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#what i love the most is when professors don’t allow late assignments
maislovebot · 3 months
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GOOD MORNINGGGG
how do you think the rest of the DOA members would be like vampies? :3
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GOOD MORNING!! Sorry that this is so late, my professor assigned some super hard assignments smh🙏 I honestly find it very interesting to think about the bsd characters in some vampire au so ty for this ask:3
I don’t normally write for Fukuchi but because this is just a small blurb I figured why not! Bram is also different from the others, as his doesn’t take place in an au and instead takes place in canon. Everyone else’s takes place in an au where their vampirism has a completely different set of rules from Bram’s!! You won’t become mindless if they bite you ty
I feel like Fukuchi has the most control out of any of them? He doesn’t really bite you often because he feels like it’s immoral. He’s already committing enough immoral crimes that completely go against everything him and his image stand for. He’s a war hero after all, why would he want to hurt more people than he already has to, especially when hurting you isn’t even going to save anyone. The only real exception would be if he was quite literally starving, and if you’re in poor health? Forget it. He’s never biting you. He would never bite you recreationally, it would only be if he was hiding from another organization and hadn’t eaten in multiple days.
If he were to bite you though, it wouldn’t be very different. He is a man with a lot of willpower and control. He’s able to control himself better than anyone else on this list, in all honesty. He’ll drink the amount he needs to be sustained, then he’s finished. No more no less.
He would enjoy eating nice meals, like perfectly cooked steak, or other things similar. He wouldn’t be very fond of roadkill, because he has the funds to eat at 5 star restaurants pretty much every day. Why eat things he sees on the side of the road?
Bram is similar in the sense that he has self control. He’s aware of the fact that if he were to bite you, you’d be subjected to becoming nothing more than a mindless, blood sucking creature. That isn’t what he wants from you. He wants to be with you for the rest of his days, even if he knows it isn’t realistic because you’re merely human. He’ll try to simply come to terms with the fact he won’t have you for very long, but it’ll only take him maybe 4 months after he’s gotten his body back for him to go on the hunt for something that can make him human, or safely turn you into a vampire. He’s aware of the page because of Fukuchi, and it’s his number one goal to get a hold of it now. He’d prefer to get it by teaming up with whoever is in possession of it, but if that doesn’t work out, he isn’t afraid to take a more villainous approach. Anything to keep you.
In terms of biting you, he never has because he knows what will happen. But oh god has he fantasized about it. It’s all he thinks about. You’d look so pretty with his fangs in your neck.
He didn’t really eat much before he got his body, only being fed whenever Fukuchi had someone he wanted turned, but that didn’t happen much until the vampirism outbreak. Now that he’s gotten his body back, he doesn’t bite people as one, he would feel unfaithful to you, even if nothing became of it and it was purely for feeding. He also wants to make a conscious effort to be good for Aya’s sake. He eats food you make for him. He doesn’t really like going out in public often, so he allows you to cook for him. You’ve made plenty of meals with blood in them, like animals, but you’ve also introduced him to other types of food, and even if they serve him no nutritional value, he finds them delicious.
Fyodor would love to bite you. If you’re just another pawn on his comically large chess board, then he’ll drink your blood with no real intent of giving you anything in return. Sure, he’ll toss you a rag, but you have to clean yourself off! He’s so horrible. If he cares about you, however, he is strangely tender. He has a sense of self control, but sometimes he gets so desperate for your blood he can’t help himself! He’ll hold you down and nibble into your shoulder. He likes biting your shoulder a strange amount. He can’t explain it, it’s just a nice, convenient spot to bite. This is why he loves it when you wear tops with thin or no straps. Makes for east access! Also let’s not forget that this man is anemic. He’d like to bite you to help get his iron levels up, so at least him constantly asking for you to let him bite you has some practical use? If you say no to him biting you, he’ll respect it. He cares about you, he wouldn’t do anything against your will. You’re the light of his life, after all. You’re perfection, therefore, what you say goes.
Whenever Fyodor does bite you, he’s quite literally on top of you, straddling you. He likes the power it gives him, even if in your opinion, he looks rather pathetic biting you while literally straddling you and trembling from how good you taste. He also likes to bite you from the back sometimes. He’ll walk up behind you, hugging you and swaying from side to side before grazing his fangs over your shoulder, awaiting your permission. He is capable of pacing himself, but if he begins ti notice you're getting dizzy more frequently, or you're getting woozy while he's biting you, he'll stop and clean up your bite, wordlessly cleaning you up and cuddling you.
He also likes to eat fine dining. Nothing can quite compare to the taste of your blood, but there are some fair substitutes. He will drink your blood whenever the opportunity presents itself, but he'll also take the two of you out to a nice restaurant and let you order whatevee you please, while he'll order something simple and bloody.
Nikolai is certainly the most strange when it comes to his behaviors. When he bites you he’ll take the blood left over and wipe it on your cheek or something weird like that😭 he also likes biting you in weird places because he finds it funny?? Like he’ll nibble on your fingertips and shit just for funzies?? Similarly to Fyodor, he would bite you whenever given permission. He doesn’t try to limit himself, if you give him permission, why stop? He’d treat you like fine dining. You’re sweet and yummy and Nikolai can’t get enough of it! If you were to tell him no, say that you don’t want him to bite you, he’d roll his eyes playfully but agree. He obviously wouldn’t want you to leave him because he bit you without asking! Then he wouldn’t be able to drink your yummy blood anymore. He also does care about what you have to say, even if he doesn’t admit it because he feels like it makes him seem less free.
As I said earlier, he likes biting weird obscure places, like your fingertips. He’ll lean down like a gentleman and kiss the top of your hand, slowly trailing down and kissing your knuckles, then your fingertips, before finally nibbling your finger tips. As he kisses you he places him hands on your stomach to press you down onto the nearest couch or bed, so you’ll be sitting up comfortably while he leans ahead of you. He also likes biting places like your collarbones, arms, etc. as much as he likes biting in weird obscure places, the neck is nice too. It’s simple, but affective.
He pretty much only drinks your blood..he’ll go a few days without eating (luckily vampires can last sufficiently longer without food that normal humans can), so once you’ve rebuilt your energy he can drink your blood again. Rinse and repeat that process over and over again, and you’ve got Nikolai’s eating habits. He’s also a messy eater..there will be blood pretty much dripping from wherever he bit you when he’s done so he can wipe it on your face or body.
We’ve already talked about Sigma a fair amount, but I’m down to cover the basics. He loves to bite you, in fact nothing can quite compare. He’ll bite you and once he’s done he has this appreciative look on his face. He loves that you’re willing to let him bite you, but he also feels bad. He tends to space out when he bites you, and he prefers biting you in places that have more fat so it hurts less. He’s already a thigh guy but he especially loves biting you there.. your neck is also a good spot to bite though. It’s a little more painful for you, though, so he tends to not bite you there often.
When he’s finished biting you he’ll just lick up the blood, and get a towel. If you’re too tired he’ll just set you down and take a bath with you, bandaging up wherever he bit you. If you’re not, he’ll treat you real good to make up for it. He may love biting you, but somehow, seeing how you’re attached to him at the hip, clinging onto him for the rest of the day is even more satisfying. He finds it cute.
He loves eating stuff you make for him and stuff from nice restaurants, and despite the fact nothing can quite compare to you, he knows he can’t realistically drink your blood every day. You’d get sick, and not to mention it would cause a lot of swelling and bruising. He’d rather space it out.
I was tempted to make this sufficiently more nsfw, but I decided to refrain from anything sexual outside of biting as I didn’t wanna deviate from the original prompt too much..
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totopopopo · 9 months
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do you have any bits of advice for someone about to start college as a freshman? (undergraduate)
Omfg I have lots of advice but first and foremost CONGRATULATIONS THATS VERY EXCITING!!!!!!! IT’S GOING TO BE AMAZING!!!!! EVEN IF ITS A BIT SCARY AT FIRST!!!!!!
I think my biggest piece of advice is like…. Have fun with it? That sounds unhelpful and glib but I mean it. DON’T go in with rigid expectations of what your major is going to be—don’t declare asap and start your first semester already in the mindset of that major. Allow yourself the opportunity to explore all the weird fun interesting classes you would never think to take in a million years even if it has nothing to do with anything! Because that’s how you can accidentally stumble upon something life changing. Allow yourself to explore and be open minded. But also allow yourself to take a step back and completely change courses—that’s equally, if not more important. Don’t pigeonhole yourself into doing something you don’t genuinely enjoy, and honestly, even if you find yourself doing that, it’s not to late to back out. Redeclare your major if you need. Drop out if you need. There’s no moral judgements to this, it’s about what will make your life better and more enriching. Don’t focus on what you’re going to do after college right now. Focus on finding the things that genuinely interest you.
Dorm life is gross, full stop. Be respectful of the people you live with. Clean up after yourself in the bathroom, don’t blast music or have a thousand people over at 3am on a Thursday night, for the love of god please don’t try to make soup in the communal bathroom sink or eat peanut m&ms in the shower (the ramifications of which I did experience during my time as a college student, for both those examples).
Don’t leave your laundry in the washing machines or drying machines for hours after it’s finished, it’s rude as fuck.
Stock up on snacks and easy prep meals for when you get sick of dining hall food. Eat vegetables, I’m serious about that one.
Find the professors you click with. They’ll help you when things go bad.
Find the students you click with. It’s okay if it doesn’t happen immediately. I promise it will happen.
Prioritize yourself over school. I mean it. Getting sleep is more important than finishing all your assignments. I mean it. I really mean it. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.
Morning classes in college are very different from morning classes in high school. 9am might not seem early to you now but it will feel like the asscrack of DAWN when it’s happening. Plan accordingly.
Make sure you like a teacher before committing to a class, they can make or break a semester.
Utilize the add drop period that most if not all colleges have. Shop around try out as many things possible.
Don’t overcommit. Don’t register for ten billion credits. Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. In fact I am telling you right now don’t fucking do it. It’s not worth it.
If this applies to you, get the accommodations you need from your professors. If you have to go thru a service like the office of disabilities, do that. Fight for your rights. Academia wasn’t built for you, and it’s not fair, and the system works against you, but you deserve to be there and you deserve to thrive. Don’t let them cheat you out of what you need and what you deserve. You have power.
Find somebody with a car.
I could go on and on and on and on, but I’ll stop it there. I know it can feel incredibly overwhelming, and right now there are a LOT of unknowns in your life. But I promise it’s going to be good. Things will get more complicated but also much less complicated. Have fun. Make sure you’re doing what you love. I’m rooting for you and I’m in your corner!!! If you need anything please let me know!!!! Good luck!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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figofswords · 1 year
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hi !! so i’ve followed you for a while now and i like all your posts but i’m really interested in whenever you post about your art classes in college! i want to be an art major myself but my college doesn’t have that good of an art program and i also don’t really know how art classes usually work. obviously if this feels like it’s too prying or would be too much information than is safe to give online then u can ignore this but if you don’t mind/have time could you tell me a bit about how being an art major works or what classes you took? your art is really cool and a huge inspiration to me and i want to try and be where you’re at one day. thank u :)
Sorry for the very late response to this! I have been In Hell with final projects which I guess is the first thing I have to say about art school: every class gives you a huge final project at the end all at once and expects you to have time for it. haha
So I was actually in a similar situation to you when I started college. I was originally a music major at a university that had really great programs for performing arts but was sort of lacking in the visual arts department. By my second semester of freshman year I was taking an art minor, by sophomore year I switched to an art major and a music minor, and by spring break sophomore year I knew for sure the existing art program wasn’t going to give me what I needed, and so I transferred schools in between sophomore and junior year. I knew I didn’t want to go to a private conservatory school because a) the prices are exorbitant, b) I have a lot of interests and wanted to have options in case I changed my mind again, and c) the lack of exposure to other academic areas means the rate of burnout at those schools is ridiculously high. I ended up at a university with a highly rated art program in a major that includes courses in the subject matter I wanted (namely comics/sequential art and concept art).
for how art classes work: generally your art classes will take the form of “studios”, which at my school are ~3hrs long twice a week. during that time you either sit through lectures and demonstrations or just work in class, or sometimes a combination of both. Professors assign projects to be completed based on a given rubric. It’s pretty standard to have 3-4 projects per course, sometimes with additional smaller homework exercises that are usually either graded lower or not graded at all. At the end of each project most classes will hold in-class critique, where each student informally presents their finished piece and receives constructive feedback from classmates and the professor. Some professors allow you to make adjustments after crit before turning it in again, and some don’t. Generally I’ve found most art professors to be pretty flexible about stuff but there are a few bad eggs in any department.
Generally I don’t think majoring in art is necessary for being a professional artist. There are tons of wonderful resources (YouTube videos, online workshops, in person workshops at your local arts center or artist studio collective) that can give you the same things you would be getting in college just for a fraction of the price. The benefit of art majoring is, I think, mostly about making connections with people in the industry and with your peers. It’s been the right move for me because I have trouble self-motivating and I’ve loved having access to student publications and clubs, as well as having access to student-organized art markets and other similar events, but I also have always done well in academic settings and college scheduling in many ways mirrors the way I was homeschooled which fits my learning style very well. Again, though, it’s not for everyone and it 100% comes down to the individual person. You could also always do a combination of things: getting your associates at a community college will get a lot of your gen ed coursework out of the way if you then transfer to a full university to finish your bachelors.
Hopefully that was helpful! Let me know if you have any other specific questions I didn’t address.
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girlrose · 3 years
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i love the way school makes me feel like an actual lazy loser idiot
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mercy-burning · 3 years
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Good Little Helper
Pairing: Season 5! Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader gets assigned to be Spencer’s personal assistant of sorts after he gets shot in the knee. Category: SMUT(18+) Content Warnings: fingering (female receiving), blowjob, praise kink, dirty talk, blink and you’ll miss it cumplay Word Count: 4.7k
MASTERLIST
NOTE: So, remember yesterday when I posted about how I wished new ideas would stop distracting me from everything I’m currently working on? Yeah. This wouldn’t leave me alone, and I couldn’t work on anything until I got it out of my head, so here! Have a fic! (It was supposed to be a blurb, but I got a little long-winded so now it’s too long to be a blurb oops 😙✌) Also, I apologize for any editing mistakes, I just wrote this out in one go, so hopefully it’s alright!
***
Being assigned to assist Dr. Reid with practically his every need after he was shot in the knee wasn't exactly how I expected to spend the past few months.
And that's, like... a huge understatement.
In fact, when Agent Hotchner came up to me in the break room and said he'd like me to do the job, I dropped my coffee and shattered a mug. I could tell he was a little impatient with me, even through his kind reassurances that it was quite all right as he helped me clean it up and waited for an answer.
In the end I'd said yes to the job, though the more I thought about it the more I wondered how much lust and naivete had clouded my judgement when I did.
Because there was absolutely no way I was going to be able to survive weeks, possibly months, as Spencer Reid's assistant. Not only because he was intimidatingly intelligent and there was almost nothing I could offer him in decent conversation, but also—and more prominently—the fact that I was pretty sure I was in love with him.
Maybe that was a stretch. I definitely had a stupid major crush on him that felt more like we were in middle school, but I could barely look at him without going warm all over. In fact, I think we had only ever made eye contact once and I averted my gaze immediately, afraid I'd give myself away. If I'd have held it any longer, I was positive I'd have burst into flames.
He'd tried talking to me once, a few months after I started working at the Bureau, and it was only to ask if I'd send some files over to their tech analyst, Penelope Garcia, but when I tried answering, I stumbled over my words and ended up only getting out a squeaked, "Uh huh," before taking the files from him and scurrying off.
I almost cried that day.
Basically every time I was in his presence, I was a total wreck. Even more so than I was on any other given day.
Being his assistant did get fairly easy pretty early on, though. I mostly just stayed out of his way while he worked, and if he need anything that he could've gotten himself if not for the injury, it was my job to get it for him. I worked on my own paperwork most of the time, and he was always busy working on geographical profiles and whatever else, we only ever really had to talk when he asked for something. And that only required a, "Sure," on my end, so I could just get up, get what he needed, and then go back to work.
Still, it didn't help that sometimes I'd get distracted.
He was very distracting.
I usually waited until I was sure he was so busy in work that I wouldn't get caught. And that's when I'd peek over my computer or hide behind a book and stare at him. I know that sounds creepier than it is, but if you had to spend almost every hour of the day with him, you'd have done the same. Even though for months he was put on rest from the field, he always showed up looking more like a college professor than an FBI agent. Which, I suppose suited him more anyway. Regardless, it was a damn fine look. His hair was decently long and extremely pretty, and when he got the cane?
I was a goner.
It was at that point, though, when I started to realize that he probably wouldn't need my help anymore. He'd been allowed back into the filed by then, and even when I went with them on cases it still felt like I was more out of place than usual. Sure, I'd picked up on some minor skills that aided in profiling and otherwise, but at the end of the day I was still only a desk clerk. Sooner or later, I knew there would be a time where Agent Hotchner would inevitably tell me that I'd done a good job and could return to my menial day job.
So, even though Dr. Reid and I had gotten into a pretty regular, non-awkward rhythm, I was being a little more squirrely than usual.
And of course, he noticed.
"Y/N, are you doing alright?" he asked, looking up from his stack of paperwork. That was another thing we'd ended up doing— late into the night after everyone had gone home, we stayed late in the conference room and quietly filled out paperwork.
I barely looked him in the eye when I answered. "O—Oh, mhm. I'm fine."
"Oh... You just seem... a little different today."
On any other day I would have freaked out on the inside like a teenager, excited that he'd noticed me at all enough to notice a difference in my behavior. But that was his job after all.
"Actually, you seem rather... sad."
I did look up at him this time, and the soft glow of the table lamp lit up his features— features that looked me over with concern. I could feel my face grow warmer with every second I looked at him, until I quickly looked back down at my paper and shook my head.
"N—No, I'm okay. Promise. Just a little tired, that's all."
Usually he would have left it at that, given we didn't ever really have longer conversations than that that didn't pertain to whatever case the BAU was working on. But he pushed further, and I swallowed.
"Are you sure? Because... You can tell me if there's something wrong. I'm a good listener..."
Did I dare tell him what was really plaguing me? That I was scared I wasn't going to be able to spend time with him every day, thus most likely giving away my crush? That is, if he hadn't already figured it out by this point... Truthfully it wouldn't have surprised me.
The thought made me go warm again, and still, I kept my head down.
"I'm sure..."
And then I did something I probably shouldn't have. I looked back up at him, just a quick glance, but under his intense gaze I crumbled, flitting my eyes back down and playing with my hands.
"Is it... because of me?"
Afraid suddenly that I'd made him feel bad, I straightened a little. "No! No, not at all I... Um... I—I guess I'm just... A little sad that I'm probably... not going to be of any help to you anymore. You know, now that you're healing up."
A small smile flashed over his face, and I inwardly melted.
"Oh... In that case I... I guess I'm sad, too."
"Really?" I asked softly, my heart jumping.
"Mhm," he answered back in earnest. His features were softer than they'd ever been, eyes wide and kind, smile inviting... "You've been a great help. And you're fun to be around."
I couldn't help but smile shyly at his confession, completely bewildered that he'd think of me as someone he'd enjoyed being around, though I'd offered just about nothing interesting to any conversation we'd had. "Y—You don't mean that..."
"I do."
"C'mon, really? I... I—mean... coming from you that's... that's too generous."
He laughed a little. "How do you mean?"
"I... Well, y—you're you... I mean, you're... smart, and nice, and cu— uh,... n—nice..." I stumbled hard on that last one, squeezing my eyes shut at the thought of almost calling him cute to his face... And then I realized I'd called him nice two times... in a row.
I hadn't even realized he'd gotten up and walked over to me until I felt his cane gently tap my leg. I jumped, looking up at him and almost crumbled again right then and there. He stood over me, tall and clearly amused, and I wanted to just curl up and hide where no one would ever find me.
I also didn't want to be craning my neck so far up to see him, so I stood up, sending my chair rolling back a foot or two. The added height was better, but he was still fiarly taller than me, and with the way were standing so close to each other?
Maybe I'd made a mistake...
"I—I'm sorry," I stammered.
Still amused, Spencer tilted his head a small amount. "What for?"
"I... I don't know, m—making this awkward?"
"It's not awkward."
"It... It's not?"
He shook his head, quiet for a few beats before he nearly whispered. "What were you going to say?"
I paused. "I... What?"
"Before... You said I was smart. And nice... And... What else?"
It sounded like he was trying to get me to confess something, and quite honestly I couldn't tell if it was for humiliation or amusement or clarification purposes. I mean, it was probably safe to assume he wouldn't go out of his way to humiliate me, but... it still made me nervous.
"I—I didn't... I..."
"Y/N... Tell me?"
I'd been cornered. Quite literally, too, as my lower back hit the edge of the table. My hands shook anxiously at my sides as I contemplated what to say. The truth? Embarrassing for me. A lie? I was no good at telling lies, and I'd still end up embarrassed, because he'd be able to tell.
So, after a very long silence in which he waited on me to answer, I blurted out, as quietly as possible, "Cute."
The word sounded juvenile coming from my mouth. Right now, standing under Dr. Reid's intense scrutiny, it didn't even feel like the right word to describe him. Not that it wasn't true... But it just wasn't an elegant enough descriptor for him.
And that alone probably proved just how different we were. How out of my league he was...
"That's what I thought you were going to say," he mused, slightly breaking me out of my self-deprecation.
I would have asked him something then, anything to keep myself from looking like even more of a fool with a childish schoolgirl crush, but all words escaped me entirely. All I could do was look up at him, slowly growing warm under the intensity of his eyes and praying he wouldn't think of me as silly.
Though, it wouldn't have mattered, because he kept talking anyway, his body taking up even more space around me as his arms came around to well and truly trap me against the table.
"You're right, you know... I'm almost completely healed, and pretty soon I think I won't need an assistant anymore."
I was scared that maybe I was wrong before, and he'd actually humiliate me now, though the look in his eyes suggested otherwise. I wasn't sure what to make of all of it. SO I just stood there, trying to breath steadily as Spencer studied my face.
"And I meant it... That makes me sad. You know why?"
I shook my head, afraid to make a sound.
His head dipped lower, close enough that I could feel his breath on my mouth as he spoke. "I probably won't get to see you every day."
"Y—you want to see me?" I couldn't help but ask.
He scanned my eyes, amusement and something else lingering there as he did. "Yes."
And then he kissed me.
It was a short distance, but it felt like we went far. And I hadn't even registered that I whimpered into his mouth until he returned it with a low groan that boiled my insides and absolutely melted me. I was helpless against him as he pressed himself further against me and used his hands to keep my back steady.
The whole time my mind was swimming with dizziness. It felt like my body was covered in butterflies from head to toe, particularly strong where his hands pressed into me and his cane rested firmly along the inside of my thigh.
I leaned forward when he pulled away, because I was afraid that he was saying goodbye. But one of his hands came up to my face and my eyes fluttered open, immediately taking notice of how messy his hair was now that I'd had my fingers in it.
I must have looked scared, because suddenly his eyes changed, and he removed his hands away from me altogether, putting distance in between us. "I—I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you without asking..."
The relief that rushed through my body must have gotten to my head, because I breathed out a demand I'd never have had the courage to get out before.
"Do it again."
One second I was staring at him, admittedly afraid that he'd regretted all of it, and the next I was seeing stars as he came forward and kissed me again. His hands cradled my face as he did so, coming on to me with gentle care while still maintaining that hunger that surprised and excited me.
I hadn't realized how much I missed his touch until he'd given it back to me, my body once again melting into him and allowing him to do whatever it is that pleased him.
Apparently that was lifting my leg off the ground and making me sit on the table.
My body went along with it easily, and I was glad for it because my brain was nothing but mush, unable to process fully how he'd decided that I was worth kissing. All I really knew was that I wanted him. Anything he wanted from me, I was willing to give. And that must have come across very clearly, because when he pulled away and spoke to me, I whimpered at his words.
"Y/N... You've been such a good girl, helping me with whatever I needed these past few months..." Meanwhile his hand danced along the hem of my skirt, the tiny brushes of his skin against mine sending me into a mess of shivers.
"I think it's about time I've thanked you for all your help, don't you think?"
The implications in his tone made me whine again, and I pressed my forehead into his, our noses brushing as I answered. "Please."
I was so taken by the way he groaned as his lips connected with mine once more that I almost didn't realize that his hand was now fully up my skirt, his fingers drawing gentle lines over my panties and practically making me melt again. His hungry kisses contradicted the softness he took to my clothed cunt, a fact that warmed me to my core and made me want him more than ever.
When he slipped the fabric aside and ran the pad of his finger through me, I whined hard against his mouth, something that must have excited him— He nipped at my bottom lip and took a deep breath.
"How long have you wanted this, Princess?"
If not for the kissing and the finger slowly sliding up through my arousal, the nickname would have done me in. By now I was an utter wreck, but I somehow still managed to answer, even through a little stammering. "F—Forever."
It was the best I could come up with.
He breathed a laugh as his finger circled my clit. "That's a long time..."
"Uh huh," was all I could manage in response. My body and my brain were too focused on the things his finger was doing to my body, involuntarily rolling my hips forward for more. I needed more.
Thankfully he picked up on my urgency and reciprocated with slipping his middle finger inside me, one knuckle, then two...
I cried out as my head lurched forward, connecting our mouths once again. My hands clutched around his neck and my fingers tugged at his hair to keep myself from falling, because the slow, searing pace at which he fingered me made me wonder how I'd still been able to breathe.
He added another finger soon enough, picking up the pace and rendering me practically useless in his embrace. Meanwhile I registered the sound of his own little whines, still deeper than mine but little enough to tip me off that he was enjoying this just as much as I was, and that alone helped get me further along in pleasure.
I pulled my mouth from his reluctantly, squeezing my eyes shut as I allowed my forehead to rest against his. "D—Doctor, I'm c... I'm so close."
"His honorific falling breathlessly from my mouth seemed to do something sinister to him, because his fingers sped up and his breathing got heavier.
"Yeah? You gonna come for me, Princess?"
My stomach tightened and I nodded as best as I could, relishing in the sounds coming from below us, wet and downright filthy.
"Go ahead...Be a good girl and come for me... You deserve it..."
Each little sentence was punctuated with a slightly faster pace, each one bringing me closer and closer until I squeaked into his mouth and shook violently around his fingers, my vision going white. My legs had been open wide since he'd started teasing under my skirt, but now they threatened to clamp shut from the intensity. But I wanted nothing more than to be good for him, to make this as easy as possible, so I held out and kept them open as wide as I could stand as my orgasm rocked through me.
Spencer whispered praises into my skin as his hand slowed and his mouth trailed down to my neck. And even though it was more than nice feeling him lick and bite over my skin, I felt rather sad when he removed his fingers from me.
That sadness didn't last long though, not when he pulled back and studied me for a moment, eyes lust-blown and purely ravenous before he brought his glistening fingers up to my mouth.
I didn't even have to think. I brought my tongue out and let him slip his fingers over it, closing my mouth around them and sighing as I sucked them clean. This only seemed to excite him more, his features displaying all sorts of desperation until he couldn't take it anymore.
He kissed me again, bringing both his hands to rest at my waist. And with his hands so low I wondered if maybe he'd take to ridding himself of his own pants, but it never happened. Rather, he pulled away after minutes of more kissing, and sighed quite sadly as his upper body pressed firmly into mine.
Something else pressed firmly against me as well—right along the inside of my thigh—and I gasped, mind running wild through all the possible outcomes of the night.
But Spencer only stood there, occasionally nudging his nose against mine while his hands gently kneaded my sides.
"D—Do you want to stop?" I asked softly, afraid he'd regret what we did.
He proved me wrong. "God, no... It's... It's just that I'm still not cleared enough for any... strenuous activity on my leg, and I don't..."
I didn't want to push him, obviously, but I thought I could make the mood a little lighter. "O—Oh, well on the bright side... I could stay your assistant for a while longer."
The laugh that rumbled in his throat made me smile, though from the way he stood there, I knew he wouldn't risk it.
"Um... Raincheck?" he whispered.
On the one hand, that meant he definitely wanted to see me again, and I was more than happy with that. But also, that meant our fun for the night was done...
Yet... Maybe not...
"Sure," I answered, pecking his lips once more. Then I brought my hand to his chest and slid it down until I reached his belt, and I leaned back to look him in the eye, a boldness I never imagined coming from me in a million years.
"But I can still help you..."
