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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 months

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Habit ~ E.O.

A/n: This felt the way eating something for the first time in a longen time when you are it a lot as a kid? Does that make sense? Idk I just love it

Request: “...Enoch O’Connor x Male I beg of thee” by anon

Word count: 2200+

MASTERLIST

Jake was the most annoying person Y/n had ever met.

The problem with a boy shaking the very core of the way Miss Peregrine's Home worked, is that there was a set routine. Not just the same day, every day. Not just the same clothes. Not just the same activities and expectations, but also the same people. The same dynamics. Everything was clear and simple and predictable - as it was supposed to be. It was Enoch and Horace and Olive and Fiona and Claire and Emma and Millard and Bronwyn and Hugh and the twins and Y/n. They all had their chores, their meals, and their rooms. Wake up, do the exact same thing, reset the day, go to bed.

In some ways, Jake changing everything was nice. Emma was happier with him, and they were safer now. They'd always be safe now. Miss Peregrine didn't have to deal with her imperfect day, and they had lots of new friends.

Change was hard though, and unpredictable. Emma and Jake, and then Fiona and Hugh. And then suddenly everyone was a lot less okay with Enoch and Y/n pining for each other but never doing anything about it.

Enoch and Y/n had always been like this. They avoided each other despite everything, somehow having pulled it off for decades straight now. Anytime they did talk, the room seemed to go still. They were insatiable, starving for each other. Every look was too long, and yet too short. Every conversation saturated with so much emotion neither boy could handle it.

Being a teenager was hard.

But for decades, everyone had left it alone. At some point the distance and awkwardness and desperate yearning had become a part of the routine. Wake up, do what you did everyday, glance over the way Y/n's breath caught, a smile tugging to his face when Enoch brought something to life, ignore the way Enoch's eyes lingered when Y/n began to chat with a bird or squirrel or worm.

Even Fiona was good at it, and she was Y/n's sister. They had always been far more concerned with their own relationship as siblings. Two halves of one whole - a plant gift and an animal gift. Flora and fauna.

But now she was busy with her own crush, and without her there to fill Y/n's time, it was more and more obvious how ridiculously in love he was. Olive had met a girl in the other loop they'd joined who had wings, and the two had been having a ball flying around together - which meant Enoch was more available than normal as well.

Of course they ended up in the same space more often than they usually did.

The new kids weren't used to the pining. It wasn't routine, they hadn't learned to ignore it. And the more they pointed out that the way Enoch and Y/n acted wasn't a just-friends-and-family feelings kind of situation, the more the other kids acknowledged it too. Suddenly everyone was looking at the boys expectantly, and with all those eyes on them... it was hard to ignore their own situation even more.

This was especially hard on Y/n. He had always known he wasn't going to end up with some epic love like in the books. Even before the loop, everyone had marked him as insane and weird. His little sister could make flowers grow in the palm of her hand, and her older brother knew all the town secrets because the pets could talk to him. But after the loop? The options were so limited and he was gay - it wasn't going to happen. No way in hell that with one person he could even possibly end up with, who he liked, liked him back. That sort of thing was difficult to find even with several options. But one?

Not to mentioned he hadn't really come to terms with the fact that he wasn't straight. Everyone knew he was into Enoch, but outside of that they had no idea what was going on with his sexuality. He'd never opened up about it, and flat out denied anytime someone had asked. Even Fiona had nothing to offer in terms of information - he hadn't told her anything either. Which was weird, because they knew a lot about each other. She was his confidante.

He'd never even admitted it to himself.

That wasn't good enough for Leroy and Sofie though. They were two of the kids from the other loop, and they were determined to play match maker between the two boys. It was how a harmless game night had gone so terribly wrong. They had convinced Jake to talk about all the silly, immature party games he had heard of and to "experience the culture they were missing out on" all the kids from both loops had been dragged into several different rounds of truth and dare and spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven. Nothing happened for most of the people, who only fist bumped or took the opportunity to info dump in a space where the other person had no option to listen.

And then Enoch and Y/n got picked.

For the first ten minutes, both boys were completely composed. But Enoch had a very good understanding of time and as more than seven minutes passed, he grew agitated. "It's been long enough, let us out," he called.

When all that came back from the other side was giggling, Y/n got irritated too. Being this close to Enoch was bad enough without there being a foreseeable end in sight. "Guys. Guys!"

"Talk about your feelings!" Sofie called back, and a dozen pairs of feet could be heard on the stairs, leaving Enoch and Y/n. In a closet. Locked for who knows how long. Alone in an entire room, in the basement.

Miss Peregrine would put it together and come and get them before dinner, but... even that was a long way away.

It was quiet a long time, but eventually even Enoch couldn't handle it. He broke first.

"Are we just going to wait for Miss Peregrine?"

Y/n shrugged. "They all left, so... It's not like even if I did anything here they'd let us out."

"Did anything?" Enoch scoffed. "Did what exactly."

"I don't know," Y/n snapped. Both boys were rather hot headed and tended to interact with each other through biting remarks and snarky banter. These snippy words were familiar to them.

Enoch rolled his eyes. "I'm not just going to sit here that whole time. At least tell me what they think we need to share feelings about?"

Y/n shrugged. "Beats me."

Another king quiet and then Enoch seemed to soften. He had changed a lot since Jake too. He had been so defensive of Emma before, but now he saw the flaw in that. Emma and Jake were happy, and more than anything he... envied them. He wanted that. And he had wasted enough time keeping himself from it. If Emma could open her heart to getting broke to risk love and succeed... maybe he could too. "Y/n."

"What?" He was gorgeous. That withering look and unwavering attitude. Enoch loved that he could always keep up, matching any sass off or sarcastic comment. Often beating Enoch at what he had always considered as his own private game. A game he never lost at... until Y/n. Y/n who found his homunculus fascinating instead of disturbing and never scared at even the worst of Enoch's attempts. Y/n who was so awkward and brash with people, but so gentle and calm and caring toward animals. Y/n, who was his best self out in the woods with no shoes on and a smile on his face as he closed his eyes and listened to the wind through the trees, the birds singing, the bugs buzzing...

"Do you want to play Twenty Questions?" It was another of Jake's silly games. They had planned to play it after Seven Minutes in Heaven but, well, now they were locked in a closet.

Y/n shot him a withering look, cocking an eyebrow. "No."

Enoch's lips almost twitched into a smile. "Come on. Since when are you more of a buzz kill than I am?"

Y/n sighed. "Fine. Whatever." He looked at Enoch again and couldn't help but soften. They were both like this. Hard to touch, impossible to get close to. Rough and snappy. Except for those select few. For Enoch, it was the girls. Fiona and Claire had it the easiest; Olive had to work for it; Emma had gotten under his skin after Abe. For Y/n, there was no one who had worked their way into his good graces as well as Enoch had. He of course had softness for the kids, always taking to children who needed someone to have their back - even if they wouldn't admit it - but Enoch was still special. He always was.

Enoch swallowed a smile, matching Y/n's casual energy. They both leaned against the wall, Y/n crossing his arms over his chest and Enoch slipping his hands in his pocket. "You go first," Enoch encouraged. There was something playing in his eyes, so bright it shone even in the low lighting.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, unsure. "Okay... what's your favorite color?" It was a dumb question - he already knew - which meant that if Y/n wasn't going to try neither was Enoch.

"Triangle." He smirked, then leaned forward. "Do you like men?"

There was a long silence in the closet. It felt... horribly fitting. Suffocatingly on point. "Why do you ask?"

