, but he made you feel special and took care of your needs like no one could. Walking into class you shoot him a smile, but unlike how he would smile back at you the past month and a half he just nodded. You found it odd but didn’t pay much attention to it as you took your seat.

Even though you were the first to finish your quiz you decided to wait until the last person to turn their quiz in for you to finally get up. As per usual you hand him your paper and you go lock the door. Walking back to him saying “If I pass this quiz, will you give me your babies?” He chuckles sarcastically “You’re crazy” he said. Hurt by his words and unusual demeanor you looked him straight in the eyes and said “Don’t call me crazy” You go and stand in front of him. “What’s going on? We were just fine last week. Why are you being like this?” He sighs and turns his head. “You’re special, and you need someone just as special as you. You need someone your own age and better than me” Your tears pulled in your eyes at his words. “When Did I ask for any of that? Do you think I don’t know about our age gap? Was I not good enough? Do you regret the things we shared that I’ll never forget. Why are you not saying anything?” You grab his jaw and turn his face to look at you.

“I don’t regret a single moment with you Y/N, but you know this thing between us is wrong, we have to put an end to it now.” Tears were streaming down your face now and Yeonjun couldn’t watch you in pain especially knowing he was the cause behind it. He gets up and walks out the door and your last words to him brought him to tears. Watching him walk out you couldn’t take it anymore shouting “I knew this wouldn’t last, Fuck you don’t you leave me here.” As the door shuts behind your professor you slide down hugging yourself and just crying at the pain this has caused you.

There was no one to blame but yourself you thought.

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

Taglist for this fic: @miupow @dearlyjun @junsmintchoco @seolis-world @hyhkai @txt-yaomi @my313 @mingyuslice @amoryeonjun @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @smutnoullitheorem @yuriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii @junnmizz @standbytubatu @choijxn

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#mdni #Yeonjun smut #yeonjun #Yeonjun angst #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun hard thoughts #yeonjun hard hours #txt smut #txt angst #txt x reader

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hotchfiles · 3 months

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ synchronized with you ❞ ─ a darling, in any life blurb

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader. summary: the red thread between two people destined to be together may stretch and tangle, but those ties will never break. or: car sex is for the young and the reckless. you both are none of those. content warnings: making out, foul language, suggestions of sex, MDNI, this is a 18+ blurb. actually no one interact nor talk to me for several hours i don't know what i'm doing. word count: 500

your efforts of saying his name were easily muffled by your own panting, aaron’s hands gripping hard on your ass, enough to leave a mark, you were sure. his lips went on with the same roughness on your neck and on your shoulder, leaving love bites you would’ve to conceal with makeup the next day like a teen.

your hips unintentionally pressed your body down to his, needing the friction of his rough jeans on your thin panties. the movement doesn’t go unnoticed by him and one of his hands quickly go from gripping on your flesh to pulling your dress up, out of the way, hanging just at the end of your back. his thumb immediately touch your pulsing cunt over the soaked spot on your underwear.

you can’t help but moan into his ear, not loud enough to anyone outside the car hear, but enough to get him harder under you. his mind drifts from a moment in a flashback, the wet dreams he used to have as a hormonal adolescent come to him, the times he jerked himself off thinking about your lips glued to his, he smirked to himself, arousal flooding him in the knowledge that he would finally have you.

or so he thought, your hands leaving his hair to push him back to the seat, flat to his chest making him groan loudly in disappointment. “d’you really think i’m about to let you fuck me in a car?” aaron’s pleading eyes say one thing only, yes, he thinks so, he hopes so. “first of all, indecent exposure is illegal in the state of virginia.” you’re being purposefully cruel, appealing to the law abiding side of him while simultaneously maintaining pressure on his crotch. but it was true, a law professor and a supervisory special agent from the fbi being caught and being put on a sex offender list was not the ideal love story path. “second of all, i want some romance, you old man.” he rolls his eyes with a huff, simply because once more, you were right, it wouldn’t be right to have the first time you slept together be like some quicky a broke college couple would have during finals week.

“get the fuck off of me then, woman.” aaron replies finally, chuckling and pushing you off of his lap and into the passenger seat. “let’s go back to my apartment. should i get you some flowers on the way, your majesty?” he asks, uncomfortably pulling up the material of jeans from his thighs, readjusting himself as he mentally tried to get rid of your hard work.

you deny the need of the flowers, knowing he was teasing you, but he gets them anyway, and candles, and a nice wine, and he makes sure to prep his bedroom in the most romantic way he could in 20 minutes, just before pulling you to him and pushing you down his bed, more than ready to make you his as well.

#lari writes sometimes #dont look at me #aaron x reader #aaron x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner scenario #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch smut #hotch x y/n #hotch imagine

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theminecraftbee · 1 year

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"You know," Jimmy says, irritated, as Grian hangs upside down in front of him, sticking out his tongue. "You know. For someone somewhere he's not supposed to be, you seem pretty uninterested in actually going home. If I didn't know better, I'd say you all want to stay here and cause problems."

Grian pauses, looks at Jimmy, and blinks slowly.

(Pop quiz. You are Grian. How do you answer this question?

A. "I'm enjoying hanging out with you, you know." B. "Last time the world ended, I put finishing touches on my base and tried not to think about the fact that I was pretty sure Scar's plan was to kill us, and I'm still not certain I lived after that, either." C. "There's a painting of Pearl in a tomb, and Ren crawled out from beneath it. I'm not so sure we ever weren't here." D. "Maybe I want to see you when I don't have to kill you." E. "What do you know about fixing rifts, anyway?" F. "Do you really think you get to escape me, Tim?" G. "I'm scared too." H. None of the above.)

"Aw, are you trying to get rid of me?" Grian laughs. "Too bad, Tim. You can't escape me if you try."

"Ugh," Jimmy says. "Figures."

"You're stuck with me for now. Believe me, Tim. I'm not going to just not look into it. I'm just... taking my time, is all."

"Well, take your time faster." There's a long pause. "Unless you're going to take Scar, I guess. He hasn't been half bad, really."

Grian makes an offended sound.

(Pop quiz. You are Grian. Is the answer given above true or false?)

"Well now I'm going to try to figure out how to re-light the rift even faster," he says. "You've gone and ruined it, Tim. Look at what you've done."

"What? No! I mean, yes! I mean, agh! Why are you so confusing?"

"I think I'm perfectly simple," Grian says primly.

"One day professors will teach a course about you, and it will be all the students' least favorite class," Jimmy says dryly.

"Ouch. That was almost a good burn," Grian says.

"I hate you," Jimmy says.

"I always feel bad for unrequited emotions," Grian says.

"I'm going to force you to play Monopoly later," Jimmy says.

"What? No, you can't do that here," Grian says, alarmed. "Jimmy, you can't do that here. Jimmy."

Jimmy huffs. "That's what you get for bringing everyone through that Rift thingy of yours. Don't think I haven't heard the others talking, either. That whole thing was your fault, wasn't it?"

(Pop quiz. You are Grian. Do you regret it? If so, why do you regret something that let you see all of your friends in one place for the first time in a long time? If not, why don't you regret the fact that you've put them all in irreversible danger? Please answer as completely as possible.)

Grian sighs. "Yeah," he says, and it's almost fond. "I suppose that's what I get."

"Now, get down from there and give me my hat back."

"Why on earth would I do that Tim? I'm so comfortable up here!"

"Agh -"

#empires smp #hermitcraft #a bee fic #grian #jimmy solidarity #this idea is like... unfinished #but in my defense it's almost three am and this is my cooldown after having to be awake for work #i am vaguely inspired by the joke about post comprehension questions that is going around #so here i am. with grian comprehension questions #don't worry - there are no wrong answers when he doesn't know the answer either!#(let me have my 'making this way WAY more dramatic than it is in canon' a little okay)

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leeofthevoid · 2 months

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Cold-Blooded Beings- Part 1

Farleigh Start x Reader

a/n: Hey guys this is a multi-chapter thing, a little series I suppose and I'm excited to map it out. Hello! Had a few comments that wanted it changed to Y/N and I got you! Please let me know if I missed a few but I tend to not use the assigned name I did before. Just tell me if you guys also want some name specific Fic for you so I can make one shots! Big thanks to the people who pointed good stuff out!

Warnings: Mentions of Alcohol, Strong language

Word Count: 1777

|| Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

Money Makes The World Go Wild

Oxford was a dream come true. It was so difficult to actually get into the school without the help of your family’s wealth and earn your place, it was rewarding to finally get into it.

It wasn’t until dinner time when you felt big arms wrap itself around your shoulders while you ate. “Look who we have here. N/N L/N.” What the hell? This voice was unrecognizable. What does this guy want with you? “I’m sorry um…Did I do something wrong?” The man looked confused and chuckled. “Y/N , it’s me Felix? Felix Catton? Cry Baby Fee?”

You jolted back in surprise and your face turned from a slight scowl to surprise. You didn’t hesitate to jump and wrap your arms around him. “Fee! Holy shit you’re so big now! I barely recognized you!” You both laugh heartily as you pour out your happiness in the embrace. “How I miss you, I miss you so.” You pulled back to pepper his face with kisses and finally sat back down on your seat, huge smiles still plastered on your faces. “You’re so big now Fee! I can’t believe you’re the same little boy I had to carry when you scraped your knees.” Felix cringed slightly at the story but still smiled his heart out. “Well yeah, I’m not the little boy Catton you used to know. It’s so nice to see you N/N. Venetia would be so happy know you go here.” You pause and look around the dining hall looking around for the other Catton sibling. “Speaking of, where is she?” Felix leaned on the table and sighed, “Went to Cambridge in fear that I would ‘ruin’ her university experience.” It was so like Venetia to say that and you admired how they seemed to barely change.

You ended up talking through dinner time about how you got into Oxford the way your family always went in. Felix teasing you about your strict family. How you both grew through the years and realized how you missed each other’s presence ever since your father threw you to Switzerland to attend boarding school after your last summer in Saltburn. You both exchanged numbers and a promise to Felix that you will for sure hangout with him and his friends. With a goodbye embrace that was too long for other people, you parted ways.

