#Butters is too flattered to notice anything else

[deleahtarte]

Every time Butters and Kenny is together this is the one thought everyone in the room shares

#Kenny is shameless #Butters is too flattered to notice anything else #Kenny is a man for big gestures so I imagine Butters has a lot of gifts

[brightlycoloredteacups]

Arthur Be Damned

Pairing: Orm Marius x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut

Summary: Orm has the hots for Arthur's big sister, and it looks like she's got the hots for him too.

She was Arthur's big sister, and Arthur was doing his big brother duty by ordering Orm to stay away from her. Orm agreed entirely. Getting together with his brother’s older sister would be messy, to say the least. It started as nothing more than a silly little crush. A pretty girl flashed a brilliant smile towards him, patched him up and fed him because he and Arthur had to hide out for a while. He would get over it soon enough. Six months had passed since the initial agreement that Orm would stay away from her, and he was more in love with the woman now than he ever dreamed he could be. 

She was nothing like Arthur. She was quiet, introspective. Having had a hard life living with her mother, her smiles didn't come easily. When she spoke, Arthur listened and did what he was told. There was a deep sense of respect on Arthur's part for his big sister that Orm admired. She was neat, orderly, efficient. When Orm fantasized about being king, she was his queen. Regal and unwavering. He was desperate for her attention.

He did menial chores to compensate. He was bad at it at first, but he picked it up quick enough. He always went grocery shopping with her. She was on the shorter side, so getting items on higher shelves was an issue. Not to mention feeding two grown Atlanteans in their prime required a lot of food. He made sure to wear tighter, more flattering shirts to show off his muscles as he hauled bags upon bags up the driveway to the kitchen. He thanked her, complimented her, and anything else he could think of just to get her to look his way.

The benefits of being stuck in a small home with the woman of his dreams every day for six months were numerous. The one he liked best was the fact that he could observe her in silence. He spent an unabashed amount of time watching her. She noticed him doing it to. She made snide comments before when Arthur snapped at her for wearing revealing clothing. She simply laughed in Arthur’s face and said, “I have to make sure to put on a show for Orm. He’s always staring.” If his staring bothered her, she hadn’t said anything.

He learned so many things about her in such a short amount of time he felt like his head was stuffed full. In fact, despite the desperate circumstances he and Arthur were in, all he thought about was Arthur’s sister. She had a matcha latte and a bagel every morning. The topping on the bagel were different day to day but often it was peanut butter and banana. She was a university student in her last years of school, what she studied he couldn’t make heads or tales of . He just understood that it was frustrating. He also knew, the more frustrated she was, the more likely she was to play loud “nasty” music just liked the music coming from her room now.          

Orm looked up the stairs, wondering if he should try and comfort her. She didn’t seem a woman that would enjoy his company when stressed, but he hadn’t seen her at all that day. She had been up since before the break of dawn and remained shut in her room the rest of the day. He would die if he didn’t at least tell her good night. What if she didn’t like him though? He couldn’t just go up there and knock on her door to say goodnight, sleep well…could he? She had to like him just a little. Arthur was her brother, but she spent less time with him than she did with Orm. She smiled at him more, sought him out first after missions to make sure he was ok. It felt like she was choosing him. She could just be trying to be nice; he reasons. On the other hand, if she was trying to be nice, why didn’t she ever comfort Arthur the way she comforted him?

He isn’t sure how long he stares up, but when he hears a thump, he’s running to the second floor, two steps at a time. He calls her name, panicked. Banging on her bright yellow door, he calls for her again. “I’m ok!” She calls to him, sounding just as panicked as he feels. “I’m fine.” He hears scrambling and another thump; the music cuts off abruptly. She opens the door, flashing him a ‘see I’m fine smile’. She looks in disarray. Her hair fluffier, as if she’d been sleeping, her tight shirt slightly raised to show the chub of her belly, her shorts showing her meaty things. Once again, he’s plagued by thoughts of being squeezed by those thighs. “I heard a bang,” he says, looking past her and into the room. “Are you alright, did you trip?” She was a woman of poise, rarely tripping over herself. “I’m alright,” She reiterates, “I just knocked something over, that’s all.” Orm’s blue eyes snap back to her, she gives him another smile, sheepish, telling him to go away, everything is fine, just fine. That’s when the smell hits him.

Orm understood that surface people went through a mating season, not unlike Atlanteans. A human female’s season was short, about a week. They made up for the short season by going through it once a month. He took her appearance in again, and somehow managed to leap to a conclusion. She was relieving her heat herself. That thump must have been a tool of some kind, and she dropped it in the throws of passion. Orm felt himself harden instantly at the thought, he wanted to know what tool it was that had her so flushed with pleasure, he wanted to use it on her. Her sheepish smile falters as his stare becomes intense. `

“Orm are you ok?” She reaches out to him, grabs his arm, he can’t help but to step inside her room, pull her close to him and take a deep breath. Damn, that sent short circuited his brain. “Orm?” Her voice is soft, laced with confusion, but not alarm. “Arthur doesn’t like the thought of us being together,” Orm tells her, unwilling to stop the confession about to pour forth from him “But Arthur be damned. I want you; I’ve wanted you since the first moment I met you, more than I’ve ever wanted another.” She squirms in his arms, but he doesn’t let go, can’t let go, not yet. “These past six months have been nothing but a fever dream of yearning. I don’t just want to fuck you on every available surface, I want to kiss you, hold your hand. I want to take you to Atlantis and show you all its wonders. I want you to explain the surface world to me. I want to get lost in you until the end of our days.”

“Orm-” he cuts her off, “But I understand our dynamic is strange,” Orm finds the strength to let go of her. He feels stupid, weak, embarrassed. He hadn’t meant to lay his soul bear to her, but she just brought it out of him. He was madly in love with her. “We share a brother, and he’s uncomfortable with the thought of us together. I only needed you to know I have strong feelings for you. If you reject me, I accept. I want nothing more than for you to be happy.” He feels his heart give a painful squeeze. He knows there’s no way she’d accept him. Arthur was her brother, Orm was nothing less than a disgraced prince. But he had to tell her, he couldn’t go on living without at least telling her his secret. Damn her for making him so weak.    

She reaches for him, takes his hand in hers, tugs him closer. It’s the most natural thing in the world, bending down to kiss her. He’s thrilled when she wraps her arms around his neck and receives him. He takes his time kissing her, exploring her soft lips, playfully nibbling, and nipping, enjoying her girlish giggling. When they finally pull back, both are smiling stupidly at the other. “What about Arthur?” Orm asks, the king of Atlantis is going to be pissed at this new development. “It’s like you said, Arthur be damned.” Orm took it as permission to dip down and kiss her again.            

Somewhere in the haze Orm manages to close the door, walk her across the room, and get her on the bed. He hovers over her, unwilling to move too far from her lips. He spends eternity kissing her, wanting to tell her how much he loves her. It’s too early for that, he thinks, I don’t want to seem desperate. In a shocking turn of events, she flips him over onto his back, settles herself on his hips, both letting out gasps when she brushes his erection. He rests his hands on her hips as she regards him. Her wild hair seems wilder now, her eyes glimmering with mirth. She’s smirking down at him, and he swears he’s died on gone to paradise. 

It’s strange how little she looks like Arthur. Arthur was tall, tan with brown hair, green eyes, and a shit eating grin. She was much shorter, reaching the bottom of Orm’s sternum. Steady and solidly built, her skin was darker by a few shades than Arhtur’s, she had brown eyes, and her hair was black, curly, and wild.

She finds the hem of his shirt and starts to tug it up, he sits up and raises his arms. The shirt goes up and over his head. When she presses him back down, he doesn’t resist. Her eyes roam up and down his body. He knew he was fit, he spent all his life training and fighting. He had a few scars here and there. Shockingly he starts feeling self-conscious. He forces himself to stay still for her. He wants to flex, to tell her in the right lighting, he looks like a god, honest he does. She rakes her nails down his chest, catching a nipple in the progress. He damn near loses his mind. The term ‘monkey brain’ suddenly begins to make sense. Rational thought is slowly leaving him as his desire to put his cock in her nearly takes over. It’s her contented sigh and the “You’re so handsome Orm,” that brings him crashing back into himself. Handsome! He’s so handsome at that. She leans over him pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, his chin. Things get a little naughty when she reaches his neck.

He grunts at the sudden pleasure over her teeth nipping at his skin. He turns his head for her, and she manages to find a place at the junction of his jaw and behind his ear that has him fisting the sheets. He rolls his hips upward involuntarily, seeking any kind of friction. She giggles and laves attention on the spot, sucking a dark mark onto his skin. He’s so wrapped up in what her mouth is doing he isn’t aware that a hand slips beneath the band of his pants until he feels her fingers on his cock. He must let out a strange noise when she squeezes the middle of his member because she immediately removes her hand, much to his displeasure, and pops up looking panicked. “I’m sorry!”

He shakes his head, too confused to answer her. She gets off him, but before she can get too far from him, he grabs her hand. All he can manage is a strained, “Continue.” Her brows furrow, unsure if she should listen. He swallows thickly, “Please,” He manages, “Please, I need you. I was just shocked, that’s all.”

“You sounded like I stabbed you Orm,” He shakes his head. “I don-, I don’t know what sound I made, but I can assure you, it was one of pleasure. I didn’t think I’d ever have the opportunity to…to do this kind of thing with you. I’m a little overwhelmed.”  He runs his thumb across the back of her hand in reassurance. She hesitates a little too long for his liking. “Do you not want this?” He asks, perhaps he’d read the situation wrong and she was having second thoughts. “I do.” She tells him, finally relaxing, he relaxes as well, flopping back down on the bed with a sigh of relief. “Please,” he begs her, “Please.”

She does as he asks, hooks her fingers underneath the band of his pants and, with his help, shimmies them down his hips. Flinging them somewhere in her room, she has a full view of him. He wants nothing more than to shy away from her, to cover himself up from her piercing gaze. He shouldn’t have initiated such an intimate moment so quickly. “Jesus Orm, you’re perfect.” Perfect, the word echoes around in his skull as she kneels before him. Jesus, a deity surface people call out, as a curse or a prayer. Orm, his name. Perfect, a reference to him. When she thinks of perfection, she thinks of him, his nakedness, his body. He’s satisfactory looking to her, more than that, he’s perfect. All the incoherent ramblings going on in his skull cease the moment she grabs his cock once again. He makes the same strangled sound, but this time, she simply pauses instead of moving away from him.

Her clasped hand moves up his cock, down, and up once more. He can no longer force himself to stay still, fuck he couldn’t even force himself to stay quiet. “Oh, now you see, that sounds better.” She teases him. He manages to prop himself up on his elbows to look at her. She’s smiling at him. She stops again, and he wants to curse, but she rests her cheek on his knee a look overcoming her features. He can’t tell what it is, but he never wants her to stop. Lazily she squeezes him, begins pumping slowly as she looks into his eyes. There’s something there, something more than lust, something…loving. I’m going to do it; I’m going to tell her I love her. He doesn’t get the chance. She presses a kiss to his knee, then further up his thigh, then a little further up. Yes, his monkey brain screams, understanding what’s happening before he does. Yes, put it in your mouth, oh Poseidon, put my cock in your mouth.

She works her way to the base of his cock, head an angry scarlet, weeping with precum. She licks a stripe from base to tip, catching a bead of white on her tongue. He’s fascinated by the sight, watches her swallow then pop the tip in her mouth and give a strong suck. His hips jerk upwards involuntarily. She merely giggles and continues to suck him. He watches as she moves herself into a better position over him, free hand resting on his hip. He immediately takes it, entwines their fingers, settling onto his back for a third time. His mind clears as she continues her ministrations, getting lower and lower on his cock as time goes by.