"That's not an answer," he shot back.

Y/n's face burned. "That's a dumb question! You've never cared once in our decades of friendship and now you do? Why?"

"Because of Jake." Y/n almost began going off about how annoying Jake was, but Enoch cut him off. "I thought everything was set in stone. He were the group we'd always been. Abe proved it to me. We can get smaller, but never bigger. But then Jake came along and left behind everything for Emma. And I realized, maybe that's what love is. Maybe it's giving up what was for what could be. Because it's worth it. And if I made a leap like that, I won't even have to give anything up. All I have to do is take the first step."

His voice was so soothing, but his words were like shots of ice through Y/n's veins. It was a startling contrast. "Enoch..." He frowned, pursing his lips. He couldn't look at the other boy. "What would you do if I asked you that? You can't expect me to-"

"I do. I like men."

Y/n's jaw dropped. He snapped it closed after a beat, eyes trained on Enoch. The other boy seemed... excited. Genuinely. "And you're telling me this... for a reason. I assume?" Enoch just nodded. He wasn't just excited; he was nervous too. To be fair, so was Y/n. "Because you like me?" He asked, even more softly.

Enoch hesitated. Then nodded. "I... have. For a long time."

Y/n sighed, head falling back against the wall. A part of him wanted to argue, wanted to fight it. Wanted to stick his head in the sand.

But a much larger part of him knew that this had been coming for a long time.

“I thought when I told you I was into men it would be scarier.” Enoch laughed at Y/n’s confession, and it was only a split second before Y/n joined him. It was completely bizarre and borderline ridiculous. They’d been denying their feelings so long it had become habit. First out of hesitation. You never know exactly how someone would react to something. And then it was friendship. They were so close, and they’d gotten into a pattern of thought. They were only friends - nothing else was possible. But as everything around them changed, pattern had no room in their life anymore. So habit had taken over.

And now…

Y/n rested his head on Enoch’s shoulder, hesitantly taking his hand. Enoch sighed, squeezing back. Reassuring him.

“I like you specifically,” Y/n piped up.

Enoch’s smile was small as he tried to fight it, but the blush across his cheeks gave him away. “I like you too.” Y/n chuckled again, and Enoch echoed him. Like their energy was bouncing off of each other, growing. Becoming simply by the existence of the other.

“I don’t want our first kiss to be in here,” Enoch sighed. The closet was too much a metaphor, but even more-

“I don’t like that everyone’s forced so much onto us,” Y/n agreed. “Thank god they did, but-“

Enoch huffed with amusement. “But I don’t want them to have everything. Some things are just for you and me?” Y/n nodded and Enoch smiled, leaning close and pressing his lips to Y/n’s forehead. Y/n sighed, content. They stayed like that until the close door was opened, several pairs of curious eyes staring in at them.

“Are you together now?”

Y/n and Enoch exchanged looks and then scrambled to their feet, both shouldering the door open and slipping out. Everyone was laughing - even the ones who tried desperately to lock the pair back in the room.

And so the boys were out of the closet.

They took each others’ hand again when they settled onto the couch together, an everyone had to agree: that could be enough.

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maeby-bby · 1 year

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You Fluster Me

Enoch O'Connor x Reader Genre: Fluff Word Count: 1739 A/N: This may be a bit out of character for Enoch but it's an idea I've had in my head for a while now! Reader has a teleportation peculiarity. Reminder requests are open if you want something for the holidays!

You confused Enoch ever since you entered the loop. You were kind to everyone, no matter if they were being rude to you. You were even kind to him, though he never gave you the time of day to begin with. Enoch was intrigued by you entirely and wanted to find ways to talk to you. He would even ask Olive about your interests so he would know what to talk about when he finally got the chance to do so. He was certain he would someday talk to you without messing up.

He didn’t expect it to happen sooner rather than later.

It started in the library when he was going to grab new hearts he had jarred. He had walked past it but did a double take when he saw something moving quickly around the room.

You were teleporting around the shelves, looking all over the books and reading their titles. Your eyebrows furrowed in frustration as you tried to find the book you were looking for. Stopping the teleportation, you looked up at the book you wanted. It was on the very top shelf, not where you had found it the last time you came to the small library. You reached up to grab it but it was just too high for you to reach. You tried different ways, trying to magically stretch your arms just a little bit higher, but to no use. Sighing, you turned around ready to ask Emma if she could possibly help you get the book, but was stopped when you noticed someone standing in the doorway.

“Enoch?”

He stood there wordlessly, his usual blank expression on his face. He looked at you as you said his name, raising his eyebrows a bit at your words. With no expression], he walked over to the shelves you were zipping around earlier. He grabbed the book you were trying to get easily and held it out toward you so you could grab it.

You slowly reached out and took the book from him, looking at the cover.

“Thanks, Enoch! I was going to ask Emma to get it for me, lucky for me you were closer!”

Enoch’s expression didn’t seem to change, as he nodded in acknowledgment and started back to the jarred hearts, pretending that the sudden conversation didn’t affect him. When he reached his room again he could feel his face had turned hot. He hurried back into his work, ignoring Olive’s teasing when she came to his room after hearing what he did for you.

A week or so later after the library incident, Enoch found himself being around you again as Claire wanted both of you to walk with her during the daily walk. She walked in between the two of you, holding each of your hands in hers. Bronwyn had also joined the group, talking to Claire about what games to play when they reached the house again.

“What about hide and seek?” Bronwyn suggested.

“We played that yesterday!” Claire countered.

“Tag?”

“I’m too tired for that!”

“Well then what do you want to play?” Bronwyn asked, giving up on her ideas.

“We should have a tea party!” Claire said excitedly. “We can have our friends join us! You’ll join our tea party won’t you?” She pulled on Enoch’s hand, then yours, getting both of your attention on her.

“Of course, we will honey,” you said with a smile. You looked to Enoch for him to say something, but he was staring at you with his mouth open like his words were caught in his throat. Claire turned her head towards him to see what he would say. He looked down at her, then nodded, turning to look back at the group of peculiars.

Claire and Bronwyn continued to talk about the tea party, asking you questions about how it was going to be set up.

After the walk, you helped Bronwyn set up the tea party, bringing blankets and the teacups to the backyard under the tree. Teleporting in and out of the house, you made sure that the young peculiars had everything they needed before making your way to Enoch’s room to fetch him.

You teleported to the stairs, walking up them nervously. Enoch never really seemed to like you, no matter how hard you tried to be nice to him. Olive reassured you that Enoch just needed some time to get to know you and trust you before he could talk to you the way he does with her.

Reaching his door you raised your hand and knocked. You were met with silence, not even a sound that indicated he was in there.

“The girls are ready to play tea party. Come down when you’re ready.” You said, turning around to teleport back to the girls.

Before you could, you heard the door behind you open up. You looked to see Enoch stepping out and closing the door, keeping his head down as he walked past you. He walked down the hall and towards the stairs, eyes trained on the floor. You watched him go before teleporting just outside the back door, opening it for Enoch once he came down the stairs.

Sitting on the blankets, you and Enoch watched as Claire and Bronwyn poured the tea into teacups and lectured on tea party etiquette. You both accepted the tea from the girls and talked amongst each other until dinner, where Enoch stayed behind to help you take the teapot and cups back into the house.

That night, you told Emma about how Enoch talked to you and helped you take the tea set back into the house. You had even gotten him to crack a smile a couple of times! Over in Enoch’s room, Olive was hearing Enoch’s side of the story. He was telling her how amazing he thought you were, how good you were with the younger peculiars, and how he didn’t mess up talking to you that afternoon.