It was hard being a Teacher’s assistant. When you settled after a few months into your summer term, your professor offered for you to help him tutor his students which you gladly agreed to for extra credit. You were now stuck in the room with Mr. Ware, this shy scholar kid named Oliver Quick, and another empty seat that the other student seemed to miss every session. It’s their fifth absence now. Oliver was in the middle of reading his essay out loud when you decided to take a quick bathroom break, waking up your professor in the process to at least pay attention to the poor guy. After a few minutes out, you’re met with a new person chatting with the tutor and Oliver sits back quietly. You got a better view of the new presence and saw a nice head of curly hair, fashionable clothes, and…No way. “Farleigh?”

Oliver and Farleigh look up at you from the door and his eyes widen. “ Oh my god N/N!” He stood up and scooped you in a tight hug. Man, these Cattons sure love their hugs. “I thought Felix was fooling us when he mentioned a special childhood friend in Oxford.” He gently puts you down and backs away to sit next to Oliver again.

“My, my. A L/N and a Catton? Oliver, you have quite the company.” Your Professor stated. You saw Oliver slowly back up in his chair more, feeling a tinge of pity for the guy. “Let’s start over, Sir. I believe we all have limited time.” You chime in. You all sat down and proceeded to listen to the essays Oliver was abruptly cut off. His work was too robotic and a little…Boring? You can’t help but try to wake the other two people up from time to time to at least alleviate the embarrassment Oliver had. When Oliver finally finished, you cleared your throat, signaling for Farleigh and Mr. Ware to at least look alive. Mr. Ware shared his thoughts and you did too, “I believe there was a lack of something in it, Oliver. I’m sure you’ll be able to revise it better so don’t worry too much.” Farleigh snorted at your kindness and blatantly told him the truth. It was a tensioned back and forth that you’d much rather not be apart of but what can you do? Farleigh was right but so was Oliver, you looked at Mr. Ware and he simply shook his head. “So! We had quite the session today, lads. Oliver, please take note of the changes Ms. L/N will send you, and Farleigh please write your essay too. Um…Send anonymous regards to your mum too please?” Farleigh winks at him and gives you a kiss on the cheek before he leaves the room. Oliver soon made a beeline out of the room and you followed after getting a few tasks from Mr. Ware.

After a few days, you came across Oliver walking alone through the courtyard. “Hey, Oliver!” He quickly looked around for the source and saw you waving at him. “Oliver! Fancy meeting you around and not in the office.” You smiled at him as you put out your hands out to shake. He took it and gave you a shy smile, “Ollie is alright. Y/N right?” You nodded. “So sorry about Farleigh, he always had a sharp tongue ever since we were kids, can I buy you a few drinks to apologize?”

“No, no, c’mon now Y/N it’s not your fault. Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want to. I don’t need a reason to treat a friend out?” You smiled at him as he fiddled with his jacket deep in thought. “I suppose you it wouldn’t be bad…” You smiled again “See you later at the pub then. You know where right? Bring your friends Ollie!” Oliver hurriedly walked away with a small bounce of excitement as you slowly backed away bumping into something…Or someone. “Running a charity case, love?” Farleigh chuckled. You look up at him and roll your eyes with a slight smile. “Don’t be mean Far, I just thought he was a decent person to befriend.”

“And where is Farleigh’s invite then?” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you both walked. “Since when did you grow so mean? I remember you jumping up and down whenever I complimented you more than Felix.” Farleigh groaned at the memory as you laughed. “You know, being the oldest out of all of us had its perks, such as carrying both you and Fee when you were both so tiny! I felt so big next to you! Now look at you towering over me.”

“N/N, you sound like an old lady reminiscing about her children’s lives, I don’t miss that at all. If you’re coming to the pub with that bore of a person, come by at our table yeah? I’d hate for you to be lonely.” You chuckled as he kissed your cheek to walk off into who knows what.

The pub had a really good atmosphere for a place swarmed with people in their early twenties dying to have some semblance of relief from school. You would even argue that The King of Arms was a decent place to have a date, even dressed nicely to appease the people you’ll hangout with. One problem is that you never anticipated the fact that Oliver could probably have no friends. Well, he had one, Michael, but the thing about Michael is he seemed to be so absorbed in his genius that he never did care to let you or Oliver talk. As much as you appreciate the boys not ogling at you with the usual stares you get from wearing provocative clothing, it was kind of pathetic that they didn’t at least compliment you perhaps?

You excused yourself to get another round of drinks, on you of course. It kind of put you in a bit of a damper mood when Michael didn’t even acknowledge it, at least Oliver did but it still sucked. You approached the Barkeeper to bring you three pints of Pale Ale which he kindly nodded to. “What’s a pretty lady like you doing with losers like them?” You chuckled and looked up at the figure slowly sliding their hand on your waist. “Farleigh.” You lightly warned with a smile, “Cut them some slack. It’s probably their first time going out with people. I was like that when I started my summer term.” Farleigh simply rolled his eyes at your kindness thinking it was stupid. You notice how he seemed to still tower over you and that was something since you weren’t exactly short, five foot ten to be exact. You even had heels on for goodness sake! When did this small tiny boy grow so tall?

You snap out of your trance when the door dings. You turned and saw Michael’s retreating figure, turned and checked the table you were occupying and found no signs of Oliver. Great, you just got ditched. “So…About my offer?” Farleigh’s tone was teasing and you can’t help but give in. With a sigh and a defeated huff you give in. “Fine Far, you win. What about the stuff I ordered?”

He scoffs, “Thank you for buying me some, you’re a doll.” Farleigh says in a sarcastic manner, picks up the tray and brings it to the table while dragging you with him. You notice Oliver’s shy figure sitting beside Felix as Farleigh pulls a chair out for you. Paying no mind to the boy who just walked out of your table, you greeted everyone with a cheery expression even earning some wolf whistles from the guys sitting with you. “Y/N will apparently buy two rounds of drinks for us.” Farleigh teases. Everyone cheered making you roll your eyes at him. At least you get to use that allowance your dad finally said you earned.

After some time on the table, it still pissed you off that Oliver ditched you, he even avoided eye contact with you while talking to Felix. It’s alright, everything will be okay and you should just let this instance slide, you say to yourself. It was just an apology drink from Farleigh’s mean outburst and the subject of the event was right next to you making out with a girl on his other side. Don’t you just love university?

#farleigh x reader #farleigh start #saltburn movie #saltburn fics #saltburn #felix catton #oliver quick #michael gavey #farleigh x you

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rafescurtainbangz · 3 months

Text

Professor Cameron #2 - Rafe Cameron One Shot + 18

Minor DNI

Part 1: Link

Rafe × female reader (No use of Y/N)

Warnings: smut, language, swearing, drinking and smoking

Fingering, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), unprotected p in v, pet names, squirting, overstimulation, praise kink, ownership kink, older Rafe, possessive rafe, jealous rafe, obsessed rafe, choking, spanking, degradation, name-calling, pussy slapping, mating press, reader calls rafe daddy

Lightly edited

4.1K

Don't let the beginning fool it’s a lot of smut lmao 😂 thank you for all the love on part 1! 💕💕💕

Taglist @imyourdaninow @gri959 @redhead1180 @romaescapes

Enjoy! ❤️✨

Tanneyhill...

Later that night

"Holy shit," you whisper, eyes following Rafe's house all the way to the top. The grandeur of it all begs the question, does a professor really live here? I mean, I'm sure the university pays him well, but not this well. This is old money.

Tracking the brick walk, you make your way to the front door, smoothing out a very different ensemble than you wore this afternoon. You breathe a sigh of relief, thankful at this moment that you decided to dress up. Your pink satin mini-dress blows lightly with the cool night breeze, an open back cinched tight, showing off your curves.

Truthfully, I didn't think that would happen. Just teasing between friends until that fictional tale came true. I never thought he would actually cross the line.

Rafe was right... The boys at school weren't cutting it. They were selfish, inexperienced, and immature. That was only an hour? What could Rafe do with a whole night? On a bed instead of a desk? He said he had a 'real big house,' which is the understatement of the century. I can make as much noise as I'd like. He's going to take care of me... Me.

I've never felt pleasure like that in my life. The part that excited me the most was that I was holding back, not wanting to get caught. What would happen if I let myself go? The part that scares me, however, is the fact that I'm already in too deep.

What if Rafe's thought about it since? Not in the way I'm hoping he would, the way that would stop him from doing it again. A moment of clarity where Rafe realizes that he may have made a mistake. I'm his student... He's my professor.

What if he's doing this with other people? What if I'm not the only student in Professor Cameron's class getting "extra credit"? Am I just another one of his girls?

I can't think about that.

I'm feeling things. And, I can't stop.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

You can hear shuffling behind the door, watching as the knob turns. The door fans open; Rafe meets your gaze with a smile. "You... Wow. You look stunning," he hails, bearing the door as you pass through.

Fuck, he looks good. You feel yourself get a little frazzled as you take Rafe in. A slim black button-down and slacks, coupled with yet another pair of designer dress shoes. He smells delicious; that same cologne reapplied, already burned into your brain. "You alright?" He smiles, looking down at you.

"More than alright, Rafe. Just a little nervous."

"About what?" He puffs, cocking his head to the side as he shuts the door. "Told ya I didn't bite. Not unless you want me to," Rafe chuckles warmly, turning you under his finger as he checks out your little dress again. "Goddamn. You're flawless."

"Thank you," you whisper as your cheeks blush. Rafe keeps his hand in yours, guiding you deeper into his house, letting you take it all in.

"So, what are you so nervous about?" Rafe presses a little further, not wanting to let it go until he figures it out.

"I don't know... I didn't expect to be here. I'm just - I hope you aren't having second thoughts."

"Me?" He chuckles; twisting his face slightly as a crooked smile spreads on his lips. "Never. No second thoughts."