What she can’t reach with her mouth, she reaches with her hand. Orm’s head, for once in his life, is completely empty. There are no duties he has to attend to, no imagined slights he has to nurse an injury for, no jealousies to consider. It’s just him, the women between his knees, and the unceasing waves of pleasure. He’s vocal, calling out her name, begging her not to stop, oh please, he needs this, please, pretty please, oh please, ohpleaseohpleASEOHPLEASE. Yes. The tight coil in his gut snaps as his orgasm rips through him. He’s aware of the noises he makes, of the giggles, of his hips jerking hard. He relaxes, lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, then finally opens his eyes to stare at the ceiling.

She moves again to straddle him. Brushing a heated cheek with her thumb he finally as the courage to look at her. “You ok?” She asks, “That seemed a little intense.” He wants to snap back at her, ask her how she would feel if the woman she was lusting after just gave her the best head she’d ever had. Instead, he sits up and kisses her deeply, tasting himself on her tongue. That’s when the scent hits him again, her arousal. It seems more intense now, sweeter than anything he’s ever smelled. He helps her get rid of her clothes in a quick fashion, pushes her on her back and stares open at her nakedness. If she had any reservations, hesitations, or anything else, she didn’t show it.

Orm understood that, whether for aesthetic purposes or cultural purposes, humans took their body modifications personally. Arthur had tattoos that represented his culture through his father’s line, Arthur’s sister didn’t have ink, she had jewels. He allows his eyes to roam her body freely, tracing a path from her chin, down her neck, to a nipple. Two little balls rested on either side, he tugged gently, curious as to the meaning of such a thing. He doesn’t linger, there’s too much of her he wants to explore and he’s reasonably confident he’ll have time to stare at her all he wants in the future. His hand trails downward to the shiny green piercing that rested in her belly button. He glosses over it, a half though forming in his mind that a pearl should be nestled there. As his hands travel lower, she adjusts herself, opening her legs to him. She’s got nothing to hide, and he loves her all the more for it.

His fingers slip past the curls of her pussy and plunge inside, eager to see her come undone just as quickly as she’d undid him. She’s wet. His ego takes a hit when he realizes she’s wet because of what she was doing before he interrupted her, but he doesn’t let that stop him. He pumps two fingers in and out experimentally, knowing the basics of what he was doing. She was quick to correct him. “Angle them upwards more.” He does so. That first little whimper damn near does him in. “Your thumb.” She breathes, He looks down at his hand, what about it? Was it in the way. “Use it.” He has to pause and think, how did he use his thumb?

“Have you never fingered a girl before?” Her question is gentle, unjudgmental. “I haven’t exactly had time to practice.” He admits, flushing red for different reasons now. “Here, let me.” She maneuvers his hand the way she wants it, two fingers angled up, his thumb on another piece of jewelry. “That’s my clit,” She explains when she places his thumb there. “It’s a very important piece of anatomy. Makes a woman see stars. If ever you’re with someone, and they aren’t getting there in a timely manner, I can say with much confidence if you put some sort of stimulation on it, they’ll cum in a few moments.” He wants to make a cute retort that she’s ruined all others for him, but he’s eager to absorb the lesson she’s trying to teach him. “If you ever eat a girl out, that’s where you’ll want to focus your mouth. Now, go ahead and move your fingers in and out, making sure to apply pressure upwards, and use your thumb as leverage on my clit when you move out. If you can remember, move it up and down or in circles while moving in an out.”

It’s all so clinical, he thinks, so impersonal. This isn’t how this is supposed to go. She knew exactly how to please him without so much as an utterance from him. Here he was receiving an entire lecture. But you’ll be better for it, he tells himself, you’re learning how to please her directly from the source. She isn’t letting you fumble through it, she’s giving you direction, that way next time you know what the hell you’re doing. A smaller voice he chose to beat back asked him if he was so sure there would be a next time. He starts over, doing as she instructed. Pressure in two places, nice and easy, in and out. This time, she reacts, groaning and rolling her hips to meet his fingers.

He falls into a steady rhythm. She wriggles beneath him, and he watches intently as she moves. Her walls flutter around his fingers and he feels himself harden and begin to leak once more. He’s enraptured by the vision beneath him. Eventually a sheen of sweat forms on her skin, making her glow in the light that filled the room. He leans forward, unable to resist kissing her any longer. She tries to kiss him back, but she’s too busy chasing her release, so he opts for open mouthed kisses anywhere he can reach, cheek, shoulder, anywhere. Before long, her hips begin to stutter, her walls clamp down on his fingers in a rhythm all their own. She calls his name over and over, like a prayer. It soothes the hit his ego took earlier. When she’s finished, she pushes his hand away, the sensation becoming too much. His hand is soaked in her slick, that wonderful smell overwhelming him once more.

Unsure of how to proceed, he wipes his hand on his leg as best he could and lays next to her, watching her heavy breathing become normal once more. His cock aches with the want to enter her, but she made no moves to take things that far. Eventually she steadies, and he begins to press kisses to her skin once more. She turns her head to capture his lips in a kiss. It’s lazy, unchaste, all tongues and nips and nibbles. He could spend an eternity there, but she begins to cling to him in a way his subconscious understands as her wanting more. He dares to roll on top of her and settle between her legs.

He manages to pull away from her and trail kisses down her neck as she’d done before. He tries desperately to find that magical spot on her neck that she found on him but couldn’t do it before she called his name. He stops immediately. It’s time to go, their little tryst has come to an end. Arhtur is going to be home any second and they have to compose themselves, no matter how much his balls ached to be emptied again. “Please,” she says, bringing him in for another scorching kiss. “Please, I want you.” The desperation behind her words almost kills him. He pulls back, not to be a tease, but he wanted to get something straight. In his mind, it was one thing to pleasure each other using mouths and hands, it was a different thing entirely to be joined so intimately. He beings his final confession.

“I love you,” He says, “In all the Seven Kingdoms, in all the world, there’s no one I want more than you. No one I desire to be with more. I’ll only continue if you feel the same way.”

“I love you too, Orm.” It’s the way it falls from her lips without hesitation, the earnestness in her tone, the softness of her smile. This was what made him believe her. His face breaks out into the biggest smile he ever managed. “Yeah?” She nods, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, kissing him for the umpteenth time. He wriggles around for a few moments, using a free hand to slide effortlessly into her. They both groan as he slides all the way in. He can’t explain it, but he’s weak in the best way possible. He wants to collapse on top of her and remain sheathed inside her for eternity. This is right. He belongs with this woman. The universe aligned everything just so he could meet this woman and love her.

His pace is slow to start. He doesn’t want things to end too quickly, but it seems she has other plans. She begins to match his easy pace thrust for thrust. Both of their grunts and whimpers got lost in the others’. An ‘oh Orm,’ was coupled with an ‘oh yes,’ which in turn was followed by ‘right there’ and ‘don’t stop’. All too soon Orm found himself speeding up, just a little, chasing that release. From the way her walls fluttered around his cock, he hoped she was close too. “Orm, thumb, please.” She whispers, clinging to him. Through the haze of pleasure, he manages to find enough wits to place his thumb on her clit and began to rub. Her legs wrap around his waist, bringing him impossibly deeper. By this time neither could tell which grunt belonged to who, who was begging for the other harder. They were lost in each other, and when they climaxed, it was together. Both their hips jerked erratically, each chasing their release, lamenting that the pleasure was over too soon.

Orm collapses on top of her. She brings her arms around him, scraping her fingers over the back of his scalp with one hand, and running the other up and down his back. He softened slowly inside her as they both bask in the afterglow. In the back of his mind, Orm knows Arthur is going to be pissed. But it’s like he said in the beginning, Arthur be damned.

#orm marius #aquaman #one shot

[airi-p4]

The weekend Project - Ch 4

Chapter 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 __________________________________________

Summary: At school, Marinette has no friends in her class other than Alya. With the idea of making students interact more and out of their usual groups of friends, Ms. Bustier assigns her students to a school project that requires spending a weekend with another student of her choice. What Marinette didn’t know was how this project with her partner Juleka was going to change her life.

__________________________________

AO3

__________________________________ Chapter 4: Weekend at the Couffaine’s (2)

As she had expected, Marinette didn't get much sleep that night. Not only because she went to sleep late, but also because of how she slept on a bed and a pillow she wasn't used to, the swaying of the boat, Juleka being mad at her, and knowing that Luka was sleeping behind the partition.

It was a lot.

When she opened her eyes in the morning, she could see that Juleka was still in bed, with her back turned to Marinette. She sighed. She decided to stay under the sheets for a little longer, not wanting to wander alone around a house that wasn't hers, but the noise of silverware and the coffee machine convinced her to wake up. Going to the kitchen, she found Luka there.

"Good morning," he said, when he noticed the girl. "Do you want coffee, Marinette?" he offered.

Marinette blushed. It was late at night when they had first met and she had thought he was handsome despite how dark it was. Now, with bright sun rays brightening the room, she realized he was even more dazzling than she realized. And he was there, with messy bed hair, in his pajamas, offering her a coffee with a very soft and kind smile...

"Ah-no, I—"

Those butterflies again… her blushing was unavoidably back.

"Or anything else? Milk? Cocoa, maybe?" he tried, making her come back to Earth.

"Ah-yes… Cocoa, please?"

"Sure." His smile widened.

Marinette couldn't take her eyes off him as he meticulously prepared her a cup of cocoa, a spoon, cereal, toast, and butter and blueberry jam, in case she wanted some. There was a basket with some appetizing fruits nearby, too.

"Here. Eat all you want."

Marinette took a sip, but she was sure her cheeks were warmer than the chocolate drink.

"Thank you. It's delicious."

"You're welcome. Should I cook you anything? Eggs? Bacon? Don't be shy to ask if you want anything else, okay?" Marinette nodded shyly. "What do you usually have for breakfast?"

"Croissants," she answered. "From our bakery," she remarked.

"Oh, freshly made croissants? No way I can compete with that!" Luka chuckled and she giggled. "I hope this humble breakfast is good enough for you."

"It's wonderful. I really like it," she automatically answered, not sure herself if she meant the food or Luka's company. "T-there's a bit of everything. I think it's quite balanced," she added, mostly to clarify.

"Yes, that's right." Luka smiled. "You may have noticed how picky Juleka is with her food. I can't know for sure if she eats at school, but I try to make sure she eats properly at home, at least for breakfast."

"You really care for her…"

"Of course I do! She's my sister. We've been together almost all our life, for the good and for the bad. Mom, too. My family is my treasure. I like to make sure they're healthy and well." He smiled fondly.

"Wow…" Marinette was fascinated.

"You don't have siblings, Marinette?"

"No, I don't. Whenever I have to babysit Manon or Alya's sisters I'm relieved I don't, but seeing how you care and treasure Juleka is starting to make me wish I did."

"Well, that's flattering."

"I mean it."

"Thank you."

A little embarrassed from their last exchange, they stopped talking and focused on eating breakfast instead. Too shy to look at his face, Marinette found herself staring at Luka's hands, watching him carefully spreading blueberry jam on his toast and eating it. The way his fingertips reached so close to his lips made her blush for some reason. When his hands were on the table, she noticed the details of his nail polish.

"Do you like them?" Luka asked, pointing at his nails with his eyes.

"Ah-!" Marinette jolted in surprise. She had been caught staring. "Yes. I didn't notice at first, but they're not black: there are patterns on them. The level of detail is impressive," she said admiringly. "I love it."

"Have you ever had nail art done, Marinette?"

"Hmmm… I don't think so, no."

"Would you like it?"

"Of course! I'd love to have pink flowers and cute details on them!" She glowed imagining it. His smile widened joyfully.