Over the next couple of days, both you and Enoch started to seek each other out more. Enoch invited you to watch him work on his dolls in his room and you invited him to read with you in the library. You even had some deep conversations about your respective peculiarities, and how it would’ve been to live a normal life without being a peculiar. The two of you had built a nice friendship together, even with Enoch messing up a couple of times with how he worded things.

But Enoch couldn't shake of the feelings he had developed for you. He had knew he liked you a little bit before you officially started to talk to each other, but now knowing you the way he does, he knew he wouldn't be able to hid it. Confiding with Olive on it, he decided he needed to tell you before he made a fool of himself.

The next day, Enoch walked outside looking for you. Hidden behind his back was a small bouquet of flowers he had picked for you. Seeing you lying under the shade of a tree, he made his way over to where you were.

When he got there, he quietly laid down next to you keeping the flowers hidden at his side. He was sure you had heard him walking up, but part of him thought you were asleep.

You were taking in the loop's ambiance when you heard Enoch walk towards you. You had peaked through your eyelashes to confirm it was the quiet peculiar.

The two of you lay in silence for a couple minutes, enjoying the company and the ambiance of the others playing or doing their chores. You turned your head to Enoch, opening your eyes.

"So what brings you out of your dark room today?" You asked.

"...You."

"Me? I hope I didn't look too lonely out here that you would take pity on me."

'No, it's not that. I needed to talk to you actually." Enoch explained, starting to sit up.

Following his movements, you sat facing each other, a confused look on your face as you tried to think of something you did that would prompt Enoch to have a serious talk with you.

Enoch revealed the flowers, holding them out for you to take them. "I just wanted to have a talk because...you fluster me, okay? I can't even think straight when you're around, and I find myself being a nicer person because of you. You're kind, attractive, and smart, and I just can't help myself but like you. More than just a friend. And I hope this doesn't change anything between us if you don't feel the same way. But I needed to get it out before I made an absolute fool out of myself keeping it in."

You sat shocked at his words. All this time, he actually liked you? But was too scared to make a move? You took the flowers from him with a smile.

"You know, you have a dimple on your left cheek that shows when you laugh, and every time I saw you I tried to get you to laugh because I thought it was cute."

"So...you think I'm cute?" he questioned.

"I think you're intimidating. But after getting to know you, yes, I do think you're cute. And I would be lying if I said I didn't like you too."

"Really?"

"Yes. Poor Emma has had to hear all of it the entire time."

"Poor Olive has been hearing it from me too I'm afraid."

You shared a laugh together, cheeks tinted pink with a blush.

"Well, I have to get back to my chores, meet you in your room when I'm done?" You asked, starting to stand up.

"Yeah! Yeah, that's completely fine. I'll leave the door open for you." Enoch answered, standing up as well.

"Thanks for the flowers as well, they're very pretty. I'll see you after my chores are done!" You walked up to Enoch and gave him a quick hug, planting a kiss on his cheek before taking a couple steps and teleporting to do your chores.

Enoch stood there, replaying what happened in his head. He raised his hand and put it on his cheek where you had kissed him. Giving a little chuckle, he turned and started his walk back to his room, waiting for you to be done with your chores for the day.

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buttercream-princess · 1 year

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Playing The Game

Summary: Y/K and Dean have been secretly enjoying a friends-with-benefits arrangement for some time now, relishing in the pleasure and excitement that it brings. But when Dean unexpectedly reveals his feelings about someone else while under the influence, Y/K is left reeling and wondering where their relationship truly stands. Y/K must decipher between her newfound emotions and unspoken desires what she really wants: lust or love?

Word Count: 9k

Warnings: Whole lotta’ ANGST, little bit of fluff, swearing, sexual objectification kink, SMUTTY AF, unprotected sex, quickie, public sex, unholy dirty talk, NSFW, interactive

DISCLAIMER: Every original Harry Potter characters in this story is 21+. My Hogwarts stories are always and only written as a university universe with grown ass characters.

Notes: This one has been sitting in the drafts for awhile. I’m thinking of turning it into a 5 part series because I’m too attached to this Dean at this point (Just like Y/K lol) - he’s so cheeky, I love it!

*Gifs and images were not created by and do not belong to me. All rights go to owners and creators!!

(Not edited | proof-read)

_______________________

You sleepily reach for your phone underneath your pillows and sit up against the bed frame.

You check your notifications; still no text from Dean.

Tired and irritated, you let out a groan of frustration and slump back underneath your covers. All you could think was how much you missed him, it was an unfamiliar feeling borderlining on uncomfortable. You never ached for a response from him, since you always had access to him. You were each other's person, but that now seemed called off. It felt almost unfair how easily he was going on with life without you.

It was a long night of tossing and turning, you were unable to get any sleep. Once the birds began their routine songs at dawn, you knew there was no point in trying to get some shut eye, class begins in a few hours.

You couldn’t even think about studying today, you were bitter and strung up. It was all his fault. If he just reached out to you, that would’ve put your racing thoughts at bay. At this point, even an emoji text would’ve been fine. But no, he was radio silent.

Your argument aside, Dean ghosting you was so out of character for him. Dean always made sure to check in with you, you guys were basically joined at the hip. You and Dean have been good friends since your first week at Hogwarts University. You took up the Magical Fine Arts class as an elective in the 1st year. It was Dean who asked you to be his model for the end of year project, to which you agreed to and along the way, you found yourself spending more time with him than you were studying. Dean was funny, charming and adventurous, just your kind of fun. It seemed he had a strong liking for you too because over time, the two of you were inseparable; wherever you saw him, you were always by his side and vice versa.

But over the last summer, your relationship with him developed into something more physical. It started platonic and friendly but as the semesters passed, your body couldn’t deny his sex appeal anymore. One night at your studio dorm after 2 and a half bottles of red wine, you were both wasted and bonding over your love of muggle music since the both of you were half-blood. That night you went from bestfriends to lovers in private and there was no looking back.

You both agreed to keep it under wraps in consideration of not rocking the boat that was your friend group with Blaise, Lee and Alicia. The odds of awkwardly tinting the group dynamic with your situationship was too much to take a chance on. So for the sake of secrecy, all emotions and entanglements was off the table. It kept your friendship balanced. It was simple and you liked it that way.

As for Dean in the bedroom, he’s incredibly cocky and is well aware of the power he has over you. Although you’ve never casually talked about your attraction to him, he remembers every moan and moment of begging that left your mouth while he turned you out. He always finds a way to remind you just how needy you are for his dick. Most late nights you’d get a text from him, saying, “Can’t sleep. Come over.” and you already knew what time it was the second you got the notification.

Hooking up with him had become a weekly - almost daily ritual so you didn’t usually approach Dean for sex but by now it had been close to three weeks since your last conversation with him and you were almost feral for his face between your legs. He would never go this long without asking you to come over, it was so unlike him.

There was once a whole month where you couldn’t get off eachother. You’d get a quickie in before and between classes, in any private room you could find in the castle. The astronomy tower, the room of requirement, the House Elves restroom. Even in Filch’s office once, which you left in absolute shambles, even staining his desk with dry cum - from the both of you. It was hysterical when he reported the scene in the great hall during dinner. You and Dean forced back fits of giggles with mouths full of food, knowing it was you two who defiled his office while everyone else in the hall was completely oblivious. Sneaking around with him had its benefits, one of them being you had a massive secret that only you and Dean shared, as if it was an inside joke that only you and your favorite person knew the origin of. You could call it special. Sure, hiding the truth sometimes felt like a burden but most times it felt electrifying.