"Okay... And, am I the only one-"

"Who's gettin' extra credit?" He snickers, reading your mind entirely. "You are the only one."

"Ever?" You ask, your voice just above a hush, kicking yourself for asking it in the first place to a grown-ass man. Rafe turns you toward him, lacing his fingers in yours; his lips meet your forehead, kissing you softly.

"If you're askin' if I've ever had sex in an office, and I said 'no,' I'd be lyin'," he chuckles weakly. His palms come up, resting gently on your cheeks, guiding your watch to his. "But, if you're askin' me if I've ever done that with a student... never. I've never done that."

You give him a soft smile. "I'm so happy I'm here with you."

"Me too," he hums. "Now, let's go relax. Yeah?" You nod as Rafe leans in, meeting your lips; kissing you deeply. Heat spreads across your body; the contact sets you ablaze, your entire being craving more of him.

Rafe walks you to his study, the mahogany countertop, adorned with six elegant bouquets. "Do you like flowers, princess?" He smiles; his hand resting on the small of your back.

"Of course," you respond dreamily, bending in to smell each. "Six? Rafe, this-"

"I didn't know what your favorite was..." He interjects, "Pink roses?" Rafe guesses, based solely on your reaction.

"Yeah, pink roses," you giggle. "Thank you."

He steers you to his leather couch, taking a seat. Before you can sink down, his hands are on you, guiding you to straddle his lap. You rest your hands lightly on his muscular chest as Rafe eyes you in his arms. His rough hands graze your back, landing on your bum; kneading your curves slowly.

"M'so glad you're here," he soughs, his lust-laced eyes locked on your lips. His crystal blues lift slowly to yours, sending chills down your spine. "You're still nervous sweetheart? Aren't you?"

You shake your head 'no' as you lean in close, kissing him tenderly. His hands drift down your bare thighs, slipping under the hem of your dress. "I'm not... I swear," you whisper as you widen your thighs, pressing your pussy against his rock-hard bulge as you start to grind slowly. Your lips hover close, Rafe, matching your steady breathing. Tension builds as you wait for the other to break.

Rafe kisses you deeply, a passionate exchange, pushing your hips to ride him clothed. "Need to taste you again. Fuck, you tasted so sweet," he mumbles between kisses. Rafe wraps you in his arms, lifting you off the couch. "Just a little bit now. I need it. Don't let me go any farther. Alright? Not yet."

He rests you back down on the couch, pulling you where he wants you, your body desperate for his lips. Rafe drops himself down to his knees for you, taking control as he spreads your thighs, eyeing your glistening cunt with a hungry groan. "No panties?" He chuckles darkly, his dangerous gaze flickering to yours. Rafe brushes your folds, gathering your essence all over his fingers, before sucking them clean as your eyes roll back. "M'so fuckin' hard, princess. Can't wait for you to suck my cock; make me cum again. Get that pretty little mouth of yours around my dick," he sighs. His strong arms loop around your thighs, pulling you closer than before, slumping you on the couch.

Rafe's eyes stay locked on yours as his lips do the same to your clit, sucking and brushing his tongue from side to side. He moans against your pussy, as his fingers toy with your entrance, teasing your pearl with the chilled ridges of his gold ring. Your thighs tremble, tightening around him.

"C'mon, baby," he taunts, spreading you wider, sucking and finger-fucking you with a little more force. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, holding back your cries of pleasure.

"Hey... Woah. Woah... Wait a minute, baby girl," he chides. "Need to hear you. Alright?"

"Yes, daddy..."

"Well, shit..." Rafe rasps as he grabs your legs, slinging them over his shoulders. "I could get used to that."

Everything increases; your heart rate, the pressure, the depth of his tongue in your soaked hole. "You taste like heaven," he pants, bumping his nose against your clit, making your thighs quake. Rafe laps at your pussy, devouring you completely. He breathes deeply, taking in your scent; the vibration of his low moan felt against your heat.

Rafe takes your clit into his mouth, sucking harshly, making you cry out; heels digging into his black dress shirt as you buck your hips; voice echoing through the large house. "There ya go... Atta girl."

Your back arches, lips crying out for him. "Fuck, Rafe. M'right there," you blubber. You reach for your satin straps, tugging down the top of your dress, letting your breasts spill free. Your hands instantly draw up to your tits, squeezing and pressing them together for him. Rafe bites down on your swollen clit; making you throw your head back. A choked sob spills from your lips.

Your hands drop down, weaving into his hair, giving it a rough tug. You grind your pussy on his face, feeling yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. "Rafe, s-shit." Your eyes screw shut as you cum on his face, pleasure coursing through your system as your pussy clamps down around his thick fingers. Rafe works you through your orgasm, waiting until you're fully unwound to release you with a panting breath.

"Need it - Fuck. I need your cock in my mouth," you gasp; eyes still shut as you do your best to recover.

"Baby, c'mon..." He chuckles breathily as his lips find yours. You can taste yourself on his lips, making your mind fuzzy. "I wanna share a drink. Take you on a tour... You were supposed to hold me back. You can wait. Right?" You can hear the taunting in his tone, a devilish smirk playing on his kiss-bitten lips.

"Yes, daddy."

Rafe cups your breasts in his hands. Pinching and rolling your pebbled blush between his fingers. He sucks down, trailing wet kisses before biting your sensitive skin, causing you to moan again. "You're mine," he whispers, nuzzling himself into your chest. "I don't want anyone else to have you but me. Understand?"

"What - Wait..." You ask breathlessly. "I mean. Are you sure, Rafe? You barely know me. What if I didn't come into your office today-"

"You would have... eventually. I just got lucky. I always get what I want, princess. I don't wanna see you come into class with anyone else. Don't wanna overhear some douchebag talkin' about some absolutely stunning girl he took home from the bar. You're mine. My pussy," he breathes, making your breath hitch as he slaps your sensitive cunt, soothing it with his cupped palm. "My tits," he mumbles, licking a line through your cleavage as he palms them together. "My lips," he whispers as he kisses you again. "My fuckin' girl. Mine."

"M'yours, Rafe."

**********

"So, you're a professor? Just a professor?" You ask through a flirty grin as you swirl your champagne.

"Yeah... Got bored. Decided to go to college, then grad school; got my doctorate for fun," he rasps before taking a sip.

"So..." You look around, letting your silence speak for itself.

"I made some smart business decisions when I was young. Set myself up nicely."

"Mob boss?" You quip, making him cock his brow and laugh.

"If I told you, princess. I'd have to kill you." Rafe plays along, shooting you a mischievous look. "So, you're pretty far from home. You plannin' on going back for Spring Break, or are you gonna hang around here?"

You laugh nervously, wrinkling your brow, confused yet intrigued, charmed that he went out of his way to find out more about you. "How do you know where I'm from?"

He clears his throat, regretting his words slightly, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt on his thick forearms as he shifts anxiously. "Uh... Um," he puffs, draining some more liquor into his champagne flute. "Your student account," he mumbles sheepishly.

"Professor Cameron!" You gasp, flirtingly, as you lean in a little closer.

"S'bad. Alright. I know. I know! I couldn't help myself. I had to be proactive. Alright? High stakes. I gotta be real careful who I associate myself with."

"And you can associate yourself with me, Rafe?"

"Yeah. I have a good intuition, princess. Questionin' yours a little," he bullies. "That neighborhood you live in is shit, by the way. It's not safe, baby."

Your eyes double in surprise. The more he exposes, the more it should worry me, I know, but he's pulling me deeper. He's possessive, calculated, obsessed even. But, I fuckin' love it. How much more does he know about me?

I need to know.

"You look handsome," you laud; just a slight bite of your lip as you lean into the armrest, hair tumbling to the side. You cross your legs, letting your little dress ride up your thigh.

His eyebrows raise, running his palm against his wide smile, attempting to play it cool as he stares at the valley of your thigh. "Just tryin' to keep up with you, baby. You look stunning. Did you wear that-"

"On New Year's Eve..." You finish his sentence as a smirk pulls on your lips, Rafe taking the bait effortlessly. "Do you follow me on Instagram?"

"No... Just stalk you," he admits, not an ounce of shame in his voice. He can see that you clearly enjoy his attention. "Like I said... Gotta be careful who I keep around. Not to mention, I had to keep an eye on who else was watchin' you. I don't share." He smirks before tossing back the rest of his champagne. Oh...

"That's all you did, Rafe? Just look at my pictures; make sure I was safe?"

He gives you an open-mouth smile as a blush creeps across his cheeks. "You really wanna know?"

"I really wanna know..."

"That red swimsuit you wore in Cabo might be my favorite thing, princess."

You roll your eyes, expelling a dizzy laugh. "So... Again, Professor Cameron, is that all you did? Just look at my pictures; make sure I was safe?"You bully before taking a sip.

His gaze darkens on yours, the look in his eyes telling you more than enough. "Absolutely not."

Rafe adjusts himself in his chair, spreading his thighs a little wider as he pinches a fresh cigar between his lips. He reaches over to the coffee table, snagging the Perrier-Joute, drinking from the bottle. You can see that he's getting more comfortable as time passes by, as well. Laughing a little more, a few more buttons on his shirt undone, drinking straight from the source.

"So, Rafey," you ask in an unholy tone as you stroll from your chair to his, dropping down to your knees to slink the rest of the way. "Is there anything I can do for you? I really need that A."

He quickly forgets his cigar, resting it in the ashtray without a second thought. Rafe extends the bottle to you, pouring it carefully, some still dribbling from your glossed lips down your chin. He leans down, pinching your cheeks in one hand, licking the mess to your lips. "I got a few things you can do for me, princess."

"Tell me," you whisper, fingering the buttons of his Dior button-down before pulling it open fully. Your fingers trace down his tanned chest, passing through the deep indentations of his abs to his black leather belt.