I watched the desperation and disappointment in his features slowly dissolve into a newfound hunger—and an amusement—that grew my confidence tenfold.
"Oh?" Spencer mused. "How do you suppose you can help me this time?"
He wanted me to say it. So, without second guessing myself anymore, I grazed my finger over his erection. "I'm very good with my mouth, Dr. Reid."
He grabbed me by the hand then, dragging me along to the chair I'd kicked back before and sat himself down, one of his hands still gripping the cane. Matched with the desire in his eyes and the swollenness of his lips and the tousled strands of his hair, the sight was truly something to behold. It was something that only ever existed in my dreams, nd now it was real.
Not wanting to waste any time, I sunk to my knees and nestled myself in between his legs. He reached out and caressed my cheek before lifting my chin with his middle finger.
"You like being my good little helper?" he drawled.
I tried to nod, but he clicked his tongue and held my chin in place. "Words, Princess."
"Yes. I—I'd do anything you asked. Anything you want, it's yours..."
He hummed then, removing his hand from my face and moving to undo his belt swiftly with only one hand. The action, the sound, everything... it was enough to make me wet again, and I subtly ground down onto the heel of my foot as I watched him pull himself free from the confines of his pants.
I didn't have time to marvel at him before I was drawn forward like a magnet, my hands crawling up his legs and my eyes batting up at him, ready and eager to please him however he wanted.
"Eager, are we?" he mused once more, gently stroking himself with his hand.
"Yes, Doctor," I breathed, inching closer and kissing the outside of his hand.
His movement stopped then, and it didn't take longer than a second for him to decide to let me work on my own.
"Then have at it, Princess..."
I started by kissing my way up the length of him, taking my time to gauge his reactions as I did so, occasionally darting my tongue out to taste him. Once I reached the tip, I sucked on it gently, using my tongue to swirl around it until I could taste the saltiness of his precum.
And then I started taking him slowly into my mouth, watching above me as Spencer's eyes started to shut, obviously debating whether or not to lay back and enjoy this or watch me intently.
Either way, I was more than happy to keep it up, finally getting him to the back of my throat. I flexed my tongue and held him there as long as I could, promptly gagging over him and blinking tears from my eyes as he let out a loudest sound I'd heard from him yet. His head flew back and his tongue quivered along his bottom lip as he cursed my name.
The act made me proud, so I retreated for air, sucked at his tip again for a few seconds, and then repeated it, taking him down my throat again and watching through teary eyes as he visibly swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut.
"Fuck, Y/N, you're so... Such a good fucking girl..."
The praise caused my insides to burn hot, and I ground down onto my heel again, lifting my mouth to start bobbing up and down.
His eyes opened then, and he looked down at me, using his hand to brush stray hair from my face and the other to grip onto his cane for dear life. I looked up at him the whole time, making sure to convey through not only my actions but also my eyes that I loved this. I thrived off of his praise, I enjoyed the feel of his dick gliding over my tongue and hitting the back of my throat, and I longed to feel him coat the inside of my mouth with his release.
I was so entirely into him in every capacity, it wasn't even funny.
I was so glad he could tell, a smile grazing his features as his hand gently gripped some of my hair. "So eager to please, Princess... And so fucking good at delivering..."
I whined onto his dick as he held me down, rendering me immobile. The only thing I could do was look up at him and choke, and of course, I was more than happy to do it. In turn, I was met with a deep groan and a tug of the hair.
"Hold it, hold it... Atta girl..."
My cunt throbbed at his words, and my throat continued to burn, tears falling down my face at ten-speed until finally, he let up and pulled me off of him.
I coughed a little and blinked away tears as I caught my breath, Spencer's fingers combing hair from my face as he smiled proudly.
He didn't even need to say anything then. I wanted to give him more. So I leaned down again and took him in my mouth, quickly making work of his tip while my hand came up and stroked the rest of him.
"Fuck, Princess, just like that... Make me come just like that..."
Rather than just continuing, I offered him a high whine and a wide gaze, hoping to exceed expectations.
I guess it worked, because he came right then, his dick pulsing over my tongue and in my hand as his warm release shot down my throat and over my tongue. I hummed around him, fluttering my eyes closed at the taste and the feeling, probably enjoying the fact that I'd done this to him more than I should have.
It was worth it to see the look on his face, though, after he'd given me all he had and I purposely spit some of it out onto the tip of his dick so I could lick it up and give him just a little more stimulation after the fact. His mouth hung open, eyes heavy and unwilling to leave me, even as I finished and sat back to wipe the tears and saliva from my face with a satisfied smile.
Though, the longer he looked at me, the more shy I became. Funny when I'd just had his dick down my throat, but I'd never been good with people staring at me for long periods of time.
"Was that... Was that okay?" I asked, suddenly worried I hadn't done something to his standards. "I know I don't do this a lot, so I'm sorry if it wasn't that g—"
"Y/N..."
I blinked up at him, still on my knees and unwilling to move. Not that I wanted to, but I couldn't even if I had.
"That was fucking perfect... I meant it, you're... so good."
I knew he was capable of better words, but after having the life sucked out of you, I could imagine 'better words' were hard to come by. Still, I laughed a little, playing with the hem of my skirt. "Good. I'm... glad I could help."
He smiled at me, readjusting his pants and then moving to help me off the ground.
"Hey, uh... Even when you go back to your regular job after I get better, I... I hope you know you're always welcome to come visit me if we're not busy."
The words warmed me in a different way, my heart swelling as well. "You... You mean that?"
Spencer nodded, grabbing my hand and dragging his thumb over my wrist. "Of course. I mean, you're more than just a good helper, you know. You're also kind, and smart, and cute..."
I laughed at his emphasis on cute, heat warming my face. "Ha-ha..."
"I really mean it, though," he said softly, removing his hand from mind and bringing it up to lift my chin, so I'd meet his eyes. They were swimming with sincerity, the epitome of warmth and comfort and kindness— the kind that always drew me to him in the first place. "And... If you'd want to maybe ditch the paperwork one day and grab a coffee or something, maybe—"
"Yes," I interrupted without thinking. My heartbeat picked up upon seeing the look in his eyes when I agreed, a mixture of amusement and relief. "Y—Yes, I'd love to."
"Good. Then it's a date?"
"Definitely."
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tnystrk-exe · 3 years
Text
Estocolmo
Hannibal x Reader
Masterpost
Warnings: Smut 18+ thigh riding, fingering, oral, daddy kink, plot to make up for my first attempt at writing smut.
Word count: 6.8k
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Chapter One
“Fucking hell.” You sighed as you looked at the still tall stack of essays that needed grading. “I’m never getting through this.”
Your stomach grumbled, signaling it was time for a break. Stretching, the quiet was interrupted by the sound of your bone’s protest from sitting in one position for hours. It was nights like these you had regretted your choices. Sure you had known Professor Jacob loved to torture his students with too much work, but when you took the job as his assistant you assumed that he’d shoulder some of the weight. A ridiculous thought now that you’ve experienced working with him. Why should he even think of grading an assignment when he had a perfect little lackey doing it for him? That was a non question. He had been strict about the work not leaving his office, which meant you had accidentally fallen asleep in his office more than often than you would have liked. The pile of work never seemed to diminish. 
Walking out the office, you thought briefly of the joy you would feel when you’d never have to see it again. These long corridors would be a thing of the past in just a few, short months. Then you’d probably go to the city and struggle for a while but at least you would be free from here. As much as you prided yourself for getting through the first round of college, the walls of the building gave you more of an annoyed feeling than anything. 
Pushing open the door to the teachers lounge, you made a beeline for the fridge. The leftover pizza already seemed like a feast until you noticed it was nowhere to be seen. “Hannibal,” you whined to the empty room as you closed the fridge. 
“Yes, darling?” 
You startled, immediately turning around to face him, a mischievous smile was plastered on his lips. Usually your missing dinner meant to head over to his office. It wasn’t typical, but the two of you had managed a comfortable friendship between the shared late nights. Though, you suspected he’d stay longer than necessary to accompany you in the empty building. “Would you mind telling me where my dinner went, handsome?” You asked, raising a brow at him.
“Old pizza can hardly be considered dinner. Come,” he motioned to sit next to him at the table, “I’ve got a better meal prepared for you nonetheless.”
“Or maybe you just need to learn to appreciate the simple things,” you quipped as you took your seat.
“And you, the finer.”
You gave him an obvious look over, “I’d say I appreciate you plenty enough.” 
Being so forward wasn’t usually in your cards. However Hannibal had always been a gentleman and it had been fun to tease at him a bit. He never complained, often just acknowledging what you said with a raised brow or chuckle. Still there was always some truth in jokes and you’d be lying to say that he was anything less than tempting. Especially in the dark grey suit and dried blood red shirt of his. ‘No’ wouldn’t come to mind if he ever offered.
“Naughty, Miss LN,” he chided you, “What shall we do with you?”
“What do you want to do with me?”
“Eat your dinner,” he said, humor in his voice as he shook his head.
You choked back a comment about him just wanting to see your mouth stuffed, deciding it was too much of a push. Instead you just opened the lunchbox he placed in front of you. Hannibal watched you expectantly as you took a bite of the meat.
Closing your eyes, you savored the bite. It had been a while since you had something home cooked. “Han... I’m going to miss you most. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you. Delicious, as always.”
“I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” He went back to work on his own stack of papers as you ate. “Though, I’m not sure I’m ready to allow you to live off street food once we part.”
“Guess we’re gonna have to find me another man that insists on throwing away my perfectly good food to serve me home cooked meals.”
Hannibal left some remarks on a paper before pushing it to the side. “You could always come learn a few things. Maybe I’ll rest better knowing you know how to make yourself a couple of decent meals. Any guesses for the meat?”
It was a strange guessing game, but you indulged him, he was just eccentric. “Oh, definitely human,” you teased, making sure to pick up some spinach and artichoke in the next bite, “Probably had a boring name like David.”
“Close. It was Richard,” he corrected. 
“Beef, it was the Rolex of all farm animals hand picked by you and I’m very grateful you shared some with me,” you smiled at him, “So how are things going with Baltimore?”
“I’ve found a beautiful home. The office, however, seems to be harder to find.”
“I’m sure you’ll find the perfect one.” Your phone started ringing. Grabbing it from your pocket, you looked at the screen. Mom. “They’re making this unnecessarily difficult,” you sighed to yourself. 
Hannibal looked at you with peaked interest as you shut off your phone and pushed it away. “Is something troubling you?”
“My parents aren’t taking too kindly to the no contact rule. It’s the tenth call today.”
“You’ve cut them off?”
“I thought about what you had said,” you shrugged, “I’m tired of always having to get them out of troubles and be their ATM when I don’t have enough for myself. It’s just too much on me right now. Between school assignments, Jacob’s work pile, and my other part time, it’s all just suffocating. They keep trying to use my grandfather’s death as a leverage to make me feel bad about not talking to them now, but they just want some money. I don’t want to feel guilty about this but I can’t help it.”
“Don’t,” he placed his hand over yours, “You deserve to feel taken care of and appreciated. They aren’t providing you with that now. Especially now when they use the death of the person who raised you as leverage,” he shook his head, making a disgusted sound, “It’s for your own well-being that you take some time to breathe and be young. They provide too much stress…” Hannibal fell silent. “I’ve suggested this before but i-“
You gave his hand a gentle squeeze before pulling away. “I’m not taking your money. We’re friends. Money complicates things. Muddies the waters.”
“Friends help each other,” he reminded you, “I’ve already told you I wouldn’t want any payment.”
“But I’d still feel like I owe you.” You shook your head, “It wouldn’t feel right to me. I’m fine. I promise. Though, if you’re so willing to help me with something, I wouldn’t say no to those cooking lessons. They could be fun.”
He spared you a smile, “It would be my pleasure to teach you what I know.”
“And I’d never deny your pleasure,” your mouth spoke before you could think about it, “Sorry.”
“I don’t deny myself pleasure either,” he said, amused. “You’re fine. Now, how about we meet on Sunday? I’ll have time to figure out a full meal and gather all of the ingredients.”
“Great!” You ignored the heat that still lingered on your face, “I- um, do you need me to bring anything?”
“Nothing at all, I’ll make sure to take care of everything. All you need to do, sweet girl, is bring yourself and an appetite.”
You stifled a pleased smile at the term of affection. “I’ll make sure to do that,” sparing a glance to the clock, you frowned, “I should probably get back to work on those essays.”
“Why don’t we work on them together?” He suggested. “My colleague is notorious for drowning you in his work. I can help you sort through it all and you can have a restful Saturday without Micheal’s added stress.”
“I really can’t ask that of you. You already have enough work as it is.”
“We’ll work together. First your work, then mine. What happened to never denying my pleasure?” 
Your eyes widened, but you laughed all the same. Maybe a while more in his company wouldn’t be so bad. “Fine. Hold me to my words, but it’s only going to cause you a headache. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. These new kids are… something else.”
“They’re nothing,” he stood, grabbing his papers in one hand, “Meet me in my office. We can be more comfortable there and I may have stowed away a bottle of wine.”
“What would I do without you Doctor Lecter?”
-
“You have arrived at your destination,” the robotic voice informed you as you parked.
You took in the mansion of a home. It was too big for someone that lived alone. The thought made you shiver. Homes should be filled with life, not empty space. Then again, he was a fan of dinner parties, extravagant ones at that, so you supposed there was life in those walls on occasion. The home itself reminded you of the houses in old movies. Ones where the lightning would strike at just the right moment as a warning to stay away. But this was real life and there was no lightning, just a sun setting on a near perfect day. 
Without a warning telling you to keep away, you grabbed the gift bag and stepped out of your car. He had said to bring nothing, but you couldn’t resist a simple gift. The ties in the bag had taken out a decent chunk from your pocket, but he deserved them. Between agreeing to give you cooking lessons and helping you out with grading every so often, the simple pieces of fabric meant nothing. Besides, it was a two way gift, he’d get more of the patterned ties he was fond of and you’d get to see him in the darker colors you liked on him, knowing he’d feel compelled to wear them to show you his gratitude.
Knocking on the door, you waited a couple of minutes before he emerged. “YN, just in time. Please, come in,” he stepped to the side, “I’ve looked forward to this all day.”
You smiled and stepped past him. “I have too. Entertained myself a bit today by finding you a gift.” 
“Darling, you shouldn’t have.”
Nervousness bit at you slightly, a bit self conscious they’d be too cheap for his taste. Too late to back out of it, you handed over the bag. “You’ve always been so kind and I really appreciate everything. Let me do something for you.”
He set the bag on the nearby table, laying out the ties to get a better look at them.  “They’re all lovely,” he ran a finger across the fabric of a maroon one, “Fond of me in darker colors, YN?”
“What can I say?” You shrugged, “We catch ourselves spending a lot of time together. Why not make you a decent piece of eye candy?”
“Inappropriate,” he chided you, before signaling you to follow after him.
“You just wear them so well, Doctor Lecter.”
Shrugging off his navy suit coat, he draped it over a chair, making quick work of rolling up his sleeves. “Ready to get your hands dirty, my little sous-chef?”
“What are we making?” You asked, looking at his kitchen wide eyed. It was definitely bigger than your measly studio apartment. 
“Frisee aux lardons, duck with a pomegranate-citrus glaze. I took the liberty of preparing a blood orange sorbet for dessert.”
“I have a proposal.”
“Yes?”
“We don’t do any of that and just have dessert for dinner.”
“No,” he gave you an amused glance, “There’s more pleasure in waiting for things. Why don’t you start washing up the vegetables and I’ll start preparing the duck?”
You stuck your tongue out at his back but set to your work. “This is what I get for befriending a charming old guy.”
“Keep going the way you are and our next meal together will be langue d’Agneau en papillote.”
“That can’t be a threat if I don’t know what that means,” you quipped, setting aside an endive. 
“It means, darling,” he pointed his knife at you, “The fondness I feel for you is an inconvenience. Nonetheless, it’s welcomed.”
You smiled at him brightly, as you brought the washed vegetables over to him. “I’m fond of you too, but you gotta stop flirting and teach me how we’re gonna cook Daffy here.”
He motioned for you to grab a cutting board and a knife of your own. The two of you worked in quiet harmony, occasionally he’d tell you exactly why he was doing something a certain way or just give you simple instructions and let you have a hands on feel of exactly how to prepare something. It was nice to see him in his element. Hannibal seemed much more content in his kitchen than any where you had seen him at the college. Eventually he set his work to the side and washed his hands. 
“You’re cutting them too thick. Thinner is better for this dish.” He stepped behind you, “Do you mind?”
“Go ahead.” You attempted to move to the side, but Hannibal had already caged you in between himself and the counter. His cologne was different from the one you were accustomed to him wearing, but the subtle spice of it gave a more homey feeling to him. 
Hannibal grabbed your hand that had yet to  let go of the knife. He made sure to show you how to cut them the right thickness. “See? A little thing can unbalance everything.”
“Hm,” you hummed, catching yourself relaxed against the man, his frame strong against yours, “I don’t see much of a difference. Pretty sure this is just your variation of a putter.”
“You assume I have hidden motives,” He acknowledged, looking down at you, “And if there were any?”
Taking the bait, you pressed a kiss to the side of his jaw. “I wouldn’t be too upset.”
His head dipped into your shoulder, taking in a breath. “What happened to not wanting to bring on complications in our friendship?”
“We only have weeks left with each other,” you shrugged, “There wouldn’t be any complications. Not really.”
“We really should get back to making our dinner, darling,” he sighed, almost seeming reluctant to pull away, “What else did you did you do today?””
It took you a second to respond, still shaking off the embarrassment. You weren’t sure what had compelled you to do that. When you looked up at him you grimaced. Grabbing a napkin, you carefully wiped away the lingering lipstick. “The ties were the more interesting part of the day, I didn’t plan anything eventful. Honestly most of my day was taken with trying to recall the shop you mentioned that carried the ones you liked.”
He hummed in appreciation, “You also managed to pick out two I have had my eye on. I’ve got new suits coming in soon that will pair perfectly.”
You beamed at that, happy he did actually like what you had chosen. “Lucky guess. It was difficult remembering the ones I had seen you wear.”
Hannibal made to grab some ingredients and set them on the counter near the stove. “Have your parents tried calling you this weekend?”
You sighed, sure you didn’t have to tell him the truth but you wanted to, he had a compelling thing to him that made it easy to just speak. “I sent them money for rent. Which was honestly the dumbest thing I’ve done in a while.”
“It wasn’t idiotic,” he stated, setting to work on making the pomegranate sauce as you watched, “They’re you’re parents. It’s only natural you worry about them. Though, I do worry they’ll think of you as a person that doesn’t stick to her word.”
“I know, I really meant to, but the thought of them out on the street. It’s not my responsibility, but I’m just so used to being their adult.”
“It’s difficult to detransition. You worry for them as they should worry for you.”  He checked over a pan he had been heating, “That’s perfect. If you could please..” Grabbing the plate with the duck you set them on the pan. “With duck it’s important to render off the fat. A low heat is necessary.”
You nodded, “Low and slow, got it... You know, I’m not sure they worry about me at all. I mean- I know they don’t. It should hurt, but it’s just a fact of life.”
“They didn’t give you an opportunity to be a child. When you were supposed to be in the most carefree moments of your life, they burdened you with the responsibilities of an adult.” He held out a spoon with some of the pomegranate sauce for you to taste. “Any pain the notion inflicted on you has been killed with time.”
“There are still moments though. Suppose that’s common enough, isn’t it Doc?” You leaned in, allowing him to feed you, “That tastes amazing. I really should have paid attention.”
“It’s simple, I’ll write it out for you later.” Casting the sauce aside, he set a pot of water to boil. “Very common. We aren’t too dissimilar when it comes to how quickly we had to grow up. Very different reasons, but the fall out isn’t much different. Our paths left us in places where we’re very much alone.”
“What happened?” You asked, realizing that he had known a great deal of your family and you had known nothing more past how his day had gone or his preference of coffee. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
“I don’t.” Hannibal went to fill two glasses with wine. “I was very young when my parents died. My father had implemented in me that, if anything were to happen, I was to take care of my mother and sister. Which meant I had grown fiercely protective of Mischa when the time came. Soon I was acting more as her father than a brother.”
“Where’s Mischa now?” You asked, knowing at the very least she had to be in her late twenties.
His lips set into a frown, he took a quick drink. “Lost her sometime after. There was a lapse of judgement on my part and she suffered because of it. My days have often been shrouded by the thought that I could have done better by her. The ways I failed burdens me significantly.”
You rubbed his arm sympathetically. “I couldn’t even begin to imagine that pain.”
“It’s something I never wish to experience again. Losing someone you love so dearly, it changes a person.”
“I’m sure you tried your best. You’re a good man. I’m sorry you had to go through all of that when you were so young.”
“You think too highly of me,” he patted your hand on his arm, “Far better than I deserve. Still if my childhood had taught me anything, it’s to value those I hold dear. Such as yourself.” 
“I’m glad we found each other. Even if it is for a short while.” You watched as he stepped back into the rhythm of cooking. Maybe you weren’t any help to him but watching him work was comforting. 
He raised a brow, “Just because the amount of time we physically see each other will diminish, doesn’t mean we need to completely break apart. I’d like to have you at my dinner table later in life.”
“I’d like it if we kept in touch,” you replied, looking at a small box on the counter. The small black beads glimmered in the light, calling at you to take a peek. A neat row of recipe cards in his impeccable penmanship, numbered as high as 120 but there could have been more. “That’s sweet,” you mused, looking at the back of a card, noticing a couple had business cards on them, “You keep track of your friends’ favorites like this?”
“Friends, acquaintances, business partners. It’s difficult remembering everyone’s preferences. When I have dinner parties I like to make sure there’s a bit of something for everyone.”
“Hm, well I’m sorry I don’t have a card for you to have.”
When everything was said and done, you helped Hannibal set up the plates to have dinner. The conversation became light as you laughed along to the better memories of Mischa. From his smile it was easy to see he adored the usually shy girl. You never pressed on to find out how she died, simply choosing to bask in his soft smiles and laughter instead of entertaining curiosity. It was easy to see he rarely talked about her and you were grateful that he found that much comfort in you.
Some time later he was sitting at his harpsichord, playing a self composed melody as you browsed his shelves. There was an almost familiar calm in the air, like this was a usual happening and it would simply just happen again. A naturally reoccurring moment. You found comfort in his presence too. 
You looked up from the shelves when you heard his sigh. “I can’t seem to master this melody,” he stated, “The ending never sounds right.” The annoyed demeanor contradicted his lax look. At least lax for him. His vest and suit jacket had been discarded a while ago leaving him with a popped button, loosened tie, and rolled up sleeves. “I may just leave this one in the air.”
“Sounds perfect to me,” you said, walking over to him, “Though we can be our own worst critics. I know I’m mine.”
“It sounds… forced. Almost as if it’s reluctant to work with me.”
“Forced things just need time.” You placed your hand on his shoulders, digging in your thumbs to relieve the tension you felt. A soft groan as he let his head lull back to rest against your stomach. “Time is all you need sometimes. I thought you would have learned that already, old man.”
He opened his eyes, raising a brow at you. “Always with that mouth.”
You smiled down on him fondly, something- probably the wine in your system -thought about pressing a kiss to his forehead right then. “What can I say? It has a mind of its own.”
“I do prefer when it’s otherwise occupied,” he stated, closing his eyes again.
Your fingers dug a little deeper at that, caught off guard. “And yet.”
Hannibal played a couple soft notes, seemingly testing the waters for his next attempt at getting it to sound right. “And yet.” The first melody seemed almost innocent, but was followed by a second seemingly stalking after it. “Would you mind putting on a record? It seemed I’ve grown bored with music of my own.”
“Sure thing, Han.” Giving his shoulders one final squeeze you pulled away from him. At the record table you browsed through his selection. Hannibal was still composing as you decided to go with a record that looked more worn than the others, figuring something well loved would help him out of his frustrated state. Setting it on the platter, you gave it a brief once over with the anti static brush, knowing he’d probably be attentive to that type of thing, and dropped the needle. The music filled the air as you took in the melody. “Very you.”
He let out a soft chuckle, abandoning the harpsichord, in favor walking over to you. “Very me, indeed.” Hannibal took the record sleeve out of your hand, setting it down on the table. The music’s build up reached. “Would you give me the honor?” His hand was stretched out toward you.
You gave him a sheepish smile, “Afraid I’m going to have to disappoint. I’m not much of a dancer.”
“I’ve been told I’m a wonderful teacher,” he pressed, a charming smile on his lips, “We all start somewhere. Let me be yours.”
A soft laugh bubbled from you as you took in his look of boyish excitement. “You’re not allowed to complain when I step on your toes.” You placed your hand in his. 
He gave a gentle squeeze to your hand. “If you’re too terrible, I’ll show you the way I taught Mischa. You can stand on my toes as I try to help you commit the movements into muscle memory.”
“Handsome and a comedian.”
“I try my best.” Hannibal gave you a gentle spin as he pulled you closer. A kiss was pressed to your hand before he placed it on his shoulder. “Now, just follow after me,” he instructed, placing his hand on your hip.
The moment could have made you fall for the man as you danced with him throughout the room. Toothy smiles and teasing winks were sent your way the couple of times you stepped on his toe. Soon enough, you figured out the pace and learned how to follow through with his unspoken plans. Still, ever the novice, you managed to place your foot in a way that sent you both stumbling to the floor.
Hannibal held you close to his chest, ensuring you didn’t get hurt in the fall. “Oh my sweet girl,” he laughed, “we are going to need more practice.”
You hid your face against his neck, ignoring the fact that he could feel how hot your face was getting. “You want more of that?”
“You were doing perfect, YN,” he stroked your hair sympathetically, “One misstep isn’t something to be embarrassed about.”
Taking a deep breath, you shifted off of the older man, opting to sit beside him on the floor. Hannibal followed suit, leaning back on his elbows. “I really am going to miss seeing you regularly,” you admitted, reaching out your hand to push back the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. 
“We spend much of our time together,” he acknowledged as he looked at you curiously. “In the kitchen-“
Your eyes widened slightly, “We don’t need to talk about that i-it’s fine. No hard feelings.”
“Romantically or physically?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Do you see me as a romantic or physical conquest?”
“I, um,” you opted to look at your fumbling hands, “I’m honestly not sure about romance… especially considering… everything and my experience when it comes to romance. Never really thought past- I’m talking too much.”
Hannibal’s hand tilted your chin up, forcing you to look him in the eye. “Oh? What happened to the confident girl in the kitchen? Don’t go shy on me now.”
“I was high on your cologne, you can hardly blame me,” you rambled, “It pairs with mine nicely I think.”
His thumb stroked absentmindedly at your jaw. “Such a sweet little thing you are… Now, tell me, YN, what couldn’t you think past?”
“You,” you offered lamely, “Mostly nights when I needed to relax. You’d cross my mind. I’d wonder how you felt. How’d you do things. Maybe you’d like to leave bruises only you’d ever know about…”
“There’s something special in knowing what others don’t,” Hannibal acknowledged, “I do enjoy my lovers wearing my marks, hidden from others view and only acknowledged by myself. As it should be, I’m certain you agree.”
You swallowed thickly at the implication of being marked as his solely. The idea of having normal conversations with him at the college with evidence of him knowing you well burned against your skin. Maybe you’d see if you could convince him into one particular fantasy Friday night had conjured. 
He rested his thumb against your bottom lip, bringing you back to him. “I’ve had thoughts of my own… I wonder… Have you ever wrapped a hand around your own neck?” Hannibal smirked at the way your lips parted in surprise as he felt the heat rise to your face, caught in a way you hadn’t expected. “Sweet girl, were you desperate for me?”
You went to lick your bottom lip out of habit, instead finding the pad of his thumb. “Yes, sir.”
“Darling,” he sighed out softly, almost disappointed, “we could have sorted you out this entire time, if you’d only ask politely. There would have been no need for you to imagine, creative as you might have been. You always put everyone’s needs before yours, but where does that leave you?” Hannibal his thumb pressed against your lips lightly, humming in satisfaction when you let him in, already so compliant. “All you have to do is ask. What would you have me do tonight?” A soft pop sounded in the room as he pulled his thumb back, smearing your spit onto your lips and chin. 
“Just tonight?” The words rolled out of your mouth thoughtlessly. 
A soft laugh. “Maybe more, if you behave.”