While Dean was AWOL, something fierce was brewing in you this morning. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself but you were edging on desperation. You were fine with not hearing from him the first couple of days, you figured he was just busy. But once you saw him actively going out his way to dodge you, that was all your mind needed to start jumping to conclusions.

Why was he ghosting you? Did he not wanna hook up anymore? And if so, why?

You blankly stare at your phone while your mind wanders off and pictures all kinds of scenarios for his weird behavior.

You recall the last time the two of you spoke, a late night from a few weeks ago….

________________________________________________________

3 Weeks Ago…

Everyone had just sat the OWLS exams and it was finally done with. This year's OWLS was making up for 40% for your final grade of the semester, the stakes were high. It even ripped Granger a new one. And if Miss Know It All is anxious about a test, you should be terrified. Which of course, everyone was.

Yet somehow you came out the other side of the exam alive, along with your friends, and what better way to celebrate the end of a stressful and anxiety producing test than to get absolutely wasted?

That’s exactly what you and your friends did. Lee and Alicia went off to Hogsmeade bar to celebrate, but you, Dean and Blaise was too tired from a long day of studying to make the trek to town so the three of you shared a bottle of Don Julio in the Griffindor dorm kitchenette. The night was still young and you spent it vibing to music, taking shots and swapping scandalous stories that were only for your friends group ears. It was always good times when you linked with Thomas and Zabini, the three of you were the bestest of bestfriends. You all just naturally clicked with each other and could yarn for hours, which was something worth looking forward to in your day. The night was going good and your stomach was in pain from how much the boys made you laugh, but along the way, the three of you landed on a subject that would change the trajectory of your relationship with Dean…for the better and worse.

“Can we please talk about Fred and Angela? I’ma be all the way real, Fred is punching hardddd man.” Dean exclaims.

Blaise lets out an annoyed moan and perks up from the bench, throwing his hands in the air.

“Finally somebody fucking said it!”

You smirk and raise your glass. Angela Johnson is an etheric goddess walking amongst mere wizards and witches. And Fred is…well, he’s Fred Weasley. Nuff’ said.

“Right?! I’ll bloody drink to that.” You throw back the rest of your mug only to have a few drops hit your tongue. Time for a top up. You scoot off the kitchen top and walk to the fridge, getting some soda to mix with your tequila.

“Look, I love Fred. He’s my best mates brother, Maker bless Ron - the little shit. But how Fred even got a chance with Angie? That’s surely one of Hogwarts greatest mysteries and this school’s packing loads of them cunts.” Dean voices.

You chuckle while fixing yourself a drink, listening in on the boys being messy.

“I’m saying, like? He don’t even know what to do with that, he can’t handle all that.” Blaise says, reeking of jealousy. It was hilarious, you couldn’t hold back the giggles.

“No Weasley can handle a baddie, let alone a black goddess like Angela.” You chime in.

“Exactly. He needs to go for someone like Luna or Pansey, someone in his lane! No offense to them but that’s more Fred’s avenue. Not Angelina Johnson for Merlin's sake!”

You gasp, followed by a chortle. The gossiping behaviour between these two grown ass men was worse than you thought.

“Oh my god Blaise! I know you did not just say that! Not too much on Luna now, that’s my girl. I love that little weirdo.” You insert, jokingly death staring down Zabini. He stares back at you with knitted brows, challenging you. After a few seconds, he blinks and child-like laughter echoes throughout the kitchen from the three of you, laughing at the silly game.

Then Dean loudly clears his throat.

“No but listen, on the topic of Angie…I mean, shiettt, put me in coach. I can handle that.” Dean lowly blurts amongst the laughing.

Silence falls in the room, especially from you. You go mute, processing what he just said.

Blaise snorts.

“I mean you know what I mean? She need someone equipped for the job.”

Blaise daps Dean up in agreement. Both the boys cackle.

Your eyes unintentionally squint and you clench your grip on the bottle of liquor, completely thrown off guard by Dean’s comment. He sure knew how to get a raise out of you. You could hear he was joking, but still, your body reacted on its own accord, knotting up your stomach. You loudly puff out a sigh and plop the bottle back on the bench with a bang.

“Fuck, that was loud. My bad.” You stifly apologize.

“You’re alright.” Dean replies.

“You were saying?” You ask, then clear your throat.

Of course you didn’t want him to. But a sabotaging part of you wanted to see how far he’d take it.

“Look, Angela’s a ten outta ten. Peng as fuck, her body is crazy, and she’s got great banter. I’m first in line when she drops the dead weight that Fred is.”

Wow. He’s playing with fire. You couldn’t believe he’d froth over Angela like that right in front of you. It stinged to say the least.

The two boys cheer glasses and talk more about their thoughts on the couple.

You stir your drink, quietly wheezing to yourself hysterically. Nothing about what Dean said was funny to you, you just couldn’t believe the sheer audacity of him gawking over Angela whilst you were in the room, drunk or not.

Dean glances over to you with the utmost cheeky smirk, cocking up a brow. He was doing it on purpose and it was some kind of emotional torture he wanted to commit to you.

Why was he doing it? What is he getting out of this shit? you thought.

A smug look was locked on his face as he listened to Blaise carry on, but his gaze was focused on you. He watched you closely, seeing if he’d you’d give him any reaction at all, all while stifling back chuckles. Your silent rage of envy was amusing to him it seemed.

As Dean's eyes lingers on you, you feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and anger. You take a deep breath and try to compose yourself. You remind yourself that this is just Dean being his usual flirtatious self and that he probably didn't mean anything by it. But it still hurts and there was no refusing that.

You take a long sip of your drink, trying to distract yourself from the uncomfortable tension in the air. Soon the boys stop talking and you can feel Blaise and Dean's eyes on you, waiting for a response. But you don't give them the satisfaction. Instead, you change the subject.

"Talking about the Twins, did you guys hear about the prank that the twins pulled on Filch last week? Filch went off his head, it was hilarious!"

Blaise and Dean both laugh, relieved that the tension has been broken. They eagerly listen as you recount the details of the prank, and soon enough, everyone is laughing and joking again.

The rest of the night you barely spoke. You chuckled here and there, showing face in front of Blaise. But you were distracted, lost in intrusive thoughts. You couldn’t shake off Dean’s opinions about Angela. You were salty as fuck, so by the time it hit 2AM, you bowed out.

“As much as I’d love to stay up with you guys, I need to sleep. OWLS kicked my ass. I will see you wonderful people tomorrow.” You slide off the bench and grab the Tequila.

“Yeah shit, it’s almost 3. I’ll head too.” Dean checks his phone and stands up.

“Fair. But first, cuddle before bedtime.” Blaise drunkenly pulls you into a tight hug and pecks the top of your head. Blaise is the biggest softy, you had no idea how he was sorted into Slytherin.

“Okayyy mummy. Night Blaisey. Love ya” You tease, squeezing your arms around him.

“Night bub. Love you too.”

You pull away and head for the dorm hallway. The two boys hang back and say their goodbyes. You soon hear Dean catch up behind you, following you to the dorms. It was a quiet stroll to the rooms. There were many things you wanted to say but your pride had a tight muzzle on your mouth.

Dean breaks the silence, “He’s a good one, that Blaise.”

“Yeah, he’s the best. Love him.”

The rest of the way to your room was silent. You pass the corridor to the men’s dorm but he stays on your route, following you to the women's dorms.