You can already see his long, thick cock; trapped in Italian wool, making your mouth water. "Since you're on your knees," Rafe smiles as he pinches the button of his pants, opening that, then the zipper. "Why don't you choke on daddy's cock. Hmm?" You can feel the wetness between your thighs, the soft sweetness of his voice contrasting his domineering words, making your head spin. You draw the material over his hips, releasing his aching dick.

You glide your fingers through your pussy; gathering your slick on your digits, taking hold of the base of Rafe's cock. He shakes his head and smiles as his teeth tug on his bottom lip. You work him slowly, watching as the little bead of precum grows larger.

Rafe's hand toils through your hair, brushing it away so he can get a better view of your face. "So pretty on your knees, baby-" Rafe's words get lost in a moan as your warm tongue traces along his prominent vein, catching his cum as it drips down the side.

You lick a few fat stripes up his shaft, kissing his ruddy tip wetly as his dick twitches in your palm. "Fuck, honey," he groans deeply, tossing his head back on the leather chair. "Might not ever let you leave." His hold on your strands tightens as your warm, wet mouth wraps around his swollen tip. A deep moan follows as you suckle on Rafe's head, flicking your tongue along his slit. You caress his balls, taking him to the back of your throat.

Rafe pushes you a little farther, releasing a needy moan as you deepthroat cock. Tears roll heavily down your cheeks as you take as much of him as you can get, gliding off slowly; swirling to the tip, making Rafe's eyes roll back. "Jesus Christ, angel, where's that gag reflex? Huh?" He laughs airly. "So good at sucking cock." Rafe pitches his hips, ramming you deep, making you gag. "Mmm... Shit. There she is," he groans.

Rafe slumps a little lower as he lifts the bottle to his lips, taking a pull. "Gonna bust my load already... Damn, you look good," he praises through a panting breath, making his stomach muscles flex. His thick thighs tremble as you start to stroke him with your mouth, rolling his heavy balls in your tiny hand. You release his cock with a pop, causing him to let out a desperate plea for more.

"M'so wet, Rafe," you whine, feeling your wetness drip from your pussy, gliding down your inner thigh. You take two fingers, skimming them through the mess. Rafe's already set, snatching your wrist; guiding your dainty fingers to his mouth.

He savors the taste, only releasing them when you tighten your lips around his dick again. Twisting your hand at the base, you bob up and down. Rafe follows your strokes, pressing you down here and there as he mumbles praise. "Lips look so good around my cock, sweetheart. Look at you, take it, baby. Such a good little slut f'me. Gag on it. Fuckin' gag on me. Mine... This mouth is fucking mine."

You hollow your cheeks, milking his cock with your mouth, making him whimper and shift in his chair as his eyes slam shut. "I'm right fuckin' there. I - I'm... Fuckkk," he moans, hazy eyes widening as you sink your pussy down on his dick instead.

"Bounce on my cock. Tits in your face," you whisper against his lips, repeating his words from his office as you lower the top of your dress as well.

"You're a fantasy, baby. Fuck." Rafe slaps your ass cheek roughly, then the other side, hissing out a breath as your pussy tightens around him. Rafe pants and groans, his muscles wound tight as he tries to hold steady, watching you as you ride and bounce on top. He's speechless, eyes moving from your face to your breasts; losing control when he glances down, watching the place where you connect; his thick cock glistening with you.

"Fuck me," he grunts in blissful defeat, taking a harsh grip on your hips, pounding deep. Rafe moans your name as he cums hard, continuing to fuck upward, gritting his teeth in overstimulation. No part of him wants to stop now that he has you like this. Rafe pulls you into his lips, kissing you slowly as you grind through his sticky spent.

"Should I stop?" You whisper, feeling Rafe's smile spread against your lips.

"No, princess. Don't fuckin' stop."

********

Your garter belt wraps around your thighs, lingerie hugging the fullness of your breasts; something new, something bought by Rafe just for you. It's a gorgeous set; cups made of two large satin ribbons tied at the center; your crotchless panties, a delicate red lace.

"C'mon, princess. Stop makin' me wait," he croons.

"This is too much, Rafe... I don't need all of this. Truly," you sigh as you round the corner, relaxing against the doorframe.

Rafe licks his lip, savoring each glimpse of bare skin. "Nah... This one's for me." He pushes off the bed, moving toward you, pulling you close before kissing you deeply, breaking away from time to time, solely to take you in. "Better than I imagined..."

"You thought about this?" You hum.

"More than I should, princess," Rafe breathes, lifting you into his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist as you bend your arms a little tighter around his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

Rafe walks you over to the bed slowly, taking his time as you press your chest against his, hearts picking up pace together. He sets you down on the mattress, mounting you a moment later.

Rafe's absolutely beautiful like this: dark blonde hair a mess, flushed cheeked, skin dewy. He cages you in, admiring you for a moment before starting again. He grinds his dick against you, trailing pre cum on your skin as he works his body against yours. Rafe continues to tease the both of you, his cock, painfully hard as you wait for him to ease your ache.

He swirls his dick through your arousal, nudging your entrance with his swollen head. Rafe gives you one last look before dropping his focus low. "Shittt," he groans as your walls pull him in. He fights the urge to throw his hips into you, working slow enough to let you feel every curve and ridge until he's filled you to the brim. You don't even realize you're holding your breath until he rests his heavy head on your shoulder.

"Fuck, Rafe."

"Squeezin' me so tight," he breathes. Rafe completely bottoms you out, balls resting against your ass. He grips your hips, forcing himself even deeper, pressing his cock into you with his full weight making you squirm away slightly.

"Where are you goin', Princess?" He mumbles against your warm skin, the safeword you joked about during dessert right on the tip of your tongue, but the pleasure outweighs the pain.

"Nowhere, daddy," you pant as you wrap your legs around his waist, urging him to stay.

"My girl," Rafe growls, lips latching onto your neck, sucking harshly. He marks you with his lips, branding you with what will surely leave behind a dark purple hickey. His teeth sink into your skin, causing you to whimper.

Rafe starts to rock his cock into you, nailing your sweet spot each time. You wrap your arms around him, marking him in your own way as your manicured nails drive into his skin. Rafe moans your name, getting off on the ache.

His body drags away from yours, tugging at the bow between your breasts, letting the satin fall to your sides as he changes positions. Rafe starts to stroke as hands move from your hips to your breasts, gripping them tight, pinching and rolling your nipples before settling on your neck.

You wait impatiently for his grasp as Rafe studies his skin on yours. He smirks wickedly, watching the way his rings glint in the low lighting, his hand wrapped like a necklace around your pretty little throat.

Rafe tightens his grip, making your eyes roll back as he pumps into slow and deep, snapping his hips each time. You can feel yourself a little more breathless than before; your pulse felt under his heavy hand. You let out a choked cry as his other hand finds your clit, rubbing circles on top.

"Faster," you beg, your voice cock-drunk and hoarse.

"Mmm... Bet my little slut wants it harder too. Yeah?"

"Yes - Fuck," you squeal. Your breasts bounce with each clap of his hips, his fat tip kissing your g-spot with each thrust. Rafe gives it to you harder and faster as you feel your pleasure about to boil over.

He's just as pussy-drunk, eyes glossed, pupils blown. Your eyes flutter closed, drool seeping out of the corner of your plump lips. You feel Rafe's breath on your skin, his soft tongue cleaning you off just as he did with the champagne, spitting it back into your open mouth this time.

His tongue tangles with yours, sloppy and breathless, as you swallow each other's sounds. "M'gonna cum," you gasp, feeling tears of pleasure well in your eyes.

"Me too, baby. You gonna make a mess? Let me clean it up for you," he pants.

"Yeah-ahh," you answer shakily. Warm liquid squirts from your sex, soaking Rafe's thick cock and his expensive sheets. "Fuck, Rafe," you whimper. I can't believe I just did that... I've only seen that in porn. Rafe quickly snuffs out your embarrassment as he coaxes you further.

"Fuck, baby. Just like that. I think my girls got more in her. Don't you?" He grunts, not letting up, applying more pressure to your clit. You feel it again; a second release, Rafe fucking you through the spurts of your climax.

Rafe was right. He always gets what he wants.

"Gonna cum... Gonna fill you so full, Princess. Fuck," he moans.

"Cum in my pussy, daddy."

Rafe's eyes roll back at the sounds of your voice, his release following close behind, muscles tightening as he floods you with his finish. He throws his head back, breathing deeply as he comes down from his high.

"Co'mere..." You whisper. Rafe gives you a satisfied smile, burying himself in your neck; holding you close for a moment before rolling you on top.

You rest your head on his chest, listening as his heart starts to slow with his breathing. Rafe's rough fingertips skim your spine as he releases a deep breath. "Mmm... Baby?" He mumbles sleepily, wrapping you tightly in his arms.

"Yes," you whisper, blissed out and breathless as you meet his beautiful eyes.

"You're never leaving."

954 notes · View notes

anadiasmount · 6 months

Text

limit - jude bellingham series.

quick sum: shy and innocent uni student by day but a notorious street racer at night, meets now currently best footballer jude bellingham under certain circumstances. what happens when these two are forced to get along, in order for them to get out of trouble? will they sacrifice their careers in order to protect themselves?

wc: 4.7k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: hello! this is a request mixed with an idea i had. this is a small five-part series since I didn’t want to do a large fic. i really hope you enjoy since it’s a enemies to lovers, ‘she fell but he fell harder’, car girl! reader, and jude being somewhat cocky and mean but a huge teddy bear. pls note that i don’t condone any street racing or hectic driving! this series will have mature content so minors DNI 🔞. it will also contain other issues dealing with family domestic issues, mentions of being insecure, etc, but I'll place the warning then :) please enjoy chapter one, and let me know your thoughts! 🤍

“Now class I hate to stress this enough but you have to take exquisite and thorough notes. It will not only guide you but help and take you to the correct path for this course,” said Professor Alto. I felt like rolling my eyes and walking out of the lecture room, but instead, I just turned over and laughed with Marie, who was already staring at me. “He says that every class period, I'm starting to get annoyed because we’ve been taking this class for the past month,” Marie snickers.