Hannibal threaded his hand into your hair, pulling your head back slightly. Leaning closer he took a deep breath, taking you in, before leaving a simple kiss against your neck. His warm breath fanned across your face as he kept you in anticipation. Finally he graced you with a feather light kiss, so quick you weren’t sure you even noticed. You didn’t have time to feel ashamed of the whine that had escaped when he started to move away. Following after him, you caught him in an urgent kiss, threading your own hands in his hair to make sure he’d stay close. Hannibal bit at your bottom lip, his tongue sliding in the second you gasped. You ignored the sting and slight coppery taste. 
Sure you had had your fair share of ventures. It was only natural to crave the attention for the night or a couple hours. However, Hannibal didn’t feel like any of your past partners. His kiss was unrelenting and passionate. Quickly he learned exactly how to kiss you to ensure you’d moan into his mouth. You weren’t sure how long had been spent like this. Lips on lips. Someone’s wandering hand trailing down the other’s body. The growing need. Every movement slowly became bolder. Hannibal took the time to pull you onto his thigh, closing the distance between you even more. He kissed along your neck until he found a spot that made you buck against him. 
“Please,” you sighed out, not really knowing exactly what you wanted, but having faith that he’d give you just what you needed. 
Hannibal leaned his forehead against yours, “Are you sure about this, darling?” 
It wasn’t time for contemplation though, everything was already set into motion. He had just asked out of politeness. His hands moved to your hips, he dragged you against himself in a way that clouded your mind. “You’re very convincing,” you said with a shuddered breath. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you matched his rhythm. At the moment everything in the world was him and you couldn’t find it in you to mind. 
“You came to me,” he pointed out. His hand tugged at your shirt and you allowed him to pull it off. Fingers raised goose bumps along your skin as he followed the fabric of your bra to unclasp the material.  
“Could you blame me?” You kissed the side of his jaw for the second time this night. The lipstick mark left behind wasn’t as embarrassing when you were half undressed on his lap. A blush blossomed in your chest as you watched his darken eyes take you in.
Hannibal kissed along your chest. His hand made its way into your pants, drawing slow circles on your clit. Your soft moan and jut of your hips urged him for more. Before you could ask, he thrusted two fingers inside of you, the pace changing every so often as he took in your reactions. You leaned your head against his shoulder as you grinded against his hand. Soft whimpers were muffled by the fabric of his shirt. 
“Come on sweet girl,” he used his free hand to pull you off of his shoulder by the hair, “you shouldn’t be hiding. Look at me when I’m touching you. Don’t you want to be my good toy?”
You nodded meekly, unable to make a smart comment when you saw a smirk settle on his lips as a too loud moan took its place. 
“That’s it, no one can hear you,” he teased as he worked at the spot harder, his thumb rubbed at your clit. “You seem very close, what if I…”
As he went to move his hand, you grabbed his wrist to stop him. “No, no, no. Please, I’ll be good for you.”
He chuckled, but didn’t say a word as he brought his pace back up. Instead he chose to revel in your soft sounds and the way you had to focus to keep your eyes on him. Finally, he decided keeping you on the edge was enough and allowed you to cum on his fingers. 
“Clean up your mess,” he said as he thrusted his cum coated fingers into your mouth, “There you go, good girl.”
You watched him as you sucked his fingers clean. Bringing a hand down you palmed cock through his pants, fully intending on returning the favor. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”
“I’m afraid that status isn’t going to change anytime soon.” Hannibal kissed your pouted lip. “Don’t worry, I fully intend on taking care of you. Come, let’s make you more comfortable.”
As he stood, Hannibal offered you his hand to help you up. You followed him through the home to his bedroom, a place you didn’t think you’d end up but were more than pleased to see. Still you weren’t exactly taking in the sights when you were pulled into a rougher kiss as he led you toward his bed. A not too gentle push to your chest landed you on top of it. Leaning back on your elbows, you watched as Hannibal took his time undressing you fully. 
“You don’t play fair,” you complained, shifting yourself higher on the bed, away from him, “I like a pretty view too you know.”
He smiled, looking down at you fondly, “Very well, but only as a reward for earlier. I know you struggled.”
You smiled at that, shaking your head, “Come here won’t you?”
There wasn’t any time wasted when he settled on top of you, you didn’t have his patience. Your hands worked on his tie and buttons as his lips and teeth trailed across your chest. A subtle grind against your pussy had your thighs squeeze his waist. Pushing his shirt off, you felt down his chest, still surprised by how muscular he seemed to be underneath it all. You wondered if he’d stop you as you reached for his belt.
“That’s enough. I don’t think you’ve earned it just yet.”
An annoyed huff was all you could manage. 
“All in its time, darling.” A surprisingly gentle kiss was dropped on your cheek. “Can you manage waiting a while longer for me?”
You resisted the urge to nuzzle against him, unused to such soft displays from past partners. “Yes, sir...”
“Always such a sweet, polite thing.” 
Hannibal kissed and bit his way down your body, ensuring there would be evidence of him the next time you saw yourself in the mirror. He allowed you to thread your fingers in his hair, giving him a soft push down when he took too long marking you in one spot. It wasn’t much longer until Hannibal was level with your thighs, he pushed them further apart. A moment passed without anything before you remembered his rule. Willing yourself up you looked down at him, catching a wink before you were rewarded with a broad lick. Hannibal sucked your clit, pressing your hips down when you grinded against him. 
A helpless noise was the most you could do.
He bit your thigh, his fingers immediately making their way back inside of you, targeting the spot he had quickly learned turned you to putty. 
“You really are beautiful like this,” Hannibal acknowledged, “Completely at my mercy. Desperate for anything I’m willing to give you.”
There wasn’t any time to think up something to say as Hannibal’s mouth replaced his fingers, silencing any words that weren’t his breathy attempts of his name and pleas. Teeth grazed against your clit and a soft moan of his own was enough to pull you closer. 
“Please, daddy,” you begged, too far gone to be embarrassed by your slip, “I’m close…”
Hannibal was merciful, helping you finish as quickly as you had asked. Maybe at another time he would have teased and made you hold on longer but there was only so much patience he had. Especially when there was such an eager lover begging him. You watched him, dazed, as he came back up, his hand gripping at your jaw.
“Open.”
Doing as he wanted, you opened your mouth, instantly receiving a mix of the still lingering wine he had drank at dinner and you. He watched as you swallowed.
He let out an almost dreamy sigh. “So pliant.” 
Hannibal kissed you, finally allowing you to get your way as you pushed off the last clothes. You pumped him in your hand, working up the courage as you shook off the daze he had left you in. He was definitely the most talented partner you had had.
“We don’t have to go any further,” Hannibal reassured you, kissing the side of your mouth, “I’m perfectly sedated watching you.”
You shook your head immediately, not wanting him to think you were hesitant. “I want to, college guys aren’t so giving, just needed some time to clear my head.” As if to prove your point you gave him a squeeze, that made him thrust into your hand on instinct. “I just feel bad you’re doing all the work.”
“I prefer it,” he groaned quietly, as you thumbed at the slit. Hannibal rolled so that you could be on top of him, “But if you insist…”
A soft laugh. “That was hardly the fight I was expecting,” you muttered teasingly, kissing his jaw. 
“My patience is running thin.”
At that you straddled him, your hand lining him up with you. His hands held you steady as you sunk onto him. The both of you moaned softly when he was fully inside. Hannibal slowly grinded you against himself as you adjusted to his size. Hands against his chest, you started riding him in earnest. 
“That’s my good girl,” he praised you, his fingernails digging harder into your hips. 
“Yours,” you whimpered, too enthralled in the feel of him to pay any attention to the weight of what you were saying. His groans underneath you encouraged you more than anything. “All yours.”
Hannibal sat up, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you firm against him. His soft kiss was a contrast to how roughly he was working himself into you. You couldn’t find it in you to care that he had taken control again. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him do as he pleased, just enjoying the way his hands and lips would travel across your body. Teasing, pinching, biting everywhere he could reach.  Your chest alone would be covered in marks left behind by Hannibal. That would be a problem for the future you to deal with at the moment you were too preoccupied with begging him for more. He’d slow his thrust whenever he felt you close to the end, chuckling lowly at the whining sounds you had made.
“Give daddy one more sweet girl. I know you can.”
You moaned loudly, giving Hannibal exactly what he wanted. When he wanted. Drained, you fell limp against his shoulder. Every small sound you made broadcast directly to him as he used you for all your worth. His arms tightened around you when you tried to pull away from the over stimulation. 
“Daddy’s close,” he promised, his accent thicker than usual, “I’ve taken such good care of my girl. Be good for me.”
Nodding, you dug your nails into his shoulders. You could be good. He had been so good to you after all. Still your vision blurred and it had taken a while longer for him to finally go still inside of you. 
Hannibal kissed the side of your head, before pulling you to lay down against him. His thumb wiped away the stray tear that had managed to fall. “You did so well for me. Are you alright? Do you need anything?”
You sighed sleepily, curling into his side more comfortably, “I’m alright. Just want you.”
“We’ll take care of you later,” he promised, seeing how tired you were, “You should rest, darling. I’ll be right here.” His hand rested on your hip, thumbing at forming bruise gently. Between the soft touch and his quiet humming, it didn’t take long for you to find sleep. 
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thefanficmonster · 3 years
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Corpse’s Girl
Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)
Warnings: Bullying, Swearing, Derogatory Terms
Genre: Angst, Fluff
Summary: Y/N’s life as a regular college student is forever stripped away from her when her relationship with the famous YouTuber Corpse Husband is accidentally revealed during an online class of hers. How will she cope with the sudden spotlight and the unwanted attention, some of which crosses into bullying?
Requested by my amazing Tumblr friend @itsminniekat 🥰 She’s been reading and liking my works since day one and I honestly couldn’t be more grateful. If you’re reading this, all I can say is thank you, darling. Thank you so much for sticking by my blog even when I posted some crappy fics. I’ll make sure this ain’t one of them. Love you with all my heart. ❤❤❤
P.S. - I named the mean character with my name so I hope no one who reads this has the same name. Wouldn’t want any of you feeling like the villain 😘
Who knew online class would be even more boring than being physically present for a lecture? Seriously, I find myself doing the weirdest of crap to entertain myself - like trying to balance a pen on the tip of my nose for example. I jot down some notes every now and then but that’s basically it. My mind can not fathom the concept on concentrating on whatever my professors are going on and on about. Well, full disclosure, I couldn’t concentrate even if I wanted to, especially with my boyfriend streaming in the other room.
He’s currently playing Among Us with his usual gaming squad. Listening to his input during the discussions, I can always tell when he’s lying. I honestly find it hilarious that his friends can’t pick up when he’s bullshitting them. I sometimes wonder if he has brainwashed them. And that’s one of the main reasons we don’t play Among Us together - he can’t lie to me. Not only do I pick up on his con with ease, but he always says he feels bad when he lies to me which is just the sweetest thing. Also, I refuse to play cause I’m shy. His friends are all well-known content creators and I’m a literal nobody. Every now and then I find myself wondering why Corpse is even with me. He’s always quick to push those thoughts out of my head and make sure they don’t return on a long notice, but they do interrupt my peace from time to time.
“Y/N, do you know?“ The sound of my professor saying my name takes me out of my eavesdropping of Corpse’s stream.
I panic, but quickly improvise, “Sorry, my internet is slow, you cut out for a second. What was the question?” I feel my face heating up, making me glad we are allowed to keep our cameras off.
“Question number 15 on page 82 in your textbook. Do you know the answer to it?“ My professor repeats himself, his tone annoyed.
I look down at the page that’s already opened in front of me. I let out a sigh of relief, seeing that the question is rather easy.
“Yeah, um, it’s...“ Suddenly, Corpse’s laugh reaches my room loud and clear. There’s no doubt my mic picked up the noise, especially since the door to my room is open.
The color drains from my face as I hurry to say the answer and remute myself. My eyes are wide as I stare at my screen, hoping no one will acknowledge that very recognizable laugh.
“OMG Y/N, are you watching a Corpse Husband stream in class?” One of the bitches in my class, Vy, speaks up, “Not a very goody-two-shoe move on your part, dear.” 
I purposely unmute my mic to mumble a quick ‘Shut up, bitch’ that somehow manages to fly under my professor’s radar and the class continues. It’s the first time something like this has happened and I’m not sure if I handled it properly or not.
The class ends shortly after, allowing me a sigh of relief as I disconnect from the meeting. 
“Fucking finally.“ I mumble to myself, leaning back in my desk chair. Tilting my head backwards, I see Corpse standing in the doorframe. I grin, not only because his presence itself makes me ten times happier, but also because he’s upside down from my viewpoint. “Well, hello there! How long have you been spying on me?“
He struts over to me, leaning his face over mine, “Long enough.” His lips linger above mine without any actual contact before he pulls away, allowing me to sit up straight and proper in the chair. “You still have classes?”
I nod my head while disappointedly rolling my eyes, “Yeah. One more. Shouldn’t be too bad since it’s English Lit. You’re done streaming?”
“Yeah, I just have some other things to do. I haven’t done a narration video in a while, I miss making that type of content.“ He plops down on my bed, running a hand through his messy black curls.
“Weren’t you recording some lines a few days ago?“ I frown as I try to recall if what I’m referring to actually happened or my brain is too fried to decipher reality from my bootleg perception of it. Online class, man - messes with your head like sleeping pills - makes you disoriented and exhausted with barely doing anything other than trying to wrap your brain around a lecture or two.
He hums affirmatively, “It’s not a finished project and I don’t even know if I’ll use those or rerecord them. I’ll have to listen to them again before I make a final decision.“
I tilt his chin upwards with my pointer finger, a gesture he has told me he finds very endearing, “I’m sure they’re great and you just refuse to be satisfied. Everything you do is great.“
He smiles a small, shy smile, his fingers gently wrapping around my wrist, holding my hand in place, “You’re biased. You like me too much to tell me when I do some bullshit.”
I scoff, “You know that isn’t true. If someone’s gonna kick your butt in formation, it’s gonna be me.“ I give him a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling away from him, “Go on, now. I have a class to attend. You distract me enough while you’re in the other room, I can only imagine how hard it’d be for me to focus if you were right by my side.“
He smirks, bowing a little as he makes his way out of the room, “You flatter me.”
I playfully roll my eyes, getting my headset back on as I tap the last class for the day. We have an assignment due to the start of the class which we’ll have to present if the professor approved of it. We basically had to write a psychoanalysis of a character from any book of our choice. I chose Heathcliff from ‘Wuthering Heights’ which is one of my favorite books of all time. I’m proud of what I wrote and the way I wrote it, but I’ve always barely scraped by with a B in this class, a B+ if I’m lucky, so I’ve never gotten any major credit, even when I put my 110% in the assignments and projects.
Well, color me surprised when the professor calls on me first to read my work, complimenting it on its detailed and specific nature. I get my printed assignment out in front of me and unmute myself.
“I wrote a psychoanalysis on for Heathcliff, a character from Emily Bronte’s novel ‘Wuthering Heights’.“ Just after I say this line, Corpse’s voice booms throughout the whole apartment, no doubt being picked up by my mic. It doesn’t sound like he’s actually talking, he can’t be that loud. I put two and two together when I recognize the lines he’s saying - the ones he recorded a few days ago. They’re coming from his computer speakers. He probably didn’t check the volume before playing back the recording.
I mute myself as quickly as possible, but it’s too late. The voice dies down as Corpse probably turned down the speakers.
My professor, who is already done with this lecture, just annoyedly remarks, her words overdosed with sarcasm: “Read your assignment and you can go back to whatever it is you are watching.”
“Wow, Y/N! Again?! Are you one of those crazy obsessed fans or something? Is Corpse Husband all you watch?“ This bitch is really poking a stick at me, huh? The only crazy obsessed fan here is her, and my friends but they are allowed. Little do all of them know, I am obsessed but not simply over a YouTuber. I’m obsessed with my boyfriend who just happens to be a YouTuber.
“No commentary, please.“ The professor scolds her, “Go on, Y/N.“
I finish reading without any other disturbances. The professor compliments my essay again when I’m done, the small incident at the beginning forgotten already. Well, not by everyone. One of my friends shot me a quick text to joke about it which only earned an eye roll from me.
My friends don’t know that I’m dating Corpse either. As I said, they are simping HARD over him while I act the most indifferent on the subject. Whenever they ask my opinion on him I either say ‘he’s OK’ or just avoid answering completely. I know saying anything more enthusiastic than that would turn into a snowball rolling down a snowy hill - I’d just keep babbling about how nice, amazing, wonderful and a gift to this world Corpse is, inevitably revealing our relationship in the process.
I’m afraid of revealing my relationship with Corpse in front of these people. They are all run on jealousy and selfishness and I can only imagine how mean they’d be about it. I’m already not too fond of them, it would only be worse if any of my personal life was exposed.
When the class finally ends I remove my headset, putting my forehead down on the desk, barely missing the keyboard. I groan in frustration and anger at myself for not fighting back. I could’ve and should’ve said something - ANYTHING. But what? That’s a question I can’t find the answer to.
“Hey...“ Corpse’s hesitant voice comes from behind me, “You ok?“
I straighten my posture, turning to him with a smile. “Yeah, but these people suck.”
I get up from my chair as he approaches me, basically falling in his arms. The comfort I feel radiating off of him makes me relax, forget the past hour or so. He has always had this effect on me. Like my own personal kryptonite to my anger and anxiety.
“Did I get you in any trouble because of that?“ His voice shows clear concern and guilt. 
I wrap my arms around him tighter, burying my head in his chest. “No, don’t worry about it.“ 
And I really wasn’t in trouble. Not until now that the video is officially posted....
I can call these people dumb all I want but they sure put two and two together awfully fast. They recognized the lines they heard during class as the same ones from his new video that came out almost a week after the incident, aka two days ago. It’s safe to say I haven’t touched my phone or computer since.
“This is all my fault.“
Of all the horrible things I suspected would happen this has to be the worst - Corpse is blaming himself for it. I am prepared to take all the shit these people have to throw at me but seeing Corpse beating himself up over this is killing me. No amount of convincing can change his mind. Nothing I say helps.
“Please, stop doing this to yourself. Non of this is your fault, Corpse.“ I’ve repeated this sentence more than a thousand time these past forty eight hours, each time saying it more and more desperately.
“All of it is my fault, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I hate myself so much.“ Has been his reply single time.
 I can’t watch him be so mean to himself. It’s the most conflicting thing when the person you love most is torturing themselves. It’s easy if it’s someone else doing it, you just kick their ass. But what are you supposed to do when the person you want to protect is the same one you need to protect them from.
Corpse has shut himself away in his recording room these past few hours and though he clearly needs to be alone, he still left the door open just a crack cause he knows I’ll be worried sick otherwise.
While I’m alone in the living room, I’ve finally managed to brace myself and build enough courage to power up my laptop. Last time it was on it was going mad with notifications.
“It’s digital. Only digital. It can’t hurt you too badly if it can’t touch you, right?“ I mumble to myself, already frustrated despite not having yet seen all the horrors that await me.
And horrors there were. Everywhere. Twitter. Instagram. Facebook.
My grades. Some pictures of me no one has ever seen. My school files. People from my class tweeting Corpse to ‘expose’ me for the ‘slut’ or ‘bitch’ I really am. Corpse hasn’t touched social media either and I plan on making sure it stays that way. God only knows how much worse he’ll get if he sees these claims.
And then, like a notification sent straight from hell, an email from my professor.
Practical lectures on Friday. Be here at 9 AM. Don’t forget your mask and gloves.
Good thing I opened my laptop when I did. Friday is tomorrow and I need to prepare for this day. Not only do I need to hit the books but I need to toughen up a bit. I can’t go there looking like I feel - like a mess.
Alright, time to put the brave face on. No more wallowing in it, at least not until tomorrow afternoon.
I make a study plan and hop in the shower. I feel the need to apologize to my hair for washing it so roughly, basically yanking at my strands from frustration that has been suppressed for too long.
I get our of the boiling hot shower, red as a lobster, and change into some clean comfortable clothes and put my ass in study mode. I remove all the scary expectations of the morning to come from my mind and let the information the textbooks has to offer seep into my brain.
                                                            *  *  *
I’m about to head out and, despite my put-together composure, I am a wreck inside. I actually put effort into my appearance, I mean - I even styled my hair. A pretty façade to hide a ruin.
I saw my friends’ texts last night, all three of them ending their friendship with me because they felt betrayed. I haven’t yet decided how to feel about that. Doesn’t matter at the moment, there are more important matters at hand, aka surviving the next three hours.
My college is within ten minutes walking distance from our apartment. That ten minute walk has never been so stressful, not even during exam season. The air feels a little harder to breathe, the path a little shorter to walk. And my moment of reckoning a little too close.
I feel eyes on me the second I start walking through the park of our campus. Sure, I could just be paranoid, but the feeling is too real to be just my imagination in overdrive. I’m glad I have my hair down and a mask on so the redness of my cheeks and neck isn’t on display. That’s a sign of weakness right now.
We have two an hour and a half long classes between which we have a snack break that’s half an hour. I usually enjoy that period but I’m dreading it now. These assholes can only be so mean in the presence of a professor, but during lunch break they can increase that tenfold. 
“Well if it isn’t Corpse’s girl.“ I hear that a lot. The whispers are not so much whispers as intentionally loud enough for me to hear remarks. I’m not bothered by them, it’s the least they can do. If I let such a simple thing get to me, I’d be crumbling by the end of first period.
I hear some shuffling behind me and out of the corner of my eye I see, yeah you guessed it, THAT bitch. She’s standing as close to me as she can without violating Covid regulations. A mask is covering her face but the menacing look in her eyes tells me all I need to know about the interaction that’s about to go down.
“I’d ask how much he pays you for the hour.....“ her long nails tap the wooden desk, “but that’d be rude. I bet it’s tough being a maid. Do you just clean or are you a multipurpose lap dog? No offense, I’m genuinely curious.“
“Vy, would you be so kind as to give Y/N some room to breathe?“ The professor asks as he nonchalantly walks in.
Vy rolls her eyes, batting her eyelashes at me, “Talk to you later, sweetheart.” With a fake friendly wave she’s out of my hair, at least for now.
Remember what I said about these people not being as dumb as I pegged them to be? Yeah, scratch that. These fuckers actually tried getting away with taking pictures of me with flash in broad daylight. Like, HELLO! I have two functioning eyes and a brain, I’m onto you. Sadly, me having figured out their childish but hurtful methods of humiliating me doesn’t change much. They still posted the pics they took, using the most derogatory terms they could find in the English language, always making sure to tag Corpse and me both.
Needless to say, these were the longest three hours of my life.
                                                              *  *  *
Shutting the door to our apartment behind me causes relief of the highest levels. I feel like I’ve locked out all the bad shit I have had to deal with these past twenty four hours. 
I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted. I feel like a discarded piece of paper. 
And it all starts crumbling. A wall is bound to start slowly falling apart after being hit over and over again, each time feeling the blows with a stronger intensity. 
I slide down the door sitting down on the floor and slowly taking my shoes off. I put my bag beside me and wrap my arms around my knees, hiding my head in the space between them and my chest.
One tear slides down my cheek.
Another follows.
And another, this time accompanied by a choked sob.
A pair of arms wraps around the ball that my body has been shaped into. One of his hands comes up to stroke my hair gently, feeding me the comfort I have been longing for since I left the apartment this morning.
“I saw it. All of it. All the shit they talk about you. All the names they call you. And I’ve never wanted to beat so many people up simultaneously.“ His words make me raise my head from its low position, giving him a knowing look. “I wish I could. I would, but that would land me in jail. Which doesn’t even sound so bad cause I don’t like going out. Only problem is you wouldn’t be with me. I wouldn’t want you to be there with me, don’t get me wrong, I’d never want you to end up in jail. I-...” I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. A quick kiss that says so much but mainly shows the immeasurable gratitude for his support.
Seeing those awful tweets and comments had the complete opposite effect on him. He no longer blames himself but the people who actually deserve the blame - all those jerks from my college.
I pull away, giving him a small smile. “I would never let you go to jail.” 
He smiles back at me, overjoyed that my mood is slowly being lifted, “Come on, I have a nice crowd that would like to meet you.”
I know exactly what he means. Felix, Sean, Rae, Dave, Sykkuno and the rest of his friends. The people I’ve been so shy and afraid to meet since day one. Being shy doesn’t really make sense now, seeing as how they know I exist and that I’m a part of Corpse’s life. 
What do I have to lose?
“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.“ Corpse’s black avatar runs around my cyan one in the Among Us lobby.
I can’t help but giggle when I unmute my mic, “Hi everyone! It’s so nice to finally meet you.“ They each introduce themselves, expressing how happy they are to be meeting me too.
It’s the first time in what feels like a while that I’m truly having fun. These people are wonderful, each so unique and lovely. They never brought up the scandal nor acted as though they knew about it. I know they did and I am beyond grateful that they never mentioned it or treated me any differently because of it. Also, Corpse was streaming the whole time. I had my phone on his stream, my eyes nervously scanning the chat every now and then. I couldn’t believe it. Corpse’s real fans were just as wonderful as his friends - they were nothing but supportive and happy to have met me.
Now, I can either choose to believe these people were being so nice to me out of sympathy or I can believe they really like me and appreciate me for who I am and not for what happened to me. 
I choose to believe the latter.
And while I’m still getting accustomed to this whole new spotlight, I know I’ll be able to handle it as long as I’m holding Corpse’s hand in the process. All I need is to have him beside me and I’m prepared to tackle anything.
“They love you.“ Corpse tells me once the stream is done and we’ve hopped out of the Discord call, “But I love you more.“
His arms wrap around my waist while mine instinctively find their way around his neck, “I love them, too. But they’re at the number 2 spot.”
He smirks at me, “I wonder who’s at number 1.”
I push up on my toes, putting my lips an inch away from his, “Hmm, I wonder...”
He doesn’t let me finish, silencing my teasing with a sweet, loving kiss.
@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat
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spencersawkward · 3 years
Note
if you feel comfortable with it, I’d love a prof Spence where reader is a student and goes to office hours to initiate ~smutty goodness~ but Spencer is reluctant at first bc his job but they flirt more and eventually sleep together
me n my professor kink when i saw this: 😏 anyway yes i am quite comfortable writing about this lol. i took some ✨creative liberties✨ with your request so i'm sorry if it isn't exactly what you wanted! 
summary: reader is a student in Dr. Reid’s class, but she’s been something of a poor student-- office hours are the only solution.
relationship: Fem!Reader/Professor!Spencer
content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, rough sex, super brief hair-pulling, creampie, dirty talk, spanking, age gap, degradation-- he gets pretty dominant oops.
word count: 4.5k
masterlist
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popping in a piece of gum, I make my way to the back of the hall. there are a few people here already, but it's a little early. I'm never early. in fact, I'm usually late; my other class is on the other side of campus, and getting here involves a lot of embarrassing speed-walking.
but here I am, five minutes ahead of schedule and actually in a decent seat. as I flip open my textbook and pull my laptop out of my bag to prepare to take notes, my gaze slides down to the corner of the room, where Dr. Reid is standing up with a pile of papers. he walks over to the girl in the front row, handing her the stack and gesturing for her to pass it along.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. he's a total luddite. the first day, Dr. Reid spent about ten minutes rambling about the importance of reading from a physical book rather than online sources-- which, although I definitely agree with, means a lot more lugging around folders and organizing all the readings he gives out. if he wasn't so hot, I would have switched into another course.
and I know it's wrong to be daydreaming about my professor slamming me into a wall while he discusses the intricacies of quantum theory. the complete cliché of it is embarrassing. but still, I just can't stop thinking about him: how his fingers would feel around my throat, the smooth wooden surface of his desk against my cheek as he bends me over and pulls my panties to the side--
"glad to see you've decided to join us, today, Ms. Y/L/N." Dr. Reid's voice startles me out of my thoughts. he's standing towards the front of the room while students file in. his hands are resting in his pockets with his eyebrows pleasantly raised.
"glad to see you've noticed." I retort, too irritated with his comment to care about being polite.
a couple people look at me. even though I'm generally not on time, he tends to just glance my way when I walk in and leaves it at that. I know he doesn't like it, although I personally don't care. I hate this course.
he seems visibly surprised by my response but doesn't reply, gaze lingering on mine before he turns to speak to a student trying to get his attention. I bite back a smile. fucking asshole.
as usual, Dr. Reid writes in his thin, messy lettering on the board while wandering around the front of the room. he's quite fidgety, even though his voice doesn't betray any sort of nervousness. it's like he's naturally overactive.
every word out of his mouth is enunciated, sometimes spoken faster when he gets particularly impassioned by the subject. he's interesting to look at, too. messy curls and a nice suit, stubble that straddles the line between refinement and ruggedness.