You scoff.

If he thinks he’s getting some tonight, he’s got you all the way fucked up. You don’t mention him following you though, you figured you’d pop off at him in the room. And boy, was he in for a storm.

Dean laughs, catching your attitude. But he doesn’t say a word because he knew you wouldn't turn him away, you never do. Usual overconfident Dean behavior.

You were steaming all the way up to your door. Your blood wasn’t boiling, it was burning. You were contemplating blowing your cool and letting him have it right now and here out in the hallway. You couldn’t understand in the moment why he had you so vexed over banter but you didn’t care, you were hurting and he needed to know. But instead of blowing up on him, you decided silence was the best treatment to handle Thomas.

You huff back the emotions that were flooding to the surface, your face was heating up with rage - tears were sure to follow soon. You just needed to get inside your room before you let it all out.

You take your keys out of your jeans pocket to unlock the door and place the key to the hole but it doesn't budge. Your hands were shaking and you were on the verge of crying out of pure frustration. You already had a mountain of unexplainable feelings that was rocking your shit, this stupid key was just the cherry on top. Pursing your lips together, you swallow back the rogue wave emotions on your heart while staying faced to the door. You couldn’t let Dean see just how miserable you were over something so minor and stupid.

He closes in behind you. The warmth of his breath tickles your skin as he bends down and leans his chin in the crook of your neck.

“Give it here you goose.” He chuckles.

Taking the keys out of your hands, he unlocks and opens the door on the first try. You grumble cuss words under your breath. Even when helping you, you couldn’t stand him. Not right now, everything he did irked your soul.

You step into the apartment and head straight to your kitchen cabinet. There was a heavy weight of feelings on your chest and drinking it away was the only option. Yes, you were already drunk, but definitely not drunk enough to forget how crossed up he has you.

You slam open the kitchen cupboard door, grabbing the biggest cup you own and quickly fill it up with the Tequila in your other hand. Dean closes the door behind him and walks over to you.

“Woah there, fairy. I think the only thing you need to be drinking right now is water.”

He grabs the bottle and glass out of your hand, chucks the alcohol in your cup down the kitchen sink and fills it with water from the sink.

“Oh, so now you know what I need?”

He turns his head to you, furrowed in brows and squints his eyes. He studies your face, the way he looks at you makes you feel exposed. He knew what you were poking at, he could read every subliminal between your words.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t want you to wake up with a hangover in the morning.”

A soft friendly smile forms on his lips, which only riles you up more. Can he not read the fucking room?

“Yeah well, maybe I like waking up with hangovers.”

He snorts and turns off the tap, walking back over to you with the glass of water.

“Maybe you do. Looks like I’m learning something new about you everyday, beautiful. Drink this.”

You place your hand on your hip and stare back at him blank in the face. You weren't doing anything he wanted you to do.

“No, you drink it. And choke for all I care.”

You turn on your heels and head to the bathroom with the bottle of Don Julio still in your hand. He chortles, amused.

“Only if you’re the one doing the choking, baby.”

You grunt at his chirpy attitude, absolutely done with how witty he is. Usually you like it, he always says the right things to make you swoon over him, but now it was just ammo to get under your skin.

You turn on the showers, letting it run hot to steam up the room. As you undressed, you couldn’t help but feel stupid for letting Dean get to you. You take a gulp from the bottle.

With every clothing piece you took off, memories of him kissing that part of your body flooded your mind, accompanied by visuals of him doing that to Angela. It was tormenting. You take another sip from the bottle.

You step under the streaming water, letting it wash over your face. Finally, the tears fall. It felt good. You knew you were crying over something so silly but you didn’t want to compartmentalise, the only way you were getting through this was by letting yourself have a sook and feel everything, something you never did when it came to Dean. Feeling anything emotional towards Dean was something you put off limits from the beginning of your situationship with him, it kept your feelings safe in case things got ugly between you two. But now you were feeling the burn of setting that rule in the first place.

As you stood under the hot water, you let your mind wander. You thought about everything that had led up to this moment. You thought about how you and Thomas had started off as friends, and how things had escalated so quickly. You thought about the passion and the intensity that you had shared, and how it had felt like nothing could ever come between the two of you.

But now, as you stood there alone, you realized that things were different. You couldn't ignore the fact that Thomas had been with other people and could be hooking up with other girls right at this moment, and that he might not have been as committed to you as you had thought, even if it was just friends with benefits. You couldn't ignore the feeling of betrayal that had been gnawing at your heart since you had found out how he felt about Angela.

When you began hooking up with Dean, you had no idea it would cause so much pent up frustration and desire in your body. Sex would help release this energy from the system, but there was an emotional side to things that had you questioning everything. Surely after some time, you began to ask yourself:

“Do I have feelings for Dean?”

Just hearing those words in your thoughts made you angry.

“Fuck!” You yell, “What is wrong with you?!” you ask yourself in frustration.

How could you let it get this far? How could you let Dean work his natural love potion on you? You thought you were better than this. Better than all the other girls who fell for his stupid addictive charm.

Three knocks tap on the bathroom door.

“Are you okay?” Dean asks, concern in his voice.

“Yes.” You sniffle.

You see him in the reflection of the bathroom glass, taking off his clothes and shoes, all he was left in was a singlet and boxers. He walks towards you and opens the shower door and leans his arm up against the shower frame. You face towards the shower head, not giving him any form of attention.

“The waters getting out.” You protest.

“I don’t care. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Hmmm.”

He pulls his singlet over his head, tossing it aside and kicks off his briefs, stepping into the shower and closing the door.

Tears were still streaming from your eyes, you stood underneath the flush of the water. You didn’t want to let him see you in tears. A few painful minutes go by and you hesitate to tell him off. Although you were mad with him, you loved sharing showers with him, it was one of the few intimate things that you did with him that wasn’t sex.

You sniffle and clear your croaky throat, it was a dead giveaway.

Dean steps closer under the water, saying a wandless spell to the soap, which placed a dollop of cleanser in his hands. He places both hands on your shoulders, lathering up and covering every inch of your body with the suds.

Dean dials down the water temperature and makes it a sweet warm stream and sways you by your waist from under the water.

He was smooth, even in instances like this. He didn’t need to use spells or charms, he just intuitively had a way with you that always got to your core. He observes you, adjusts his approach and works his magic on you.

“Y’know,” He pulls the hair in front of your face behind your neck and plants a soft kiss on your shoulder, “You’re allowed to tell me when I fuck up.”

“Huh?”

“I know I said something that made you uncomfortable, you can tell me.”

You turn your head to look at him, surprised by his admission. He was usually so confident and self-assured, it was refreshing to see him vulnerable like this.

“I just don’t know what to say,” you admit, feeling ashamed of your own emotions.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he reassures you, “We both can just be silent for all I care. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, always.”

He leans in and kisses you gently on the lips, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. For a moment, you allow yourself to be held, to feel safe in his arms. But then reality hits you like a ton of bricks.

You push him away, suddenly feeling claustrophobic in the small shower space.

“No, you’re not here for me. That’s not what it felt like when we were with Blaise,” you accuse him, the anger rising up in your voice, “You just want to keep me around for when you’re bored or lonely. You don’t actually care about me.” you exclaim, accidentally revealing your resentment.

Dean looks hurt by your words, but he doesn’t back down.

His hand slides up from your thighs to your waist.

“I knew something was wrong. You don’t have to act with me. Just tell me what I did.” He calmly says.