“True but in all honesty he does have a point,” I raise my eyebrow and look back at the Professor who was now walking back and forth presenting the slides. “Shut up. We get it you’re smart,” Marie groans and pushes my shoulder, taking out some gum and then paying attention forward. “I'm sorry, I would like to run my own business one day, and this is where I have to start first.” This time I push her shoulder, and hear her mutter a ‘Yeah yeah whatever…’

I grabbed my bag and pulled out my notebook, took different coloured pens, and began to write down the slides, using other different coloured pens to write important texts and or highlights. It’s just girly things. We would be here for a while, as this lecture would take up to three hours, so I got comfortable. “What are you wearing tonight?” Marie whispered, leaning her head on my shoulder as she typed away.

“Probably something black,” I shrugged, “I might wear this new corset top and black jeans since I'm racing tonight.” Marie looked over at me with wide eyes, “But isn't your car still in the shop?”

“No, it got fully fixed two days ago, and tonight I wanna see if the new adjustments are working properly,” I say, taking a sip of water and rubbing my eyes as they feel dry. “Y/n are you sure that’s a good idea though? You just got your car back, and knowing how you race, especially after just getting it back can be dangerous. If something happens, all that work that was done would go to waste,” Marie stresses, and I notice that because she began to talk with her hands.

“I know the risks, trust me. But I need this money for me, my mom, and my little sister. I'm working two double shifts and if I win tonight, I'm set for the next two months. It won’t be an easy race, but at this point what more can I do?” I sigh and rub my temple, a small migraine wanting to form.

It wasn't easy anymore. It became harder when we had to move out of my dad’s place as he began to become a different and mad person. It wasn’t the environment I wanted to be involved in, let alone my mother and sister. It became especially harder when he came and did mass destruction on our property, and tried to hurt us. The night repeatedly lives in my head, the screams, the yelling, the smashing windows, the red and blue lights, it's hard to sleep as any time I close my eyes I just see him.

I always had a great relationship with him. We were close and happy. I grew up wanting to be him, and he always set examples and tried for us. He would do my hair, teach me how to cook his chocolate chip cookies, and even go on to show me how to play the piano. We spent every weekend working in his mechanic shop, working on dear old Darla for one day to be driven by me. The old black Ford was now ruined into pieces when he went crazy after discovering he would be arrested.

What changed in him to become that way, was the question I kept repeating over and over again. If the truth comes out one day, maybe we can be at peace. But for now, it's being cautious and assuring the safety of my family. I sacrificed a lot to be able to support us, as well as my mom. The car racing was something I randomly got into, my mom didn't like it, but in a way for me, I escaped reality.

The adrenaline rush. The speed. The rush overtakes my body. The determination to win as the prize in the end holds a lot of possession. Maybe even the idea of it being illegal also took a more motive of why not, as bad as it sounded. I became a hell of a driver, I was the best of the best, and some people took that personally.

The tracks and races became a second home to me. The ability to conduct and take charge of my own was truly an honour. For once, only I listened to myself instead of others. For once I could do something that made me happy, as much as it felt wrong to do. I met people, good and bad, and stayed away from the bad as they reminded me of my dad. A weekend like tonight started at the tracks but indeed by the city in the underground club Sahara.

I saved enough to buy myself a 2014 black Dodge Challenger. Slowly I made work by changing the motor from a V6 to a V8, running to almost 470 horsepower. The rims were also replaced with all black, and I added other features like a loud exhaust and a cold air intake system, just recently. This would’ve never been done if I didn't have Jimmy, an old friend of my dad’s. He never questioned what I did to my car, just wished me ‘good luck, and be careful’.

When my mom found out about my car, she threatened to kick me out. That same night I brought back $1,800 and left them on the table, muttering a quick “This is why I do what I do”. Since then she hasn’t questioned, just used the money for savings, groceries, and bills. I would of course help out, especially on bigger and expensive things, like Uni. Uni was expensive, and I sure as heck was lucky to afford what I could.

My first race was over a year ago, in the older tracks leaving Madrid. It was a secluded area only known to nearby residents, or people like me who raced, or those who went to live life a little. You could expect anyone there. I knew of this place after Marie and her girlfriend Kaia took me. My first race was that same night after a girl got pissed at me for accidentally bumping her shoulder with her boyfriend.

One thing led to another, and then you saw me at the finish line in Marie’s Grey Nissan Altima. That baby could run, period.

Part of me could say I also got addicted to how much money it would bring home. I didn't care if it was clean or dirty money, it met my needs, and I was grateful for it. Multiple people have gone against me but they can’t race like I can. There are tips and tricks to it, whether it is releasing the clutch early or letting the car struggle a bit before making the shift. Slow down or maybe speed up. You learn along the way.

My biggest rivals of them all were Jacey and Jacqueline. They made my life a living hell a week before finals. They insisted and threatened me to race them or else I would be kicked out and can’t ever place my foot on the tracks. They were the best anyone had seen, but I knew what they wanted. They were a part of a malicious gang in the northern part of Spain. If I won, I would be free and they were to never bother me, but if I lost I would do laundering and drug exchange.

I won that night, by some miracle. It turned out Jacey was racing unfairly and it didn't count as he had cheated. They would always go against me, and it became sort of a rival race whenever we did go against each other. Like tonight. Tonight would be a big night, it would be a packed race, and surely every young adult would be there.

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re going against Jacqueline tonight? How could you have failed to tell me this?” Marie ran, her back across the wall as I got myself a redbull to survive the rest of the day. We had a 20-minute break, and now we were seated outside waiting to go back in.

“I didn’t know either, Max texted me this just a couple of hours ago,” I said, taking a sip of the energy drink. I pulled out my phone and showed her the message. “Well, I can see why you’re doing this then,” Marie points to the text of the amount of cash I could win. “What did you end up fixing in your car?”

“I did a bit of mostly everything. I added high-flow catalytic converters, high-flow mid pipes, high-flow fuel injectors, high-flow air induction systems, an upgraded header, and upgraded pulleys. Just newer stuff that the new challengers have nowadays,” I say, laughing at Marie's confused face staring back at me. “Well whatever you said, let’s hope it works out.”

“Trust me it will. Because you’ll be in the seat next to me to see” I smirked.

“Bitch no I am not, the fuck?” Marie gives me a puzzled look. I give her a look for using such profanity. I hated it, I didn't like such strong and hateful words, especially those that meant hurting someone's feelings. I never cursed, I just didn't see the fun or thrill of it, which shocked many.

“You are because you lost the bet last week. And Sheila is out of town. So better bring your mask and helmet,” I say, opening my iPad to get some studying done before my business class after this lecture. “Plus when have you ever turned down the opportunity to ride with me? I know you secretly love it,” I wink at her to which he just shakes her head and smirks.

“I'll do it, but only if you wear the black midi skirt I got you. As a matter of fact, I’ll ride with you only if you let me get you ready and get you sexy,” Marie says. I blush profusely and immediately shake my head no. I would rather die than be seen wearing anything more revealing than my boobs. I'm just too shy and not confident for it. I can’t rock outfits like Marie can.

“Funny but no. You know me, I am good with a revealing top and maybe some tight jeans,” I brushed her idea once again, but knowing how she could be, especially when she's a fashion major, it would be hard. “Either deal or no deal. You know you need me in order to race,” she tries to intimidate to which I finally agree. “I will make you the sexiest girl there. Who knows maybe you’ll be lucky and get laid,” she taunts, an evil grin on her lips.

“Marie!”

“Oh quit the act. We know you are shy and innocent, but you become a freak and a total show when you race. I'll see you tonight,” she winks and walks out, completely leaving the lecture.

—/— Jude’s Point of View —/—

After matches came recovery. And after recovery, it was either a day off or prepping for the next match. Luckily I had the gym area to myself, working with a physical trainer on my knee and doing a few exercises that were as much work. I just needed something to preoccupy my mind before I met with my publicist. It's not that I hated him, I just didn't tolerate such a person like him.

I dragged out this meeting as far as possible but knowing how he is, he wouldn't care. After briefly talking with the PT about a few stretches I could do at home, I walked down the cafeteria and met up with Eduardo, who invited lunch for the both of us. We sat down and just talked about the game plays and the upcoming international break.

Lunch went by quickly, now I found myself walking down the small hallway into the office that belonged to my publicist. I resented him even more for working at the training grounds. I would rather be anywhere else but here. I put myself together and walked into the office only for it to be empty. I just take a seat and go on my phone bored. When Jaime does walk in, he hangs up and opens the manilla folder, where stacks of papers are in.

“Jude you have to quit going out so much! Look at all these articles!” Jaime raised his voice and threw the printed papers onto the marble desk. I rolled my eyes and sunk into my chair, my legs naturally spread apart, as my hand came to my temple.

“Real Madrid’s new star boy stars on and off the pitch. Ancelotti’s new golden boy has a record similar to Grealish, could we expect to see the young player get involved in the same stuff? Oh, my favourite, Jude Bellingham is seen leaving the strip club after the place was recently investigated by local authorities!” Jaime read off the articles, leaning forward to slap the side of my head, when he noticed my unfazed look. “Okay, I get it! Shit!”

“No Jude you don’t get it! How many times have I told you this isn't England? You're in Spain. Dealing with both countries who are on your ass to find every single detail of you. They follow you around with a camera because you let them, you give them a reason too. It's already the fans doing it, but the paparazzi, no I won’t let that slide,”

“Okay, so what do you want me to do? I’ve done everything you’ve suggested me to do! I can’t stop them, or else I'll end up on the cover the next morning. I can’t just quit my fun, because of them. I deserve to have a nice evening with my friends and family, but they're always there!” I bite back.

Not even my mother keeps tabs on me like this man does. I appreciate Jaime, but it's moments like this where I want to get up and leave and do the opposite of what he tells me to do. He takes his job too seriously and overworks himself way too much. I can’t exactly be the person he wants me to be. I hate being driven around or being forced to be someone I'm not.