I type quickly, but it isn't fast enough and the strange illustrations he does on the board only complicate things. I try to write them down in my notebook, but my handwriting is jagged; sometimes it's hard to read. when a student raises her hand for a clarification, I take the opportunity to catch up.
my head jerks up as soon as I'm finished and he's looking at me while he speaks. even from so many feet away, the intensity strikes me. he's gesticulating and crossing the room. I hold eye contact.
I wonder if he dates often; a couple of the girls in my row always stare at him throughout the lectures. he seems to be completely unaware of the effect he has on people. sometimes I'll see him in the hallway and he has his nose buried in a book, or a to-go cup of coffee, or both. either way, there seems to be no more room in that head of his for romance.
which, naturally, makes me curious about how he looks when he's on the edge of orgasm. if that composure is replaced with a contorted pleasure. I want to break him.
it's like he can read my thoughts, because Dr. Reid averts his gaze. my stomach twists with a strange anticipation. he avoids looking my way for the rest of the time.
towards the end of class, I start to pack my things to go. I have three papers to write, and my utter lack of interest in this is making me eager to leave. I shove my textbook into my bag the second my professor starts to make closing remarks.
"don't forget that we have a midterm in two weeks!" he says in a slightly louder voice as people start to move around. "if you have any questions, my office hours are posted on the bulletin board outside."
at this, my eyebrows rise. I forgot about the midterm. I have a study calendar set up for all my subjects, but I've purposefully been putting this one off. I'm not super into math. and it doesn't help that most of my time is spent not listening. when I am, it doesn't make sense.
as I stand up and gather my stuff, I hear someone clearing their throat a couple feet away. my head turns to see Dr. Reid leaning against his desk.
"Ms. Y/L/N, can I see you for a second?"
my heart stutters in my chest. is this about my attitude? he's never asked to see me outside of lessons before.
I frown, making my way to him with a deliberate pace. the tension in the room builds as I watch the last of his students shuffle out of the room. my head turns from the door to him; my breath catches a little in my throat at the set of his jaw. part of me hopes I get yelled at.
"I'm concerned about your participation in this class." he says. his voice isn't cruel, but it is brutally honest— which is worse. participation? I feel my fist clench at my side. my professors don't usually say anything if you aren't doing things up to their expectations; if you aren't, then they give you a bad grade. simple as that.
"is this about me being late?" I ask. he lets out a sigh before answering. he sounds disappointed.
"you're constantly tardy, and when you hand in your homework, you barely seem to have put in the effort. it's messy."
"messy?" I start to get annoyed. I'm only doing this so that I can get my degree. it's a fucking requirement. even though I'm not the biggest fan of mathematics, I still do my best and hand in my assignments on time. plus, the latest I arrive is five minutes-- it's not like I'm stumbling in halfway through the lesson.
"you've never come to office hours to ask for help or explained your lateness, which I, as your professor, would have appreciated." he scolds. honestly, I don't know what to say. my eyes narrow.
"I have my studio class on the other side of campus." I explain. "I should have emailed about that and I'm sorry, but I'm also not being lax about my work."
he goes around to the other side of his desk and glances up at me while he organizes some loose documents to pack away. he looks way too good when he's exasperated: his hands tighten around the papers, his eyebrows come together in this cute way. his tie is a little crooked, too.
"are you struggling with the content?"
"sometimes, yeah. but I can handle reaching out for help if I need it." I reply. he's pissing me off with these questions. I can see from the expression on his face that he's surprised by my reaction.
"really?" he slides some books into his messenger bag. that was definitely sarcastic; I know it was. "because it doesn't really seem like you have."
"I like to find help on my own." I shoulder my bag and cross my arms over my chest. there's no way he's gonna talk to me like that and expect me to not respond in kind.
"I'm reserving a slot on Wednesday evening for you," he looks up and holds my gaze. hazel irises that dare me to challenge him further. "I want you in office hours so that we can figure out how you're gonna catch up before the midterm."
"fine." I turn on my heel and leave. I know I'm not supposed to talk to my professor like that, or even to behave with such apprehension. but something about him makes me angry in the kind of way that settles in my stomach. I hate that he's right. I'm not going to do well on that damn test if I don't get some help.
but that doesn't mean I can't have some fun with it.
when I rush into his office on Wednesday evening, the sun is just starting to set through his window. there's a pinkish glow that smooths over Dr. Reid's desk as he glances up at me. I had to run to get here.
"you're late." he nods to the clock on the wall. I roll my eyes.
"only one minute, though. I had another class."
he sighs and folds his hands on his desk. "how are you doing today, Ms. Y/L/N?" a strangely polite question for the look on his face. he's frustrated with me.
"I'm quite well, Dr. Reid." I smile brightly, slightly excited by the anger on his face, and sit at the chair in front of his desk.
"I didn't know you were interested in art." he says simply. I'm confused for a moment before I remember that I told him that the course before his is a studio lesson.
"I didn't know you cared."
"do you make a habit of that?" he quirks an eyebrow.
"of what?" my expression is saccharine.
"being rude to people who control your grades."
"unless you're considering being unethical in your practices and allowing your personal opinion of me to influence my grade, then no." I counter. he's silent for a moment, taking in my words like they've left a mark on him.
"well, you'd most likely fail if I asked you to leave my office hours right now. whose fault would that be?" he fidgets with his hands and leans forward just a bit, his voice dropping to a lower tone. I bite back a smile.
"you wouldn't."
"and why is that?" he baits.
"because you're not a shitty professor, Dr. Reid," I lean back in my chair and cross my legs. "as angry as you are, you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you kicked me— a struggling student— out of here for giving you a little attitude."
"a little attitude?" he scoffs. "you've spent the whole semester completely ambivalent."
"not completely." I shrug.
"Y/N, you draw all over your tests and leave at least one problem half-finished every time. you obviously aren't learning." he chuckles mirthlessly. I concede this point; I like to doodle when I'm bored. and there's absolutely nothing more boring to me than numbers.
"okay," I sit up and rest my elbows on the edge of his desk, staring at him. "then teach me."
Dr. Reid holds my gaze for a long moment. we're suspended, it seems, as his lips part and he finds himself speechless. the way I said the words obviously has another layer to it-- he just has to decide whether or not to take the bait.
"what are you struggling with?" he clears his throat and sits up a bit straighter in his seat. that answers my question, I guess. I poke my tongue between my teeth gently, but then pull out my notebook and flip it to a page with some problems outlined on it.
"these." I toss the thing onto his side and he begins to run through the assignment. I watch him pick up a pen and start to explain the steps, slipping into his usual educational tone. his shoulders relax a little as he writes.
I can't see right from the angle I'm at, so I stand and come around onto his side. I hear him pause his speaking for a moment at my proximity, but he doesn't move away.
"does that make sense?" he asks me once he's finished running through the first problem. he basically did all the work. the professor's head turns to gauge my reaction to the explanation, but his eye line is right at the hem of my skirt-- which is already pretty short. for all his attempts to be subtle, he gulps and looks up at me.
"mostly." I brush a piece of hair behind my ear and pretend to scratch at a spot on my upper thigh, dragging the edge of my skirt with it until he can see the smooth skin beneath, practically begging for his touch. "can I ask you a question?"
"sure." he keeps his eyes almost too focused on mine. I try to hide the smile tugging at my lips. now or never, I guess.
"what's your policy on professor/student relationships?"
"my-- my what?" this time, he's audibly scattered when he turns to me. his eyes are wide, dark. even he can't hide his feelings.
"you know," I run my fingertips over the tweed shoulder of his jacket. I can sense the tension beneath his clothes. "like, your policy on fucking a student."
"I--" his cheeks turn pink. he's flustered, albeit not rejecting my touch. "I've never had to think about it before."
"hmm," I look off to the side as if considering this point. his chair is fully turned to face me now, and I'm standing in front of him, almost completely his for the taking. all he has to do is close the gap. "well, what are you thinking about it right now?"
"it's wrong." he stumbles over the words.
"why?"
"well, I mean, you're a student--"
"for a semester that's almost over." I cut him off. he opens and closes his mouth. I take a deep breath, toying with the hem of my skirt. "I know you've been looking at me during class."
"w-what?"
"you're pretty good at hiding it, but you call on me a lot and you get all messed up when I hold eye contact too long during lectures." I say.
he looks down and back up apologetically. he's just sitting there, lap wide open. so I do what any sane girl in my position would do: I climb into it, straddling him and resting my arms around his neck. he sucks in a breath.
"you pretend I'm such a pain," I lean down by his ear, my core drawing over his pants. he tenses as I speak. "but you like that I'm your little problem."
"Y/N..." he trails off, but his hips are bucking up into mine.
"see?" I look between our bodies at his movements, then at him. I smirk as I look into those lust-darkened eyes. after a moment of him not speaking, I straighten. "look, I'll leave you alone if it really bothers you--"
as I start to get off his lap, he grabs me and pulls me back down. the force hits my center at just the right angle and I let out a slight mewl. he hears the sound and before I can register the pleasure, he grabs my face and yanks me closer to kiss him.
god, he feels so good. I rock my hips against his while our lips pass over each other hungrily. so much tension built up over the past few months, so many thoughts I've had of him, now coming to fruition. it's amazing.
"not so 'wrong' now, is it?" I chuckle against his mouth.
"shut up." he orders. one moment of broken contact to slide my top over my head and throw it on the floor.
I sigh as he starts to kiss across my jaw and down my throat. "I like when you talk like that, Dr. Reid."
one hand grips my hips tighter and he releases a groan against my skin.
"is that why you're such a fucking brat in my class?" he bites my collarbone and I moan. "because you want me to put you in your place?"
"mhmm." I hum. his fingertips move under my skirt, sliding up my thighs and toying with the waistband of my panties. he teases me by grazing my slit over the fabric, inhaling sharply at the wet patch.
"sitting in the back of my room, fucking dripping..." he mumbles to himself as he starts to rub me.
"touch me." I breathe out, trying to gain the friction that I need.
"not if you're gonna be a brat." he removes his hand and I let out a frustrated noise as I try to find the pressure I need elsewhere by grinding down on him. he grunts at the way I pant into his mouth, trying to kiss him with every chance I get. his lips are so smooth and sweet against mine. there's something affectionate about it even in its ferocity.
"I'll be good." I practically beg.
"that's what I thought." he slides his tongue over his bottom lip as he watches me whimper on top of him.
"come on, Spencer..." I use the name for the first time and he grabs my face in his hand, squeezing my cheeks.
"not my name, sweetheart." he stares into my eyes expectantly and I smirk.
"you're fucked up, doctor."
"so are you."
after he says that, he lifts me off his lap and stands up, pushing between my shoulder blades until my face is pressed onto the desk. I let out a needy whine, wiggle my ass back in hopes of finding his crotch, but he's not willing to give me that, yet.
instead, he gently touches my skirt, flipping it up so that he can see my ass. immediately, he starts to knead it. my palms are pressed flat against the desk with anticipation, silently thankful that my panties are still on. I think I'd be dripping down my thighs if they weren't.
"are you gonna be more respectful?" his voice is low, one hand tracing over my back. I shake.
"mhmm."
"I won't spank you if you don't use your words, sweetheart."
"yes." I choke out, no longer wanting to give any sort of resistance. I had no idea there was this side of him, and I love it.
he loves it too, apparently, because his hand comes down sharply on my ass. I yelp at the contact and he runs his fingers over the point of impact, rubbing the flesh gently.
"too hard, baby?" he checks.
"harder." I beg. I can't see his face, but I can sense his smile as if it's my own. his palm hits me again, and I gasp.
"you like being punished?"
"yes." strangled and desperate.
he slips his finger beneath the fabric of my panties, collecting my essence and letting out a quiet moan when he feels me. I push my hips against his fingers, partly expecting him to remove all the pressure, but he doesn't bother waiting.
he slips his index inside and I gasp. starts to push in and out, his silence proving his arousal. I can practically feel his eyes on me. the pace increases a bit and he slides in his middle finger. I buck against the desk.
"oh fuck!" I cry out as he starts to go faster. he curls them against my walls and I arch my back.
"two fingers and you're already breaking?" Spencer chuckles as he moves inside me. he keeps one hand on my ass while he does it, starting to finger me at a ridiculous speed while I pant and moan and cry.
"I--" I gulp down air. "I need you in it."
he bends down by my ear, never breaking his rhythm. my legs are shaking from the force. "you need my cock?"
"yes," I feel myself closing in around him. "god, yes."
"you're lucky I wanna fuck you so bad." he mutters. I grin as I hear the clink of his belt coming undone, the sliding through the belt loops, the sound of him stripping down to nothing. I can feel my excitement on the inside of my thighs, spread around by his reckless fingers as he removes my panties and skirt.
he grinds himself against my pussy, coating himself in me, while he releases low, longing moans. I suck in a breath when the head pushes in, every inch pushing me open a little more. I don't have the ability to form words, so I bite my lip and grip onto the edge of the desk until my knuckles turn white.
his breath stops for a moment before he groans.
"so ready for me."
he's not even all the way in, and he has to pause to let me adjust. when he taps the inside of my thigh for me to part them more, I do it quickly and beg him to fill me up. I can barely take the pressure between my hips, but it burns in an inviting way.
"keep going." I direct him. he runs his hands over the curve of my waist and starts to thrust into me at a rate that leaves me panting. it's not too fast or slow, just impatient and needy. every sound that spills from his lips turns me on more.
"where'd the attitude go, huh?" he digs his hips into mine. his cock hits my cervix and I squeak against the wood, but he holds my back down. I don't even try to argue with him, too overcome with the pleasure that's coursing through my limbs. he starts to build up his speed. "don't have much to say when you're getting fucked?"
"Dr. Reid--" I moan.
he plows into me so hard, the desk shifts on the floor and he grabs my ass with both hands.
"take it, baby. fucking take it."
I get up on my elbows to look behind me, just to glimpse how he looks as he gets closer. his curls have fallen more in his face, and his shirt is gone. I want to touch him desperately, to feel the lovely skin of his torso and arms and everything else, but he keeps me down for the most part. all I get is the sight of his mouth open and his hips moving quickly against mine.
"look at me, there you go." he grabs my face and holds me there, our eyes locked. mine are welling at the sheer overwhelming pleasure inside, but his are dark and intense. they search mine for something I can only hope to offer.
"that feels so good, Dr. Reid." I pant. he bites his lip as he watches my mouth hanging open in lecherous shock.
"I bet it does," he explores my body. "coming in here, hoping I fuck you like you deserve. you're lucky I'm going easy on you."
"thank you." I whine.
"you might need some extra lessons, yeah?" he grunts out, moving into me with a bruising force.
"yes, please." I whisper. my voice is practically gone at this point, my mind entirely focused on the knot building in my stomach.
"what was that, baby?" he pulls my hair gently.
"yes— fuck— yes, please, Dr. Reid."
"what a beautiful girl." he smirks. I whimper when he runs his fingernails down my ribcage. I can feel it coming from the way he starts to move tumultuously, every thrust pushing harder and seeking more release. it's fervent, how he takes me and grips my hips like the force itself will push him over the edge.
"I'm so close..." I breathe out as I try for as much friction as I can.
"show me," he drops down so his stomach is flush to my back. "show me how you cum, Y/N."
the way he says my name-- husky and warm and full of lust-- causes me to snap. I cry out as he reaches around to clamp a hand around my mouth, climaxing and pulsing around his dick as I drop down against the surface again. I want him to finish inside, so I do my best to keep him here. and his thrusts are getting more staccato as he chases the sensation my walls create.
"can I fill you, angel?" he asks. he's breathing right by my ear, and the feeling is sending shivers down my spine. I love how his weight feels.
"yes." I moan and he slides his fingers into my mouth. I suck on them while he orgasms, jerking into my pussy and letting out unholy sounds of ecstasy. he says unintelligible things in the throes of his orgasm. pounds into me until I'm sure I won't be able to walk tomorrow.
"jesus christ, Y/N." he slows to a stop. when he pulls his cock out of me, the absence makes me whine. I miss his body already.
"oh my god." I clench my hands into fists as I try to catch my breath. I'm still bent over the desk as though I've been completely sapped of all my energy. I suppose I have. he doesn't touch me for a moment in the spirit of letting me recover from the small shudders still running over my skin.
"that was great." he says after we've both had time to fill our lungs. I push myself onto my elbows again.
"correct." I grin and straighten up more until I'm standing. he stares at me, at the cum now dripping down my legs, entranced.
"let me get you something to clean up." he snaps out of it a little. I can't stop looking at him, either, in love with the way he moves and the way he breathes after exerting himself on my body.
"come here." I bite my lip. for some reason, despite what we just did, this is scarier than everything else. he steps closer and I reach up, kiss him softly. part of me worries that he'll pull away and be terrified. maybe that he'll tell me that I've read too much into this.
he's much gentler than before. our first kiss was full of need and primal desire, but this is more affectionate. I remove myself from his embrace.
"okay, you can go now." I giggle. his fingertips linger on my waist and he smiles. I push his shoulder. "I literally have your cum all over me-- go."
"fine." he starts to put his clothes on.
"does this mean I get an A?" I joke. Spencer shakes his head.
"nice try. when we're done cleaning you up, we're gonna sit down and figure this out."
I let out a whine, and he kisses my cheek before looking me in the eyes. "it'll be fun. I promise."
"math is not fun."
"I can't believe I like a girl who doesn't enjoy such a beautiful subject." he rolls his eyes and I giggle. he's perfect.
976 notes · View notes
whorangdan · 3 years
Text
pretty boy
part one of what i'm hoping will be a series. i decided not to split this so it is a bit lengthy, i apologize.
around 3.7k words, shy!virgin!joshua, praise kink, slight finger sucking, blowjobs, overuse of the word pretty, pretty boys being pretty, reader is shameless, joshua's a wreck, soonyoung cameo at the beginning, sorta proofread, sorry for any mistakes xx
you've always taken a liking to the pretty boy living in the apartment across yours. you've seen him around campus and had him for one of your classes so it wasn't like you were a total stranger, you two had interacted before. like the times the two of you left your apartments at the same time and awkwardly bowed your heads towards each other before the both of you went your respective ways.
you had to admit, the boy was cute. his black hair messily fanned across his forehead, and you've seen the way his eyes slip into crescent moons whenever you catch a glimpse of him smiling during class. you'd be lying if you said he didn't interest you.
deciding to get closer to the pretty boy, you approach him during class. from the short talk you had with him you found out two things. 1, his name, joshua, and 2, he was valedictorian of his graduating class in highschool.
you had given him your number, passing it off with some shitty excuse of "if any one of us ever misses class we can catch the other up, yeah?"
luckily for you joshua didn't seem to think twice about your lame excuse. he nodded, chuckling as you saved your number into his phone. you cursed your heart as you felt it flutter at his laugh. damn it.
______________________________________
the next time you saw him was at a café. he was a few people ahead of you in line. the boy picked up the hot chocolate he ordered and made his way to a table in the corner. cute. your thoughts were interrupted when someone behind you coughed, signalling for you to order. embarrassed, you mutter an apology and quickly order your drink to catch up to him.
"hi joshua! is it alright if i sit here?" you asked warily, slightly afraid he would say no. but of course, this was joshua hong.
he nodded, "of course. i was going to get in some extra studying before my next class but this is okay as well!"
"oh shit i'm so sorry. i could leave if you'd like?"
joshua brushes it off, "oh no you're fine, i've prepared enough, really!" he returns the smile you pass him and you feel your heart soar.
the rest of your time at the café is filled with mindless chattering of the project your professor assigned, the upcoming exam for your class, and joshua's work habits. you learn he loves being involved on campus, joining clubs and helping out when he can. you also learn he doesn't really take many breaks from school, instead opting to head to his apartment right after work.
"you really don't go out? not even by yourself?" you wonder, curious to how he even survives. junior year of college isn't the easiest. joshua blushes, not wanting to seem like a complete loser.
"well...i..i go to the shops a lot? to get food and stuff...and i go to the park a lot too? when i want to relax..." he trails off, not being able to think of anything else. his cheeks are red and he's shuffling nervously, awaiting your reply.
you simply smile. "that's cute, joshua. is it enough for you though? like, is it ever enough to feel completely free? sometimes it's good to forget about school, you know. there's a lot more to college than grades and studying," you tell him, sipping your drink. "not that it's a bad thing to focus on that stuff, of course." you add, not wanting to make him feel bad.
"i-i mean yeah..." he chews on his lip. "i'm kind of used to it all, i've been like this since highschool. sometimes it does become too much but there isn't really anything i can do about it." he finishes. you hum, impressed by his work ethic but also feeling pity for the poor boy.
"if it works then it works, nothing wrong with that. how about work?" you play with the straw in your drink.
"i work here, actually. it's not the most money, but it's enough for me to buy what i need, with a few dollars extra to buy miscellaneous items." he replies and as if on cue, an employee from the cafe strolls up to your table.
"hey, josh! you working later today?" the boy, who you recognize as soonyoung from one of your classes, wipes the table next to yours with a rag.
joshua nods, "after class, yes." soonyoung looks to you, stopping his cleaning.
"oh, hey y/n! i didn't know you knew joshua. small world, isn't it?" soonyoung laughs at his own comment.
joshua looks between the two of you, his brows furrowing. "you two know each other?"
"i have him for physics," you say at the same time soonyoung says, "i have her for physics!" the both of you stare at each other before soonyoung laughs and walks away, muttering something about how the world works in crazy ways.
you look over at joshua and he shrugs, sipping on his hot chocolate. you end up walking out of the café until the two of you need to part ways.
"see you in class, y/n!" joshua walks off hurriedly and you watch as the bunny keychain on his bag bounces with each step.
__________________________________
the two of you seemed to click together instantly and spent more time together than you first thought you would. you had a habit of going out together on the weekends and although at first it took an embarrassingly long time convincing joshua that it was okay to actually leave campus, now it's something he suggests himself. and it wasn't rare for joshua to spend the night over at your place, usually when the two of you are staying up late studying, but there are also times when joshua invites himself over, claiming he can't sleep. you don't understand how you help with that, especially since he sleeps on your couch on those nights but hey, you could never say no to him. you have been to his place before but most of your time together is spent at your place, seeing as you always have a full fridge.
of course with all positives come a negative, and you find your feelings for the pretty boy have become increasingly harder to ignore. through your time with him you've also learned he's incredibly fun to tease. the boy flushes at the mere mention of sex and doesn't seem to have any idea of even the basics. of course you aren't stupid and know very well what that means but joshua's always quick to shut any idea of him being a virgin down.
"i have done stuff before, y/n! i p-promise!" though the way he shuffles on his couch screams otherwise.
you chuckle. "i believe you, joshua, i swear. it's just fun to tease you like this. you become a blushing mess and it makes me want to ruin you." you tease, not really realizing the impact of your words until you notice joshua's cheeks flare up.
"...wh-what—what did you say?" joshua stutters, not daring to look up from where he's staring down at his hands.
"i was joking, shua! i wouldn't do anything to you if you didn't want me to." you laugh. hearing that makes joshua flush even more, your choice of words causing him to believe you want to do things to him.
"a-and...and if i wanted you to?" he admits after a couple minutes of silence. sighing, you take his shaking hand into yours.
"then i would do anything you'd ask. so long as you're okay with it." you shrug. joshua's mind is spinning, jealous at how you could be so casual with this while he was shaking like a leaf. it wasn't fair.
joshua slowly lifts his head and looks you in the eye, a look of determination settled on his face. "i want you to," his shaky voice betrays him and you smile fondly, reaching a hand up to stroke his cheek. "to ruin me." he finishes.
"you're so cute, joshua. really, you are. have you ever kissed anyone, pretty?" the new nickname has joshua almost whimpering, not used to this kind of attention.
he shakes his head, "n-no...i haven't really...done anything...with anyone..." his head drops in shame.
you lift his head to look at you, staring into his eyes. "there's nothing to be ashamed of, pretty. i'll take care of you, if you allow me to." your words have him shuddering and he nods, so desperate already.
"i need words, joshua." he swears he almost moans then, biting his lip and managing to form a shaky yes.
dragging your hand to his neck you pull him in for a kiss. his lips slot against yours and you can tell he's nervous by the way his fingers tap against his thigh. you intertwine your other hand with his in hopes of calming his nerves. luckily it seems to work, his kisses becoming less shaky.
as the kisses become hotter and more desperate you pull away and he whines, chasing your lips.
"it's okay, baby. just a little change of position." you drag his thighs to pull him into your lap and he yelps, hands coming up to grip your shoulders. joshua flushes as the nickname and the closeness of you two hits him simultaneously.
"is this alright, pretty?" you hum, bouncing your intertwined hands on his thigh. joshua opens his mouth to answer but his breath gets caught in his throat and you laugh. he's so unbelievably precious. joshua nervously smiles at you.
you pull him in for a kiss again, your hand going up to his hair. deciding to experiment a bit you tug at his strands lightly and he moans into your mouth. pleased, you pull his hips closer to you. you detach from his lips and kiss down his jaw and neck. little whimpers leave joshua's lips and you see him bite his lips as if to muffle his noises.
"uh-uh don't hide your noises from me, pretty boy." your thumb reaches up to tug his bottom lip out from under his teeth. joshua nods and you take the time to examine how gorgeous he looks right now. his lips are swollen from the kissing and biting, black hair messier than you could ever imagine, and a blush lays prettily on his cheeks all the way down to his collarbones peeking out from his shirt.
his eyes are glazed over with desire and need. when he looks down at your thumb you get an idea. hesitantly, as if to just test the waters, you poke at his lips with your thumb, circling his mouth. as if reading your mind, he slowly opens his mouth, allowing you to slip your thumb between his lips.
"suck." you order, the rest of your fingers curling around his jaw. joshua obeys, his tongue and mouth working together to engulf your thumb. his head bobs and when you apply more pressure to his tongue his eyes slip shut, a cute whimper leaving him.
"oh, you like that? sucking on my fingers like this? of course you do. does it make you feel good?" joshua's moaning at your words, his hips beginning to lightly rub against yours. you chuckle at his pathetic attempts to pleasure himself.
"already so needy? i haven't even touched you and you're already so hard." he whines against your thumb. taking your thumb out of his mouth you pull him into another kiss, basking in the way he moans into your mouth.
"let's head to your room, yeah? your first time shouldn't be on a couch." you tap his thigh and he shuffles off your lap, taking your hand and leading you to his room. walking in you realize you've never been here before, and suddenly you're reminded of who it is you're doing this with.
his room is very clean and neatly organized. you take a second to look around, taking it all in. his desk is filled with random school stuff and you catch a glimpse of his assignment from your guys' class. on his dresser you see cute little houseplants, some random bottles you assume to be colognes and perfumes, and what looks to be a projector.
"what's this?" you gesture to it, walking closer to examine it properly.
"it's a...it's a star projector...when you turn it on it lights up and fills the room with little stars...i like turning it on when i can't sleep..." joshua nervously mumbles, scared you might find it childish. instead, you smile and you feel your heart melt. god how much cuter can he get.
turning around you see joshua sitting on the edge of the full sized bed in the middle of the room. he stares up at you and you notice the way his eyes are still glossy, and when you see the tent in his pants you remember what you're here for. dragging him into a kiss you push him into the mattress and he moans against your lips.
you hold yourself up with one hand and reach the other around to tug at his hair, using his moan as an opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth. grinding down on his clothed crotch he whines pathetically into your mouth.
you pull away and rest your forehead against his to catch your breath.
"...please..." joshua begs, unsure of what he's asking for himself.
"what do you want, joshua? tell me what you want, pretty." you grind against him once more and he whimpers needily.
"i don't...i don't know..." his cheeks flare up and you're reminded he has absolutely no experience whatsoever.
"that's okay, baby. i'll help you. it's all about you today, so tell me what you want. we don't have to do anything you don't want to, you can say no at anytime." you reassure him, sensing how nervous he is. kissing his cheek you pull away, sitting against the head board. he makes his way into your lap and let's his head fall onto your shoulder.
"i don't think i'm completely ready for it yet...i'm sorry y/n..." he trails off and you swear you hear him sniffle. your hand reaches up to card your fingers through his hair, pulling him away from your shoulder to face you.