His touch goes over your stomach, just above your nether regions, but he doesn’t go further, Dean knew to be gentle with you in the moment.

“Forget it. I’m just trying to shower.” You say, pulling away from his grasp, retreating back to icing him out

He goes to speak but he pauses, you could see on his face that he was calculating his next words. Lost in his thoughts, he says a spell to the body wash again and goes over his body.

You lean against the shower wall, arms crossed, bottle still in hand and looking up to the ceiling. Tears still falling from your eyes disguised as droplets of shower water.

Dean grabs the bottle from your hold and pulls you into the water with him, tilting your head up to his.

“I wasn’t born yesterday and I know you weren't either, so there’s no point in either of us playing dumb. I’m sorry– please believe me.”

You clench your jaw.

“About what?”

“What I said about Angela. It was stupid. I only said it to get a rise out of you.”

Is this shit a game to him? Your emotions just a ploy for him. And for what? Just so he can feel better about himself? You wanted to hear an apology from him but you didn’t expect it to come with the harsh reality of the situation.

“You’re right, it was stupid. I don’t care though.” You lie through gritted teeth, “What does it matter? You were only speaking your truth.”

“That’s the thing. I wasn't. I was saying all that shit just to get a reaction outta’ you and it was beyond wrong to do that. You don’t deserve that.”

You meet his eyes, he looks completely sincere and open but you quickly look away, feeling a small sob build at the bottom of your throat. The liquor had taken over your emotions and was ready to let it all pour out.

“Why Dean? What's the point?”

“I don’t know. I guess I thought if I said that, you would’ve said something, anything. Maybe I just wanted to hear you claim m—”

“No, Dean. You didn’t hear me. What’s the point of us?”

He stares into both of your eyes, trying to figure you out. Under his gaze, usually you would melt but right now, all you felt was a sense of grief.

“Right…oh, righttt.” He sternly responds.

He loosens his grip on you and tilts his head, squinting his eyes and licks his bottom lip, a grim smile forms on his lips as he starts to sarcastically laugh.

“Oh. Message received.”

He leans down and places his lips on your forehead, chuckling against your skin while giving you a kiss then exiting the shower, taking no time to dry himself with the towel from the rack.

“When you’re done with whatever this is, let me know.”

You stand there, feeling a mix of confusion, anger, and desire all at once. You can hear the sound of the bathroom door closing as Dean leaves, and you're left alone in the shower, still processing everything that just happened.

You take a deep breath and turn off the water, stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel from the rack. You take one last chug of tequila before placing it on the sink. As you dry yourself off, you can't help but feel disappointment. You didn’t know what you wanted. You were torn between giving him the cold shoulder, letting him feel your anger or to give in, let him right his wrongs and lay up in his arms where you wanted to be.

You swipe your hand across the foggy mirror above the bathroom sink and look back at your reflection, red eyes and puffy eyelids from crying. You knew what the reasonable thing to do was but somewhere deep down, you knew this was an internal issue. You longed to be consistently chosen, whether you wanted to admit it or not, it was an inner turmoil that you had and Dean just happened to be the person who you wanted to act on it. It was unfair to him to put him in such a position without him knowing, but you wanted him to just know what you wanted and to provide it instantly. It was selfish of you but you couldn't help it.

The bitter truth stands - he’s wasn’t your boyfriend, you weren’t in a relationship with him and he wasn’t officially yours. How could you possibly ask him to do boyfriend things without actually being your man. Which posed the next question:

“Do I want to be Dean’s girlfriend?”

You wince again at the intimate ideas flooding in. But the wonder stayed with you this time, replaying back memories in your mind of Dean’s beautiful smile before he laces you with kisses all over your face. You wanted that, all the time. You wanted him all the time.

You finish drying off and walk to the bedroom, still lost in your thoughts. As you approach the bedroom door you see Dean sitting on the edge of your bed, scrolling through his phone.

He looks up as you enter the room, and his expression softens. "Hey," he says, patting the seat next to him. "Come sit."

You hesitate for a moment before taking a seat next to him. He puts his arm around you and pulls you close, and you feel a sudden rush of warmth.

"I'm sorry for how I acted in the shower. Actually I’m sorry for everything," he says, his voice gentle. "I didn't mean to upset you, I was acting out of line this whole night. I just wanted to make things right."

You turn to look at him, and his eyes meet yours. You can see the honesty in his stare, and you feel yourself start to soften. Just as you open your mouth to apologize, he speaks.

“And look, if you don’t want to be around me right now, I understand. I’ll leave-”

He goes to stand up but you pull him by the hem of his shirt. By now you were more wasted than you anticipated and didn't want to be alone with your intrusive thoughts.

“No. Stay.” You slur out.

Relieved, he sits back down and looks at you in silence for a few moments, a flicker in his eyes.

“God, look at you. You’re so cute.”

He squeezes your cheeks between his hands once before getting up from your bed and walking towards your drawers, opening them and shuffling clothes around.

“What are you doing?”

“Pyjamas. It’s time you go to bed, you.”

You giggle burp. You didn’t want to go to sleep, you still wanted to talk about your feelings to him. But for some reason you found it endearing he wanted to put you to bed without sex being in the context.

Dean picks out a set of comfy clothes and walks back over to you.

“Up.” He orders you. Your towel drops to your feet and he fits your shirt over your head then continues to dress you in your clothes.

“Somni Modus (Bedtime mode).” Dean says a wandless spell which dims the lighting, lights the candles, puffs your pillows and pulls back your covers. You crawl to your side of the bed and Dean joins you on the other side, pulling the covers over you.

He leans on a pillow and props himself up on an elbow, facing you, watching your dizzy drunk self get comfortable in bed, cuddling a small pillow. He smiles, looking at you in awe. You roll over and feel the urge to pour your heart out to him,

“I probably wouldn’t say this to you when I’m sober but I think I-”

He cuts you off.

"Darling, you’re way too intoxicated right now. I promise we can talk more when you’re in the right state of mind. Just come and find me, and I’ll listen, okay? But for now, you need some rest.”

You pout, slightly saddened. There were still some things you wanted to get off your chest. But you don’t argue with him, your eyelids was feeling heavy and the room was spinning the more you tried to stay awake.

Dean tucks you in and kisses your forehead, then heads towards the door.

As he's about to leave, you reach out and grab his hand. "Please don't go," you say, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

He pauses, then smiles softly and sits back down next to you, pulling you into a soft embrace. "I won't go anywhere," he says, stroking your hair, "I'll stay here with you until you fall asleep."

You feel a wave of gratitude wash over you, and you snuggle closer to him, feeling safe and protected in his arms.

As you drift off to sleep, you realize that maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay with him after all.

______________________

Currently…

That was the last you heard from Dean. Your memories of the night had a few blanks, considering how much you drank, though you definitely remember how you felt. You spent many days, wracking your brain over why the night panned out like that and why he would promise to listen to you if he was just gonna ignore you in the first place.

You decided when you fully woke up, that was it. No more using your voluptas wand (Pleasure wand) and pretending it was Dean. You needed an explanation, a good fuck and to be on talking terms again and he was the only person who could give it to you. You flicked open his school schedule on your phone, which he had previously sent you so you would know his free periods for quickies or some head in the Elf janitor closet. You two were just that ravenous for each other.

You scrolled to his classes for the day and saw that he had a morning quidditch game against Slytherin. Dean had to be already up at the field, stretching and preparing for the match, he was an early bird.