"Would you believe me if I told you Juleka painted them for me? All the details and everything?" Luka showed a smug smile.

"What-!? Juleka did!?" The girl gasped. "She didn't tell me she liked it!"

"She's a bit reserved, as you know. You should ask her to do your nails. I bet she would love to," he suggested.

"Well, I don't know… She's probably still mad at me…" Marinette lamented. The sympathetic face Luka made encouraged her to tell him more. "Last night, I told her that what was the point of me being here if she was glued to her phone all the time? Then she mumbled something I couldn't understand, and I yelled and told her that it was annoying not understanding a thing she said…" She sighed. "I was mean to her. And I regret it… but I don't know how to apologize…"

"Everything will be okay. Just be honest with your feelings and talk to her, like you just did with me." Luka smiled at her, showing understanding, and she smiled back, comfortable. "There's a reason Juleka checks her phone constantly, but it's not because she's bored or doesn't want to be around you. It's not for me to tell you, but you could ask her. It's… a delicate topic. But I believe that, if it's you, she may open up and tell you."

"Will she…?"

"Not yet, probably, but eventually? I think so, yes." He nodded with a soft smile that made her blush again.

"Thank you, Luka. I'll try…"

_____________

Marinette had been amicably chatting with Luka (which was surprisingly and unusually easy despite being HER and a boy she fancied) when Juleka entered the kitchen. Unsure of how she was going to act, Marinette's body became immediately stiff.

"G'morning," Juleka mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

Then, when she noticed Marinette, she tensed and avoided meeting her eyes, hunching her back as she sat on the farthest stool chair of the bar. She left an empty space in between her and her classmate.

"Good morning, Juleka. Cocoa or café au lait?" Luka stepped in, reading the air.

She mumbled something in response.

"Café au lait it is then."

How did he understand that!? Marinette wondered. Luka was incredible.

Silence reignited as Luka prepared Juleka's coffee. The fight of the previous day was still lingering in the air, heavy and awkward. Neither of the girls seemed like they were going to apologize soon.

Marinette looked sadly at Luka, begging for help with her eyes. He smiled, resigned.

"Hey, Juleka, I was just telling Marinette about that time when you were little and you bawled your eyes out because you swallowed an apple seed and thought an apple tree was going to grow inside your stomach. Remember?" he joked.

Juleka stood up, flustered, hands on the bar and mumbled something in an angry tone and turned her back to them, embarrassed. Luka laughed and signaled Marinette, knowing her answer.

"It's okay, Juleka! It-it happened to me too!" Marinette jumped in. "My father joked that I would turn into a tree, but that I didn't have to worry because he was going to make sure to water me everyday. Mom smacked him and told me he was joking but I cried for hours and it took me a long while until I ate apples again! I was so scared!"

"No way!" Luka chuckled. "It seems you're not alone with fear of apple seeds, Jules!"

Marinette gulped, embarrassed and expectant for the purple-haired girl's reaction after her equally laughable confession. But after opening her eyes, mouth open in surprise, the younger Couffaine averted her gaze one more time and remained silent.

Once again, Marinette let out a dejected sigh and showed Luka a concerned expression. He understood her calling for help. His sister was really stubborn, wasn't she?

"Juleka," he called. "Come here for a minute, please." Her nose scrunched. Then, he put his hand on her back and made her follow him to the other side of the room to talk privately. "What was that just now? I thought you liked Marinette and were excited to have her over?"

"..." She didn't answer.

"Look, I've talked to her and she's trying to listen and understand you. But how are you going to make yourself heard if you don't talk? I know you're shy and nervous, but she's all the same. She wants to be friends with you. Why don't you let her see the amazing girl you are, Juleka?"

"But I'm not…"

"Of course you are! Don't be afraid to show her who you are. Be confident, loud and clear! Marinette is a pure hearted girl, she won't judge you. Didn't you say you wanted to become her friend?"

"I do…"

"Then go talk to her and tell her how you honestly feel. Everything will go well." She showed him an uncertain look. He rested his hands on her shoulders in reassurance. "Don't you trust me?"

"I trust you…" she admitted.

"Good. Then let's go back and let's get along, okay? Let's make our guest feel at home."

"Okay…" she mumbled.

Marinette looked at the Couffaine siblings coming back. She had, in fact, been nervously staring at them while they talked, but she couldn't understand what they said. She got uneasy because Juleka was still looking at the floor, but she felt slightly better when Luka, just behind her, smiled optimistically and winked at her. He returned behind the bar table, but Juleka, to Marinette's surprise, stopped next to her.

"ImsorryMarinette," Jukeka mumbled.

Marinette's eyes opened wide, surprised by both her words and the fact she understood her. She gazed at Luka, who encouraged her with a nod.

"Oh no! I'm the one who's sorry, Juleka! I didn't want to yell at you! I shouldn't have forced you to talk if you didn't want to! I'm sorry…" She felt like she was going to cry. "I want us to be friends and get along…" she admitted, shyly.

Juleka looked at Marinette, and then at Luka, who silently encouraged her, too.

"I want to be friends, too…" the purple-haired girl answered, all the same.

Marinette, finally able to understand her mumbles, beamed and held her new friend's hands in hers and clasped them together. "Friends?"

"Friends." Juleka tightened her hands holding on hers too, while they shyly smiled at each other. Luka looked fondly at the scene. When they separated, Juleka took the stool next to Marinette instead of the farthest one she had taken earlier.

"Well done, Juleka, I'm proud of you."

Marinette wouldn't admit it out loud but she was a bit jealous when Luka kissed Juleka's head tenderly.

"You did amazing, too, Marinette. I told you it would work out."

She hummed shyly and blushed when Luka complimented her, his hand patting her shoulder in support.  

"So now that you've cleared that up and are talking again, why don't we order something special for lunch? To celebrate your friendship. Or I can cook whatever you want, if you prefer." Juleka nodded at her brother's suggestion. "What would you like to eat, Marinette?"

"Oh- I…" The guest blushed. "I'm not very picky so… Whatever you want…? Your mom said you're the best at cooking in this house so…" She looked at Juleka and she nodded in agreement.

"Bold of you to assume that. See how skinny we are? Besides, the bar is pretty low, if you ask me. Not very hard to be the best-ouch!" Jukeka hit his ribs with her elbow and glared at him. "A-Anyway-I mean-Are you sure you want to trust me with food?" He teased with a cheeky smile.

"Yes. I want to. I believe in you and Juleka's taste."

Marinette disarmed him with her honest and loving smile. His cheeks turned inevitably red. Juleka blushed slightly, too.

Marinette was so cute. The siblings telepathically agreed.

"O-okay. Then I have no choice but to do my best and cook something so delicious that will make you want to repeat that." He leaned his head to the side, his hand behind his neck."I'll have to go shopping. Are you two okay being home alone?"

Their begging eyes told him they wanted him with them. He found it touching and amusing.

"Whaaaat? Yesterday you were so worried I would embarrass you in front of Marinette and now you don't want me to leave, Juleka?" he teased, hugging her tightly. "My little sister is so cute! Wanting to hang out with her older brother!"

"S-shut up!" Juleka turned red in embarrassment and kicked him in an attempt to get rid of his hold. "Stop it, Luka! It's not like that!"

He was well aware of what was going on, but he didn't want to miss the chance to tease his little sister and to try to lighten the mood between the two girls.

He knew that honestly, both of them were still awkward around each other. That they wanted to get along and get closer, yes, but both of them were shy and afraid to fight again if either of them said or did something wrong or inadequate.

They found themselves more secure and comfortable with Luka around, and he acted in consequence.

"I know, I know." He finally let her go.

"Hmph." Juleka dramatically turned her face away, her hair floating with the movement. Marinette kept begging him with those pure blue eyes…

"Fine," he sighed. "Do you want to come to the market with me?" The girls nodded effusively. "Okay. Let's finish breakfast and go change, then. You can take your time, no rush."

The girls followed his instructions and got back to the living room after a while. Luka was waiting for them with a shopping list in his hand.

"Okay-If you're ready, shall we-? Hm?" A phone call interrupted him. "Mom? Anything wrong?" He continued talking for a couple of minutes. "Okay. Understood. Take care at work. See you later."

Luka found it funny and cute how the girls' questioning facial expressions matched.

"Mom said she's going to make it for lunch," he informed them. "She also said that an employee and friend from the restaurant she usually eats at offered her to take some food home after she mentioned your school project to them. It seems one order was canceled and they had some leftovers," Luka explained. "Or so Mom said... But I think she had ordered the food beforehand. With her, you never know." He shrugged, amused. "It's suspicious how she called to say this only after I messaged her about us going shopping to cook lunch."

"It does sound like one of Mom's schemes…" Juleka nodded in agreement.

"What about shopping then…?" Marinette asked.

"Nothing. I'll go later, before work, or tomorrow, and I'll cook you something for tomorrow's lunch instead, Mom included. If you still aren't afraid of food poisoning, obviously!"

Marinette's face turned purple in shock.

"Wait! I was joking! It's gonna be edible and safe, I promise!" He laughed. "The face you just made was so funny, Marinette."

The guest's face fell down and turned red in embarrassment. Juleka glared at him. Luka felt immediately bad.

"Oh, no! I'm sorry, Marinette. I didn't want to scare you or to make you feel upset or uncomfortable!" He panicked at her unchanging expression. "I won't make stupid or insensitive jokes anymore. Forgive me, please?"

Marinette found Luka's face very close, his eyes on hers, begging for forgiveness. She immediately blushed again, but couldn't articulate a word out of her nerves, mostly due to his proximity.

"Personal space," Juleka mumbled, and Luka stepped back with a jump.

"Sorry," he repeated. "I'll buy food for tomorrow's lunch instead of cooking, if you feel safer…?"

"No!" Marinette finally yelled. "I-I'm sorry! I know you're not going to poison us with your cooking! It's just—" She gulped, aware of the siblings' attention. "We had a case of someone who claimed they had  food poisoning from the bakery in the past. They were lying, obviously, but the bakery took a big hit and my parents had a rough time for a while… Now, hearing the word again, my body instinctively acted at the past memory," she frantically excused herself sadly. "It's not your fault, Luka. And I don't dislike your jokes. But it took me off guard... I'm sorry!"

He sighed in relief and understanding "I'm sorry this happened."

She took a deep breath and smiled at him before she continued. "I'm looking forward to see what you cook for us and find out why your mom is so proud of your impressive cooking skills."

It was Luka's turn to blush. "Mom said that…?"

"Yes, she did."

"She did." Juleka nodded.

The boy's hand rested on the nape of his neck again, sheepishly. "Well, I'll have no choice now but to cook something special and delicious, in that case. I'll make you say you're proud of me too, Juleka," he bragged.

"That's impossible. I'm not saying it," Juleka mumbled with an evil smirk.

"You little stubborn witch!" he joked and she stuck her tongue out in response.

Marinette giggled at the exchange and the siblings soon joined her laughing.

"Okay, why don't you go do something together, since shopping has been canceled? You could show Marinette your nail art and make up skills. What do you say, Jules?" Luka suggested.

Juleka stiffened but Marinette intervened and looked at her. "I want to see it! Can you show me, please?"

Juleka blushed happily at her new friend's begging despite how much she wanted to smack Luka's amused grin from his face.

"Ok…" she mumbled. "But Luka, too?"

His smile remained despite his resigned tone. "Fine, fine…"

Anything for his sister.

__________________

Juleka did Marinette's make up and nail art carefully, almost like a professional, while Luka offered to dye her hair in pink. She told him it was fine to color the tips of the pigtails and a lock of her bangs. Unsure Marinette would like it enough, Luka suggested using the hair chalk they had previously used when Rose stayed over a few weeks ago instead of permanent dye.