"hey, listen, shua. don't apologize. at all. it's okay. look at me," his eyes are still focused on your shoulder, not wanting to meet your gaze. he shifts his eyes to your face and you can see how desperate he is and how his eyes are laced with worry. "we don't have to do anything you don't want to."
he nods and you kiss his nose, then his cheeks, and forehead, and nose again until you're littering tiny pecks all over his face and he's smiling again. you kiss him again, more innocent this time, and you try to convey your feelings for him through this kiss, letting him know you care for him regardless of whether you two have sex or not. you can tell the message gets through to him by the way he shyly looks down when you pull away.
the scene would look incredibly awkward to anyone else. joshua's sitting in your lap, head on your shoulder, with you gazing down at him warmly. the mood is most certainly not matching the hard on in joshua's sweatpants. but you found it all the more endearing, and you weren't going to make anymore advances unless he wanted it.
joshua is reminded of the problem in his pants and he flushes once more. he may not be ready for the real deal, but he certainly wants to get off tonight. slowly, he grinds his hips. you don't even notice he's doing it until his breath hitches and he grips onto your arms for leverage, quickening his pace.
"..a-ah...i'm sorry...im just–" he's cut off with a moan and you nod at him, signalling you understand.
"i know, baby, i know. do you want a little help?" he nods furiously. you guide his hips a bit more, thrusting up to meet his moves. the friction has joshua's eyes rolling back, not used to such sensations.
"do you want to get off on my thigh, pretty? or do you want more? what more can i do hmm..?" you hum, stroking joshua's hair as he keeps up his movements.
he shakes his head, "help me, please. please help me—touch me please." joshua reluctantly slows his thrusts, staring up at you with his pretty eyes. smiling, you nod. grabbing his wrists you change your positions, now hovering over him.
you kiss down his neck, nipping and sucking at the skin. joshua melts into the mattress, his hands gripping the sheets. you play with the bottom of his shirt, looking up at him. he nods, lifting his arms to allow you to slip the shirt over his head.
you take a minute to admire his body. his torso is slim and his skin is even, small moles littering his skin here and there. he's so gorgeous, you think. you let your eyes wander up to his neck, hickeys beginning to bloom, a pretty contrast with his fair skin. you're interrupted from your thoughts when joshua makes a noise of embarrassment, hands coming up to cover his blushing face.
"don't hide from me, joshua. you're beautiful." you coax, grabbing his wrists to lower his hands. you smirk at the way he whines at the praise.
"th-thank you..." you stroke his cheek before continuing your way down his torso to his waistband. you thumb at his pants and he lifts his hips, allowing you to slip the sweats off his legs.
joshua's face is burning up, not used to being so exposed. you're settled between his legs, hovering over the pretty boy.
"you look so pretty like this, shua. such a pretty boy you are." joshua whimpers, your words of praise going straight to his cock. you litter a few more kisses on his torso, going lower until you reach his boxers. you give open mouthed kisses to his length, the dark patch by his tip spreading the more you toy with him. moaning, joshua thrusts up against your mouth.
"no no, pretty. patience. i'll take care of you i promise. good boys wait patiently, and you're a good boy, right joshua? you'll be a good boy for me?" you tease, removing his boxers completely.
joshua nods desperately. "y-yes...i'm a good boy...your good boy..." he whines at his own words, the praise becoming too much. his neglected cock lays against his stomach, precum leaking over the tip and onto his belly. the hair down there is neatly trimmed and for whatever reason that makes you smile. cute.
"of course you are, joshua. my beautiful good boy. waiting so patiently." his hands are moving about, not sure where to put them as he tries his hardest not to grind his hips up. grabbing his wrists you hold them above his head, pressing a kiss to his forehead while you're there. "keep these up here, don't move. you can do that right?" joshua whimpers, nodding.
letting go of his wrists you turn your attention back to his cock. giving kitten licks to the head you glance up, taking in all of joshua's needy noises and using that to motivate you. you leave little kisses on the head before you take him into your mouth, joshua's hips jolting in response.
taking his entire length in your mouth was quite easy, not that he was small or anything, but he wasn't the biggest either. joshua's moans spill out of his mouth, hips slightly bucking before you rest a hand on his hips, stilling his body on the bed. your tongue circles his tip while your other hand works on the rest of his length. the extra attention to his sensitive head has joshua whining, breath catching in his throat when you lick over his slit.
"feels good—oh god—feels so good..." you pull off his cock, your hand still stroking him. you notice the way his hands are still right where you told him to keep them, his eyes shut in bliss as your hand works to pleasure him. you find yourself smiling at how obedient he is.
his legs wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to him. leaning down you suck more marks onto his skin. joshua's moans are higher now, and with the way his hips are sloppily thrusting into your hand you're certain he's close.
"are you close, shua?" nodding, he opens his eyes to meet yours. "good boys ask for permission." your wrist works faster, thumb rubbing his slit.
"please...can i please...y-y/n...please can i cum..." he twitches against you, desperate for release. you jerk your wrist and joshua thrashes his head against the pillows, his thighs shaking with pleasure. you lean down to press soft kisses to his inner thighs, sucking marks onto the smooth skin.
"yes pretty boy, you can. cum for me, joshua." his back arches off the bed, streaks of cum coating his torso and your hand. you pull off when he's writhing from overstimulation, hands gripping the pillow above his head.
cute whimpers leave his lips when you clean him up, the post orgasm aftershocks combined with your gentle touches have him on cloud nine. joshua's eyes are closed, sweaty hair stuck to his forehead. as gently as you can you pull him into your lap, being mindful of how sensitive he still is.
you stroke his hair out of his forehead, caressing his cheeks while he comes down from his high.
"hello, pretty boy. you did so good for me, shua. you were wonderful." you coo when he opens his eyes, his lips turning upwards at your words. joshua opens his mouth to say something but he coughs last minute, throat scratchy from all his moaning.
"oh i'm sorry, pretty. here, drink up." you press a water bottle against his lips, guiding him. when he's had enough he pulls away, head immediately dropping back on your chest.
"how was it? did you enjoy it?" you question, intertwining your hand with his.
"it was good...thank you y/n." he smiles up at you, squeezing your hand. you return the smile, rubbing his back and coaxing him to rest. joshua's eyes shut and he drifts off to sleep.
sighing softly you shift your positions so joshua's laying next to you. he hugs your waist in his sleep, cuddling you closer to him and you wrap your hands around his naked waist. bringing the sheets up to cover the both of you, you let yourself rest as well.
---------------------------------------------
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universalistotalis · 3 years
Text
Stiff That You Love
Ushijima Wakatoshi (Timeskip!) x Female reader
Masterlist!!!
You never thought you'd see him again. You almost choked on the truffle pasta that you ordered in this café when a certain beautiful giant waved and made his way to you.
"Holy damn." You whispered underneath your breath as his strides made their way towards your table. You knew he was already a show stopper back then, but now???!
You were so sure everyone would drop dead at the sight of him.
"Hi." He greeted with his deep voice. "Do you still remember me?"
Surprise filled your expression at his question but you smiled politely and nodded your head. "How could I forget? How are you Ushijima?"
You swore you saw a glint of relief and excitement in his eyes but it immediately wavered as he motioned to the chair in front of you.
"May I?" He asked again, holding the back of the chair.
Is he really going to sit here with me?!
"Sure, of course." Your voice squeaked at the feeling of your heart bursting out of your chest. His greeting was enough to kick the air out of your lungs but a whole conversation?! You didn't know how long you would last in his ever- intimidating presence.
-
It was already the last year in college and you were so determined to graduate with latin honors. Every single minute of your life, you dedicated it to studies, friends and family. They were all that mattered. And so you stayed until the wee hours at certain café spots around the university or at the library inside the campus. You went to meet up with friends during the weekends only for a simple dinner or lunch. You called your family members every chance you get during free time. That was your life. And you were content.
But then this boy came in to the picture.
"You will be partnered together and I shall assign the pair. Make sure you finish the written output, video presentation, and oral defense at the end of the semester." Those were the words of your professor during one of your classes before yours and his name were called out together.
You swore it was fate. Romance was really not in the forefront of your mind but as they say, "You'll find it best when you're not looking".
AND MY GOD WERE YOU SO WRONG!
This man named Ushijima Wakatoshi who came out from nowhere, looking as good they come, had no ounce of romance nor funny bone in his muscular body. He was the most dense, most serious, most infuriating man you've ever met in your whole life!!! He was a whole perfectionist, always so blunt at his comments about the outputs that you showed him. He was also so strict with the deadlines, not considering that you had other classes than this that had much more weight and importance.
You were so close to giving up but...
"Y/n?" You knew that voice only belonged to the certain antagonist in your story right now.
Your hands trembled as you wiped the tears streaming down your face after your meeting together at the library.
"Ushijima, hey!" You pretended to be your usual chirpy self as you turned around to face him.
It was already late so the lights surrounding the university casted an unworldly glow on his face. He was always so breathtaking no matter where you put him but damn those looks! He was just as heartless.
"Are you alright?" He asked with a worried tone.
"I'm fine. I'll be going home now. See you next week." You excused yourself.
"Wait." His cold fingers caught your arm and that made you stop your tracks.
"Is there a problem, Wakatoshi?"
He bowed his head before slowly releasing you in his grip. "I wanted to apologize for my behavior."
"W-what?" You wanted to make sure if what your ears heard was right. He does not seem the type to apologize.
You heard another deep sigh as he looked at you. "I've always been told that I come off too much to others. I didn't realize it until recently when one of my friends told me."
"Oh, well..."
"I'll try to be better though. I'll be more careful from now on. And I'm really sorry if I ever hurt your feelings in the past." He said with all seriousness that you can't help but sigh and just nod.
"You can be really mean sometimes." You agreed and chuckled, letting a tear escape your eyes.
"You've been crying." He stated flatly as if he was reciting a trivia. "I'm still so sorry."
You giggled. "Yeah, I forgive you. Anyway, it's getting late, Wakatoshi. We have to head home."
"I'll walk you home." He said with a finality in his voice. You were again, surprised by his actions but just agreed because this was such a draining day.
And as you were nearing where you stayed, you were again surprised at how comforting his presence was.
--
You did find his presence after that night relaxing. He became more tactful and he started to insert jokes during your meetings which shocked you so much the first time that he felt a little offended. You became such close friends that his team mates in volleyball were again, shocked that he managed to get a friend outside the team. It was just a matter of getting used to, you thought to yourself. He's just so honest, mechanical, and straightforward to a fault and you got to master how to tell him off when needed. He also developed to trust you so whenever he needed advice, he would always go to you and trust your honest words.
Looking at him now, it made your heart warm at how far he'd come. It's amazing to have known him then. To have seen how he grew as an athlete, a student, and a person. He may still be a little stiff but that's just the Wakatoshi you've come to love.
"Soo..." He started while sitting back down again after claiming his coffee from the counter. "I am not disturbing you, am I?" He pointed at the laptop and papers next to you.
You laughed. "Not at all! I finished them anyway."
"How have you been then?" He asked. His elbows were resting on the table and his hands were holding on to the cup of coffee. The sight was a little funny considering his giant built was leaned onto a very small table.
You smiled gently. "I've been good! I got the job that I dreamed of having and I own some businesses too. Ho--"
"Your eyes sparkle the same way." He cut off.
"What?" You asked, surprised at his random comment.
"Your eyes..." He pointed out. "They sparkle the same way they did in college when you were talking about something you like."
"How did you notice that?" You laughed.
"I'm known to be observant." He smirked slightly, taking a sip of his coffee.
"Okay, Mr. Oh-So-Observant, how are your matches going? I've been tuning in since the first tournament and it looks like you're going to the semi- finals!" You cheered not hiding your pride and excitement for the country's national volleyball team. When you searched on how to watch the live games, you insisted that you were there to cheer for the country and definitely NOT to cheer and simp for a certain brown- haired, serious player. Definitely NOT!
"You've been watching our games?" He asked, eyes slightly widening at the thought of you cheering for him. What he didn't know was that you were always watching his games since college, not missing even one match. You were always there, crying at how proud you were of him. Also, crying at how much he could never be yours.
"Of course, I have, silly!" You chuckled and pointed at your laptop. "I've been watching here and you're just so amazing and strong!"
He suddenly paused at your statement, silently raising a brow at you and smiling softly.
"I- I meant that your whole team is amazing and strong." You clarified, a blush automatically painting the whole of your face and ears.
"Would you like to go tomorrow?" He blinked, setting down his cup on the wooden surface. "To the game, I mean?"
Your eyes widened at his offer. "Are you serious?!"
He chuckled at your reaction. "Of course! We're allowed to bring spectators for the games, I'll just give you the tickets."
"Wow, Ushijima, thank you so much! It's an honor!" You chimed excitedly, jumping a little on your chair.
"The honor's mine." He replied, grinning at you.
He already knew back then that you were one of a kind. No one ever really stayed and tried to understand his demeanor and personality but you did. You were so honest and kind and you always knew what to do or say to keep him at ease. You accepted him for who he was and he's so thankful to have met such a beautiful soul. Even when you were doing nothing, even when you're just sitting across this table from him, without you knowing, you already made up his entire exhausting day. Hell, you made up all those exhausting years of not seeing each other since you two graduated. He suddenly imagined if being with you would always be like this. So peaceful and just pure bliss...
"You've got to be shitting on me! Is that Ushiwaka?" The pair sitting next to the glass walls of the café was oblivious of the red- haired tower and group of men walking past the street. All of them were wearing coats and casual attires as they're planning to go for lunch at their favorite restaurant for a little reunion. The all powerful Shiratorizawa Volleyball Team, headed by Ushijima in high school, cowered like puppies at the name of their captain being mentioned.
"Where?!" Goshiki stopped and shielded himself from an invisible force. "He said he couldn't make it!"
"I guess our baby's growing up, look!" Tendou hummed and pointed at the two of you laughing and looking at each other with heart eyes. "I bet they don't know that they're shooting hearts at each other."
"I never thought he could smile like that." Semi whispered.
"Yeah well, he's been crushing on that girl since college." Tendou filled the silent wonder of the whole group. "That's why she looked familiar! He kept sending me photos of them together studying or something..."
"Studying, my ass!" Shirabu laughed as they continued staring and hiding behind a post at the same time.
They all burst out laughing and again Tendou chuckled. "No seriously, they were studying!"
"Yeah well, they look good together. I hope he'd have the balls to ask her out. Please god!" Goshiki put his hands together as if seriously praying.
"Bet you 10, 000 yen, we'd be attending his wedding two years from now." Semi challenged.
"Nah, I'll go with a year." Tendou offered.
The men casted their bets on how long you and Ushijima would get married. They knew their captain so well to be sure enough that he was serious with you. Safe to say, Semi won the bet.
--
Reblogs are appreciated! <3
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loeyparker · 3 years
Text
hurt her to save her - d.m
Tumblr media
pairing: draco x fem!reader
word count: 7k 
warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of death and torture
plot: getting closer to Draco during sixth year has consequences. Draco realizes that when he’s forced to hurt you in order to keep you safe from Voldemort
a/n: my HP obsession is back so I’ve returned to writing fics but i might have went overboard with this one lmao . it wasn’t requested, but if someone wants part 2 i’m gonna do it <3
Draco Malfoy had a very good memory. Besides being cunning and arrogant, he was also incredibly smart – which is precisely why he was second best in most classes. Behind the cold, uncaring façade the youngest Malfoy put out into the world however, stood a boy who remembered things he probably should have forgotten.
Lately, Draco Malfoy couldn’t remember the last time he felt anything but fear. He attempted to mask the feeling either with anger, determination or indifference but the true, raw feeling of fear was behind it all, much like a dementor guarding all his other emotions. The past summer planted dread and terror deep into his mind and the ink on his skin felt like it was seeping through his skin, entering his veins and poisoning his heart.
By the time he arrived back at Hogwarts for his sixth year, he felt drained. With the weight of the world on his shoulders, the young boy attempted to pretend to be a normal student, despite the countless sleepless nights and stray tears that sometimes escaped through small cracks in the emotional wall he’d built around him over the years. The tears only saw the light of day in the darkness of the Room of Requirement, where he found himself surrounded by old artifacts and silence.  
“Draco, Severus has been telling me you seem distracted.” The soft, yet scared tone of Draco’s mother rang throughout the empty, rotting room in the Shrieking Shack. Broken windows allowed for the wind to invade the abandoned building violently and loudly, and to dance around the three figures standing in the dark. It caused a shiver to run up Draco’s spine, but he couldn’t tell if the reaction came from the cold or from Narcissa and Severus’s stares aimed at him.
Draco felt so small under their gaze.
“That’s true, I have been.” Draco admitted, looking forward. He focused on a spider trapping a moth in its web. “With school.” The moth fought, attempted to flap its wings but the web was too sticky. “I have to keep up my grades. Them dropping suddenly would be suspicious.” Draco’s voice didn’t waver, despite his heart beating at a much more rapid pace than normally.
“Lie.” Severus Snape spoke simply. The professor was tasked with taking care of the Slytherin boy, but he wasn’t about to listen to his childish lies while the man knew what he had been seeing in the past months around Hogwarts.
Draco didn’t move.
Narcissa sighed and got closer to her son. She placed her palms on Draco’s pale cheeks and she felt them being hollower than she remembered. Draco still didn’t look at her. The spider was covering the dying moth in his web, fully suffocating the creature.
“My boy, the dead don’t need lovers.” Narcissa’s voice was quiet, regretful even. Her heart ached for the boy who was so quickly deprived of a childhood.
“You cannot forget about the assignment because of a girl.” Snape spoke up, his voice monotonous.
“I haven’t forgotten.” Draco spat back and took a step away from his mother, whose hands dropped. He didn’t feel the lack of her palms on his cheeks, as they left no warmth Draco could feel. “And there’s no girl.”
“Do not lie to us, boy. I have seen you with the Ravenclaw girl, I am not blind.” Snape saw the glances between Draco and you in the Great Hall, he saw the way Draco fixed his gaze on you during DADA. He also caught you walking into the Room of Requirement not long after Draco the previous night. On top of that, Minerva had mentioned how Draco’s recent assignments closely mirrored yours. You had a certain style noticeable in your homework answers, and that style began to be seen in Draco’s own homework which lead everyone to speculate the two students may be closer than everyone thinks.
Before Draco could deny, Narcissa spoke “Under other circumstances, I’d be delighted to hear about a girl in your life.” Her tone was soft, yet it held an edge and sternness to it. “But you have a mission, Draco. Do I need to remind you of the consequences to befall our family if you don’t succeed?”
“No.” Draco spat. He already knew the consequences – loud and clear. They had been drilled into his mind, heart and soul the entire summer. If he couldn’t kill Dumbledore, Voldemort would kill Draco’s entire family instead.
“The girl is another weakness. Another person to add to the death list, Draco.” His mother pleaded. “You know he will kill her if he finds out.”
“I know.”
Draco could feel all the warmth in his body melt away and even his bones felt cold and heavy.
“You can still save her.” Snape spoke. “Focus on you mission, hurt her. Make her believe you don’t love her.”
Draco glanced at the spider one last time, and the moth laid still in the webs of the predator. The wind made the web sway, but only slightly. It was too sturdy to be blown away by any forces.
“Hurt her to save her.” Narcissa’s voice echoed through Draco’s mind all the way back to the castle. The Room of Requirement didn’t appear that night, and so the boy went to bed instead. He entered an empty Slytherin common room and even though the fire was burning, Draco couldn’t feel its warmth. Not even as he knelt in front of the flames, attempting to warm his freezing hands. His movements were mechanic. As he laid in bed that night, he couldn’t remember how exactly he got back into the dorm from the Shack.
However, he remembered events that took place years ago perfectly.
He especially remembered the night of the Yule Ball, two years prior. He can pinpoint the exact moment he spotted you in the crowd of well-dressed students. It was, in his mind, the first time he really, truly saw you. He remembered the small -but noticeable skip of his heart that happened as soon as his eyes landed on your figure. You were smiling, but sitting at the wrong table –  which confused him for a moment. You were sat at the Gryffindor table, right next to the Weasley twins who were making you laugh. A Ravenclaw boy whose name Draco didn’t know was behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders thus signaling that he was your date that night through possessive body language. You didn’t acknowledge his presence much, though.
Pansy, Draco’s date, made comments about your dress each time you stood up to dance. The long dark blue satin dress gently touched the ground with each step you took, the slit in its side slightly exposed your leg with each movement. There was a smile on your face the whole night.
Draco thought you looked so beautiful.
He thought you looked beautiful even when your glance danced towards Ron Weasley until the end of the ball.
Draco also remembered the night Pansy dragged you into Umbridge’s office a year later. She held your arms behind your back forcefully while you struggled to get out of her grasp. Your wand was in her possession and you looked angry. A great juxtaposition to how you looked on the night of the Yule Ball. He remembered thinking how much sense it made for you to be tangled in Harry Potter’s mess because that’s what Potter did. He had everyone on his side, all odds in his favor while Draco was being dealt bad cards at every turn.  
You fought and tried to get away from Pansy. Your hair was messy, and your oversized blue sweater was getting untucked from your jeans with each forceful move you made. A frown painted your soft features, your eyes seemed darker than usual. Draco caught a glimpse of the scars on your wrist which he immediately knew came from Umbridge’s detention sessions, and he felt a flicker of rage rise into his stomach. The feeling directly contradicted the satisfaction he had been feeling at the sight of Potter getting his plans spoiled right in front of him.
“Parkinson, lay it off.” Draco found himself spitting when he realized the pressure on your wrist was painful. He spoke before he realized what he was doing, and so he found the confused gazes of Ginny and Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and you – all fixed on him. Pansy obeyed Draco with discomfort.
You looked at him quizzingly, not really understanding why he was suddenly…helping you? He met your gaze just for a second before a heavy glare returned in his eyes and he turned away, focusing entirely on Harry and Umbridge.
It was minutes later when he watched your figure getting smaller as you ran away from Umbridge’s office, escaping with your friends. Draco and his friends were left behind and unable to follow as they each struggled with curses thrown at them in the escape. You were all long gone by the time the group of Slytherins came to, and Draco remembered that he found himself wishing he had people running into the line of fire for him like Harry did – he wished you would’ve glanced back at him in your escape and then weeks later when he was told about the events of that night, he found himself hoping his father didn’t hurt you in the Ministry attack.
Those thoughts and memories didn’t stay with him for long that summer, though. Draco couldn’t say that you crossed his mind after he received the Mark.
Until that night.
It was late and he was in the Room of Requirement, still fiddling with the cabinet. It was the fourth consecutive night spent in there after finding the damn thing, and he wasn’t anywhere close to fixing it. Frustrated, he punched and kicked the wood so hard that his knuckles sent sharp waves of pain through his arm. It was because of the noise he was making, the kicks and grunts that he didn’t hear the Room’s doors open and close.
You had previously been in the Gryffindor common room, attending one of their parties. There weren’t lots of Ravenclaws there – hell, it was only you, Stiles, Padma, Anthony and Michael. And it was all going well. You were sat on a bean bag chair with Stiles in-between your legs, surrounded by your Gryffindor friends: Ron, Harry, Hermione, Neville and Ginny, with Dean and Seamus on their way to you all with butterbeers in hand. The atmosphere was fun and light – a welcomed escape from the reality surrounding you, but you all decided to enjoy the moment and pretend the world outside the common room didn’t exist for the night. So you sat close to the fire and you didn’t know if the hot flames were warming you up or if it was the fact that Ron was focusing an unusual amount of attention on you.
You’ve had a crush on the Weasley boy since third year, and no matter what you did, you couldn’t stop your heart from beating faster each time he smiled at you.
You were having a great time.
“And if I become an Animagus to help Scott, then what?” Stiles spoke. Harry shook his head. You puffed. “What? We’d be the new generation of the Marauders; someone has to keep the legacy alive.” He continued, determined.
“Lupin would kill you, mate.” Ron laughed.
“You know animagi don’t pick their animal though, right?” You questioned. Stiles looked up at you and beamed.
“I know. But it’s like, vibe related so I think I’m safe. I’d absolutely be a dog, or a wolf.”
You glanced worryingly at Harry, but the boy simply burst out laughing and denied jokingly. Everyone else hearing the conversation laughed as well.
“Stiles, if it’s vibe related then you’d be a weasel.” You spoke, prompting laughs from everyone. Ron high fived you for the joke and you smiled wider than you thought possible.
The good mood didn’t last long, though. Only moments later Lavender Brown joined the group and comfortably sat herself in Ron’s lap. You watched him give her a quick kiss and wrap his arms around her. “What are we talking about?” She asked and it was as if your ears got covered. The sound faded, your smile dropped, your shoulders slumped. Ron would never like you back, you had to accept that. It was pathetic how you longed for the boy for so long.
So, you excused yourself and left the common room entirely to take a walk. You didn’t expect to end up outside the Room of Requirement, and you didn’t even feel like going inside. But the hall was dark and cold and you began hearing footsteps and the flickering light of Filch’s lantern slowly began illuminating the stone walls and with a haste movement, you went into the Room before Filch could walk around the corner and catch you.
You found yourself in a Room much different from the training grounds you had known while being part of the D.A. Tall piles of clutter seemed to reach the ceiling and despite the room being extremely vast, it felt tiny and crowded because of all the objects tossed and piled everywhere in sight. You walked on a path formed through columns made out of old boxes and books, all piled amongst stacked chairs, empty owl cages and rusty potions equipment. Loud bangs followed by grunts caused you to stop in your tracks and draw out your wand. The room in itself seemed unpredictable, and so you already had about six defensive spells ready to go in your mind and on the tip of your tongue.
You caught a glimpse of platinum blond hair before anything else. It looked messy – very different from the way Draco usually wore it: slick and perfect. Now, it gave you the feeling that he’d been vigorously running his fingers through it, causing it to become tousled. He was only in a white shirt – the robe, vest and tie laid disregarded on a near-by couch.
Lowering your wand, you gently knocked on a table to get his attention.
He turned around in a panic. His hand reached for his wand but stopped midair when he saw you. “What are you doing here?” Draco spat with no hesitation. His heart skipped a beat again, like it did on the night of the Yule Ball.
“I could ask you the same thing.” You responded, glancing at the cabinet in front of him. At the time, you didn’t think anything of it.
“None of your business.”
“I don’t care anyway.” You glared. “This room appeared to me like it did for you and since I think I need it, I’m not leaving.” With your arms crossed, you leaned against a random tossed out piece of furniture.
“Isn’t there a Gryffindor party you should be at?” Draco’s gaze remained cold and the scowl on his face didn’t falter.
“You know about that?”
“Don’t sound so surprised, I know everything that goes on around here.” He broke eye contact by focusing on folding up his sleeves. When his hand began working on his left forearm, he stopped abruptly, remembering. He went stiff at the realization, which you noticed. Before you could speak however, he looked back at you with a smirk, “Was Lavender Brown there so you ran away?” It was as if he didn’t look struck by lightning just two seconds before.
However, his words made you forget his strange behavior. “The hell? I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, come on, (Y/L/N). Everyone knows you have the hots for Weasley. Least you can do is own up to it.” He teased with a mixture of annoyance and amusement present on his face.
“Piss off, Malfoy.” Walking up to the old couch Draco’s uniform laid on top of, you sat down and watched as the dust flew out of its cushion. Draco groaned. “I’m just gonna nap here until I’m sure Filch left and isn’t near the Ravenclaw tower.”
Draco mumbled some things you didn’t bother to understand, and then silence befell both of you. He didn’t really bother to fight you to leave even though, in retrospect, he should have had. Maybe if you didn’t stay with him that night, he wouldn’t be meeting you in the Room months later with tears burning his eyes. But, to be fair, he couldn’t have known that night. That night, he just rolled his eyes at you breaking the silence ten minutes later, when he thought you were asleep.
“What are you even doing there?”
“I told you, none of your business.” He spat.
“Is that the vanishing cabinet Peeves broke a few years ago?”
Draco turned around. It was his turn to be surprised by your knowledge. “How do you know about that?” He couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over your figure as you sat cross-legged on the old couch he napped on countless times before. You wore casual clothes – which he always thought looked great on you, and your hair laid straight over your shoulders. The few candles he had lit around softly luminated your face with warm tones.
You smiled proudly at his question.
“Fred and George shoved Montague in it last year” you laughed “it was quite funny.”
Draco remembered the incident. He was, after all, the one who found Montague stuck in a bathroom after the encounter with the twins.