You stand up from your bed and commit to your decision. You take a brisk shower and dress for the occasion - not showing too much so it shows you mean business but leaving out a little skin for a subtle hint of slutty to show him what he's been missing. Perfect.

It was a cold lengthy walk down to the Quidditch field. No one was awake except for the winter birds, owls and the sun kissing the sky with orange hues. As you neared closer to the male Quidditch changing tent, you went over in your mind exactly what you were going to say to him.

“So, no text? No. That’s lame. Okay, so when were you gonna tell me we weren’t doing this anymore. Ew! that too mushy for 5AM in the morning ,Y/K.” You thought to yourself.

Every sentence that came to conception only made you sound needy and that you wanted him more than you were willing to let him know. But you missed him badly, and you wanted him again for crying out loud! it was the truth. Him finding this out was a risk you were gonna have to take.

You stop out the front of the tent opening and release a big heavy sigh.

“Here goes nothing.”

You lift up the material of the tents doors and see the man of the hour. Butterflies swarm your insides. This had to be the first time you’ve ever felt anxious around him.

“Dean?”

He pauses his stretching and turns around. His beautiful cinnamon brown eyes travel from your legs, up to your eyes. He starts walking over to you with rush in his step.

“Right, so I don’t what’s happening between us but I–”

“Well, look who decided to come around.” He finally speaks.

Dean grabs your face into the palm of his hands and pulls you into a haste kiss. His tongue took no time finding yours. The tense from your body drops as you find yourself seeping into his pull, right where you want to be.

The feel of lips and touch felt like feeding an addiction you’ve been weaned off for eons and you’re getting a much needed hit again. But you still had questions. You pull from his kiss and ask away.

“First of all, why didn’t you hit me up? And ignoring me?”

“I was waiting.”

“For?”

“For when you’d make the first move.”

Your mouth opens wide as it forms into a smirk. From the sounds of it, he wanted to be chased by you. So the man has emotional needs and wants besides getting a load off. Who knew?

“Dean Thomas playing the waiting game? Seriously?”

“Oh shut up. I missed you.” he gives you another deep kiss then comes up, “That’s the last time I’m waiting for you to make the call. You almost drove me mad, woman.” his hands slides underneath your skirt and palms your ass cheek in his hand.

You press your body up against his, feeling his member already bricked up. And just like that, gasoline was thrown into the fiery tension between you two like it never left and it felt like pure electricity.

“Please tell me you didn’t jerk off. I want you at your best.”

“Like I said, I was waiting for you. Nothing can satisfy me the way you do.” He says, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bites.

You moan in response, feeling the heat rising between your legs. You pull him closer, your hands gripping his biceps tightly.

“We’re gonna need to have a serious talk but I need this first.” You breathe out as your hand slips down to his 9 inch member over his shorts while his hands explore your body.

“Of course. We can talk things over. Do me a favor first, pretty girl? bend over.” He takes your hand, spinning you around and positions you over the stacked bat trunk. You oblige to his request and bend over the case, exposing all of your sex to him.

Dean wastes no time, pulling up your skirt and pulling down your panties, revealing your wetness. He smirks at the sight, knowing he's the only one who can make you this soaked. He takes a moment to appreciate the view before teasingly running a finger over your folds, making you gasp.

“Please, Dean. Don't tease me. It’s been too long, I can’t wait anymore” You moan out, your body trembling with need.

He chuckles and slides a finger inside of you, pumping it slowly. He adds another finger, hitting all the right spots. He was pumping your pleasure button to new highs, making you buck back against his long strong fingers. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body starts to shake.

“Dean baby, I'm gonna cum.” You whimper out, unable to hold on any longer, and just before you feel the eruption of bliss, he pulls out.

He places a kiss on the back of your neck, “Wait for me baby. I know you miss it.”

And just like that, Dean’s Gryffindor jersey shorts and briefs drop to his ankles, you feel his member hot and hard rubbing against your ass cheeks. He takes his time and slides the tip down between your cheeks, against your asshole, to your hungry flesh. He pushes in slowly and immediately you feel the evidence of his absence. His size hurt like hell but it hurt so good, it already sent you over the edge into climax.

“You kept it nice and tight for me baby, hmmm?”

He dips in deeper, filling you up wholly, hitting your pleasure spot at the back of your pussy, driving you wild. You were gushing all over his dick yet as he pulls back, you feel the friction of your walls wrapped around him like a fitted glove, as if your pussy was designed just for him to fuck in.

He holds the hem of his shirt through his gritted teeth so it didn’t block the view. He wanted to see every motion of your needy cunt taking him whole. He paces himself while adjusting his tip at your entrance again. The tension and anticipation between the two of you was thick and vicious. Both of you knew what was about to go down, once he starts stroking, it’s game over for your precious walls.

Leaning down to you, he grabs a heap of your hair and twirls it in a fist, pulling your head back so his cheek was gashing against yours while he busts his first thrust into you, making your body jerk in intense euphoria. He goes again and again, until he picks up a rhythm. Your bodies rub together in heated unison, stimulating your senses to the nastiest levels possible, as he shoves kisses to your mouth, sucking on your tongue and leaving sloppy kisses on your cheeks and ear, thirsting for your affection. With every stroke, you’re sent into an oblivion of pure ecstasy.

Muffled grunts and mumbles of pleasure was all you could hear. It was killing Dean not to talk his shit. He’s a vocal lover, he knew all the right things to say that would brings out the animalistic freak in you. But in this tent, soft moans and whispers was all he could give you.

You rock your core back against his length, making him damn near lose all control and grip your hips with a tight hook as if he was cautiously trying to steady you. Throwing it back on him was a dangerous game, the control you had over him in the moment was unbearable. He desperately slows down his rhythm, nears your ear and mutters through his breath, “Oh, so you wanna play like that, huh?”

A devilish smile grows on your lips and you catch your breath in the quick spell he’s giving your walls.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You cluelessly respond.

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

He pants on top of you, nestling his face in your hair, taking in your scent and licking up the droplets of sweat on your back.

“Two can play that game, sweetheart.” He mumbles into your skin.

A half smile forms on his lips as he slams back into you. He chuckles as you begin to lose it under him again, the sight of your unraveling was pure entertainment for him. He was well aware of just how good he puts it on you.

He stands up and spreads your cheeks apart while observing the view.

“I love seeing your pretty pussy take this dick. Why’s that pussy so good, hmm?” He grunts out.

Dean halts and draws back so only the tip is in.

“I said, why is that pussy so good?” he squeezes your face between his hand and turns your head to him, making you look up at him in the eyes as he rams in and out of you, leaving you silently gasping for air. Rolls of the orgasms he gave you just moments ago were still coming over you.

“I think I need to fuck you before every match.”

He picks his pace back up, filling you entirely. Bending down, his lips swipe across yours, teasing your desperate mouth.

“I bet you’d like that. Wouldn’t you? Tearing that pussy up every game.”

You look back to find his eyes piercing into yours as he strokes you down. He had you exactly where he wanted you: under him, stretched and slutted out. He was driving you insane.

You moan in response, feeling his wood flesh you out like there was no tomorrow. The idea of being fucked by him every match was both exhilarating and dangerous. You knew it would be hard to resist him before every match, knowing he had pent up aggression for the quidditch field. It was intimidating how easily he dominated you like this. But right now, all you could think about was how good it made you feel, being his little cum bucket.

“Yes,” you gasp out, “I want you to fuck me every game.”

“That’s what I like to hear. You always spread your legs for me like a good fucking whore, no matter the time or place.”