Marinette was delighted. Not only did her hair look great, her makeup and nails (adorned with pretty pink flowers) looked flawless as well. A mix of cute and Rock and roll that fit her like a glove.

Luka wasn't exaggerating at all: his sister was incredibly talented.

The girl had also underestimated her purple-haired friend's skills when she did Luka's makeup. "I'm her guinea pig," he said, shrugging, but there was a smile on his face. And he must really be her practicing face, because despite him being already naturally handsome, that eyeliner was doing things to her insides: the revolting swarm of butterflies didn't seem to want to calm down anytime soon.

Noticing how the girls were feeling more comfortable around each other, Luka decided to sneak out and leave them alone. Being caught up with makeup talk, they didn't realize he left until a while later.

Luka looked at them fondly from afar as he prepared his violin.

______________

The sound of the violin coming from outside surprised Marinette.

"My brother," Juleka said, as she prepared her tarot cards.

"Luka plays the violin, too!?" Marinette jumped. "He's so talented!"

"I guess he is…" Juleka mumbled, A minute later, Juleka called for her attention. "Marinette."

"..."

"Marinette?" Juleka called louder.

"Ah! Yes! Sorry!" She was embarrassed for how distracted she had been by Luka's music. "What did you say?"

"The cards. What kind of fortune reading would you like? Family? School? Money? Friendships? Love?" Marinette blushed at 'love.' She really wanted to know that one, but didn't dare to admit it. "Or I can make you a general reading with a bit of everything if you want, but it won't be as detailed."

"A general reading sounds perfect!" Marinette smiled and Juleka nodded.

The purple-haired girl placed the cards carefully over the mat she especially prepared for the occasion, in a certain pattern that was unfamiliar to Marinette. She knew nothing about tarot cards but she was excited to learn more about them and what they were going to tell her.

"Hmmm…" Juleka mumbled something after flipping the cards. "I see…"

"What does it mean? What are the cards telling you?" Marinette asked in excitement.

"There are some confusing cards, but I can tell you an overall summary."

"Okay."

"First, we have family: it says your family is going to grow soon, but not as in a baby, but an adult person?"

That confused Marinette. "What does it mean?"

"I don't know. That's all the cards tell me."

"Hmmm… " 'Maybe I'll finally get a hamster?' she wondered excitedly. "What else?"

Juleka told her she was going to get a bunch of new friends, an incoming monetary reward, and strong health. Regarding her studies, the cards said she was going to struggle with them a bit, but that, if she spent enough time studying, she would pass every subject without complications. Her struggle seemed more likely to be finding the time to study than anything, according to Juleka.

"What about love?" Marinette finally asked, getting impatient.

"Love…" Juleka frowned. "Let's see."

Luka's violin sounded as her background music from outside, distracting her with its beautiful music.

"Oh," Juleka pointed out. "That's interesting."

"What does it say?" Marinette asked, both nervous and excited.

"It says that the love of your life could be closer than you think."

"Really!?" She blushed, the violin sounds still playing in her ears.

Could it be…? With more time…

"-and also that if you speak up, your courage and sincerity will be rewarded."

"Okay! I will!" Marinette realized she said those determined words out loud when Juleka blinked at her in surprise. "Ah-! It's not-!"

"Are you in love, Marinette?" Juleka boldly asked her guest to her surprise

"I-I-I-I'm not!" she stammered. "At least not yet…? I think…?"

The violin, the butterflies, Luka's smile… The signs were there, but she had just met him yesterday! She couldn't be sure yet… even if she wished…  Wait—She wished what? To date Luka? The thought alone made her face burn. The violin music wasn't helping to snap out of her wishful dreaming.

"Hmm." Juleka tilted her head to the side "Should I read you the cards again regarding love only to get more accurate results?"

"N-no! It's fine. I like this reading well enough…"

"It seems that luck is by your side."

"I think so, too." Juleka's smile relieved her. She felt lucky for having been paired with Juleka for the project. "What other fortune readings are there, Juleka? And how precise are they?"

"Oh, there's—" Juleka explained with grand knowledge all the types of readings and fortune telling. Trying a few more out, Marinette's love readings, to her relief, concluded the same as the first one every time. She was excited for it!

_____________

A bit earlier than lunch time, Anarka arrived with a big plate of food. She put it in the oven and asked the girls to set the table and go call Luka to come eat with them.

Lunch was lively with Anarka telling them even more of her crazy stories. Marinette found them fun and very creative, and wondered why the siblings looked like they wanted to disappear out of shame sometimes.

Anarka left back to work early, and Luka took care of the dishes and the cleaning. He hummed a song while doing the tasks, and, meanwhile, the girls ate some ice cream in the green room. Luka joined them soon, but not for long since he had to leave to work, too.

"Take care of the Liberty. See you later." He waved goodbye as he rode off with his bike.

So dreamy…

"Marinette. Your ice cream is melting."

"Ah!"

Now she had to wipe the floor.

_____________

Marinette suggested that, since they were looking pretty with the makeup, they should wear pretty clothes, too. But Juleka didn't have much clothing in her closet, and most of it had rips or was broken at some point.

"Sorry…" she mumbled, holding what used to be her favorite dress. But Marinette was fired up.

"Let me fix those rips for you. Do you have a sewing set?"

Juleka nodded and brought a box to her after a short while.

"Oh—a butter cookie box. Classic. Let's see what I can do… oh—nice! This thread will do!"

Juleka watched carefully as Marinette diligently sewed her clothes, forming a beautiful flower pattern to cover for the previous holes and rips. It looked better than new.

"Ta-da!" She showed off. "Fixed! What do you think?"

"I love it." Juleka beamed. "Thank you."

She proceeded to wear it as soon as Marinette handed it to her and she returned showing it off proudly, pretending to be posing for a photoshoot.

"It looks so good on you! Like a model!" Marinette praised, delighted, and Juleka blushed happily at the compliment. "Oh—I know! Let's take some photos!"

Juleka's body suddenly stiffened and her smile fell flat.

"What's wrong? You don't like photos?" Marinette asked, worried for her sudden sulking.

"Hm." Juleka nodded.

"Why not? You're so beautiful!"

"The curse…" she mumbled.

"Curse?"

Marinette blinked in confusion while Juleka walked away, returning back soon with a photo collection on her computer and a photo album. In almost all her recent photos, Juleka looked either blurry or there was something covering her face.

"How is this possible!? It makes no sense!" Marinette couldn't believe her eyes. She became sad when her new friend seemed on the verge of crying.

"Ah!" Suddenly, she recalled something. "There's no curse, Juleka, and I'm going to prove it to you, right here, right now!" The shorter girl searched inside her bag and took something out of it: a mini photo album. She gave it to Juleka. "Here. Mom took these pictures of us last weekend, when you came home. She thought it would be great to add them to our project" Juleka kept passing the album pages. "You look great in all of them, see?"

Juleka stopped flipping photos when she reached the last page. It wasn't a photo, it was a drawing of her. Signed, Marinette. Said girl noticed what the taller girl was looking at and panicked.

"Ah-not that! I'm sorry!" Her hands moved frantically. "I didn't know Mom added it here! I know I should have asked you if it was okay for me to draw you, but you are so pretty that my hands moved on their own and—" She stopped rambling when Juleka started crying. "Juleka! Oh, no! I'm so sorry! Don't cry, please! I'll destroy the drawing if you hate it so much! Let me—"

But Juleka stopped her and shook her head in denial. Marinette held her breath until she spoke, between whimpers. "Thank you, Marinette. I love it. Don't destroy it, please…"

Marinette was so relieved she leaned towards her and tackled her friend into a hug. "Julekaaa," she cried, too. She was glad Luka and Anarka were out so they didn't witness the scene.

"I'm sorry. My makeup is ruined, now," Marinette apologized, laughing, while drying her tears and snot.

"Mine, too." Juleka giggled too, still tearing up.

They laughed and cried together for a while, and they felt their bond grow stronger.

"Thank you for breaking the curse, Marinette."

"Always happy to help a friend." Her smile warmed the taller girl's heart.

"I'll fix our makeup."

"Okay!" Marinette grinned. "Will you let me take photos of you modeling, then?"

Juleka nodded quietly but more confidently. Later, she told Marinette her dream was to become a model and Marinette found the courage she had lacked before to ask her to be the model of her clothing and works. The purple-haired girl happily agreed.

They spent all afternoon talking about clothes and makeup, having fun together.

____________________

Luka returned home quite late in the evening, welcomed by the girls' happy giggles. He couldn't help it but smile in relief. He knocked before getting inside.

"Hello! I'm back," he greeted. Marinette greeted back with a shy nod, a familiar redness returning to her face. "You seem to be having fun. Can I join you?" He asked.

"No, you can't. It's girls' night tonight." Juleka stuck her tongue out teasingly and Marinette giggled, amused.

"No way!" Luka pretended to be offended. "You begged for me to stay earlier and now that I'm back from work you don't welcome me anymore. Great!" He groaned ironically. "You saw that, right? Do you still think siblings are nice, Marinette?" he teased back.

Juleka threw a cushion to his face and Marinette felt bad for laughing. Her laugh was really cute, Luka thought. Before he could protest, Marinette answered his question.

"I think that either a big brother or a little sister like you two are amazing."

Marinette's honesty left them stunned.

'She's too sweet!' Both siblings thought, telepathically, but neither said it out loud. Instead, Juleka hugged Marinette and told her: "I would like it to have you as a sister, too."

"Awwww."

Marinette wasn't aware of how Juleka's words double edged: kind to Marinette but teasing and threatening to Luka, who was blushing with excitement at what Juleka implied. He wasn't surprised that Juleka had read through him so fast: falling for Marinette after listening to her heart song and spending time with her had been very easy for him. A natural attraction.

He should get ready for Juleka teasing him about his crush on her from now on, shouldn't he?

"Fine, have your girls' night, but don't go to sleep too late, okay?" The girls nodded. "Good night," he said before  leaving them alone.

Marinette tried to focus on the videos they were watching together, but she found it a bit difficult when she heard the water of the shower running close by. The thought made her face burn. If Juleka noticed, she said nothing.

When the movie ended, they were already yawning, so they soon went to bed. This time, unlike the previous day, Juleka faced Marinette, and both girls made sure to wish each other a good night.

#my fic #airip4 #lukanette fic #fic: the weekend project #endgame lukanette #Pro LukaMari

[itssolonelyhere]

Wisteria ~ Chapter 14 "Serpent"

“These are better with some.” He motions towards the Oreos, then rolls up the plastic bag into a small ball. “I know you’re not big on junk food, so I figured the popcorn wouldn’t be too bad.”

How thoughtful. Really. It’s not the kind that’s smothered in butter, either. She looks at him fondly, following his movements as he walks over to the couch. The Hellfire leader shrugs off the vest and leather jacket combo, draping them over the back. Like at The Hideout, he’s wearing a sleeveless band shirt. 

Unintentionally, Chrissy’s gaze begins to wander. Across Eddie’s bare shoulders and down his arms, glossing over the ink etched into his skin. The beast and bats. They’ve grown on her, not seeming nearly as creepy as before. Continuing on, she eyes his forearms and hands, zeroing in on the latter. 

‘They’re nice… I want to see his other tattoos, too.’

This isn’t so unintentional anymore. And is incredibly obvious. There’s nothing discreet about it. Trying to be sneaky didn’t even cross her mind. The strange thoughts and sensations are making it hard to think straight. 

“My, my… You’re making me feel bashful, Chrissy.” He says playfully, crossing his arms. That startles the cheer captain as what she was doing really sinks in. So shameless. “Now I’m not so sure who’s going to be devoured tonight between me or the snacks.” 