“You’re trying to fix it, aren’t you?” Draco watched you jump up from the couch and walk next to him to examine the cabinet. He suddenly felt on edge, exposed. The Ravenclaw in you was jumping to solve a problem, while the Slytherin in him was about to explode. “Have you tried a mending charm?”
“Of course, I tried a mending charm.” Draco answered with annoyance in his voice. You rolled your eyes. “It doesn’t work.”
“Well, then- “
“I don’t need nor want your help, (Y/L/N).” He glared down at you. “I can handle it myself.”
“Asshole.” You mumbled before taking a few steps back from Draco. He didn’t turn to you. Instead, he focused on his task even though his mind wasn’t on it anymore. He focused on your footsteps as you began to walk away without another word and before he could overthink, he spoke up softly. “But you can stay, if you want.”
You didn’t stop walking as you answered him. “I don’t.”
Draco then heard you utter “Lumos”, heard your footsteps getting quitter and quieter, then the heavy doors being pulled open. After they closed, he found himself surrounded by silence once again. Not dwelling on it, he pushed the thought of you away and resumed his work. Nothing was more important than his assignment.
Things slowly started to shift after that night.
The next day in Transfiguration as he was zoning out, a paper butterfly landed on his desk. He glanced around the room but saw nobody giving any sign of sending him the note. However, after he opened it and read its contents, his eyes immediately found you. On the paper was a list of incantations that would be useful in repairing things, and he knew you had sent it even though you looked focused on the textbook in front of you. It looked as if you were purposefully trying to ignore him, and Draco allowed the ghost of a smirk to form at the corners of his lips.
Two nights later, Draco walked into the Room of Requirement and you were already there. A few more candles than usual were lit as you sat on the (now clean looking) couch, reading a heavy, dense book. “Have they worked?” you asked without looking up from your book.
Draco sighed, loosening his tie. “No.”
And as time passed, you and Draco began spending more and more time together. Initially, you tried to help him fix the cabinet. It gave you a distraction from Ron and Lavender. But it was also obvious that fixing the old thing was important to him – he seemed desperate and for some reason, you felt like helping. And so, you found yourself sitting close to Draco on that old, tossed out couch with different heavy books resting in your lap every night, both searching for spells that could work. Each few day the space between you decreased until you reached a point where your knees touched and your shoulder pressed into his bicep. Sometimes you could even feel his minty breath on your face – just for a second. But the feeling began to linger even as you walked the stairs up to the Ravenclaw tower late at night.
You also found yourself thinking less and less about Ron.
Then, about a month after the Gryffindor party, the Katie Bell incident took place.
Harry began suspecting Draco of the attack and accused him of being a Death Eater. You didn’t go to the Room of Requirement for a few days after that because honestly, you were scared. You knew, deep in your heart that what Harry was saying made sense and because of that you started to believe that Draco’s cabinet wasn’t just some fun project. You lit on fire all the parchment you had written mending charms on, in a haste and with shaky hands.
You didn’t want to see him after that.
But you found yourself days later sneaking out of the tower late at night, quietly making your way to the seventh floor.
Draco got heavily scolded by Snape for the necklace attempt. The Professor found his action completely foolish and didn’t hesitate to let Draco know that. The boy arrived at the Room feeling beaten, defeated. On top of that, he was met by the empty couch and the broken cabinet and he snapped. In a fit of rage, he broke one of the cabinet’s doors and threw it at the couch. The noise he caused rang through the entire room, momentarily covering the silence. He couldn’t bear the sight of his failure any longer and the thought that you were now possibly scared of him after rumors of him being a Death Eater spread around the school, thanks to Potter, angered him even more.
“Training for the next Triwizard Tournament, Malfoy?”
Your voice made him turn around quickly, surprised look on his face.
A small smile danced at your lips, and you took out your wand. Pointing it at the broken door, you cast out “Repairo,” and the door lifted from the couch, gently levitating towards the cabinet and fixing itself. In the end, it looked as if nothing had happened. “At least this works, otherwise you would’ve had to pick up some muggle skills.” You teased.
Draco let out a small laugh, before his face fell again and he sat down on the dusty floor. His back rested against some other piece of forgotten furniture and he brought his knees up, hugging them to his chest. His head fell back, and he closed his eyes.
You quietly sat next to him with a huff.
“Why are you here?” Draco asked quietly.
After a moment of silence, you answered with honesty “I don’t know.” And you didn’t. You couldn’t understand why, despite the pit in your stomach that took shape as soon as Harry accused Draco of being a Death Eater, you were alone with him in a secret room, late at night.
Opening his eyes, Draco made a quick decision. He placed his left hand on your right knee, squeezing. Your eyes met – he looked calm; you were confused. “Do you trust me?” Draco’s voice was just a whisper. Alas, through the deafening silence of the Room, you heard him loud and clear.
“I don’t know.” You answered again. And, mirroring his impulsive move, you placed a hand over his. He felt cold at the touch and as you got used to the slightly stinging feeling, he found comfort in your warmth. “All I know is that I’m here, for some reason. I felt like seeing you.” You admitted, your voice tender and quiet.
Draco didn’t speak for a while. You thought you embarrassed yourself but didn’t dare to move.
“There are things about me that you really wouldn’t like if you knew.” The boy finally spoke. His eyes were glued to the cabinet that was a few feet from you both, but his mind was miles away. “I’m not a good man.” He admitted with no waver in his tone, no hesitation.
And maybe it was the daily, month-long meetings you’ve had with him. Or maybe it was the flicker of decency you saw in him when he got Pansy to release her painful grip on you the previous year. But your mind dug up small events and information buried deep in your memory that made you frown at his words. You remembered Dobby. Harry told you he was the Malfoy’s house elf who tried to keep him safe during second year, and it all seemed strange to you. You knew that house elves, if owned, could not act on their own volition no matter how strong their beliefs and inclinations were. In your mind it seemed unlikely that Dobby left the Malfoys without their knowledge and so, for the longest time you had a hunch it was Draco who sent Dobby to warn Harry. Especially since Lucius was the one who snuck Tom Riddle’s diary into Hogwarts. You were also quite sure it was Draco who helped Harry figure out the monster from the Chamber of Secrets was a Basilisk.
But overall, you knew Draco didn’t grow up in a good environment. He’d been heavily manipulated his entire life and it was in that moment, as you sat next to him on dirty floors, hand on top of his, that you decided whatever he was doing, he was doing either because of blackmail or manipulation.
“You can’t let the bad things from the past define you,” You whispered as your fingers slowly occupied the empty spaces between Draco’s own fingers. He was quick to grip your hand into his. “I think you are good. You’ve just been dealt shit cards.”
Draco didn’t show any emotion as he processed your words. But that night as he lay in his bed all he could think about were your words. Nobody had told him he was a good person before, and he’d never felt supported before in his life. And he felt a wave of emotions hit him all at once. He felt envy because Potter had had you all this time and because of your friendship with him, Draco didn’t get close to you sooner. He felt jealousy because he remembered you were in the Room in the first place because you were heartbroken over Ron – again, someone he didn’t like had all the things Draco felt he should’ve had instead. He felt comfort knowing you weren’t scared of him despite Potter filling your mind with (true) accusations. He felt hopeless because he was a Death Eater now and you were one of the good guys. He also felt entitled, selfish and determined because for the first time in a while, he found himself wanting something – someone, that he wanted for himself: you.
Over the next few months, you both unintentionally grew closer. Draco remembered every smile, every laugh shared between the two of you in the candlelight, hidden deep inside the Room of Requirement. Most days, he worked alone on the cabinet while you studied and pretended he wasn’t doing something potentially harmful. You both found yourselves finding comfort in the other’s mere presence.
You began to think less about Ron and more about Draco and it made you feel strangely guilty, especially when Ron would throw his arm around you like he used to in the Great Hall and you’d catch Draco’s eyes and excuse yourself to move back to the Ravenclaw table.
On certain nights you attempted to get Draco to do homework with you. But with each passing day, he became more and more anxious and afraid. And with each passing day, it hurt and worried you more and more. On a few occasions you did his Transfiguration homework for him just to keep him out of detention.
He owled you a Merry Christmas note during winter break but told you not to write him back. He knew you wished him happy holidays as well.
You gave him a Christmas present when you got back to Hogwarts – a ring, as you’d noticed he liked wearing them. His face lit up at the gesture and it was the first time he embraced you. The action was impulsive but it felt right. One of his arms wrapped around your lower back, the other cradled your head gently. His face buried in your neck and he held you so tight you didn’t dare move. He held you to make sure you were real and wouldn’t slip away from his grasp.
A little over a month later, Draco was feeling the pressure of his tasks heavier than ever. He felt sick each time he looked at the cabinet and you were noticing that. You were also noticing his complete disinterest in school and his reoccurring absences. He’d spend days in the Room, not even coming down to eat. You snuck him meals each time you could but sometimes you’d find them untouched on the floor.
“Alright, Draco. What’s going on?” You confronted him one night.
“Nothing.” He mumbled. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Then help me understand,” you pleaded “Draco you’re not acting like yourself please, tell me what’s going on so I can help.” You never pleaded with a man before, never thought you would. Your ego felt too strong for this. And yet, there you were, standing behind a disheveled Draco Malfoy with an ache in your chest.
He ignored you.
You felt like throwing something at his head.
You watched as he opened the cabinet doors and took out a rotten apple. He held it in his hand for a second too long. It wasn’t unusual, you’ve watched him do this repeatedly over the past five months. You flinched when he threw the apple on the floor with vicious force. He then kicked the bottom of the cabined a bunch of times, yelling out in anger and frustration. His scream echoed through the Room. You pursed your lips.
“I can’t do this.” He finally spoke. “I can’t bloody do this and everyone’s going to die.” He started pacing around the small clearing amidst clutter. “My mum, my dad, me…you – we’re all going to die.” He kicked the plate of food you had brought him a few hours prior, spilling the contents over the floor.
You frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“He’s gonna kill you and mum in front of me, make me watch,” He was frantic “probably gonna torture you first so I die remembering your screams. Then,” he pinched his nose, wiped his mouth “then he’ll kill me. I’ll be last and everyone’s gonna be taking the piss out of me, the fucking kid who couldn’t fix a fucking,” he kicked the cabinet again “magic fucking cabinet!” he kicked and kicked until you could feel the pain he felt in his leg yourself.
You walked up to him and attempted to pull him away from the large wooden broken object, but he pushed you away forcefully. You stumbled back in shock. “How dare – “ You couldn’t finish your sentence, however. He hastily turned to face you, pulling up the sleeve of his left arm aggressively, exposing the Dark Mark.
No words came out of your mouth after that.
You couldn’t seem to peel your eyes off of the mark, and Draco watched you with a pained heart. Part of him expected you to run, another to pull out your wand and attack. He didn’t know which one was coming, he didn’t know which one he preferred. However, he didn’t expect you to walk up to him with slow, steady steps.
His eyes locked with yours as you took his arm into your own. It was as if the Room emptied and the only things in it were the two of you. Holding his arm to your chest, you got as close to him as possible. As he looked down at you, his heavy breath fanned your face. “It’s okay, Draco.” You whispered. “I understand.”
And you did. You understood his choice, understood the position he was forced into. And your heart ached for him.
That’s the night Draco remembered best. The way your figure was illuminated by the soft glow of yellow candles, the soft fabric of your sweater rubbing on his skin. The kindness in your eyes spreading warmth through his veins, the way your lips moved when you spoke his name. Most times he thought about conjuring a Patronus, Draco believed the memory of that night was what he needed to focus on in order to succeed.
With his hand on the back of your head, he quickly lowered himself to reach your height and caught your lips in a kiss. He felt you smiling into it and he found himself mirroring you, until you pulled away to giggle into his shoulder. He couldn’t do anything besides kissing the top of your head.
Days later you were both laying on the couch you had transformed into a cozy spot. You were focused on his Mark, tracing your fingers along the lines of it, gently. Draco knew he was supposed to feel pride in having the Mark – that’s what his family had told him, but he felt something close to shame each time he looked at it.
You rested your hand on top of it, covering it. “I’m sorry. But we’ll figure it out.”
“Together?”
“Together.”
A week later he was forced into the meeting with his mom and Snape at the Shrieking Shack. The following night he walked towards the Room of Requirement late, with heavy steps. It felt as if each movement he made on the way happened in slow-motion.
You were reading comfortably when he finally reached you. A smile formed on your lips upon seeing him, but it faded when you took in his appearance, his sour face, hardened figure, stone gaze. “What’s wrong?”
Draco didn’t speak, only pointed his wand towards you. You froze. “Draco?” His hand shook, his face wavered. You were confused.
“I have to do this, (Y/N). He’ll kill you otherwise.” Draco’s voice cracked.
“No, he won’t. You’re a skilled Occlumentist, right? He can’t get into your mind.” You immediately caught on.
He shook his head. “He’ll know, he’ll know. Snape knows, mum knows,” he sounded so scared that you attempted to get up to comfort him, but he threated so you sat back down “he’ll know.”
Tears formed and blurred your vision as your heart picked up speed.
“You know, I didn’t wanna think about you, I wanted to stay focused. I came here to do a task, that’s it. I came to be great, to do great things for the Dark Lord.” Draco began, “But then I saw you. I’ve wanted you since fourth year and then here you were, being good to me and…you woke up a weakness inside me. And I got selfish, I put my mission aside to get something for myself.”
Tears now ran down your face, and Draco mirrored you. You shook your head, silently pleading for him to reconsider.
“But I have a mission, (Y/N) and it’s so important. I can’t be distracted. And I can’t have you being associated with me – it’ll get you killed and I can’t – I can’t have it.”
The candles flickered and for a split second your mind went to a Divination class, where Trelawney explained candle magic. Their dancing light showed instability, chaotic energy while its tall flame indicated success brought about with complications. The air felt cold as you stared at Draco who hadn’t fully stepped into the candlelight. An abyss of darkness stood tall behind him, the sights of it deepening the pit in your stomach. Despite his shaky hands, dark circles underneath his saddened eyes and hollow cheeks, Draco looked put-together. His hair wasn’t messy like it was the first night you found him in the Room. It was back to its slick, flawless style. He wore his all-black suit, and his tie wasn’t loosened.
“I also can’t have you walk out of here knowing everything about me.” His voice hardened and for the first time while being with him, you felt fear.  
“I won’t tell anyone.” Your voice was small. You sat up, your eyes beginning to look for a way out.
“I can’t risk it, you’re friends with Potter. You’re one of the good guys.”
“I won’t put you in danger, Draco.”
He grimaced at your words as if they’ve hit him with the force of a Cruciatus Curse. He tried not to let any more tears fall. You took his reaction as an opportunity to get closer to him. Maybe if you could take away his wand, touch him. Maybe then you could change his mind.
“I won’t endanger you either,” He whispered. “That’s why I have to do this.” At that, he lowered his wand and took two long strides towards you. Another one of his unpredictable actions that left you frozen in your spot. In a swift motion, he cupped your face between his calloused palms. “You know this is the right choice.”
“No,” you whispered and shook your head “no, it’s not. You can teach me Occlumency, I can help you,” your fearful eyes bore into his saddened ones, his heart ached at your words, at the fear he was capable of instilling in you. “We’re a good team, remember? I can help.” You kept pleading as your own hands rested on top of his. You felt the ring you’d given him still on his finger.
He simply shook his head with a small, almost unnoticeable smile on his face. “I’ve already corrupted you enough.” Draco admitted and you were taken aback; rendered speechless. “You’ve been covering for me with your friends, lying to Professors, basically doing my homework while I’m working on bringing the school down.”
Your heart dropped; hands started shaking. Draco felt it. He felt the weight of his words starting to crush you. Down in your mind you knew he was doing something bad with the cabinet, but you didn’t think it was so drastic.
Draco continued. Hurt her to save her, his mom’s words rang through his mind. “I’m using the Vanishing Cabinet to bring Death Eaters into Hogwarts,” his words made you remember the Death Eaters attack at the Quidditch World Cup, where you were almost trampled. You remembered the attack on London that sent one of your family members to the Hospital. You remembered how ruthless the Death Eaters were at the Ministry, when they were throwing deadly curses at a bunch of teenagers.
And there it was.
The look of betrayal, hurt and fear on your face that Draco never wanted to see. He tried to remember the night you saw his Mark, the night you accepted and comforted him. That’s what he wanted to remember, not this. “After I get them here, I’m going to kill Dumbledore.” He continued.
Chills erupted on your body and you recoiled from his touch.
“I knew you were planning something bad, but this, Draco?” You couldn’t speak louder than a whisper as you took small steps away from him. He knew this was coming; the disgust, the unacceptance. Was your speech about understanding him all bullshit? “You don’t have to- “
“Yes, I do. It’s my mission.”
“No, listen to me. You’re not this person, you’re not a Death Eater. I know you, Draco. You’re still a good person put in a terrible situation but it’s not all lost, we can-“ Despite your fear, you still found yourself comforting him, pleading with him. Your mind lead an inner battle between understanding the boy’s motives and wanting to let Harry know of everything that was happening.
You couldn’t let Dumbledore die, couldn’t let Death Eaters attack Hogwarts.
“I cursed Katie Bell. Almost killed her.” Draco cut you off.
“I know.” You deadpanned. He parted his lips and frowned in confusion. “I saw the necklace in your bag a week before it all happened. Then I saw it on McGonagall’s desk. It wasn’t hard to piece together the puzzle.” You explained.
Despite the warmth spreading through his heart at the thought of you not abandoning him even after knowing that all those months ago, at the thought that he’d finally found someone to be on his side for once in his life, someone who understood and maybe even actually loved him – despite it all, Draco’s eyes had never showed less emotion.
You wanted to cry but didn’t. Your ego won.
“You know I have to do this, (Y/N).” His voice didn’t waver anymore. The more reasons you gave him to love you, the more his decision solidified in his mind. “And you know I’m doing the right thing,” he wanted to hold you so bad, but he didn’t move; instead, you both stood feet away from each other. “Knowing all this puts you in danger. Coming here every night puts you in danger hell, even looking at me in the Great Hall puts you in danger. I can’t see you brought into the manor tied up, imprisoned and killed as a punishment for me. And you know I’m right. I’m not just some irrelevant follower, I’ve sat at a damn table with The Dark Lord countless times this summer. He’s been in my home; he knows me personally.”
You couldn’t look at him the more he spoke. So, your gaze was stuck on a candle, but your eyes remained unfocused.  
“You’re smart.” Draco kept speaking, his tone now loud and confident. “This is the part where you tell me that even though you wanna change my mind, you know I’m doing the right thing,” he even joked. You wanted to cry but couldn’t speak. He was right. “Tell me you’re proud of me because I’m putting someone else’s wellbeing above my own for once” his voice became muffled, as if he spoke from underwater. It was silent for a moment as Draco watched you process his words, “You’ll be on the right side of history after this. You’ll go back to Weasley who’s a better choice for you than I could ever be – even though it kills me to say that.”
All you could do was shake your head in disbelief.
By the time you looked back up at him, he had a few tears running down his face and his wand pointed at you. And so you cried.
“We were a good team, weren’t we?” Draco spoke with one last saddened smile.
“Draco, please. I love –“ you began, but Draco couldn’t bear hear it.
You watched Draco wipe his tears with a swift motion, before a white light formed at the tip of his wand. His voice came out strong, unwavering, and determined. His hand stopped shaking.
“Obliviate,” Draco uttered before you could react.
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malereader-inserts · 3 years
Text
Unfillable Expectations
Fandom: Avengers Pairing: Tony Stark & Son!Reader Summary: They’re starting to feel impossible Word Count: 1,014 Request: would you be willing to write tony x son!reader, where reader's frustrated by people's expectations of him, they think he's ultra-smart like his father when really he's struggling to understand anything he's learning in school. and then online school happens, and Tony learns just how much reader struggles and comforts him. ♡♡
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You hated everyone.
You wish you didn't because the world love you so much, but inside you was the burning hatred you had for everyone. You didn't deserve the love you got from people, you scoff and shake your head at the thought of it.
People don't love you for you, they love you because of who your father was.
You're expected to be like him and expectation kills people.
It kills the people who look to you, because when they realise that their expectations are misplaced - they start to hate you because you were never what they imagine.
It kills the person who has the expectation over their head. They’re going to try to reach the sun and when they can’t they’re going to become frustrated, that frustration turns sour as they become demotivated. That person will never realise that to reach the sun you have the grab the sky first. 
You bang your head against the desk as you wait patiently for your class to start. You’re smart but you’re wondering if it’s all worth it. Your dad graduated from MIT at the age of seventeen, well you’re the same age but you’re starting your first year of University - granted that you manage to start University a year earlier, you know in the back of your head that the media was hoping you were advance at life.
Unknown to you, your dad didn’t care much. He was proud that you were smart and you try to get top marks but he doesn’t care if you’re a year ahead or not. All he cares if you’re okay, but he’s been so busy with work he hadn’t found time to get some downtime with his son.
Tony offered his labs for research in vaccination, he has been working to help with a world crisis that his son was struggling to keep up with online schooling. So, when he returned home it was late in the middle of the night, he was not expecting to see light in your room.
Tony thought maybe you had fallen asleep with the lights on, you could sleep anywhere given the chance. He knocks on the door first, he expected to be met with silence but he heard you groaning in despair.
“(Y/n)?” Tony called out.
Tony step back as he heard footsteps in your room, your door swings open as he sees you looking dishevelled. Your eyes are puffy and red, he can see behind you that you were piled up with different notebooks. Your hands are marked with ink and you just look exhausted.
“I can’t do it anymore, dad,” You admitted after the pause of silence, “It’s too much and I’m so tired of waking up early, not understanding anything and going to sleep late.”
Tony could tell you’re at breaking point, you weren’t a stranger to long hours of being awake. During the summer when you had no responsibilities, he often recalls you being late up to play your video game and waking up early so you could see your dad and talk about his new project. 
Tony softly breathes out, thinking to himself at least you have the week off. 
“It’s okay, (Y/n).”
“It’s not!” You exclaimed as your dad gives you a pointed look to quieten your voice, “People have expectations of me, you have expectations-”
“No I don’t,” Tony said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world as you looked at him, “Listen, kid, I expect you to finish University, that’s all. I’m not expected straight A’s or you finishing college in two years. I don’t care, I’m proud of you as it is and if you do happen to finish college in two years with straight A’s, well, that’s just a bonus!”
“But-”
“I would never put high expectation on you, they broke me when I was your age and I know how you’re feeling.”
Expectations, it’s a Starks’ worst nightmare. 
“Listen, you get some sleep, you relax over the weekend and when Monday comes, I’ll help you study, it shouldn’t be too hard for your old man. We’ll go through the content together until you’re caught up or happy with everything. How does that sound?”
Your shoulders relax because the thought of that was nice, you get to hang out with your dad and also try to catch up with work. You know that your old man will dedicate his week to you, he’ll help you with writing notes and doing your assignments. You tiredly smile at your dad.
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
Tony smiles back as he ruffles your hair, “Get to sleep kid, you look like you’re about to pass out.”
You nodded as you shuffle to your head, the moment your body hit the bed you were out flat. Tony chuckles to himself as he walks into your room to turn on your lamp before heading back out. He looks back to you to see yourself get comfortable before flipping your light switch. 
He slowly and quietly shuts the door to allow you to sleep, though he knows that you’ve entered deep sleep.
So, after a week with your dad, you sit at your laptop in your new environment as Tony makes you a new workspace down by the lab, over the weekend, rather than cooping yourself in your room. He’s there in his own lab, he’s overseeing the projects and checking emails as your stepmom, Pepper fills him with the workload.
Even if he’s busy, he can look at your direct through the glass walls to see how you’re doing and if he sees that you’re struggling to understand he’ll come in to help you. Luckily, your professors don’t want your cameras or mics on so Tony can just derail to lecture to you and teach it a different way. 
Tony notice that you’re back to enjoying school. 
Though, Tony won’t say it because he doesn’t want you to hyper fixate on the fact. 
Online school is hard, but at least you have your dad to work you through it.
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jeonsjiddies · 3 years
Text
extra credit | jjk (m) 3 - final
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Summary-  Jungkook loves to take control. Word Count- ~1k Pairing- Jungkook x reader Genre- smut Warnings- dom!jungkook, dirty talk, teasing, edging, power kink, praise kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, exhibitionism, public orgasm, oral (f recieving) Unedited
Part 1 | Part 2
What you thought would be a one time thing quickly morphed into something more, neither you nor Jungkook willing to let go. You were addicted to the feel of him, the smell of him, the way his body moved, the way his voice made you shiver. You didn’t think you’d ever get enough of Jungkook, ever be satiated. He was a drug to you. Jungkook tested your limits, encouraged you to try new things, both in the bedroom and out of it.
Which is how you found yourself at the podium, giving another lecture to his 9am class while he sat innocently in the front row, flipping his phone around in his large hand. The phone that was currently connected via Bluetooth to the vibrating panties pressing up against your sex. Jungkooks eyes shone, no, glittered with mischief as he watched your tense, nervous body give the lecture.
Originally, you had wholeheartedly rejected the idea of wearing vibrating panties to your lecture, with Jungkook able to control their frequency from his phone, but he had ways of convincing you. Those ways had been his sweet lips wrapped around your throbbing bud, that skillful tongue darting in and out of your drenched pussy until you were on the verge of tears, only for Jungkook to tear his mouth away, obscenely running his tongue along the expanse of his lips and letting out a wantan moan.
“Fucking delicious, Angel.”
“Jungkook.” You’d whined, wiggling your hips and pressing your thighs together for the slightest bit of relief.
“What is it, baby? You wanna cum? Want to fall apart on Daddy’s tongue?” He’d teased, trailing a finger lightly along your slit,
“Yes please Daddy!”
“Mmm… only good girls get to cum, my love. And good girls… they do what Daddy says,” he’d held the panties leisurely from the tip of his finger, dangling them in the air in front of you.
“Fine, I’ll wear them, just… make me cum, please!”
Jungkook grinned triumphantly and dove back into your heat, sucking on your throbbing bundle, then licking long stripes along it, working his fingers inside your needy cunt until you were falling apart beneath him, clutching onto his hair and tugging for something to ground yourself from the euphoria coursing through your veins. He’d pulled away once you were a panting, sweaty mess.
“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” he’d winked, “but we’re going to be late if we don’t leave soon.”
And so, ever the slave to your own arousal, you’d found yourself in front on fifty college students with a vibrator pressed against your clit and lacy panties threatening to peek out the top of your skirt. Your heart was pounding each time you saw Jungkook turn his phone to unlock it, and he was so enjoying your misfortune. He smirked and drug his finger along the screen, but nothing happened, he was just teasing you. You felt like a rubber band about to snap.
“In chapter thirTEE-“ you gasped, doubling over as vibrations began against your clit just as you were discussing the assigned reading.
“Miss Y/L/N! Are you okay?” One of the girls in the front row asked, alarmed and half standing.
“I’m fine!” You choked out, raising one arm to reassure her, slowly lifting your head to stand up right.
“Are you sure? You don’t look fine.” Jungkook smirked, eyes meeting yours as you stood to your normal height.
“I am fi-ine, Mr. Jeon. Just… a muscle cr-amp.”
Jungkook had turned the intensity up, his thumb nonchalantly moving along his screen to change the pattern of vibrations as you spoke. Your core clenched with each new wave of pleasure and you did your best to act normally with your clit being assaulted by the delicious sensations.
You weren’t sure what was more arousing, the actual vibrations against your clit, or the animalistic glint in Jungkooks’s eyes as he controlled you in the very place you were meant to be in charge.
He backed off for a moment, allowing you to finish your lecture and assign the homework, but just as you were discussing the test the following week, Jungkook turned the power on full blast, sending you reeling right into an orgasm. You doubled over, biting on your arm to try and conceal the groan spilling from your lips as your body shook with pleasure.
“Miss Y/L/N!”
You gripped the podium to keep yourself upright as the aftershocks from your orgasm made your legs weak. You were breathing heavily but held up a hand to reassure your students.
“I am not feeling well, let’s go ahead and end class early. I’ll see you all next week.”
“Will you be okay?” One student asked.
“Maybe you should let me drive you home, professor. Looks like you could use a hand.” Jungkook spoke, slinging his bag onto his shoulder and walking up to you.
“Thank you, Mr. Jeon. I will see the rest of you next week,” you dismissed.
The students shuffled out of the classroom and as soon as the last one was gone, Jungkook locked the door and confidently strode up to you, gripping your chin and angling your head up to meet his gaze.