“We have no say and do on the paparazzi, you know that. But if you keep doing what you do, I'll have to get you a stricter PR contract, and I can assure you, it will be hell. You choose Jude. One more fuck up and it's the first text you’ll receive the next morning,” Jaime threatened.

“You can’t be serious. Jaime, I can’t be hidden away the entire time! I don’t give a shit about what they think of me! I'm focused on football and my family. I told you to let them be and write what they write!,” I say, standing up and grabbing my training bag to leave. “It's my job to protect your image as a person and footballer, Jude. And it will be like that. If you have such an issue, go ahead and fire me, but we both know what that will do for the both of us…”

“One more fuck up Jude, and you will see.” I scoff and walk out, slamming his door. The office workers jump in their seats, while I mumble out curses and insults towards him. Would he really go that far just to keep his job? Threaten my image for his self-satisfaction? Yes, he would. I sigh and scratch my chin impatiently, trying to come up with a different plan to avoid the PR contract he was talking about. But all I could do was come up with reasons and stuff to piss him off.

The idea of a PR stunt sounded stupid. Sure, I have had my share of scandals but nothing too serious like he dramatises. People just can't seem to stand the idea of no commitment, especially if it involves girls. They also couldn't stand the idea of a footballer wanting to go out and enjoy a night of themselves. Some people can be so unreasonable, like Jaime, I would say what I had to say, and I didn't care for anyone’s feelings especially if I spit out the truth.

“Yo! Hey Jude! What’s up? Looks like you got back from speaking with Carlo,” Eduardo comes up and dabs me up, teasing me for my stressed look. I chuckle, “Nah man. My publicist is pissing me off. Trying to tell me what to do and giving me shit about all these articles.”

“When will they learn,” he comments, his brow nudging to the obvious. “For the moment mine hasn't given me ‘advice’ or ‘warnings’ after our trip to South France.”

“Well lucky you. I just can’t stress about this shit right now. We have the upcoming important games, and I am determined to win. And if I do go out, he shouldn’t be up my ass about it every time,” I groan, taking out my phone and seeing a call from Aurélien. “Tchou, how can I help you?” I joke, referring to when he dealt with his situationship while on our trip to France.

“Ha ha, very funny. What are you up to tonight? We’re free tomorrow.”

“Probably nothing. Just walked out on my publicist, so If you have anything in mind to do, say it,” I put the phone on speaker so Eduardo could hear, and let him know. “Me and the guys were gonna head out the city to go to a car meet, out of Madrid,” he says. I give a look to Eduardo who just shrugs his shoulders not retaining the information.

“A car meet? Those exist here?”

“Yes, dumbass. You’d be surprised but, they're very fun. Although we shouldn't be there, it's the only place where people and paparazzi can’t recognize us. They treat each other and us like royalty, plus who wouldn’t mind some fun?” Aurélien says to us. I hesitate, only because of what just happened inside, but also the idea of it being illegal and caught. “You guys in or not?”

“Count me in.”

Jaime wouldn't know. And if Aurélien is saying we wouldn't be recognized, then why the fuck not? I'm not here to just pose for cameras and play. I'm also a regular person who deserves to live his life the way I want. Part of me thought of how bad this idea could be, but truthfully I didn’t give a shit, I just wanted to piss off Jaime. Aurélien advises us to dress nice since people who attended those car races often thought of them as fashion shows. Which is found myself calling the only girl who could help me out.

“Hey, Sunny? Sorry for the late call, could you help me out with an outfit for tonight? Just don't mention it to Jaime.”

—/— (Your Point of View) —/—

“Ok no- That’s like way too revealing! I couldn't pull that off” I brushed away the shortest skirt she found. “Nuh uh- No way. You're going to wear it, and it's going to be worn with these shoes and lace meshy top,” Marie comes behind me and puts both hangers to my front. “My whole butt is out in this skirt! People are gonna see my-” I waved with my hands to my lower region to which she snickers.

“Either you race or don’t,” Marie says, to which I just squint my eyes together. “Fine! I will at least pick out my jacket!” I pick up the clothes and quickly change into the pieces of clothes she gave me. My makeup was already done, a simple and not too heavy look since I had to wear a mask and helmet underneath while I raced. All I had to do was take my hair out of my rollers and apply some deodorant and jewellery and we could make the drive down.

Marie gasped as I walked out, clapping her hands excitedly as she approached me. “You look so fucking hot, I could make out with you!” Her hands roam and fix my skirt so they pull lower and hang around my hips. I give her a look but she quickly shrugs me. I go to the mirror and tug on both items. “I don't know whether to pull this up or or tug it down,” I say shuffling.

“Hurry! Fix your hair and put your boots on. You have a race to win!”

I pose for a selfie when I see Marie point her phone towards me, my hands on the steering wheel as I pull into the gravel road that heads to the main road to the tracks. Goosebumps raise my skin as I hear the music and loud car exhaust as we pull in. Other cars are doing donuts, which I find silly, or showing off their engines. “Hi Matty, how are ya tonight?” I ask the middle-aged man who sighs and hands me my racer number and time slot. He’s tired of his job, but just like everyone else here, he has his reasons. “Same old same old. I bet money on ya tonight, so you better win against that trashy girl Jacqueline,” he points out, handing me back the cashback after I paid. “Good luck tonight, make us proud!” he winks.

I smile and shift to one as I drive down to the start of the line. The tracks are old and kinda messy. They can shift from gravel to normal roads, which causes some drivers to lose focus. “Nervous for tonight?” Marie asks to which I nervously nod. “I mean it's against Jacqueline, we’ve had our shares in the past and she’s good,” I say.

“Yeah but not as good as you. Keep that in mind. Just think of the money, it will be your motive,” she says. We open the door and step out, I hear commotion and then look up to people cheering for me. I wave and thank them before walking over to our group who’s standing by the starting line. We all hug and chat about the race, which is filled with a lot of rivals going head to head.

I could feel my blood pumping as I watched the two Mustangs take out, their exhaust fumes following. The excitement you face also comes to anticipation as you watch which car will make it first to the end. The yellow Mustang wins by .4 seconds after they race for almost two minutes. I turn to the side when I hear my name being called, “Y/n, when are we gonna race?”

“As soon as you let me see what’s under your hood,” they scoff and walk off. It would've been too easy…

—/— (Jude’s Point of View) ---/—

The black LV suit was perfect for the occasion. Aurélien was right, people do dress as if they were attending fashion shows here. We all decided to go in two cars, making the almost forty-minute drive down to this closed-off restricted area. We followed the guide who led us up to the almost ‘VIP’ area.

The commotion was loud. People were either drinking, making out, or dancing. Or those who wanted to feel lucky, gambled money by playing poker. This truly did feel like a bad idea now, but I couldn't care less now that I was drinking a beer. We had clear and perfect views of the track, I was lucky to attend an F1 show in the past but this? This was completely different.

Fancy or new cars racing, and it was just the beginning. I talked with Eduardo for a good time as I observed the loud car go head to head towards the finish line. Music played loudly, but as Aurélien had said, no one recognized us. We step out and that’s when I notice the black challenger pull in. Two girls step out, but it's the driver who gets my attention. She chews gum and listens with boredom as they explain the rules to her.

My eyes roam down her slim and fit body, and I get a closer look when she quickly puts on her mask and helmet. I find myself not being able to look away, especially after she faces her opponent, ignoring their truce handshake. She’s too confident and now has my full attention.

Her windows are rolled down, her hand on the wheel, and the other is on the gear shift, patiently waiting for the light to turn green. “Who’s that?” I finally speak, completely forgetting I was in mid-conversation with Eduardo. “That’s Y/n in the black challenger. And in the red camaro is Jacqueline. They hate their guts, biggest rivals after Jacqueline's brother cheated on a race. Y/n, she’s the best of the best…” speaks a different guy. “Word on the street is that Jacqueline is involved in a gang, but who knows,” he says.

Y/n pulls out her thumb signalling she’s ready, and then quickly drives off when the light turns green. Just like the guy had said, she was the best of the best, quickly drifting and turning onto the tracks. Her car was faster than the red camaro, and you could tell the determination to win was there. I just waited for it to go the other way.

Soon yelling and commotion started when Jacqueline caught up, and took the lead, Y/n just maintained her speed and control as before. “What is she doing? She’ll lose if she doesn't catch up!” said another guy. I furrowed my brows and crossed my arms, looking back at the two cars on the race track. I didn’t understand how this worked, but it looked like not even I could make those turns, especially at those speeds.

Everyone gasped or oohed when the camaro lost control and failed to do the sharp tight turn correctly, cheering when Y/n went back to the lead and quickly made it to the finish line. We walked down to the starting line where she got out, and put her hands up, and cheered. She took her helmet and mask off, and that's when I truly was drawn to her facial features. “Bro? You’re drooling,” Brahim joked to which I just pushed his shoulder.

The crowd went quiet as the red camero pulled in, an angry Jacqueline and passenger getting off to confront Y/n. “You cheated!” she points at her to which the girl wearing all black just snorted and chuckled, “No babes. You just suck. I won, just like the other times before. Now go whine somewhere else and leave us alone for once.”

Her eyes connected with mine, and it felt like time just slowly flew by. Her lips parted, as she took me in, her hand holding the helmet and now stack of cash. She looked away and shyly smiled towards her friends, them congratulating her. She would nod then and there and only stick with those friends. “I’ll be back. Going to congratulate the winner,” I say and smile at Eduardo who wishes me luck. I don't need luck I'm Jude Bellingham.

I was determined to know more about her. Who she was, and why she raced especially. But before I could introduce myself, a loud bang and glass shattering prevented me from doing so. The last I saw while we ran was Y/n getting into her car and driving away. A loud car pulled near us, the familiar face and eyes locking with mine.

“Hurry! Get in!”

---/--- ( author's note) ---/---

hiiiii! first chapter eeekkkk! I hope you all enjoyed it and didn't think this was too long! I truly enjoyed writing this, and can't wait for you guys to read the rest. I'm also praying this doesn't flop or I'll be really upset... have an amazing day!