“Oh, God!” Hands fly up to cover her reddened face. This is mortifying. Between getting caught so openly and what he said, it’s not clear which is worse. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to be like that.”

“Hey, not complaining over here. I’m flattered. Might even be willing to share some of these Oreos, since that shit works on me.” His laugh sounds a little off, which is noticed right away. She peeks at him from between her fingers and a smirk slowly forms. He wasn’t lying. It really does. Perhaps a little too well. The color in his face and those raised shoulders give it away. 

‘That’s a lot better. I probably still shouldn’t have done that. I’m turning into a real weirdo from hanging out with him.’

“So… Flattery works on you and gets me stuff?” The nonverbal reactions from him help smother some of the shyness. This guy is always teasing her, and she falls for it every time. It’s not fair. And this will go nowhere by being an awkward mess. 

“Absolutely.” Eddie nods with a crooked grin. He said something similar when they were sitting at the picnic table. That time, she didn’t even compliment him or anything, but it got her a twenty-five percent discount on the weed. 

AO3 & FF Link

TW: Mentions of past non-consensual touching, ED, and fighting/blood

Tumblr support really is something else. "Your posts are hidden because you probably used a naughty tag, but we can't tell you which one it is lol. Might be something that fits into one of these three categories. Who knows?" Took almost two months of back-and-forth messaging and deleting every tag from the last six months, so I hope this is back to normal.

#eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #hellcheer #stranger things #eddissy #eddie x chrissy #jason carver #cheddie #stranger things fanfiction #update #tw mentions ed #tw blood #slow burn #hawkins #friends to lovers

[kingexpl0sionmurder]

Body Electric - Kaminari Denki - Smut

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder Pairing: Kaminari Denki/F!Reader Rating: 18+ (contains smut) Words: 5,491 Warnings: Sex work (Cam boy/girl), Quirkless AU, Aged-up Adult characters (someone is in grad school! wow!), mentions of masturbation (both male and female), mentions of casual ShinKami, established KiriBaku, Idk they are all just really sexually liberated and don’t care about watching each other cum. Is that voyeurism? I’m bad at tagging things. Title taken from a Lana Del Rey song. AN: Another BNHarem collab piece! The theme was sex work, and I have wanted to do a camboy Denki for a long time so here we go. This was really smutty in my head but Denki makes me soft and it turned out really cute in the end, I’m sorry? He’s such a dork I feel like any sexual encounter with him would just turn out like this in some way, idk.  Thanks to @unbreakablekiribaku​ and @sailorsero​ as usual for being supportive of me. Happy birthday to @lady-bakuhoe and @burnedbyshoto​ 🎂🎂 There is no one else I would rather be birthday triplets with!

Please check out the Collab Masterlist: HERE Look 👀 at My Masterlist: HERE Buy me a Kofi if you’re scared of clowns too: HERE

---

Sighing, you sat up on your elbows, squinting at the chat on the screen, willing your heart to stop pounding and your breath to even out. The donations were pouring in, the chat moving so fast you couldn’t even read it. “Alright, lovelies, I hope you enjoyed that. Be right back and we’ll chat a little bit, okay?”

Donations popped up, the chat slowing a little as the clients who only came to jerk off to you left, leaving those who considered themselves true fans. You stood and made your way to the bathroom to pee, rinsing your toy off in the sink and washing your hands. You went back to your room, pulling on a hoodie and settling in front of the screen again.

“Alright, I’m back! I have some time for a few questions and then I have to go for the night. Let me see what we got!” You scanned the chat, ignoring the normal inappropriate questions. Mindfucker:  Do you know who Chargebolt is? Cause I heard he watches your stream.

Your heart, which had finally slowed to a normal rhythm, picked up again. You most definitely knew who Chargebolt was. You gave him a good amount of money from your donations when you watched his cam shows yourself. “I do actually, he’s pretty popular on here, isn’t he?” You sat back a little, furrowing your brows. “How do you know he watches me?”

RedDaddy: He did a Q&A and mentioned your channel! Told everyone to check you out.

You recognized the names of the viewers and knew they were also regulars on Chargebolt’s streams as well, so you believed them. Chargebolt was gorgeous and funny, just your type. The knowledge that he was interested in you enough to watch you get off on camera was flattering. You hoped your blush wasn’t showing on your face. 

“I’m surprised he knows who I am!” You had missed the last Q&A he’d done, since it hadn’t been on his normal streaming day, and you’d been stuck at work late. Leaning forward again, you bit your lip, looking into the camera from under your lashes. “Can I tell you guys a secret? I watch him, too. Why do you think I never do shows on Thursdays? That’s Chargebolt day.” With a wink you sat back, trying to will the blush from your cheeks. Mindfucker: I knew it! I bet he’s watching right now. You smiled, shrugging. “I hope he enjoyed the show, then!” You tried to hold it together, suppressing the urge to burst into a fit of giggles at the thought, answering a few more silly questions from your regulars, before signing off for the night, promising to be back again the following week.

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, leaning your head back and groaning. It was wild that the guy whose cam shows you watched on the regular, the one who had inspired you to start your own, who you thought of half the time when you were filming yourself getting off on camera for strangers, knew who you were and was one of your viewers. 

It brought you down a whole rabbit hole for a second, wondering if he got off on you getting off. Why else would he watch? Did he ever donate? You assumed he had a secondary account so you wouldn’t know it was him even if you tried to look at your past viewers, just like you had a secret account so you could watch him as well. 

Cracking your eyes open, you clicked to view the donation tallies for the evening. You’d made enough to pay the rent on your apartment for the month in just one night. Sometimes you wondered how you ever managed to survive before you started doing this. It was meant to be a temporary side job, but you’d been running this cam channel under the screen name Neko for over six months, and you had clawed your way out of debt in such a short time, it didn’t make sense for you to stop.

You viewed a few more visitor stats with interest, before logging off the computer and shutting the laptop. You had to get to sleep for your real job in the morning, so you figured it was time for bed, pushing thoughts of Chargebolt to the back of your mind for now.

It wasn’t until later when you were lying down to sleep, that you thought of him again. Your eyes closed as you ran through a scenario in your head, wondering if he would mention you on Thursday, and what would come of all this? You had noticed your viewer numbers had spiked that day, so it was definitely beneficial that you’d caught his eye. You just weren’t sure what would happen next.

--

Denki was grinning into the camera, wiping the cum off of his abs with the towel he kept beside him, his chest and cheeks flushed pink. He adjusted in his chair, tugging the toy out of his hole and chucking it to the side, pulling his boxers back up over his softening cock. “I hope it was as good for you as it was for me, babes.” 

He chuckled at the comments flooding the chat as he reached for his water and took a sip. 

Tapeman: As always, you never disappoint me, Chargebolt.

“Hey thanks, Tapeman! I appreciate you always coming to hang out...get it? Coming?”

Mindfucker: Ridiculous.

“Aw, you love me, Mindfucker.” He winked at the camera. “So, did you guys enjoy my Q&A the other day?”

The chat filled with praise, making him grin. He loved to talk to his fans, and sometimes they had some great questions for him. He knew a lot of people just watched him as a way to get off, but he liked to give a little piece of himself to them because he knew that most of the people who watched were probably lonely, and he wanted to help with that in some way. He kept things laid back, joking and laughing with his viewers before and after the show, taking requests and doing his best to remember some of the regulars. Some of the few who had been with him from the beginning he’d made into moderators to help with keeping things somewhat orderly in the chat. Some of them he actually knew in real life, like his roommate Hitoshi, who used the alias Mindfucker.

Mindfucker: So are we going to talk about Neko? Denki’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, you mean the stream the other day? It was…” He made the appropriate motion as he said it. “Chef’s kiss, immaculate. She’s so beautiful…” Trailing off, he let himself think back to the way your chest heaved and the face you made when you came. “I would do anything for her, man.”

RedDaddy: Dude, I agree! She’s also super sweet, like, the total package.

Sighing, he leaned his elbow on the desk, his cheek resting on his palm. “I am a simp, my guy.” He sat up, squinting at the chat. “She said she watches, right? Is she here right now?” He scanned the names of the viewers, frowning. “She probably has a second account. Well, if you’re here, Neko, you should hit me up. I read all of my DM’s okay?” He grinned, winking again. “Alright, I have to go feed the cats so I’m outie 5000, thanks for hanging out and I��ll see you guys next week!”

He said his goodbyes, ending the stream and sighing. He wiped off his toy with the towel and clicked through his stats for the day, smiling at some of the comments that came with the donations. Hitoshi came into his room a few minutes later, holding one of the cats, an orange tabby named Miso, in his arms. “I fed them, you don’t have to.”

Was it weird that his roommate watched him fuck himself on toys and jerk off on the internet on a weekly basis? Nope. Denki had forgone all sense of modesty when it came to sex a long time ago, and Hitoshi was the same. It helped that they fucked around on occasion, best friends who got lonely and lived together sometimes did that, he guessed. Or maybe they were weird. It was whatever, he didn’t like to think about it too much. 

“What would I do without you, Toshi?”

“Kill the cats, probably.” He deadpanned, leaning in the doorway. “Burn all the toast you try to make, buy the wrong peanut butter, eat Cheese-Itz for breakfast every day, forget to pay the cable bill.” He raised his eyebrows. “I can keep going.”

“Fuck off, I got the all-natural peanut butter once, it was an accident!” Denki threw his soiled towel into the laundry basket by the closet and picked up the toy he’d used, waving it around a bit. “Did you enjoy the stream?”

Hitoshi snorted, eyeing the dildo warily. “I didn’t really watch, I had my eye on the chat. I was looking for Neko.”

“Man, I can’t believe she’s a fan!” He waved the dildo some more, watching as it jiggled. “I would let her do unspeakable things to me.”

“Look out, your sub is showing, Denki.” Hitoshi teased. “But I agree, she’s pretty great. I wonder if she’ll ever do private shows.” Pausing to scritch Miso behind the ears, he continued. “I’m sure they’d be in high demand.”

Denki stood, pointing at Hitoshi with the dildo. He really needed to put it down somewhere and stop brandishing it around like a sword. “Don’t even, I’d spend all my money on that girl.” 

“I know you would.” He chuckled. “I did try to go through the usernames and see if I could find out who she could be, but I didn’t have any luck.”

“It’s okay! I’m leaving it up to fate now, man. If the universe wants us to know each other, we will.” He stuck his thumb towards the ensuite. “I’m going to wash my ass and then we can play Among Us if you want.”

Hitoshi, completely unphased as usual, nodded. “I’ll get a team together. Check the discord when you get out.”

Humming, Denki made his way to the bathroom, picking up his phone on the way. It buzzed as he closed the door, and he glanced down to see he had a message from his other moderator and friend, Eijirou, aka RedDaddy. Tossing the dildo in the sink, he looked down at the screen and opened the message.

Eiji: No luck on finding Neko on the stream, but she said she never misses a Thursday, so I bet she was there.

Denki: Thanks for keeping an eye out, man. I appreciate you. Among us in 30?

Eiji: Bet. I’ll ask Kats to play too.

--

Your next stream day had you feeling nervous. Chargebolt had talked directly at you on his last stream, asking you to slide into his DMs, and you had yet to take him up on it. You didn’t know what you were so scared of, Chargebolt was a nice guy. You chalked it up to the fear of the unknown. If you sent him a message, what would you even say? ‘Hey dude, nice cock?’ It was bound to be a disaster.

Pushing your nerves back down, you made sure you were ready for your stream, excited for the news you were about to drop on your viewers. You were needing a little extra cash due to some unfortunate car trouble, and you’d figured out a way to make up what you needed in record time.

“Hey everyone, welcome!” You smiled at the camera, waving your fingers. “Thanks for coming! I see a lot of familiar names here tonight. Hi Mindfucker, Dynamight, RedDaddy, Tapeman, LightningMcQueen!”