“Such a good girl for Daddy, you look so pretty when you fall apart for me… I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m gonna make you feel good, professor. Now, take that skirt off and bend over your desk. I’m ready for lunch.”
And who were you to ever deny Jungkook?
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cornacopicimagines · 4 years
Text
after hours│t.h
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pairing: professor!tom holland x reader 
words: 6.9k (hehe nice)
warnings: swearing, PURE FILTH, sir kink, rough sex, masturbation (male & female), exhibition kink if you squint, spanking & sort of public sex.
summary:  It's wrong, y/n tells herself. She can't help it though. She can't help fantasising about him. At the other end of the class, Tom tells himself to stop staring at her. It's creepy, he thinks. Neither one knows of the mutual pining that is until tension bubbles over. 
a/n: I’m back bitches! I'm still a fucking sinner and this is such a cliche, I'm so so sorry
masterlist
━━★✼☆。
y/n sat at the desk. Her eyes never left Mr. Holland. Her attention never left the way the veins in his arms bulged when he picked up the massive textbook, never left his perfectly gelled hair and how it sat atop his head like it was crafted to from the day he was born. Perhaps I should start typing the notes that were on the board, she scowled to herself.
She feels dirty, almost ashamed of her crush on him. She hates herself for falling into a stupid cliché that had been so easy to avoid all these tireless years. y/n doesn't know why she has gone back to a love-sick teenage girl fantasising about a boy who she'll never even get to touch. A boy that so out of her league, he wouldn't even had the faintest idea that she exists. That doesn't stop them though. y/n still finger fucks herself to an orgasm that no boy has been able to give her in her 24 years of life, all the while wishing it was his cock instead of her fingers. If Mr. Holland knew what she did to herself under the influence of him and his stupidly handsome face, he would be disgusted. This she knows for a fact.
This isn't what she thought she would be doing, in all honesty. She is a semester away from graduating and she never wanted to be stuck in a perpetual state of wanting someone so unattainable it's not uneasy, it's borderline unethical. She truly believed she would have ancient married professor that sound like their legs deep in their coffin. Instead she got a literal Greek God as her Psych professor.
She knows that she's not the only one of course. y/n has met 10 other girls in her class that probably write god awful poetry about Mr. Holland's liquid bronze eyes. She can't blame them, if she could write shitty poetry about him, she 100% would. y/n not angry either, she knows out of the 120 students (110 of whom are girls), are probably all in the same predicament. She sometimes gets dirty looks from them when Mr. Holland address her by her first name.
Perhaps that's something she should consider; he calls her y/n not Miss y/l/n or just simply Miss. It's different, it's endearing and when he has a raspy voice, it's so fucking hot.
"y/n," a voice called out, she shook herself out of her haze, "are you still with us?" Mr. Holland was no standing over her. His cologne surrounding her, intoxicating her. y/n gulped softly before turning her eyes to his.
"Yes, sorry sir," y/n replied quickly, trying her hardest not to stumble over her own words or even let the blush run to her cheeks.
Mr. Holland smiled warmly, "that's good, I need at least one of you listening," the class erupting in laughter, "I would prefer it to be one of the brightest." That though got them quiet. y/n sunk into her chair in embarrassment. The blush she had been fighting rose to the surface, making her even more adamant not to look up at him but alas she couldn't.
In that small fleeting moment, she caught something in his eyes. She couldn't define exactly what it was. Whatever it truly was, y/n knew teachers should not be looking at their students in such a way. It made her even more lightheaded with admiration.
The lesson continued on as normal for another hour. Mr. Holland described the outline for the next assignment, it seemed short and sweet. Write a 2-thousand-word essay on the effects of unintentional recreational drugs during early childhood. y/n had to laugh at the way Mr. Holland phrased it. It was as if he had never touch pot in his entire life, to be fair, y/n wouldn't be too surprised if he didn't. Most of the girls in his class groaned at the mere mention of actual work and not an hour and a half session of pure toe-curling orgasm material. Now that she thinks about it, that would be a wonderful way to spend her Wednesday mornings and Thursday afternoons.
Of course, y/n was in another word during the last minutes of the lesson. Unable to focus on anything other than the hint of a tattoo peeking through the underlining of his shirt. She was working so hard to distinguish what it was that she had completely missed the end of the lesson and the dozens of people walking out.
"y/n, what exactly are you doing?" Mr. Holland's voice asked above her. y/n almost jumped in her seat, but she stayed completely still. "This is the second time today, should I be worried?"
This though made her jump out of her seat. "No of course not sir!" She defended as she rushed to place her things away. "I was just off in wonderland today."
"Are you sure there is nothing distracting you?" He asked.
Yes.
"No," she replied hurriedly.
"You know you can tell me if something is," he reassured her.
Yes, of course. Let me just tell you about how you are distracting me by always wearing the hottest casual suits every lesson and giving me the wonderful fantasy of tearing it off you.
"I know that, it's just been my busy schedule," y/n lied through her teeth. She's a broke college student with hardly any friends or real other assignments. "I am just working really hard, you know?"
Yeah, working really hard to imagine you pounding me into next week!
With that last thought, y/n knew she needed to leave before she exploded with embarrassment and arousal right there in front of him.
"I just wanted to let you know that you are totally allowed to change the topic of the assignment if you feel like there is something that strikes a chord with you," Mr. Holland smiled brightly.
Fuck! Did he have to look so gorgeous even when he's trying to be dorky and supportive.
Mr. Holland noticed the shocked look upon y/n's face and immediately retracted his statement, "I promise I won't fail you, if that's what your thinking." He explained. "I really enjoy your work, you're a gifted woman with a real talent and I don't want to see it go to waste with my shitty assignment."
y/n turned her attitude around. He was stumbling over his words. It was kind of cute and endearing, like everything he does. She smiled warmly at his compliment.
"Sir," she spoke softly. It came out a lot mouseyer and somehow sexual than she would have liked but she refused to back out of her statement. "I can't wait."
She didn't say another word but simply slung her back over her shoulder and made her way out of the class. Tom followed her figure in complete and utter shock. He praised whatever god watched over him for the small mercy that was having y/n's back turned to him to witness his immediate blush cover his entire freckled face.
Tom never let his eyes leave her. He just watched her waltz right out of his classroom, he bit his lip at the sight of her perfectly cupped ass in her jeans. Through-out the entire lesson, all he could think about is how her tits would bounce as his dick thrusted up into her little cunt. Just the thought made his cock spring to life.
He stared up at the clock. He had to be in another lecture in 10 minutes, he had to teach another round of student without her pretty face in it in 10 bloody minutes. Sadly, it wasn't enough time to imagine cumming over her said face. He fidgeted until his painful erection was safely hidden.
God, you are such a fucking creep, Holland. He thought to himself.
━━★✼☆。
y/n really didn't want to be doing this.
She really didn't want to have to walk to the library in a mini skirt she had when she went through her cringy hoe phase and a low-cut tank top she only really wore to bed at 8 at night. Luckily before she left, her roommate gave her a full can of pepper spray and a pocketknife. A handle tool for when you looked like a prostitute.
She had no choice. It was laundry night and she had to get her assignment out of the way, or she would never finish it in time. She wanted to kick herself for letting laundry night fall on the only night the library stayed open until midnight. It was a perk for sure but not when you had nothing to wear but pink neon rags.
y/n pushed open the library door and relieved herself of the anxiety of being abducted by the greeting of Harry. He looked familiar but she couldn't pinpoint where she had seen his face before.
"What cha doing here?" he shouted. Quite contradictory for a librarian. y/n grinned when she saw his dorky face at the counter. That is until he caught wind of her outfit, or lack thereof. "Got a late shift at the strip-club after this?" Her face fell.
"I hate you," she played along, her arms slumping on the cold desk. y/n looked around the library. It was basically empty, with the exception of the middle-aged teacher grading a stack full of papers. Poor bastard, y/n thought. "Got one for me?"
"You're going to get me fired if I do this again," Harry huffed, he banged his head against the keyboard in frustration.
"This is the last time," y/n explained, "I pinkie promise." She lifted her hand over the counter and waved her pinkie finger in Harry's face. He stared up her than move his eyeline to her finger now just touching the tip of his nose. He groaned loudly as he took her finger in his.
"There is a ton of empty booths, choose one and don't make a sound," Harry told her angrily, y/n simply clapped her hands in celebration and skipped off. She chooses the booth in range of Harry, in hopes that maybe he will distracted her and she won't have to do her work because she's too busy goofing off.
y/n dropped her stuff in a huff. Her back slumped into the curve of the chair and the desk covered her body happily. She placed her earphones in and played her favourite study music. She was in absolute heaven.
The assignment was kicking her ass, but she was determined to do it. Mr. Holland seemed genuinely excited for what she would write about if she did decide to change the topic. Now though she's regretting not letting Mr. Holland's hopes down.
She could find hardly anything online and even if she did it was by some random SJW on Tumblr. That's what lead her here tonight. In hopes that maybe some privileged white asshole with a degree would have some sources sighted to help her. Unfortunately, she was having trouble with that too.
It was now 11:30pm. She had been at this god forsaken table for two and a half hours now in an endless pursuit of bullshit. y/n had half a mind to give up and just suck his dick for the grade like other girls would in this situation. y/n had to remind herself though, she is a gifted woman with a real talent that should not be wasted on something shitty to please the masses. Did she just quote Mr. Holland?
She caught eyes with Harry in her block, who had two pencils stuck up his nose in an attempt to cheer her up. It did for the most part. y/n wanted to play along but it had seemed someone else had walked through the door at that very moment and Harry threw the pencils out. Harry's face lit up with red upon the arrival of this mystery person. y/n was interested in who this mystery person was. That is until she saw his face.
Mr. Holland walked up to the library desk in a fit of laughter. His hands smacking the counter and his face contorted in a wide smile. y/n instantly ducked under the table. She could faintly hear their conversation. It just sounded like muffled words until her name popped up.
Jesus Christ. Not now. Not tonight. Why of all night to run into his must it have to be tonight. Maybe I should make a run for it now, bust out of the wind-
"I know you're under there y/n," Mr. Holland's voice sung above her. It was too late now. Any escape plan that her mind frantically tried to rationalise was long gone by this point. Slowly, y/n retreated from her hiding spot to face him. He had his normal outfit of a tight t-shirt paired with a decorative tie and slightly lose pants. This time though he had a long burgundy coat draped over his shoulders. He looked like a painting. y/n smiled sheepishly.
"Hi," she said simply. Regaining her seat from before and fully appearing in front of him. "I had no idea you would be here this late," she tried with conversation.
"Harry's my brother, I have to drive him home before leaving myself and he just wanted to work the late shift tonight," Tom laughed to himself and he turned around and waved at Harry. His brother waved back guiltily. "You know, I could say this same to you," he smirked at her.
"I am working on your assignment, sir," y/n responded quietly. Tom's eyes lit up at that and he rushed to snatch the papers off her desk and into his hands. Much to the disapproval of y/n.
"Oh good, you've decided to change it," Tom sounded almost relieved as if he trusted her judgement more than his own. Worse of it all, he decided to sit down next to her. Even taking off his coat, making his biceps bulge through his shirt. His eyes flicked through what she currently has. His eyebrows raised in shock, "I have to say, I was not expected you to decide to do something about the female orgasm and its effect on the psyche," his voice was an octave deeper than usual. y/n could feel her arousal building.
y/n couldn't decide if he was just being friendly or if he was trying to send a deeper message. Either way, she decided to take action. "Well, with the number of women being unsatisfied I thought it was an appropriate topic," she snatched the papers out of his hands, "but you wouldn't know anything about women being unsatisfied would you sir?"
Tom sat there in astonishment. His cock stiffened against the restraints of his jeans, he has only been in her vicinity for 5 minutes and already she has him hard as a rock. It was times like these that he wished he could just leave all his determination to fuck her over this very desk at the door. Regrettably, he couldn't.
"Well, that just ruins the surprise," y/n sighed delicately. Her fingers flicking through the pages of her useless book. "Either way, the resources are complete shit," this time her sadness was real, and Tom snapped out of his lust-ridden haze.
"Did you really expect a man to know mostly everything of something that is so cardinally female?" Tom smirked as he closed the book on her and pointed to the photo of a wrinkled old man. He was the author of a stupid book and to be fair, he looked like he would write this type of book as well.
"Damn, I knew I was doing something wrong," y/n hissed. She had been spending her entire night trying to piece together information from a man who can only give her half the story.
"The book on the top shelf is one on the chemical effects of orgasming in females by a female," Tom leaned in and whispered in her ear. His hot breath wafted of her skin; it was enough to send goose bumps over her entire body. y/n turned her head to face him, their lips inches away from each other. If they didn't have Harry watching them like a hawk, they probably would be out of breath from lip-locking. Instead, y/n nodded and got up out of her seat, making sure to give him a stunning view of her tits through her tank top. He wanted to audibly gasp but kept in inside. It didn't help with his situation downstairs any more than the last few minutes have.
Slowly, she walked over to the bookcase. Her eyes scanning the endless rows and she made sure Tom had enough time to enjoy the deep red thong underneath her skirt. Finally, her fingers coiled around the book and brought it down to her. Tom couldn't believe his own eyes. He was so under her spell. The way her top hugged her curved and let his eyes completely drink in her breasts. How her skirt was pulled up to her waist, allowing the flushed skin of her ass to be visible to him. He wonders how a woman like her even exists and yet she takes a seat next to him, absolutely unaware of his throbbing manhood. Begging to be touched by her, to be taken by her, by anything to do with her.
"Thank you, sir," she almost purrs to him, Tom's struggling to keep it together. He afraid the next thing to slip out of her flawless mouth, he'll cum straight into his pants when he would rather cum into her.
"Anytime," he responds just a dark before getting up. Hiding his clearly hard cock behind his briefcase. "I'll see you in class?" He already knows the answer, but he just wants the last bit of assurance from her.
"Of course," she smiled warmly. With that Tom basically books it, he's frantically making sure he's well-hidden as he quickly bends over the counter.
"I'll come back to pick you up in 30, I forgot some paper work back in my office," it's so fast, Harry almost doesn't have time to translate it before Tom's out the door and rushing down the hall.
At one point, he basically running to get to his office. Feet tapping against the concrete as he continues to see nothing but flashing images of y/n. It blurs his vision and he's so desperate. He considers using a spare supply closet but know he will only get complete privacy in his own office.
He finally gets there, after what seems like an eternity of running. He checks the hallways before entering. He drops all of his things at the foot of the door. He even has the decency to hang his coat upon the rack. Tom slowly walks over to his chair. It's a rough leather material and usually he would refuse to do what he's about to do in here, it will be stained with the memory but at this point. He got no fucks left to give.
He crashes down. His back hitting the material he hates so much. He doesn't think he's got time, but he still does it slowly. His belt drops next to his and he undoes the zip slowly and the cold air hits his dick. He hisses at the feeling but proceeds anyways. Tom pulls the rest of his jeans and boxers down his legs and kicks them across the room. His hand takes his dick, slowly rubbing the head. Imaging y/n's fingers dancing over it, spreading the precum over. He uses his palm to envision her own stroking up and down in an even motion. He can't help but moan. He can't help but softly call out her name.
He so entranced that he doesn't recognize the following light footsteps approaching. He's so into her non-existent touch that he doesn't hear the door peacefully squeak open. He's so in love with the feeling he doesn't feel y/n walk around the room to get on her knees in front of him.
She's in glory of his movements. Watching him stroke his much bigger cock than her masturbation version has her in a hurry to get her own panties off her body and across the floor. She's sure she's dripping onto the wood below but she does have single care in the world. Tom has his head thrown back in ecstasy as his hand starts to speed up, that's when y/n decides to go for the kill. She licks a long strip up his shaft. Her hands stabilizing him by placing them atop his bare thighs.
Tom almost jumps out of his chair. He had no idea she caught him in the middle of something so vile and wrong. Better yet, she had caught him with the tip of his dick around her perfectly glossed lips. He doesn't get to say another word before y/n's hands begin massaging the bottom of his manhood. It's slow to begin with, it's almost if she's easing him into it. Her cheeks hollow out to allow his length into her warm mouth. It's incredible. Tom can't help but buck his hips up into her throat causing her to gag slightly. It's a sound he wants more of.
His hands ball her hair into his fist. With the faster her movements become, the harder he fucks into her mouth. They sync up almost instantly. One of y/n's hands leave his cock to fuck herself. Tom's mesmerised by the way her fingers act as a replacement for his dick. He's certain he's not going to last much longer.
"I should be d-doing that," he whispers through grunts. y/n lifts her head to smile at him, still letting her free hand jerk and pull bringing him closer the edge.
"I know," she responds, just as quiet. Her mouth reconnects but Tom quickly snaps his hips up into her. Her muffled moaning vibrated against his cock as he fucks her mouth. It's the hottest thing he's ever done. He tugs and pulls at her hair, y/n's edging him on. She's exquisite, it's like she's mastered this and has allowed him to chance to feel how fucking beautiful her little mouth can be.
Like it's effortless, he comes. Without any warning, he is shooting hot stream of cum into her mouth, filling it up. Tom swears he's seeing stars but can't bring him to call out her name but instead bites down on his hand so hard he's afraid he's drawn blood.
y/n releases him from her mouth and is from an actual porn Tom spent his teenage years watching, his cum leaks from her lips and falls down on the curves of her tits. It's a sight he was to remember forever. He wants to grab his phone and click so he will get to look at her covered in his cum for the rest of his life but alas, he's still regaining his bearings.
"Tastes better than I would have expected," y/n giggles as she brings the liquid back up to her lips and swallows. There is no way this woman gets better; he thinks to himself.
"Sweetheart-," he begins but she beats him to it, her gets back on her feet and plants a sweet kiss upon his lips. He can taste himself on her lips, it's addictive.
"I wanted this," it's almost as if she read his mind. He doesn't respond but he simply looks at her, his hand coming up to twirl a strand of hair that has fallen in front of her face.
y/n pulls away from him, walking over the pile of discarded clothes and bend to pick up her soaked underwear. She gives Tom a look, he's so close he can smell her juices from his seat. Her pussy look like a paradise waiting to be exploded by him, but he keeps his hands to himself. y/n paced herself over to the coat hanger, her folded panties in hand. She places them in the left pocket with a devilish smile upon her face. Tom had now place their rest of his clothes back on and had joined her.
"I'll get them back next lesson," y/n grins. Tom nods quickly, their feet fumbling under her back hits his office door. She's trapped in between him, he smells of pure sex but she's committed to her idea. He bends down to capture her lips in his with a forceful kiss. It's hungry and needy. She wants it so badly to give but she pulls away. "My roommate is waiting for me outside."
"We'll finish this," Tom whispers as he opens the door for her. It sends shivers down y/n's spine. It's not a promise, it's an order.
She grabs the rest of her things and heads off. Almost in a sick turn of events, Tom watches her bare ass strut away from him. Just like the last lesson, except this time all he can do is imagine him face fucking her. It's a beautiful sight.
━━★✼☆。
The three days leading up to class where probably the slowest 72 hours both of them had ever experienced. A constant detail of pleasure from the night before. So when the fated day arrived, both parties didn't know what to do. Tom debated just staying home, though he couldn't deny he so desperately want just another taste. He thought, if he didn't show up, all his guilty conscience of a student giving him the best head he's ever had in his life would simply disappear and he would go back to being a normal teacher. y/n, too, thought of skipping this class for a completely different reason. Perhaps she had got a surge of confidence after hearing her professor call out her name while he touched himself or it could just be the pure scandalous nature of it all. Either way, she wanted to stay cooped up with a blanket while she watched him unravelled. No matter the psyche from the both of them, they went.
y/n stood outside the classroom for a good 20 minutes, unsure of what she should do. Should she go in now and fuck him in the small window or wait and play with his emotions? She hadn't realised how fast the time had went until she saw other student's start entering. It was now or never and unfortunately it was going to be now.
The room was smaller than y/n remember when she stepped in. It seemed more wide the last time she came in here. Of course, the last time she came in her, she hadn't sucked Mr. Holland's cock.
Her eyes landed on him in a matter of seconds. His back was turned to her as he wrote on the massive blackboard in front of him. y/n could see his muscles flex as he tried to reach for the duster above the board. She bit her lip as she thought of her nails digging into his back as he fucked her. It was a fantasy she had to push to the side.
Tom could practically smell her once she walked in. It was her normal perfume that had been intensified 10 fold. He refuses to turn around, afraid that if he did all his good heart nature would go out the window. Tom could hear the faint clinking of the heels of her shoes walk up the stairs. He so desperately wanted them to come right back down.
"Okay, as you know, you're assignment is due in 2 weeks and this is going to be the only time I will answer your questions," Tom's voice boomed. He hadn't got a lot of sleep since that night and he didn't particularly want to do this but he considered himself a kind professor, so he had too.
He turned around and saw the entire class' hands go straight up in the air. Including y/n, though hers was a little lower. Her eyebrow raised and a small smirk painted on her lips. There was no way in hell he was answer whatever question came out of those pretty lips. She looked even more exquisite than when he last saw her. A tight t-shit that had a stained 50's logo on it and a pair of tight black jeans, he knew as soon as he spoke to her, he would loose all control on himself.
So he never did, constantly dodging her. Answering every single question, even if half of them were if he was married or worse if he was free Friday night. He will admit, seeing y/n get frustrated every time he passed her to talk to another young female student made him just that tad bit excited.
It was an hour and a half of pure tension. Sure, no one else in the class could feel it but they 100% could. She never felt more out of control and for some reason, she despised it. He kept ignoring her, kept refusing her, kept defying her. It was infuriating, that she wanted to take fate by the hair.
She waited, until every single soul had walked out of the door. She waited until the last gaggle of girls had finished their blabbering to Tom before she starting to strut down the stairs. Tom refused to meet her eyes even when he knew that's all she did. Glare at him as she stomped past him desk to the classroom door. He heard it lock.
"I wanted to ask you a question," she almost spat, "sir."
Tom straightened himself before swivelled around to meet her. She was so livid with him but he knew deep down that all she wanted from him was to have the white chalk from the board rubbed up her back from him pinning her down.
"Fire away," he responded exactly the same. She stared at him for a moment before strolling towards him. She made sure to swing her hips every other time. She noticed his eyes on her, finally she was getting somewhere.
y/n pressed her chest upon his heaving one. Her face lifting to meet his. They stayed like that for a good minute, just pondering. They listened to each other's heats thumping against their rib cages. They both desperately needed this.
Never taking her eyes off him, y/n snaked her hand around the side of pocket of her coat, smiling once she found what she left. Her soaked red thong, it was a sight for sore eyes.
"I wanted to ask if I was every going to get payback?" she giggled softly. Tom knew she was playing a game but he had no idea which one it was.
"I don't think I understand," he stammered, she strutted away from him until she met the edge of his stainless desk. Her fingers gliding over the wood ever so slightly. She turned her head to look at him. She had a rawness in her eyes; lustful, a sinner's stare. It would be a look Tom was never forget for the rest of his life.
y/n suddenly jumped on the desk. Her ass moving the papers to the side as she slowly started to unbutton her tight jeans. "I think you do," it was almost a hiss but he only heard the desperation in her voice. "I want you to make me feel all the things you did that night."
Tom almost fainted just with that until she dropped her jeans the floor. She had come to class without any underwear on and her wetness was dripping onto the desk. Tom was sure was in heaven but he didn't want to believe it.
He got on his knees. His hands palming at her soft thighs. Tom didn't need another incentive, he didn't need another spur-on. Tom licked a single strip up her folds, y/n bit a moan back. It was like tasting ambrosia or doing cocaine for the first time. He needed more, so he went back in again, this time it was rougher. His fingers gripping at her ass, pulling her closer to his mouth as he devoured as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. Her hands tangle themselves in his floppy curls, she tugs harshly on his scalp as he adds a finger into her warm entrance.
Tom's never felt like this before but he doesn't care. He's sure people can hear her soft but frantic moaning from outside, but he doesn't care. He'll never look at his desk the same way but like everything else, he doesn't fucking care. Tom curls his fingers in the perfect spot inside of her.
"Just like that," y/n calls out, her hair now sprawled out on the desk. "I'm going to cum sir."
Tom feels her walls contract around his fingers as he pulsing faster, her back arches and she trying so hard to force her cries back into her throat. It's a sight he wants to from above, it's a feeling he wants to feel inside of her. So, at the last minute, he retracts everything. His tongue leaves her throbbing clit and his finger, which are glistening with her slick, slid out of her.
y/n can't hold back to whine that leaves her left from the loss of his god-like tongue and fingers. "What the fuck Tom?!" she's angry with him, she wants to tell him off but before she can do it. One of his hands captures her wrist and slams them against the desk below her, pinning her to it. She whimpers at the sting of pain.
He's right above her but she can't see a single thing below her. "Look at me," he tells her sternly, she does what's she is told instantly. "You can't talk to me like that sweetness," y/n knows there is a venom behind his words even if she speaks in a melody. "I'm not your fucking boyfriend, you don't call me that."
Without any warning at all, he pounds right up into her. y/n almost spasms out of Tom's grip from the wave of pleasure. Tom doesn't move at all, he stays nuzzled inside her. It's agonising, almost painful for y/n. Having his perfect cock not jamming into her tight cunt. It's torture.
"You understand that?" he peppers kissed against the nape of her neck, she's about to cry out, she'll do anything. She nods her head frantically, hoping it's enough. It isn't. He keeps his hips locked tightly against hers. "Words, sweetness."
"Yes," she responds. She can feel him frown against her skin. He pulls right out of her and rams right back in, causing y/n to scream out in pleasure. "Y-yes sir," she corrects herself and with that, Tom starts a pace. It's slow and tantalising, he watches amazed at how her pretty folds swallow him up with every thrust. It's magnificent.
He wants to savour this moment forever. He wants to fuck her brains out for every waking moment of his existence.
"Sir, go harder," she moans below him. Her wrists bruised from his gripped, but the pain just only contributes in her overwhelming amount of pleasure. His thick cock is so much better than her fingers, no matter how many she adds.
Tom obliges and starts to really pound into her cunt. It's raw and ruthless, he's calling out her name now. "Fuck sweetness, you so bloody tight," he purrs, y/n can't respond through her chant of curses. "You're little cunt was made for me, it was made for me to stretch it out."
The dirty talk elevates her, y/n's not sure how much longer she'll last. His filling ever last inch of her. She can feel her tits bounce every time their skin collides. Her wrists are finally let free as he begins to clutch at her naked hips. It's an experience she's never felt. The sound of skin slapping and their combined gasping and cursing are the only thing she can perceive to hear. If there was a knock at the door, y/n knows she would have no idea about it.
Perhaps, it's the pure excitement and morality of this whole situation that makes them both feel like they're on cloud nine. Her arms snake around his waist, her hands move with every rough thrust into her. She's gripping onto his back through the material of his tight shirt. Her nails clasping on the contracting muscles. She would have left his back red and sore if he didn't have the damned t-shirt on to protect him.
"Fuck," she curses as he started to hit an area inside of her, she never knew existed. "Just like that sir, I am going to cum," she moans, her forehead against his. They lock eyes again, this time though there is no linger feeling of want or romance. It's just sex. Dirty, hot, intense fucking.
She's the first to come undone. The fire now transformed into a raging wildfire spreading across her entire abdomen. y/n throws her head back in ecstasy, her whole vision goes black and she has to bit down against her hand to stop and inevitable pornographic scream to jump out of her mouth. Her other hand clutches his neck, pulling him closer to her.
Tom follows shortly after, his thrusts become sloppy and erratic but never easing up. His cock twitches inside of her before he shots the hot white liquid all inside of her cunt. He pressed his lips against her as his attempt to stop his moan as well but he continues to call out her angelic name against her lips. Once, Tom pulls out of her, he watches in awe. The mixture leaks out of her hole and then pools on his desk. He's so in love with this woman it hurts.
"I have never cum that hard in my entire fucking life," she giggles, pulling her top down her flushed tits. As he too, starts to redress himself, he simply stares at her. Watches her retrieve her jeans from the floor and slip them up her bare ass. He spots her shove her panties back into his back pocket, not before she scribbles something down on a torn piece of paper.
"What are you doing?" he asked gently, wrapping his arms around her waist. She nuzzles her face in the crook of her.
"I'm giving you a reason to come make me dinner and then fuck me again," she explains, "I put my address in there, so hopefully you can't get lost."