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x y/n #football fanfic #football one shot #football #football x you #footballer

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sserpente · 6 months

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LOKI SEASON 2 FINALE ... LET'S DO THIS

One last time. Let's do this. *hands out tissues*

HEAVY SPOILERS FOR THE FINALE UNDER THE CUT!

Okay. Let's face it. I was sobbing, you were sobbing, we were all sobbing, right?!

This episode was so damn good. An absolute cinematic masterpiece and a finale worth a beloved character like Loki.

If you've seen my Instagram story today you'll know that I was ugly crying and struggling to breathe.

Honestly. I was a mess. I still am a mess. I'm tearing up again as I'm writing this. I'm still processing. And I have so many questions!

First of all... Loki learned everything O.B. knew about the Temporal Loom and the mechanics of the TVA, spent fucking centuries doing this? Can we please talk about the commitment? I realise there was a comical aspect to this but UM?! The commitment!

The winks throughout killed me. Betcha. His calm professor-like voice had me feral, thank you very much.

When he realised that there is nothing that could fix the Temporal Loom... I immediately thought he's gonna have to stop He Who Remains from dying. When he went back there... my heart almost stopped.

For a moment, I honestly believed that he would kill Sylvie. I thought that's where the conversation he had with Mobius (which was so damn heartbreaking and epic and such an amazing verbal conclusion to Loki's way of thinking and realisation... you could practically see him struggling with the right decision and the fact that he went to ask Mobius for help is just so damn heartbreaking and sweet!) was leading. That he'd sacrifice the one person who was truly like him, who he was on one wavelength with, an outsider like him.

(That conversation with He Who Remains... him saying he paved the way for him to be able to manipulate time... and Loki outsmarting him and finding a way to keep everyone alive?! PLEASE CAN WE JUST?!)

But instead... damn, talk about a sacrifice. Loki is a fucking hero. Even writing this is so damn satisfying. Loki is a hero. And you know why that is so damn special? It's not because we wanted to prove that he's not a villain, it's not because we desperately wanted to see something in him that we obviously knew was there but it's because we didn't need him to be. He's our Loki, our cheeky God of Mischief. We loved him regardless. And now he is a hero.

Loki, the God of Stories. Loki, the God of Time.

The very moment he went down there I started sobbing. I knew at that moment that there was going to be a sacrifice of some sort. As he walked out there... and the cape appeared and those HORNS. THOSE HORNS that looked just like the cracked marble of the Citadel and He Who Remains' TemPad... I was screaming, sobbing, ugly crying... is it silly when I say that I was actually struggling to breathe?!

Can we please talk about how powerful Loki is? The fucking most powerful being in the entire multiverse? He practically became the Temporal Loom. He controls everything now, sees everything, protects everything... I still can't wrap my head around this!

It is epic. It is so fucking epic and such an amazing conclusion to his arc. Is it the end? I'm not sure. I don't want to think so. There's gonna be a multiversal war, there's gonna be Kang Variants...

We saw purple light when Renslayer woke up in the Void and I'm sure as hell that was a Kang Variant who came to pick her up. So she's gonna make another appearance for sure. So I am 100% sure this is not the last we've seen of Loki or Sylvie or Mobius. There's gonna be more, I'm sure of it.

But it was epic. Epic, epic, epic. I loved it so much. When that throne turned golden and he sat down on it, I lost it. That last scene where he smirked? THE MUSIC? The fact that his cape turned into fucking time branches?!

I have so many damn questions still. Will he be there forever? Will he be alone? Loki said that he's afraid of being alone... and now he is and that is so fucking tragic and heartbreaking. Is that the true sacrifice? The true act of heroism here, the Loki lesson to be learned? Is that how it has to be for the rest of his existence? He doesn't deserve to be alone even if this was the most selfless thing of him to do. Selfless. Loki. Beyond him saving his family I never thought I'd write something like this. Gods, damn it. And what will happen once the multiversal war breaks out which, inevitably, it will?!

Guys... let's do a group hug. I think we all need it after this epic finale.

EDIT: I forgot to mention how epic I thought the Yggdrasil reference was. I immediately cried out Yggdrasil when I saw it!

#loki #loki season 2 #loki season 2 finale #tom hiddleston #loki spoilers #loki season 2 spoilers

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throwaway-yandere · 2 years

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Worksheets (Yandere!Alhaitham/Reader)

A/n: What's this, Ansy? Planning on two Alhaitham fics??? Are you not loyal to Dain or Ayat– Speak not, my comrade. Don't tell me that the new Archon Quest wasn't delectable lmao. Also, today was the first time I got a tip, and I??? I've never known happiness quite like that. I'm crying. I will remember you forever, "mommy milkers", I'll dedicate this fic to you ;;-;; (I'm pretty sure I know who you are "*chomp* *chomp*" but that name is entertaining lmao.) On another note, kinda loved how this fic turned out and this is prolly the closest thing I'll ever write to a "lime" lmao.

Unreliable Synopsis: (Student!Alhaitham era) Studying 20 languages is quite an exhausting task. It's a great thing Alhaitham is eager to help his "study buddy".

Cw: yandere themes, implied drugging and non/dubcon. Please don't read this if you're sensitive to the content mentioned. Your mental health matters.

—--------

Alhaitham, like you, is not the type to strike up an amusing discussion while he has a book in his hands. So he laid down his book and decided to take yours as well.

As Akademiya students, you are both bound by a single, exhausting clearance requirement: master 20 languages before graduation. So far, you think you're passable at best on writing romanized Inazuman script and laughable at worst on pronouncing proper Liyue intonations. You can already count yourself as one of the many students that won't see the light of employment next year, but Alhaitham won't let you sulk so readily.

"Time's up. You're done, right?"

He slid the textbook off the table and began flipping through your work.

You didn't reply. Instead, you felt the weight of your head on both palms. It's not that you're unable to reply. You just don't want to admit how illiterate you are in foreign linguistics.

"(Y/n), look at me when I'm speaking."

"I accept my fate." You muttered, soundly defeated. And then, you let yourself rest on the table. "Here lies (Y/n) (L/n). May they finally learn how to pronounce 印 properly in the afterlife."

Alhaitham rolled his eyes.

"Should I help send you off to Aaru Village? Want a proper goodbye from your old study buddy?"

"That would be quite nice, yes."

"Sure. I'll be happy to do that." He stopped flipping through the pages and focused all his attention on you. "If you started acting hysterical and destructive. But you're not. You're just miserable and reserved."

"Thanks for that wonderful assessment, Professor Alhaitham. I'm sure studying neurophilosophy helped you come up with that conclusion. Oh, your brilliance never ceases to surprise me!"

Alhaitham chuckled. His chuckles are almost always short-lived and 100% condescending.

"(Y/n), language is simply not your forte. But you do wonders in mathematics since we are almost on the same level."

You glared, finally meeting his gaze.

"Must you always brag about yourself whenever you try to cheer me up?"

"Hmm?"

"Lord Kusanali– don't tell me you haven't noticed that about yourself…"

He lightly smacked your head with your textbook. You winced, exaggerating your pain.

"Our conversation isn't about me, it's you. Now, enlighten me, how on earth did you manage to mistake Snezhnayan scripts in a Liyue assignment?"

"E-Eh?!"

You snatched your book back.

"Holy shit. You're right."

You may not like beer, the first time you drank one it tasted funny, but at that moment you decided that once exams are over you're going to get completely inebriated.

Alhaitham watched you reread your work and fondly memorized the way your eyebrows knitted and your eyes skimming through the pages. Your fingers gripped that book as if your life depended on it. That might as well be true knowing your passion for your degree, but he simply wished you will spare part of that zeal for him.

He used to study alone until you showed up. Freshman year was brutal and unkind, but when you insisted on becoming his partner the world had taken on a vibrant hue. Alhaitham never asked for a partner, but your proposal was enticing that he had to say yes. He lied and said he merely wanted to see where this would lead him before, but now he is proud to say he did not regret that decision. It's a shame that your persuasive techniques do not work well with complex Liyue scripts, if they did you would've aced these tests.

"Ugghhh... I hope I get buried raw so I wouldn't have to worry about funeral expenses too..."

Alhaitham did not mind that he's helping you work on your quote-unquote "bane of existence." Students at the Akademiya sometimes fear group work, but he's not one of them. He hopes for one in each subject should it entail that you'll be beside him. Should the assignment be on a frost-prickling mountain, he still wouldn't hesitate to tag along if it meant sharing his cloak and warmth with you. Alhaitham doubts he cares about any other factors. As a friend and intellectual collaborator, you've become irreplaceable.

That's why he won't let you fall behind.

"Chin up." He patted your head like you would a cat.

"H-Huh?"

"I said chin up," Alhaitham spoke, uncharacteristically soft. "I'll be right here beside you until we graduate."

You smiled, not at all comforted but grateful for the gesture. You sat up straight. "Thanks, Haitham."

When given the option to either comfort or critique, Alhaitham doesn't hesitate to choose the latter. This small moment made you happy. Back then, he used to be rather cold and skilled at getting you off his life. You subconsciously began to grin. Your friend Lisa was right, he softens when he's with you–

"Which is why I'll be sending you additional practice sheets for you to work on," Alhaitham added bluntly, his words dropping like a hammer. "I'm not letting you play games until you perfect writing these scripts."

Your eyes stared coldly back at him.

Nevermind. Forget it. He's the same as he had always been.

"Way to ruin the moment, Future Grand Scribe."

—----

Three days have passed and it's the last day of your dreaded linguistics exams.

Well, that sounds more significant than what it is. It's the last day of ALHAITHAM'S MOCK EXAMS, which is what it actually is, but you can't help but feel nervous as you would in a real graded performance. He takes practice exercises and their punishments very seriously. Last time was just a surprise quiz, so the intensity differed greatly.