LightningMcQueen: Hey, beautiful! I’ve been looking forward to this all week.

Dynamight: Chill out, McQueen, you look desperate.

RedDaddy: Be nice, Dynamight. Hi, Neko!

Dynamight: Fuck off, Shittyhair.

Mindfucker: How’s your cat, Neko?

“Be good, Dynamight. You’re lucky I know you don’t mean that!” You giggled at the antics of your regulars, smiling at the question about your cat. “Ichigo is doing good, Mindfucker, thanks for asking! I’ll bring her on camera after the show if you want to say hi!”

Minfucker just sent a cat emoji and you laughed, shaking your head. “I’m beginning to think that you’re just here for Ichigo and not me.”

The chat went crazy with people denying it, telling you how much they loved watching you every week. You lit up, feeling more excited about your news.

“So I have something I want to discuss before we get started today. I’ve decided I want to try out doing some private shows, so I’m going to be offering up a few spots. I’m going to give some of my longest and most frequent supporters a shot first, and if all goes well, then I’ll open them up to the rest of you! I’ll be adding a signup link at the bottom of my page after tonight’s stream, so if you’re interested you can apply and I’ll pick a few of you and we’ll work out a schedule! How does that sound?”

Dynamight: McQueen already has his credit card ready I bet.

“Aw, you don’t want to play with me, Dynamight?” You teased, giving the camera your best pout.

Dynamight: You couldn’t handle me, Princess.

LightningMcQueen: Hush. You’re a bottom, Dyna.

Dynamight: Die you fucking extra.

LightningMcQueen: Love you too, blasty.

“I was going to let you pick the toy today, Dynamight, but if you can’t behave then I’m just going to have to let someone else have a turn.” You gave the camera a disapproving look, frowning. You’d picked up that these guys were friends, so you knew they were just messing with each other.

A donation popped up from Dynamight with a comment attached. 

Let McQueen choose this time, babe.

“It looks like Dynamight is going to let you choose, McQueen. Which one?” You pulled over the box you kept your toys in and showed it to the camera. “Pick a color.”

LightningMcQueen: Yellow

You pulled the yellow silicone out of the box and showed it to the chat, smirking. “I call this one Chargebolt because it’s the same color as his hair. Are you sure this is the one you want me to use?”

--

When your stream ended, Denki leaned back in his chair, taking a deep breath. The fact that he’d watched you fuck yourself with a dildo that you’d named after him was the hottest thing he could have imagined. He was jealous of that piece of bright yellow silicone more than he should be. He’d still enjoyed it, if the mess across his abs and chest were any indication. 

He cleaned himself up and pulled on a shirt, clicking on the link for the private show signup. It was pretty straightforward, listing the price and how long the show would be, and asking for his username and what he would be interested in doing or seeing and what day would work best.

Staring at the form for a moment, he contemplated his options. He could sign up with his LightningMcQueen account, and he might have a chance. He was the first one out of his friends to find your channel one night when he was bored and horny. Then he’d shown it to Hitoshi and then shared your info with Eijirou, Katsuki, and Hanta. He would be considered one of the longest and loyal viewers like you had said.

However, if you got a request from Chargebolt? What would you do? Would you ignore it? 

“Toshi!” He called out, knowing his roommate would hear him without him having to get up. “I’m having a crisis!”

The door opened, and the purple-haired man stood in the doorway. “I am not prepared to handle your bi panic right now, Denki.”

“Are you going to put in for a private show from Neko?” Denki pushed on, ignoring his friend’s exasperation. 

“I spoke that into existence last week, you know. You’re welcome.”

Flopping back in his chair, Denki closed his eyes. “Should I send in the request with this account or with the Chargebolt one?”

Hitoshi shrugged, watching their cat Sashimi wander into the room. “You’ve wanted to talk to her for ages, man. You could have messaged her forever ago and you wouldn’t be playing this game with her. Sign up with your actual account.”

“I mean, she must think I’m cute, right? Otherwise, she wouldn’t watch.” He sat up, logging out of his secondary account and into his main one. He had a few unread DM’s, so he clicked, his breath catching in his throat. “Dude, look.”

There was a message from you, short but sweet.

Hi, Chargebolt. I don’t know if you saw the stream today, but you should check it out if you haven’t. I left it up for you.”

“She wants you to see her use that dildo she named after you.” Hitoshi patted his shoulder, and then bent down to pick up Sashimi. “I signed up but I told her I just wanted to have a date with her cat. She probably won’t pick me.”

“She will, she loves cats.” Denki clicked on your page and scrolled down to the bottom where the signup was again, letting it populate his main account in the information, and writing ‘any day except Thursday’ in the section for the time that worked for him. “I’m going to get this girl to date me, just you watch.”

Snorting, his roommate closed the door behind him as he left. “I believe in you, Pikachu.”

Once his request was submitted, he went back to his DM’s and sent you a message back.

“I was there, Neko. I never miss a stream. I submitted for a private show, so I hope you’ll pick me. I’ve been one of your viewers since the beginning, you know.”

---

In your head, you tried to plan what you would say once you were face to face (via camera) with the one and only Chargebolt. Everything your brain seemed to come up with fell short. What did you say to this guy, who you’d been simping over for over 9 months, who lit up your screen every Thursday with terrible puns and panty-dropping smiles? You knew exactly what he looked like and sounded like when he came. It was a strange thing to think that you knew that but you’d never actually spoken to him before.

It made you feel a little better when you realized he knew just as much about you. That he watched you fuck yourself on a dildo you’d named after him, and then spent the rest of the stream showing off your fluffy white cat Ichigo. 

It was time to put on your big girl panties. You could do this. 

Chargebolt had been one of the few that you’d chosen to do these shows with. He was also the last one. You’d met with 4 others, the ones who were the most active in your chat, the ones you assumed were actually friends. 

Your first one was with Tapeman, who asked you to call him Sero. He was cute, with the widest, prettiest smile you’d ever seen. He made you laugh, and called you beautiful, and spoke to you in Spanish. You didn’t feel uncomfortable once with him, and the experience gave you hope that the rest would be just as nice.

Mindfucker was next, whose name was Shinsou and lowkey your favorite one. He didn’t want anything sexual at all, which surprised you. You sat with him and drank tea and you got to meet his two fur children, Miso and Sashimi, while he told you about his roommate. You let him admire Ichigo, and talked about music. He was sarcastic, but not in a mean way, and you were pretty sure he was going to be your new best friend.

RedDaddy and Dynamight had asked to do theirs together since they were dating. You wanted to question why they both watched your stream but RedDaddy, who was actually named Kirishima, answered it for you.

“We’re both bi, and we think you’re cute!”

“Yeah, plus McQueen has a thing for you so we like to be in the chat to help him out.” Dynamite, aka Bakugou, added in his gruff voice, folding his arms across his chest.

“Aw, that’s sweet!” You smiled at them. “He didn’t request a private show though, so I guess he doesn’t like me that much.”

Bakugou coughed and Kirishima grinned. “Maybe he was nervous! I’m sure you’ll meet him in one of these someday!”

“Enough about that dumbass.” Bakugou leaned forward, his hand on Kirishima’s knee. “Give us a show and we’ll give you one in return. Use that orange and green one for me, Princess.”

And give you a show they did. You got lost in how they looked at each other while they jerked each other off, and you were pretty sure they forgot you were even there at some point. When it was over, you suggested that they start their own channel.

Bakugou scoffed, but you could tell he was blushing a bit.

“I don’t know, Neko. I don’t think I could share him with anyone else. Except you, you’re the exception.” Kirishima grinned, winking at you.

But now it was Chargebolt’s turn. You made sure you had everything you needed, making sure Ichigo was out of the room, and then signed into your account. 

Chargebolt was online, so you made the private room and sent him the request. You felt like you were shaking, and you checked yourself in the camera to make sure you didn’t look like a wreck.

You barely had time to breathe before he entered the chat, his camera screen coming to life and showing you his smiling face. You melted a bit, biting your lip, gazing at how attractive he was. 

“Hey, Neko!” Chargebolt was as vibrant as ever, tucking his hair behind his ears, the black lightning bolt in his hair dark against the bright yellow of the rest of it.

“It’s nice to see you, Chargebolt.” You tried to relax, rolling your shoulders back. “It’s kind of weird knowing you can see me too.”

He laughed, leaning back in his chair. You tried not to stare at his arms in the tank top he was wearing. Chargebolt had a small frame, but his muscles were defined. You’d seen him plow through an entire bag of chips on stream once, without pausing to breathe, so you assumed he must be one of those people with amazing metabolism that you envied. “You can call me Denki if you want, kitten.”

You choked on air at the nickname, trying to compose yourself. “Kitten?”

“Well, Neko means cat, doesn’t it?” He raised an eyebrow. “I won’t call you that if you don’t like it.”

“No!” You practically shouted. “No, I mean, it’s fine. I like it.”

“Sweet.” He grinned. “Man, I’ve wanted to get you alone like this for so long, and now I’m just feeling really nervous.”

“You’re nervous?” You were surprised. The always cool but super dorky Chargebolt was nervous because of you? “So am I.”

Chargebolt- sorry, Denki, rested his elbow on the desk, propping his head in his hand. “Well, glad to know I’m not the only disaster here. I’ve been trying to get the courage to talk to you for months, and then finally Hitoshi got me to talk about you on stream a few weeks ago, and now here we are.”

“Who’s Hitoshi? One of your regulars?” Knowing that you weren’t the only one who was sweating bullets had you relaxing a bit. 

“Oh yeah, Mindfucker! You know him right? He did a thing with you the other day, didn’t he?”

Eyes wide, you stared at him. “Shinsou?”

“Yeah, that’s my best friend and my roommate. He said he showed you the cats.” He shrugged. “You picked all my friends for your private shows. Sero, Kiri, Bakugou, Shinsou.” He paused, smirking. “I forgot that you don’t know that I’m LightningMcQueen.”

“That’s you? I was wondering why they didn’t send me a request, but it all makes sense now.”

Denki shot you finger guns and winked. “Kachow!”

“Oh god, stop it.” You rolled your eyes.

He chuckled, grinning at you. “So, did Shinsou talk about me?”

You giggled, remembering back. “He told me a story about how his roommate mistook a fuzzball for a spider and spent the afternoon sitting on a table waiting for him to come home and kill it.”

“It looked like one of those freaky poisonous ones from where I was sitting. I was afraid to let it out of my sight in case it got away and then multiplied and killed me in my sleep or something.” He took a deep breath. “Spiders are terrifying.”

This man was amazing. “You are everything I always thought you’d be, you know that?”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” He sighed. “You have to have some kind of embarrassing story to tell me so I don’t feel like a fool. You’ve got to make it even.”

“One year my dad hired a clown to come to my birthday party. He walked in the front door and I jetted out the back door and hid in the garden until he left. Clowns are just as terrifying as spiders.”

Chargebolt laughed, and the sound made your stomach do a somersault. It was just as bright and happy as he was. “That is the cutest shit I’ve ever heard!”

“I’m glad my childhood trauma is amusing you.” You deadpanned, trying to keep the smile off your face.

“Aw, don’t be like that kitten! I’m glad we can bond over our irrational fears like this, you know?” He 

You shivered happily. “Okay, okay.” You cleared your throat. “So, you didn’t write anything down here for what you wanted out of our chat today.”

“Oh, okay, down to business then.” He sat up straight. “Well, I wanted to tell you myself instead of submitting it on the form.”

Intrigued, you raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t want to give me a chance to back out?”

Snorting, and shook his head. “Nah, I think you’ll like it, kitten.” He folded his hands behind his head. “I want you to tell me what to do. I’m at your mercy.”