"You sure about this," Tom asked hesitantly, y/n now swivelled around to face him. Her warm palm caressed his face.
"I wouldn't have just done that if I wasn't," she places a soft, tender kiss to his cheek. "Make it a Thursday though, my roommate will be out on those nights," she told him as he grabbed the last of her things and unlocked the door. Tom grins warmly as she makes herself presentable for the last time. "I would clean that up if I were you," y/n laughed, pointing at the obvious mess all over his desk before quickly exiting.
As she wobbled back to her dorm, she wondered what article of clothing she should leave out on their next escapade.
━━★✼☆。
a/n: this is gonna flop, i just fuckin know it 🥴 anways i hope you enjoyed my fic that has ended my hiatus. see you (hopefully) soon 🥺
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disloopy · 3 years
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𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐞
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i wanted to write a college au but i was also horny so this came into existence.
tendou satori
word count: 6199
genre: smut but with a plot??
It was hard to study with your parents constantly bickering in the living room downstairs. Ever since you moved back in with them, you've found it hard to concentrate on virtually anything besides their frequent, yet petty, arguments. Sometimes you'd stay at college late into the evenings under the guise of classes and assignments but really you just hated being around them. The stress of school was already a mounting threat without the emotional toll of your parents' nearly shattered relationship.
Scraping your chair back as you stood up, you decided you'd had enough. You shoved your textbooks, notebooks, and some random clothing articles from the top of your drawer into a bag and ran down the stairs. Your mother twisted her body around to face you from the couch, an eyebrow raised.
"Where are you going, young lady?" 
You didn't look at her in the process of yanking on your shoes. "I'm going to Sam's house or am I not even allowed to visit her without you breathing down my neck?" you asked sharply, feeling your heart hammer in your chest. You were fed up. "I'm twenty and under no obligation to listen to the two of you arguing about whatever movie you want to watch just because you don't have the cajones to discuss the real issue!"
With finality, you slammed the door shut behind you and hopped onto your bike, pedaling as fast as legally possible out of the neighborhood. You always knew that the main reason your parents had urged you to move back in with them was to fill the empty void their failed marriage left in the house. At first, even you were convinced that your presence would revitalize their marriage and they'd remember why they loved each other from the start.
However, their own child wasn't enough to give them a reason to put aside their differences and love each other for what they were - a family; a family, you knew, should be willing to sacrifice a part of their individual lives for each other, that's what it meant to be married.
But your parents weren't even willing to confront the problem -- not being in love with each other anymore -- much less work it out. At your age, you were aware of the fact that love wasn't all a marriage needed, there was responsibility and sacrifice and with a little understanding, the love could be rekindled, not just once but multiple times throughout the life spent together. The last thing you'd want was for them to separate and you were quite certain that with a little communication this hellish nightmare could be put past them. They were immature, you concluded. Your parents wanted to ignore it altogether, which would only leave them stumped at this obstacle, growing angrier with each bland dinner and mismatched grocery.
You couldn't take it anymore. Stopping your bike at a nearby convenience store to pick up a few snacks, you texted your boyfriend, Tendo. He was usually around, and usually free -- plus, he lived in a dorm all by himself. It was the perfect escape from your exhausting household. Without waiting for a reply, you journeyed across a few streets to get to the college residence and parked your bike anywhere. It wasn't worth enough to get stolen and even if some desperate thief decided to have some fun, it would only serve as an excuse for your parents to finally get you a car.
After the long and silent elevator ride which seemed to compress you on all sides, you arrive at the seventh floor and felt your shoulders relax almost immediately. You'd been here so many times it was like a second home to you. Tendo's place always gave you the relief you wanted after a tiresome day of school, or your parents, or both.
Struggling to keep the strap of your heavy bag filled with books, clothes, and food on your shoulder, you lightly knocked on the front door. There were sounds of incomprehensible yelling and laughter coming from inside which you thought was strange but not enough to question it.
When there was no answer and you were fed up with waiting, you decided to try the knob which was surprisingly unlocked. So, you entered the house and called out loudly, "Tendo? It's Y/N". Not even a step later, a strong scent of weed hit your nose directly and you winced.
"Y/N?" said a voice, followed by Tendo rolling back in a computer chair, tugging his headset to his neck with the hand that wasn't latched onto the controller, his eyes wide in pleasant surprise. 
"Hey," you said quietly, smiling at the sight of him. "I texted you . . ."
"Oh, sorry. I was in a game so I didn't check my phone," Tendo murmured, throwing a distracted glance at his phone on the couch before immediately returning his attention to the screen, his headset back on his ears. "I SAID COVER ME!" 
"He's been yelling all match," someone said and you startled, looking back at the couch to see one of Tendo's friends, Semi, sitting cross-legged on the couch, a hoodie covering most of his head and a bong tucked between his thighs. It was unusual for Tendo to have friends over. Even at school, he rarely sat with a large group of friends for long. On weekends, it was mostly just you and him when it could be.
"I swear I'm playing with 11 year olds," Tendo remarked as the screen flashed red, signaling his team's failure. He spun around in his chair and glanced between you and Semi. "Sit down, Y/N, what the fuck. Semi got kicked out of his parents house so he's gonna be here for a while."
You widened your eyes. "You got kicked out?"
The ashy-blonde haired boy nodded, seeming casual as he fiddled with the bong. "They caught me smoking in the basement and said they didn't want me back till I quit," he explained with a shrug. "I miss my drum set but I'd rather be free to smoke, if I'm being honest."
Tendo shook his head, amused. "Get a fucking job, Semi -- then you can pay for half of this place and we can live together."
"Really?" Semi's eyes lit up and he seemed attentive for the first time that night. "I totally should, huh? I can work at some government institute, you know? They'll see that I'm smart since I major in political science . . ." 
"Tendo, can I get in the shower?" you asked and Tendo nodded of course. As you were about to disappear down the hall before turning around and feeling blush creep onto your cheeks when Tendo gave you a questioning look. "Um . . . I also . . . Wanted to stay here for a bit. My parents are just really . . ."
"You can!" Tendo said with an enthusiasm that made your heart jump with pleasure. "It'll be fun with the three of us. I'm sorry about your parents though." 
The shower was warm and almost therapeutic with the muffled sounds of Tendo's frustration with his team and Semi teasing him about it. You even sat down on the porcelain for a bit, the soothing water sprinkling down on your bare body. When you had finally decided to come out, you found that Semi was eating the snacks you'd brought along with you. Although you were initially doubtful of him staying over with you and Tendo, you quickly grew more open about it. He was normally quiet and serious, but the weed seemed to open him up to being actually friendly and talkative, not failing to make you laugh several times that evening.
"Yo, if you make my girl laugh that much I'm gonna have to ask you to leave," Tendo said, throwing a cheeto at Semi's head. 
You eventually fell asleep on the couch, Tendo and Semi's voice almost serving as a lullaby. You'd rather hear their weed-inspired symposium in your sleepy stupors than the sound of your parents arguing. Some time that night, unknown to the dizzy you, Tendo had hauled you into his arms and transferred you to the warm security of his bed, wrapping his covers around you, and then wrapping his arms around you. 
The next morning, Semi was already gone for an 8am class. Despite sharing Tendo's major, he had registered very late and got the worst schedule a student could ask for. You and Tendo, however, were able to fool around in the bathroom (no, not like that. Tendo spit toothpaste on you), and eat lazy bowls of cereal before heading out, walking under the warm morning sun to get to campus.
When you'd arrived at your own class, Tendo let you know he'd wait for you at the college center after class. You checked your phone while the professor was setting up his stuff. Disappointment settled in your chest at the realization that your parents hadn't bothered to check up on you. You hadn't given them the heads-up that you would be staying over at "Sam's" house and although you declared that you weren't under their jurisdiction, you half-expected a "should we wait up for you?" text from either parent.
You tried to push your dejectedness and self-pity in order to pay attention to your lecture. The anger formed into a kind of resistance, telling you to stay as contactless from them as possible, waiting for one of them to care about your absence, or at least notice.
After class, you stopped by the vending machine to buy Tendo and yourself two bottles of juice before walking with your head down to the college center. You didn't want to see any of your friends or anyone for that matter. You wanted to be alone . . . With Tendo. He knew how to give you the reassurance and comfort you needed without uttering a single word. Sometimes you wondered if he was even aware of the effect he had on you. Did he know how his mere presence could reduce your anxiety? The man was like a remedy.
You spotted Tendo slumped on one of the couches, thumbs tapping away on his phone and you were almost certain he was engaged in a game of COD mobile. Then he seemed to notice you and he lifted his bright red-haired head up, shoving his phone in his pocket.
"Damn bay-bee!" Tendo whistled and you rolled your eyes as an instant reaction to his typical attention-drawing behaviour. "Hot girl alert," he announced, grinning at you.
"Shut up!" you yelled, chucking a juice bottle at him, which he caught with extraneous ease. You would've been surprised if you weren't already familiar with the fact that he, along with Semi, were on the volleyball team of a prestigious high school. He never failed to remind you and always talked about a mysterious "best friend" named Ushijima who he strongly believed would be famous one day.
Grateful that no one was staring at you two anymore, you collapsed next to Tendo, resting your head on his shoulder. He had produced his phone once again and you realized he had been texting Semi. You didn't want to intrude on his messages but you couldn't help catch parts of the conversation. He was going out drinking with Semi later because they had both received excellent grades on one of their tests. This also didn't come as a surprise because although you've never actually seen Tendo studying, he always did well on his tests.
Tendo turned to you. "You can go ahead back to my place," he suggested, twirling his dorm keys around his finger as he handed them to you. You gave him a small smile when he left you with a parting kiss on the lips as you separated for your next class.
You didn't see him again before leaving campus to return to Tendo's house. As you walked, you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. Why hadn't Tendo ask you to join him? You shook your head, why were you even thinking of such a thing when you knew you hated drinking? But some uncomfortable tug in your chest left you questioning whether Tendo even wanted you at his place. Maybe he had accepted to be polite, or because he felt sorry for you . . . or because he didn't want to say no to you in front of Semi.
The biting thoughts bounced around your head, a reminder that Tendo loved you popping up every now and then to shoot those thoughts into a corner but not doing much to quell your worries.
You spent your evening studying, getting excited only at the occasional text from Tendo, making sure you got home fine, or that you knew you could eat anything in his fridge, or sleep in his bed if you were tired, or play on his PlayStation if you were bored. You did neither of those things, not touching a single thing in his kitchen even while your poor stomach cried with hungry grumbles.
You felt sick to your stomach, opting to switch on the television for background noise as you hugged your knees on the couch. There was an aching fear building up inside of you, fear that you were as unwanted to your boyfriend as you were to your own parents. You knew you shouldn't have been insecure, he'd always been there for you and never gave you a reason to doubt him.
But it had been quite a while since he'd last told that he loved you, sincerely, from the bottom of his heart. A lot could change within a person in that sort of time. And the last time the two of you had sex or even really made out was several months ago before you moved in with your parents. You could blame that on the chaos of school, both of you being in your second-years with exams and pressure to find jobs keeping your heads under water.
Nonetheless, the fear of Tendo falling out of love with you the same way your father fell out of love with your mother still existed and was still very real. You could always untangle this very confusing frustration with Tendo, he'd never shied away from important conversations. However, despite the many insecurities he'd helped you through, this just wasn't one you wanted him to hear.
And maybe you were like your parents in that way . . .
You dropped your head into your lap, feeling the burn of tears in your eyes, your chest tightening under the pressure of the worries you knew had no foundations but still pushed their way into your system. Eventually, your eyes had drooped and your brain was shifting in and out of focus with the screen before you.
Before you could really fall asleep though, you heard the sound of the door opening and Tendo's voice informing you of his presence. You hummed in response and Tendo furrowed his brows at you, jumping in next to you on the couch. You could tell he was still a little delirious from drinking but not enough to turn you away from him, as you usually did when he got completely wasted.
"Y/N, I went to the corner store on the way back and got you the cake you said you really liked," Tendo mumbled, putting his arms around you and pulling you closer. You wanted the cake, sure, but to be truthful, you wanted him more than anything.
"I just wanna fuck," you blurted out and Tendo's head instantly snapped up to look at you, a lazy grin pulling at the edges of his lips.
"Uh? You wanna what?"
You blushed, tugging your knees to your chest but Tendo's hands were already on them, pulling them apart. "I said I wanna fuck," you murmur.
"That's right, baby," said Tendo, settling himself between your thighs as he licked his lips. "I knew what you said, I wanted to hear you say it again."
"I got it, stupid," you told him, curling your fingers around the shoulders of Tendo's shirt and bringing his chest to yours before connecting your lips. The effect was immediate. You simultaneously relaxed and tensed up underneath the weight of his body, completely winded by the effortlessness with which his tongue moved past your lips and pressed to your own.
"You're right, I deserve this," Tendo breathed against your lips, a hand going to your thigh and guiding your leg around his waist. You hadn't said that but didn't care enough to point it out. "I can't call it a treat without wrecking this pretty body of yours." Your heart fluttered with his words and you watched him trail his lips down your chin, jaw, and neck toward the now exposed skin of your chest as he hooked a finger over the collar of your sweater and forced it down.
You shut your eyes, drowning in the anxious ecstasy of what was to come, the outcome of all this; him inside of you, filling you up, and fighting off all your worries with each sway of his hips against yours.
His teeth grazed against your skin and you pressed your lips together, knowing it was going to be followed by a bite and it did. Tendo bit and tugged at your sensitive skin, earning a pained gasp from your lips before smoothing over the sting with his tongue. It hurt but in that good way you never wanted it to stop, not until every inch of your body was covered in marks from him and only him.
Tendo had always liked to take his time. Even now, with you practically squirming and wordlessly begging for him. You could tell by the way he rubbed the seam of his jeans right against the very spot you craved him most, knocking the air out of your lungs and making your hips snap up against his, which caused you both to moan (Tendo's turned into choked laughter). He usually opted to wear sweatpants or, at best, trousers, but the roughness of his jeans really did amplify the feeling and although it made you throb almost everywhere, you were starting to get impatient.
"Jinx," Tendo groaned, dropping his head into the crook of your neck as your fingernails raked through his messy hair.
"Shut up, Tendo, just . . . Fuck . . . Get inside already," you said between shallow breaths. Tendo was already doing that, wedging a hand between both your bodies to unbutton his jeans. But between making jokes of your desperation and dry-humping you right on his couch, Tendo (and you) failed to realize that you had company.
The sound of the door swinging open almost completely shattered your preoccupation with each other. Tendo dragged himself off you and onto his knees while you propped yourself up, slightly embarrassed but more so disappointed when Semi walked into the living room, squinting at the two of you.
"Oh," he said, realizing what he had interrupted with a nod. High Semi was a lot different than this not-very-drunk or just-sober-enough Semi, who was stoic and didn't laugh the awkwardness off like you expected. "S-sorry about that," he stuttered and made to head towards his own room.
Tendo turned back to you with a smile that told you he didn't mind continuing what you two had already started. He didn't mind . . . But that probably didn't mean he wanted to. Neither did you with Semi in the next room. The heavy feeling from earlier took residence in your stomach once more, unwarranted and so quick you felt tears spring to your eyes.
Pushing Tendo off, you ran to his room in order to cry without his prying eyes, kind as they were. But you knew you wouldn't have the room for very long. The five minutes you really were alone, you were quite sure Tendo was trying to give you space or wonder what he'd done wrong. Then the door opened and he stepped in and you buried your head in your hands.
"Y/N, what the fuck is up with you?" He asked, but in a gentle tone before you felt his hand on your back, rubbing soothingly. "Why are you crying, hm? Look at me." Tendo tugged on your forearm and practically forced your head up. You stared at him through tear-blurry vision.
"Why didn't you invite me to come with you and Semi?" You stuttered dumbly and Tendo blinked in surprise.
"I-I didn't think you'd want to come," he answered with a shrug and a look of guilt marred the fond carelessness of his face. "Usually you say no . . . I'm sorry, I should've asked."
You shook your head quickly and realized you were doing exactly what you hated about your parents: avoiding the problem. But how could you not avoid the problem when the problem was questioning his love for you? Maybe you were the immature one, thinking talking about those things was so simple. It wasn't.
So you just said, "Sorry, I've been having a rough week . . . "
Tendo nodded, understanding. "Do you want Semi out of here?"
"W-What? No, no, no," you said quickly, wiping your wet eyes. "He needs somewhere to stay, I-I don't mind. It's mostly just . . . " you braced yourself to finally voice your fear out loud. Tendo's eyes on you, full of concern and attention. "I'm sick of my parents," you ended up saying and then cringed with your whole body.
"They fighting again?" Tendo asked, wrapping an arm around your waist and maneuvering the two of you against the bed frame to lean back. You leaned into his chest and relaxed in the comforting scent of him.
"They haven't checked up on me," you murmured, feeling slightly embarrassed for needing your parents attention this much. Tendo just stroked his fingers through your hair, intently listening. "I didn't tell them I'd be away from home and I usually never am. But they haven't even texted me to ask. I just feel like I'm not wanted there."
"They're probably just lost in their own issues to even think about dealing with you," Tendo said and he seemed to have the simplest answers to the complicated worries in your heart. "Stay here with me, just until they really get worried. Besides you're wanted here all the time."
You lifted your head and smiled. "Thanks Tendo, I-I love you," you mumbled shyly and Tendo grinned, shaking his head in amusement.
"I love you too," he replied without hesitating. The two of you soon fell asleep, Tendo changing out of his jeans first and yelling at you to get in your pajamas, before throwing a shirt at your head. You were too tired to get up now and Tendo knew that but it didn't stop him from trying. He gave up shortly and muttered something about you being a stubborn little bitch before sinking into the mattress next to you and shutting off the lights.
The next week flew by just like that. You were getting quite used to living with Tendo and he seemed to be happy with that. Most days were just busy with school and assignments, the slower days were spent in wondering if Semi would be home now or then to gauge how long the two of you had alone. But in that worry itself, you and Tendo would miss the opportunity Semi seemed to have intentionally been giving you each time. Dinners were nice since the three of you got along very well. Tendo would usually make the jokes, vulgar or downright shocking, causing you to almost choke up your food and Semi to roll his eyes yet smirk all the same.
Semi had found a job as a male receptionist at some package delivering company, which was a grounds for all three of you to celebrate. Tendo explained that they probably only wanted Semi because he was eye-candy  for anyone entering the building. You agreed that Semi was very pretty and Tendo pouted at you.
Friday night, the bong was reintroduced and you surrendered to the thought of really forgetting all your stress and just getting high. Which you did. And it was really relieving. So the next day, you decided it couldn't hurt to have another session. Semi had gone off to work and he wouldn't be back till very late, which gave you and Tendo time to smoke a little and fuck a lot.
But neither of you were really in the mood that evening and you could tell by the lack of foreplay Tendo usually invested in before putting it inside. He was out of focus and so were you, lying in his bed and occasionally moaning when he hit the right spot.
And when he'd pulled out so quick, you couldn't help lifting your head in confusion. "T-Tendo, what—" but the question was cut off with warm liquid spraying over your bare chest and splashing onto your mouth, droplets almost hitting your eyes before you shut them.
"Ah shit!" Tendo gasped, giggling breathlessly. "I'm s-sorry about that. I just wanted to cum on your tits."
"I'm gonna get pink-eye!" You complained, wiping your eyes and mouth with the back of your hand.
"Don't be dramatic," he said dismissively, hopping off the bed and disappearing into the closet. You blinked, heavy breaths living your lips and slightly disoriented. But Tendo had really just . . . Done that, without bothering to ask if you'd finished (he never really asked because it was quite obvious you had every time, but not tonight).
Before the worthlessness could settle in, a towel was thrown directly at your face and now you were just . . . Really angry. Your own boyfriend seemed to have used you and discarded you, you thought, furiously wiping yourself down with the towel and watching Tendo from the corner of your eye light up a joint and take a deep drag from it.
You slipped your shirt back over your bare chest and stared down at your lap as he breathed out, smoke filling the air and your nose. You just wanted to turn around and sleep.
"Y/N," said Tendo, prompting you to glance up at him. You shifted your gaze to him and saw that he was dangling a pair of handcuffs in one hand and a collar with a chain attached to it in another. Tendo grinned lazily, the joint hanging from his lips as he tossed both on the bed, you gazing at them in wonder.
"Do you wanna try these?" He asked, setting the joint aside and crawling onto the bed. "I ordered them a while ago, they're cheap as fuck but if we like them — if you like them — we can get something proper."
You licked your lips, excitement rising in your stomach. "I . . . Um . . . Yes! I'd like to try . . ."
"That's my girl," said Tendo eagerly, clicking the collar around your neck with a sly smile. "You look pretty fucking hot, if I'm being honest." He turned your head to the side so you could see yourself in the mirror. You couldn't help but agree with your boyfriend. The presence of the collar on your throat did wonderful things to your conscious.
Then there was a rough tug on the chain, squeezing the collar around your neck, and a whimper tumbled past your lips as Tendo forced you to face him. Tendo's eyes widened in wicked surprise as he stared at you and felt yourself blushing.
"This chain comes in handy then, I bet," he muttered with a smile.
Once your shirt was off and the handcuffs were locked around your wrists, both behind your back, Tendo pushed you to the ground in front of him and swung his feet off the bed. He reached one of his large hands towards you, fingers immediately tangling in your hair as you made quick work of him. The constant yanking on your hair and the choked grunts Tendo made was really adding to the rush of it all. Especially when he pushed your head down and forced himself deeper into your throat. 
"Take all of my cock," he hissed out the order, the chain of your collar wrapped around his free hand, tugging at it every now and then when he wanted you to look at him. You accepted every  praise that followed, tears forming at the edge of your vision with each thrust. "You look so pretty like this, baby. God, I love face-fucking you . . . You're so good . . . You're the best." 
After he'd shuddered and his cock twitched, sending a warm stream of cum down your throat, Tendo didn't stop there. He pulled the chain up, your head rising with it as the collar squeezed your neck. "Let me see," he whispered, gently gripping your jaw as you opened your mouth, feeling the liquid drip down your chin. "Good girl. Now swallow." The instruction was followed by the harsh slap of his palm against your ass, prompting you to obey.
"Ah!" you cried out, biting your lip. "Y-Yes, sir." 
Tendo smirked and yanked the chain again, bringing your lips down upon his and the saltiness from earlier was wiped away as he sucked on your lips, grasping your hips and sitting you down on top of him where you could feel his cock pressing right against your entrance. 
"Tell me what you want, baby," Tendo groaned as you moved your hips against him, your head buried in his neck along with your lips grazing his warm skin. Your wrists were sore and aching and all you wanted was to latch onto him but Tendo didn't seem to want to take them off just yet. 
"Fuck me," you whispered against his ear.
Tendo didn't waste time, moving back so he was lying down on the bed, shirt off and you, on top of him, wanted to touch the tanned skin of his bare chest so bad. He watched your every moment with a dizzying intrigue, allowing you to fuck yourself on his cock while his fingers pressed bruises into your hips. 
"Just like that, Y/N," he grunted through a clenched jaw, pushing you all the way down as he lifted his own hips and thrust up into you. 
"Tendo!" You gasped, your head falling back, eyes shut tightly as the pain and pleasure shot up your body, releasing breathless moans from the base of your throat. "Fuck . . ."
Tendo grinned. "You ride me so well, Y/N . . . Ugh, fuck!" He pulled the chain towards him, swallowing your moan with the careful, wet kisses of his mouth. "You look so hot on top of me." You could feel the tight knots in your stomach slowly unraveling, the new angle doing mind-shattering things to your insides. 
"I-I . . . Tendo . . ." You stuttered, blinking rapidly as the feeling overcame you. 
Tendo's hands went to your thighs immediately, throwing you off of him and the sudden feeling of emptiness shocked you. "What the fuck?!" You cried, shaking the hair off your face as your wrists were still faithfully behind you. 
"Let me fuck that pussy," Tendo muttered, shifting you onto your hands and knees before sinking into you from behind as your head pressed into the pillow beneath you. "You're so tight . . . I love this pussy . . ." Tendo bent over you, till his chest was pressed to your back, his hand still clamped around the chain of your collar, making sure you were being choked how he liked you. 
"Moan for me, Y/N . . ." he whispered, lips and teeth clashing against the skin under your ear, your neck, your shoulder. You should've been embarrassed with the sounds leaving your parted mouth but you really couldn't focus on much besides the feeling of his cock buried deep inside you. 
The mindless euphoria and muffled pain of it all drove every thought out of your head, the uncertainty and unease. You wanted to be as close to Tendo as possible and he wanted to be deep inside you. As your vision blurred and you were so close to completely losing it, Tendo pulled out of you again. Your jaw fell open but he'd flipped you around and frantically uncuffed your now throbbing wrists, tossing the handcuffs to the side, before sliding back into you. 
"Fuucckkk . . ." He moaned, eyes fluttering but he tried to keep them open to watch your flushed face, your back arching until your breasts were pressed right up against his chest. The sound of profanities leaving his swelling lips was smothered as he sucked on your neck, your arms finally able to loop around his neck, yanking at his hair as he slipped his fingers between your legs. "C-Cum on my cock . . ." Tendo stuttered.
But you'd begged him to come inside and Tendo had to pull his head back to look at you with surprise. After the painful edging and denial, those words were enough to snap every knot in your stomach completely. Tendo had grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. "I wanna see you when you cum," he managed to choke out as you tried your best to keep your eyes open, focused on his gaze and the way it sent goosebumps all over your sweat-glistening body. Tendo had sped up and groaned a string of curse words as he released inside of you, and you had given to defeat, throwing your head back, mouth open in a silent cry before Tendo's hips slowed down and the room was filled with shuddering breaths and occasional whimpers. 
"Holy fuck," Tendo whispered, unclipping the collar from around your neck and examining the red and almost bleeding skin before tossing the item to the side. "I'm so sorry . . . Did it hurt?" 
"K-Kinda," you squeaked as he kissed your neck softly. Truthfully, you hadn't noticed it then but the pain was coming back to you in short bursts as you trembled underneath Tendo. 
"I should've known considering it was like five bucks," he responded, dropping down next to you. You wrapped your arms around him and rested your head on his chest. Tendo seemed surprised by this as you two normally cleaned yourselves up first before cuddling. 
"My parents are falling out of love," you blurted out. 
Tendo scoffed, pushing your hair out of your face. "I just fucked you like you were a bitch in heat and the first thing you say is 'my parents are falling out of love' . . . What the fuck am I doing?" he murmured, leaning down and kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry to hear that, Y/N."
You licked your lips, trailing your fingers over Tendo's bare chest. "I-I'm scared that . . . That you don't love me anymore either."
"Oh . . . This fucking girl, you can't leave her alone with her thoughts for a second," Tendo teased. "I can tell you this, Y/N; sometimes it doesn't work between people and forcing it will just make it worse." 
You nodded, shifting into a seated position so you could look at him properly. Tendo smiled at you, the mere action causing your heart to jump into you throat. "You're right . . . I'll have to hope for the best between my parents."
"That being said," Tendo continued, tucking your hair behind your ear gently. "I fucking love you and I don't plan on stopping so you can get that silly thought out of your head." There was a distant sound of the front door opening and when you'd glanced at the clock, you knew Semi was home. He'd announced his arrival and said,
"Keep fucking if you guys are fucking! I don't wanna ruin your relationship!"
Tendo rolled his eyes and hugged you closer, putting his chin on your shoulder. "You were amazing and I'm sorry about before . . ." You giggled. It seemed sort of trivial now. "You're beautiful by the way," Tendo said and you blushed. "Your face and body but also on the inside . . . and I'm not talking about these sweet insides I just ruined . . ."
"I know," You laughed as Tendo tickled your thigh with his fingertips. 
"Y/N," said Tendo suddenly and you glanced at him. "D-Do you want to try something new?"
You raised an eyebrow. "Hey, I guess the handcuffs weren't enough, huh? Yeah, let's do something new!" But you weren't expecting Tendo to call for Semi. To your own surprise though, you didn't stop him and even smiled widely when the boy pushed the door open and froze, blush creeping onto his cheeks. 
Tendo hadn't said anything further but your heart was pounding furiously again, especially when Semi's eyes shifted from Tendo to meet your own. He opened his mouth to say something but then thought better of it.
A second later, he was tugging at his own hoodie, the only two words that left his lips "fuck it" completely forgotten once the door shut and Tendo dimmed the lights. 
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