Alhaitham took a seat at an adjacent table. He was amusingly dressed in a pair of glasses and an Akademiya professor uniform. You'd mock him for believing in you when you claimed you wanted the exam to be as immersive as possible, but his execution is far too effective for your liking. For crying out loud, he even received the alchemy professor's signed permission to borrow his room!

"For your last test, you need to translate this Liyue text back to Sumeru scripts. I'll give you… 30 minutes for this." He said, adjusting his timer.

Alhaitham cast a sidelong glance at you, pretending not to see your apprehension. His fingers lingered over the reset and split buttons.

"Are you ready?"

You felt your palms beginning to sweat.

"S-Sure."

He didn't care what your answer was– no professor would ever wait for a student. Alhaitham flipped the test paper to its front page.

"Timer starts now."

Nervously, you picked up your pen and paper and started reading. Alhaitham left the timer on top of the table and went back to drinking his cup.

Alright, here we go.

Decoding it was simple, at first. The start felt like a canned script for a traditional romantic light novel. You translated the messages back to your native tongue. Then, things started to become a bit complicated.

'I've decided to be entirely honest and truthful in this letter, so I'll start from the very beginning. I used to despise you.'

Your nose scrunched, amused. What an introduction. You pointed your pen in his direction.

"Is our friendship over, Haitham?"

He glared. "Quit talking. 29 minutes and 38 seconds–"

"Alright, alright. Geez."

'But you were so relentless that I couldn't help but cave in. Who wouldn't? You're personable and you share my beliefs about research autonomy. It's difficult to find someone who is an expert at both. You'd know that best.'

'It's pitiful that I can't handle the notion of losing you once this is finished. Many people do not consider me to be empathic and they frequently misinterpret my lack of emotional expression as a lack of empathy. But you've always been so accepting of me.'

'It's a shame that you left me when morning came. I've never felt solitude quite like that wake-up call.'

You grimaced as you continued to read the rest of the paragraphs. Whoever wrote this must be seriously lovelorn and obsessed because they wrote as if they've hopelessly known that their affections will remain unreciprocated beyond half a decade.

The author went on to describe how they had watched their beloved enjoy their life blissfully ignorant of the misery they had caused him. Given that Alhaitham creates everything by hand, the stark contrast between the material and his precise letterings does nothing to express the writer's frantic confession.

'I can't get the thought of you out of my mind. It's exhilarating. I've never been this stimulated before I met you.'

'I need you, even after our partnership is over.'

You can't get over how, in Alhaitham's fine handwriting, the author gradually spiraled from unrequited love to an obsession that can't be helped.

'You have qualities that no one else possesses. Traits that I want in a lifelong companion. You taught me things I didn't know I wanted for myself. And you are on top of that list.'

'As you're probably aware, you do have a guardian angel. I sometimes answer your assignments for you. Every morning, I pay for your coffee and leave sticky notes in case you overlook your deadlines. These are all unpaid acts of kindness, but they make me feel like I'm laying a better foundation for a relationship with you.'

'I admit, I don't mind following you around like an affectionate dog every now and then. Your schedule is predictable. You even handed me a duplicate with your new phone number on it. It's both pleasant and difficult for me to watch you from a distance, but what else can I do? Everyone knows I'm rather socially inept for this to play out as smoothly as I'd hope so I had to stoop to this method.'

'At least I learned not to break doors this time."

'Once we both graduate, I might not be able to see you again in my life. We will no longer work together as much as we did before. I wouldn't be able to see you laugh or make excuses just to touch you. I like being near you. Even if you consider me as a one-night stand. Even if you consider me as your biggest mistake.'

You looked at Alhaitham with a face that ridiculed his choice of picking this creepy excerpt. He didn't so much as move and continued sitting at the table, staring at you robotically calm.

You hope this Liyue person has already been apprehended by the Millelith.

You resumed deciphering after deciding to trust whatever bizarre letter Alhaitham had assigned to you. You were beginning to feel sorry for the person Alhaitham obtained the love letter from and its intended recipient... You wouldn't be astonished if Alhaitham pulled this letter from the hands of a mad scholar and deemed it a worthy linguistics exercise.

'You're mine and you will learn to love me. I've already decided on that.'

'I'm sure that declaration is bound to scare you, but I genuinely meant it. I can understand if you react violently. I wouldn't hate you if you tried to contact the authorities, but just know that eremites are useless against me.'

You scowled. Perhaps your study companion wanted you to be wholly aware that translating is not an easy task. If so, you're impressed by his dedication. You'd never read a letter like this again.

Then it got worse.

'That's why I need to take control again.'

'I need you to open your eyes– I need you to know that without me, you cannot survive in a world beyond academics.'

'You need me just as much as I need you, too.'

'So when will you invite me back to Dorm 569?'

You stopped reading and you felt the clip of your pen snap.

Slowly, you turned the paper to its back. Your eyes were glued to the table, unable to look at your study partner's face.

"Alhaitham…" You laughed sheepishly. "Do… Do you have to go above and beyond writing such a… personal sounding example? You know, the Akademiya doesn't allow plagiarism—especially when it's a creepy love letter."

Being batch-mates with Alhaitham, you're well aware of his eccentricities. And being batch-mates with you helps him pretend that there's nothing creepy about knowing a few minor details too.

But this is… is not one of them.

Alhaitham placed his mug down and began to peek through your worksheets behind you.

"Five minutes left, I'm guessing you're on the last paragraph?" He spoke as if your concerns were nonexistent.

"Of course I'm on the damn last paragraph!!!"

You immediately covered your mouth, looking around the room if you had disturbed others, before being staunchly reminded that you are alone. With him.

It's like reading a horror story at home alone on the weekends. The setting is safe, you trust Alhaitham, but your heart is restless.

Dorm 569.

It's your dorm number but it's not an innocent suggestion if– when it comes from him. The implication was sinister and cruel. There is a historical context that vastly changes the flow of this conversation. A context that you don't want to address plainly.

"This is just a joke, right?" You gulped dryly. Despite your treacherous nerves, you made a joke. "You're not stalking me, are you?"

He raised an eyebrow.

Alhaitham steadily reduced the gap between you two by holding your chair with both hands. Before you could realize it, he had already closed off all means of escape. You felt his breathing brush against you. Every inch of your body begged for a sprint as his green-orange eyes peered through your soul, calculating as they had always been.

You need to leave.

"You're going to brush off the rest of what you've read and focus on such a minor detail? You're not going to ask if I have feelings for you like a normal person?"

His breath smelled like coffee.

"I would if this fucking letter sounded anywhere close to normal!" You yell-whispered.

You combed your hair back with your fingers, feeling your entire body shaken by his implied agreement.

"Shit, Alhaitham… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell your ears out– I'm just a bit…" You laughed, sinking your weight on the chair's cross rail but he inched closer, maintaining the distance you had before. "Moved? I'm so bad at vocab, is that the word? Yeah, moved by that love letter, I suppose."

"Don't be sarcastic. You're frightened."

You scoffed.

"D-Duh, making jokes is a coping mechanism. Something you wouldn't relate to, I know."

He didn't move from his position.

You breathed in sharply. "What?"

"You still haven't asked."

"Asked what?"

"If I like you romantically."

"W-Well, you still haven't answered me either."

"Answered what?"

"... Is it true? Are you stalking me?"

He did not hesitate to answer. "In a sense, yes."

What…?

Your stomach flipped at his nonchalant reply. He tilted your chin up. The short distance between you two began to diminish as you felt Alhaitham's hair against your cheek.

"How else would I know your dorm number if I didn't, right?"

You slapped his hand away. "You know what I meant. This isn't funny at all. Please answer me seriously."

"I thought you think of me as a guardian angel. You wanted the truth and I gave you my thoughts." Alhaitham pressed.

You don't want to believe it.

You don't want to acknowledge that it was someone you trusted who forced you to bed.

"I am stalking you. Tell me– who else would've fucked you senseless that night? Go on, tell me, (Y/n)."

But you knew deep down that it was him.

You shoved him off, but he was stronger than you are. You've seen him in action, he did not lie when fighting eremites are child's play to him. You're his study partner, and you, unfortunately, know him best as he stated in that letter.

Dorm 569. That night was a blur and you've changed rooms since then. Another student, Soraya, began living in your old room. You couldn't bear to visit and see how the freshman was doing.

You never actively seek parties, and Alhaitham was the same. But one night, you both decided to finally experience the infamous "college life" by attending one. Your brain refused to unfold everything that transpired. Pieces of your conversations occasionally resurface, but they're all mundane yet bitter. Retracing your steps had a major discrepancy from drinking beer to waking up in your dorm with a broken door.

Nothing explained why your study partner was naked beside you, lovingly caressing your hair.

"Were you fantasizing about another man? One of our seniors, perhaps? Are you one of those people who get off on unbalanced relationship dynamics?"

There was no explanation as to why you woke up screaming.

And there were no words spoken about it the next time you bumped into each other.

He never mentioned it again.

And you foolishly thought that was the end of it.

"S-Stop…"

"If not our old seniors… Was it our Ethics professor?"

Your heart dropped.

Alhaitham laughed. His usually calm green-orange eyes that soothed you swirled with what you assumed was jealousy and self-loathing. Two emotions you have not seen before, or at least, did not acknowledge.

You both knew you were scared to face reality. But he doesn't want to play these mind games any longer. Alhaitham already decided on it. You will recall everything.

His grip on your chin tightened.

"It's him, correct? I won't forget the way you moaned 'Sir' when I pulled your hair. If I wasn't confident, I wouldn't be wearing this stupid pair of glasses and uniform just to woo you."

You could no longer speak. Alhaitham took it as permission to do anything he wants with you. Just like that night.

His lengthy fingers pinched your inner thigh.

"Then again, I don't think I can keep acting like him. Spiking a drink would be in his list of unforgivable actions I'm sure."

You trembled.

"Still won't answer, (Y/n)? Or would you prefer I call you Mx. (L/n)?"

Alhaitham scoffed, grinning.

"You don't have to answer. We have the classroom all to ourselves to test that hypothesis."

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