Swallowing thickly, you blinked at him. That was...really hot. “You like being told what to do?”

“I would love nothing more for you to pull my hair and peg me within an inch of my life while calling me your little cock slut.” He stared at you with an eyebrow raised, looking pleased with himself when he saw your expression.

Your thighs clenched together involuntarily. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, right? I mean, I’m a switch, I’d do the same to you if you asked.  But we can save that for next time.” He smirked. “So, you down?”

Next time? This man was going to kill you. “Take off your shirt, Denki.”

“Fuck yes.” He groaned, reaching behind him and tugging the garment over his head. 

His chest and abs came into view, and you let your eyes linger on the barbells through his nipples. “Pants too.”

He pushed his chair away from his desk and shimmied out of his shorts, kicking them to the side. You gazed at him in his blue boxer briefs, eyes lingering on his thin waist, strong thighs, and the outline of his cock. He was a sight to behold, honestly.

You held the fangirling back, leaning forward to get a better look at him. “Do you have any toys, Denki?”

“Of course, Kitten.” He moved out of view for a moment, coming back with a box. 

“Let me see.” He tilted the box towards the camera, your eyes flitting over the different colors and shapes inside. “The pink one.” 

“Okay, hang on, let me-” He cut off, standing up and throwing the pink toy on the bed. He picked up the laptop and moved it, laying down beside it and angling the camera so you could see what he was doing.

“Did you stretch yourself, baby?” 

He made a noise that sounded like a whine in the back of his throat at the pet name, obviously pleased by it. “Yeah, of course I did.” He glanced at the screen. “You should, uh, take your shirt off too.”

“I thought you wanted me to tell you what to do, not the other way around.” Teasing him, you crossed your arms over your chest.

He pouted slightly. “I’ve been good so far though, right?”

“All you’ve done is take off two items of clothing and move to the bed. You’re gonna have to work harder than that!”

Huffing, he lifted his ass off the bed and tugged his underwear down his legs, kicking them off, his hand already moving to wrap around his already hard cock.

“Did I say you could touch yourself, Denki?” It was getting hard to keep up the stern act you were putting on, but you knew it was what he wanted. You wanted to watch him touch himself, watch the way his eyes fluttered closed when his thumb brushed over the leaking head of his cock, and the way he would bite his lip when he moved his wrist a certain way.

You could be patient though, so you continued.

“If I was there right now, what would you want me to do first?”

He stilled, blinking at you a few times. “I would want your mouth first, I think.”

Humming, you sat back, pulling your shirt over your head, letting him admire the lacey purple bra covering your chest. “You’d want my mouth on your cock? Trace my tongue along that vein along the underside and suck on the head a little?”

Denki groaned, closing his eyes, his grip visibly tightening around his shaft. He looked like he was trying not to get worked up too fast. You were amazed at how your words were affecting him, so you pressed on.

“I’d take you all the way down until I was choking on it, and I’d let you hold onto my hair and fuck my face. God, you don’t know how many times I've dreamed about doing that for you. What would you say to that?”

The blush spreading down his neck and chest made him look so pretty. “Ugh, fuck kitten, you’re killing me.” He swallowed hard, opening his eyes to look at you again. “I’d tell you how good you made me feel, but I wouldn’t let you finish me off that way.”

“Oh no? Tell me what else you’d do.” You took the opportunity to move to the bed yourself, pulling off your leggings and panties all at once. 

Eyes glued to you while you unclipped your bra and threw it across the room, he continued. “Fuck, um, I would...god, you’re beautiful.”

Flushing at the compliment, you looked down shyly, breaking character. “I’ve heard you say that before and I still don’t believe it.”

Denki scoffed. “If you need a daily reminder, I’d be happy to be the one to tell you, kitten.” You could hear the sincerity in his voice, and it made your heart do a little flip. “I might seem like a dumbass but I’m using this camboy money to pay off my student loans for my masters in English lit so I can quote you entire sonnets from Shakespeare without hesitation if that will help you believe me.”

Your eyebrows shot up, impressed. Realizing you’d ruined the moment, you sighed, covering your eyes with your hand. “I’m sorry, I’m crap at this. I really just want to watch you cum.”

Chuckling, you heard him shifting on the bed. “Okay, how about this? Forget the toys. Just close your eyes and listen to me.”

“Okay.”

“If you were here with me right now, just like that, I’d spend so much time exploring every inch of you with my tongue. I’d start with your lips, your jaw, your neck. Collarbones, shoulders, your chest, those cute nipples-”

“How are nipples cute?” You interrupted with a snort.

You could hear him trying not to laugh, his voice pitched a bit higher. “Shh, don’t ruin it.”

“I think you just did when you said ‘cute nipples’.” You’d never had this much fun with someone in a situation like this. “If I had a dick, my boner would have just died.”

Denki wheezed, and you opened your eyes to look over at him. He was gazing back at you, his eyes bright as he laughed into his palm. “God, I like you so much, kitten.”

Your grin softened, your heart pounding at his words. “Me too, Denki.” 

#kaminari denki #kaminari denki x reader #kaminari denki smut #denki kaminari #denki kaminari x reader #denki kaminari smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #kingexpl0sionmurder writes #bnharem collab

[gojology]

Intense Healing Session.

the request :

pairing : caring! healer! fem! reader x gojo satoru hehhehe warnings : cursing, implications of seggs after sum intense kissing, pet names wordcount : 2.0k a/n : yoyo i’m back!! semi-long one for u all. cute request, anon. sorry for late delivery. pls dont rate me a 1/5 on yelp </3 hehe the title is kinda funny LOL

     You’re beginning to hate Satoru.        Surprisingly, it’s not for the reasons people dislike him- he’s a bit of a blabbermouth, never quite learned how to seal his lips just because of how important he was to the jujutsu world. Unsurprisingly, he gets away with everything because he’s attractive and crucial to defeating curses, and there’s no shame in admitting it.       People hate Satoru for his destructive personality, he’s carefree and doesn’t let anything get to him. This may be a good trait for the untrained eye, but look carefully and you’ll see just how hectic he gets. It’s manageable since you don’t have to deal with him at the level of the Jujutsu elders.       You don’t particularly hate him for this, though.       It’s the fact he puts you through so much work, for almost no reason. You’re a healer- something very important to the quaint school that you worked at. Healing abilities are often overlooked, it’s often said that if a jujutsu sorcerer can’t provide offense, then they’re not much of a jujutsu sorcerer. Unfortunately, you have little to no talent in the battlefield, so essentially you’re a meat shield to everyone.      It was a growing occurrence to see him after every business trip, slightly roughed up but not enough to kill him. He comes into the room you share alongside Shoko, almost always when she’s not there, takes his shirt off, and displays a wide variety of cuts and bruises on his back like he’s a museum. You’d scold him, asking him how he’d get such abrasions with his infinity up constantly- but Satoru would hum, unanswering while you’re working your hands on his back.      Maybe you’re overreacting- but something tells you he does this on purpose, perhaps to fuck with you, and you’re bitter about it.     So it wasn’t surprising to see him whistle a sweet tune, hands shoved deep into his uniform pockets, casually strolling into the medical attention room for the fifth time this month.    “Gojo Satoru.” you say his full name aloud, just so he knows how much you hate his presence. Turning to look at you, his face displays innocent shock, but you just know that he’s probably rolling around in the inside seeing how riled up you got just by him stepping into the room.     Drained, lifeless eyes stare back at his childish bright ones.     Gojo places a hand on his chest defensively, “Well, I’ll be, Y/N. When did you want to disrespect your senior?” he snickers before shutting the door behind him. “You mad?”      “Unbearably. Lucky I care for you.” you utter back, venom dripping in your words, you feel like you’re making a fool of yourself as you shove your lunch aside that you had been enjoying on the tiny table next to you, sighing and rubbing your temples, tugging and effectively straightening your coat. “Get on the bed, let me work my magic.”     Looking at you with a shit-eating grin, he whistles, placing his elbows against the mattress, his roughened hands caressing his cheeks. “Working your magic? I’m interested. Tell me more, Y/N. Does this involve... Getting naked, perhaps?”     Staggering, you give him a dirty glare, “Satoru! I’ve been working my ass off like every week to get you all healed up, and you dare be perverted in my-”     “No cursing, lil girl! You wouldn’t want this rubbing off on Yuuji-kun and everyone else, would you? You’d be charged with a felony!” leaving you stunned for a second time- the first time being when his lanky figure strode into the room like it was his room- you don’t even know how to respond. How could one possibly be so... Ungrateful for your work?  Well, then again the elders existed... That was besides the point, though. You’re not even sure if Yuuji knows what the word fuck or shit is.     He drags his finger lazily along the cot, drawing various shapes into existence, giving you a skeptical look. “Not gonna answer? Stumped?”     He broke through your train of thought, and you shake your head. “Satoru, I don’t know any sort of fighting jujutsu, but I will fucking pulverize you and make sure you’ll be dust by the time I’m done with y-”     Butting in, he raises his hand as a way to shut you up. “Honeybun, you’re an amazing jujutsu sorcerer, but I hope you realize why they call me the strongest of all time. If you haven’t noticed, it’s because I have a constant shield. The closest you can get to doing that is maybe poking me.”     Giving him a snooty face, you’re frankly about to push him out of the room with sheer willpower and hatred alone. It seems he realizes this, a moment of adoration flickering across his eyes before finally neutralizing. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop playing with you. You’re so cute when I do though, like a little... Rabid raccoon! How can I not resist?”     It’s difficult to tell if that’s a compliment or an insult, with Satoru, it could be several things. But, you’re still slightly flattered, knowing him he’d go out of his way to lengthen his insult if it was one- just another reason why you hated him. Being called a rabid raccoon was definitely not on Satoru’s top 10 utterly offensive insults.       “Shut up, Satoru. Here, take off your shirt, what did you get yourself into this time?”       He obliges with a nasty grin on his handsome features, hastily yanking off his uniform. Underneath was a very meticulously trained body, toned muscles and all. You can’t help but to also catch a glimpse of his collarbones, which were so defined it looked like it could cut your butter for your morning pancakes. You gulp, blinking, you had forgotten just how well-shaped he was in the one week you hadn’t seen him.       “No need to stare, sweetums.” he chirps, realizing your darkening cheeks. “Feed my ego any more and I’ll probably burst and my organs will decorate your walls. You can donate my body to the local college, they’ll be surprised by how top-notch they are.”       Giving him another stern, but much more sheepish gaze, he snaps his mouth shut, but a triumphant smile replaced his grin in place.      “Please, no gruesome detailing. I’d much rather my cute kitten posters.” you motion to a white cat slumbering peacefully in a basket.      “Looks just like you.” he says.      You close your eyes and pretend he’s not there, choosing to ignore yet another one of his compliments, but your heart thumps faster in your heaving chest. Heaven knows how curious your hands could get if you could see where you were touching-      “Those are my abs, Y/N. I think we’re focusing on my back.” he muses aloud in an almost teasing tone. You can already imagine how obnoxious his face is, opening your eyes hesitantly, blinking to adjust to the bright room lights. Your hands are still hovering above his abs, his gaze is upon yours, looking at you with a mix of speculation and speechlessness. Instead of his unusual smug smirk, there’s an almost coy expression on his features, which shocked you.        “How’d your hands get there? Last time I checked, abs are at the front, not the back, hmmm?”        You grit your teeth, your face flush with warmth at your sudden realization. There was no cheeky retort you could’ve possibly come up with, after all, he was right, how did your hands wander to his abs? You weren’t thinking of doing it. You weren’t interested in him either, but he was attractive. Of course you’d be too curious for your own good.. Yes, that was it..       “Your hands are still on an inappropriate place, Y/N. Except, a lil lower than last time.” he chuckles wholesomely as you jerk up, straightening yourself and clearly sweating, your arm wiping your brow and exhaling a drawn-out and awfully dramatic sigh.       “Give me a break, Satoru. I just, um, you know... Zone out.” your pitch was unconvincing, high-pitched and wavering, bringing your chances of believability to a low.      “So, this is like, the 375th time since you’ve zoned out, lil girl.” he tsks, “You’ve gotta sound convincing if you wanna fuckin lie, you know.”      “I--” you falter, now clearly a shade darker than you were just 5 minutes ago. Your heart beating so rapidly it was almost like you were running a marathon. Why was your pulse so quick? Why was everything in the room a blur besides him? Why couldn’t you focus on healing him? What was he doing to you?      “You haven’t even begun the healing process.” he murmurs, his large hands caressing your arm that was by your side. “Anything you want to tell me, pumpkin? I’m on a tight ass schedule, but I’ll let Ijichi solve that. Spit it out.”       His voice rang out high and clear amongst the hectic fight that was going inside your head, steadying your thoughts. A few moments pass by, studying him, lips moving but no words coming out. Why was it so difficult to say through the insults, you cared for him, and wanted him to be more careful? Was it because of the monster inside of you, who wanted him to get hurt, to spend his time with you, listen to his horrible compliments and giggle at the jokes he made as you worked at a snail’s pace on his back, that weren’t even funny, but was funny because of his presence in the dead room, his boyish laugh very much needed in such days of flatness?      “Satoru..” you finally muster out, his eyes flickering on you once more as he was studying the kitten poster with much boredom. “I just.. Care for you.”      “Huh.” is all he says, face falling and examining the spotless floor. “Is that all?”      Acknowledging his body language, you huff, suddenly filled with the need to defend yourself. “What else did you want me to say? I just feel like you’ve gotten yourself hurt a lot more recently and... I just, want you to be more careful. That’s all.”     “No.” he was barely audible, so you had to lean down to hear him. “No, that’s not it at all. You’re hiding something. Do you prefer me to say it?”     Puzzled, you peer at him with childlike curiosity gleaming in your eyes. What did he know about you that you didn’t? Surely, you knew all about yourself?    “You’re not that fucking dumb, are you?”     “Huh?-” you begin to speak, clearly offended, but you’re stopped.     By none other than his lips.      They’re soft, pillow-like even. A familiar warmth floods inside of you at the sudden physical contact from Satoru, except it’s amplified by 10 times. A moan slips out of your mouth, his hand against your back so suddenly you could’ve sworn it wasn’t there just a millisecond ago. His lips were mashing against yours, as if he wanted to have done this a long time ago. You hungrily push back, teasing your mouth with his tongue that slipped just barely into your mouth before indulging in you, which you thought wouldn’t had ever happened prior to this.      You grip the back of his head firmly, as if he were to escape, other hand tangled in his snow white tufts of hair. Eyelashes fluttering, heavy breathes fanning out both of your noses, your lips were sure to be swollen after this. Your tongues dueling each other, working your mouth against his. His unoccupied hands start to play with the hem of your shirt, and another moan slips out of your mouth, anxious to have progressed so far to the removal of clothing, but at this point, you’re ready for anything.    ‧₊˚✩彡.       “I don’t think Gojo-Senpai and Y/N-Senpai are just in an intense healing session.” breathed Yuuji with a terrified look in his eyes, clutching his arm that was bloodied up, his head leaned close to the firmly shut door.        Nobara looked like she was about to faint, looking at the door as if it was a several feet tall monstrosity of a curse.        “What? What are they doing in there?” Megumi knelt down to where Yuuji was, pushing his ear against the door, and immediately his eyes shot open, a traumatized look in his fearful eyes.        “What the fuck.” 