His features soften and his eyebrows furrow in. He closes his eyes and crashes lips to yours, groaning in your mouth. His strokes deepened inside you to the back of your walls, he wouldn’t dare to pull back a single inch, he wanted to feel all your tightness around him. You clench your pussy lips as he rests balls deep inside you, the pleasure mixing in the pain of his shaft hitting your cervix sent you over once more. You bend further across the trunk, trying to process all the sensations he was giving you, shying from his stroke.

Dean pulls you back, burrying his cock deeper than he was before. You whimper through another nut with teary eyes and slippery sweat all over your body. There wasn’t any words you could fathom that could explain the bliss he was fucking into you.

“Don’t run, baby. Be a good girl, take it.” he whispers, watching your face go through levels of rapture.

He pauses and strokes one more time, steadying himself before giving you another row of toe curling plows. Retracting out and immediately ramming right back in. He continuously rips into you, not giving you a single moment to gather yourself.

“Take it. Take all this fucking dick. I missed this pussy too much. I missed you so much baby!”

His voice cracks into a deep tone, moaning out all his nasty thoughts to you, “You feel so good, you always do. My pretty little whore.”

And just like that, hearing him talk nasty to you sparks the freak in you to life. You start fucking him back, applying all the pressure to his cock.

“Yes baby. I’m a fucking whore. I’m your whore.” You screech out.

You were gone, completely lost in the heat of passion. Dean bought out filthy taboo in you that you didn’t even know had a place in your desires.

“Use me like a fucking toy. I’m just an object for your cum. Nut inside me.”

“Oh fuckkkk.”

His cum shoots against the back of your core. As much as he tried, he couldn’t hold back the roaring moan that left his mouth. You felt his load fill you to the brim as it oozed outside your slit and down the back of your thighs.

“Damn girl, what the…fuck. I haven’t nut that good in a minute…” He weakly pants, his body going limp against yours.

You tiredly chuckle, too exhausted to try to speak, basking in all the high sensations still running through your body.

He doesn’t pull out, he smiles and moves the strands of hair that were slicked against your face behind your ear.

“So that’s what you like? Being my toy?” He inquisitively mumbles between huffs, leaving soft pecks against your bare skin.

You freeze in embarrassment, wanting to hide from his grasp and gaze.

“Oh my g- I don’t even know why I said that. I say stupid shit when we fuck.”

“Well hold on now, who said it was stupid?”

You cover your face in embarrassment with your hand. Sure, the thought of him using you like a fleshlight is enough to make you cum from the thought alone but you couldn’t admit that to him, that was sensitive information for only you, your toys and your spank bank to know. Plus, it would only make him more arrogant knowing how much power play gets you off.

“If you’d allow it, I think you’d make a perfect beautiful tight toy for me.” He caresses your thigh, soothing over the indented marks of his fingers from digging into your skin.

He brings your hands from your face as he hardens inside you, already ready to make a slut out of you again.

You gasp and look at him with widened eyes. “Already?”

“Baby, you actually feel like heaven…can you blame me?” He tilts his head and smiles that cocky all knowing smile.

“You’re such a slut.” you laugh off.

“That makes two of us, sweetheart.”

He gives you a kiss accompanied by slow strokes. You coo from the soreness of your walls being worn out but you ached for another round, his sex was a pleasurable craving you would never get enough of.

From a far distance, you can hear a crowd of people chatting and laughing.

“Fuck. Shit. What time is it?” Dean abruptly tugs his full length out of you, pulling up his shorts.

“I’m not sure? I lost track of time ages ago.” You frantically look around you and over the trunk for your underwear.

Dean helps you look around and remembers he put it in the pocket of his shorts when he was undressing you.

“I think you’ll be needing this.”

He gets down on his knees and helps you put the panties back on, wiping his cum away from your thighs with a gym towel from the equipment basket. He slows his pace when he draws his touch up to your hips. You raise your brows, wondering why he stops rushing.

“Dean?”

He lays a kiss on you clit against the fabric and looks up at you with bright eyes and a smirk, caressing the back of your thigh.

“You free after the game? I have a feeling I’ll be needing to use my toy.”

“What? You ask now with people right outside? You know you can just text me after the game.”

He stands up and pulls you by your waist into him.

“I could, but I wanna hear you say it.”

He bites down on his bottom lips, waiting for the magic words. You antsily look at the exit of the tent, ready for players to start rolling in at any moment.

“Dean! They’re right outside.”

He raises his brows, not budging to let go of you. Either he didn’t give a fuck that anyone knew you were fucking or he was just that naturally bold and stubborn. You were sure it was the latter. Either way, you couldn’t resist his charm.

“Yes, I have a free period after your game to fuck.” You submit, coyly smiling and rolling your eyes.

Satisfied, he presses his lips against yours. “Good girl.”

“Okay, now I’m leaving.” you say against his kiss and step away to head for the exit.

“Yeah, get of here ya’ weirdo! Why are you in the male changing tents anyways? Pervert!” He exclaims loud enough for even the people outside to hear.

You halt and turn back at him in disbelief, breaking into laughter.

“You’re fucking annoying, you know that?”

“You love it.” He chuckles and gives your ass a quick slap.

You scoff. Before you could give a proper reply, the male cohort of the quidditch team enter into the tent.

“Morning Dean…and Y/K?” Ron approaches.

“Left my phone in the common room last night. Good thing Y/K is like totally obsessed with me and knew I had a game this morning.” Dean jokes, mimicking an American valley girl accent, “She came and dropped it off for me first thing.” he shoots you a wink as he makes the sneaky innuendo.

The balls on this guy. Unbelievable. You had to admit, it was fucking sexy though.

“Well that’s the last time I do that. I’ll just let the house elves take it to lost and found next time.”

He laughs. “That’s fair. Thanks anyways bro.”

Bro. Oh he’s really selling it, this guy needs an academy. You’re aware he’s only showing face but for crying out loud, it’s too soon, his cum is still warm inside you. No matter the fuss though, it’s him who’s gonna be moaning baby when you ride the brakes off him later.

You look once over at Ron then shoot Dean a thin lipped smile.

“Don’t mention it, bruv. Just focus on winning, we don’t need any more house points to Slytherin. Knock em’ dead.”

His brow cocks up as he squints, catching all the shade you’re throwing his way. It was written all over his face, he didn’t like that.

“Cheers.” Ron exclaims with a big grin.

You turn on your heels and make for the exit. The way you keep up antics to hide your affair in front of others was Oscar worthy at this point. Although it kept things on the hush-hush, it was exhausting. But my oh my, did Dean hate it. He was a poor example for a fuck buddy. He talked a good game but at the heart of it all, he was sensitive, needed reassurance from time to time and to be claimed out loud. If you knew what it would take for him to stop ignoring you, you would’ve acted on that weeks ago. At least that was the one thing you had over him, you knew Dean Thomas’s secret longing to be wanted and loved.

As selfish as it was, now that you knew his little secret, you now have the upper hand over this situationship. He’s not the only king of hearts anymore; you’re right besides him, sitting pretty on the throne for the queen.

As you leave, you raise your skirt higher, leaving a little cheek out and sway your hips as you exit, giving Dean a cheeky tease. Just enough to make him stiff in his shorts and sexually frustrated. You glance back and see Dean adjusting and tucking away his wood. Laughter erupts from you as you walk out the tent, it was actually hilarious how easy you make him fold.

You were sure you’re gonna catch some heat for it later.

But now after this morning, you realized you like how vexed he gets from your stunts of the need for attention.

Well, solely because it makes him fuck you harder.

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