#gojo satoru #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo satoru #gojo satoru fic #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x fem reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen fic #gojou satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #anime fic #fanfiction #fanfic #gojo satoru scenario #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #gojo imagine

[bump1nthen1ght]

Meet Cute (GN!Reader/Mothman)

Pairing: GenderNeutral!Reader/Male!Mothman

Genre: Cryptids

Warnings: Car accidents, descriptions of bruisings and pain

Word Count: 2564 words

Summary: After an incident, You find yourself in the care of a rather strange savior.

Request: Hey, long time fan, but I could never think of anything to request! I was wondering if cryptids were considered monsters here? Would you be willing to write a meet-cute with Mothman? Maybe something along the lines of them saving the reader from a disaster and sparks fly, and boy, if that's not a pun: like a moth to a flame. Mothman can be man or gender neutral, and I'd like the reader to be gender neutral! But everything is to your discretion! Have fun~! And thank you~!

He doesn’t usually do this.

As he cradles your neck, feeling the microfibers of human hair at the base of your skull and your thrumming heartbeat, it feels as if you could shatter apart in his talons. Your pupils flutter behind your eyelids, the pain of the collison definitely affecting you, even in your near-unconscious state. He sets you down on the scraps of thrown away jackets and ratty down-comforters, paying extra attention to your head and side, where splotches of purple and yellow already bloom up your ribcage. You easily fall into the warmth of the pile, snuggling into the fabric.

He sighs, anxiety decreasing as your body relaxes. Having already checked you, he thinks you should last a night before needing to go to a human hospital, just to double-check. He perches by you, tuning the ancient radio to a subtle night-time station, and waits.

Your chest flutters rhythmically, peacefully. Your features seem to shine in the firelight, catching the shadows and giving the appearance of a Baroque painting. So serene for someone just hit by a car.

He sighs.

He just hopes you won’t freak out.

-------

You wake up in a jerk, immediately filled with regret as your right side screams in pain. You clench your teeth, hand immediately checking your ribs as the memories of last night come flooding back.

You had been walking back home after a night out with your friends. You weren’t drunk, barely even tipsy, but had decided to walk the short path to your tiny house anyway. It was quick, just a 5 minute jaunt by the side of the highway and away from the bar. Just enough time for some asshole to swerve off the side of the road, send you flying, and take off without a care for the deer they assumed they just killed.

It takes a little while longer for you to process that you are definitely not in a hospital right now; Not even in your own house, or any house for that matter. A dying fire crackles nearby, the rising sun beams peaking through makeshift curtains attached to a structure of branches. You sit in a small pallet of fabric, right next to a collection of newspapers and old cctvs.

It’s ramshackle, sure, but well-loved. It doesn’t look like a permanent residence, but is lived-in nonetheless.

“Are you feeling alright?”

A calm tenor breaks the silence, causing you to shoot your eyes away from your surroundings and to focus on the person across from you.

Well, person probably isn’t the right word.

His eyes, even in the morning light, flash with red. They’re huge, set deeply into his face with very indistinguishable features. His neck is nestled into a large amount of fluff, reminiscent of winter scarf, that extends back into his large wings, which are tucked behind him. The antennas that flicker on top of his head are distinctly insect-like, but his long, muscular body and hands are more mammalian. Not human, but more similar to an animal. His hands are long and near-spindly, each finger ended with a long claw.

All these features should come together into an uncanny-valley, terror-inducing nightmare. But there’s something about his voice, the way he sits, so cautious yet concerned, that says the contrary.

“U-Uh...I think so.” You shift your body, a lightning bolt of pain shoots through your ribs and you wince. “I’ve felt better, though.” You tentatively lean down and touch your side, trying to check for a fracture without hurting yourself even more.

The creature stands up, wings still closed and kept to his back, and walks over to you.

“Would you mind if I checked your injuries? I have some experience with collisions such as yours.”

After a second, you nod. He steps closer to you, still moving at a micro-speed, and his hands slowly begin to wander up your side. You suck in a breath, but are more afraid of the potential pain than him. His slow, southern drawl reminds you of old movies and your grandpa, radiating comfort with almost every word. Plus, whatever he was, he had shown you more compassion than the human asshole who had hit you last night, so you felt a little more relaxed having him this close.

Nevertheless, he treats you gingerly, fingers just grazing your bruised side. You wince as his index finger finds a particularly dark bruise, and the creature quickly pulls back.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, it just-fuck that hurt.”

The creature nods but doesn’t move to touch you again.

“Does it hurt when you breathe deeply?”

You shake your head. You had been taking calming breaths to assuage the anxiety of waking up in what might be a monster’s den.

The monster hums, a light chittering sound, like several wind chimes all at once. He reaches over to a small, nearly-rotted, medicine bag in the corner and pulls out an ancient-looking jar of pain cream. He gingerly slides it towards you. “You may try this, it might relieve the pain for a while. Although you should probably see a human doctor to see if you’ve sustained any serious damage to your ribcage.”

You uncork the cream and tentatively dab a bit on your fingers, looking up with a  shaky smile to your savior.

“Uh, t-thank you. For everything-”

Growl

Your hand jerks to your stomach, face going flush as you accidentally brush against your swollen side. The creature perks up.

“I believe I have some human food. Would you like some?”

Sucking in a quick breath, trying to hide the tiny pain and your embarrassment, you nod.

The creature stands up, fumbling with the remains of a kitchen cabinet. From his hunched posture, you’d guess this tiny shelter isn’t big enough for his full height. With his long fingers, he reaches and flicks on the radio. The sounds of a local station’s jingle filters through the air as he grabs a can of beans from a shelf.

You slowly begin to rub in the medication to your side, occasionally looking up at your savior as he flutters around his den. Despite his extended limbs and large body, every movement is very similar to that of a human’s; He moves around the make-shift kitchen like a doting partner, a thought which brings a small blush to your face.

The illusion is shattered when he tears the top of the can clean off, cutting through the metal like a hot knife through butter. As he turns to rekindle the fire and start your breakfast, you quickly look back to your wound, trying to hide your curiosity.

The creature lazily stirs your breakfast as a song begins playing on the radio. The strumming bass is perfect for the morning haze, the low drawl of the singer rhythmic and relaxing. You notice the creature bobbing his head, humming along to the tune. His voice sounds slightly distorted, squeaking like the crackle of tv static. You find you quite like it.

The silence returns, filled only by the radio and the crackling fire. The creature's disposition is amicable, but you're still not sure how to initiate small talk.

“Um, thank you, again. For everything. You really saved my ass.”

The creature gestures with their hand as if to say “No problem.”

“I saw that man hit you with that car and take off. As you were hidden from the road, I thought it best I intervene.” The creature pulls off the now-cooked beans and grabs a spoon, handing the can to you. You take it eagerly, another rumble growling from your stomach. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were, foregoing all table manners to scarf down the breakfast.

“If I am being honest, I don’t typically interact with humans in such a….direct manner.”

“Ah, I guess that,” You eyes do another survey of his gangly, inhuman appearance, “makes sense.”

The creature nods, grabbing an apple before sitting across the fire from you. You can tell he is tense, probably waiting with baited breath for you to come to your senses and scream. There is a small part of you that wants too, desperately, but you silence it with a large mouthful of beans. The apple is tossed back and forth between the creatures hands, his eyes locked on the fire. The curiosity of how he eats things sneaks its way into your thought process. “Do you have a name?”

The creature perks, pausing it’s movements and looking at you with its large, red eyes.

“.....I’ve heard humans call me Mothman. I think it is quite accurate.”

You nod, swallowing down another bite of beans. “Do you...like that name?”

The creature doesn’t respond, eyes still piercing into your heart. His face has a small micro-expression, but you’re not sure you can read it. “Because my brother always said first impressions are the perfect time to reinvent yourself, so I could call you something else if you wanted?”

The creature's eyes flicker, in a movement you think is slight shock, before his eyes roll back to the fire. The small light of the fire flatters the dark black of his fur (You think it’s fur?) and only accentuate his large eyes, flashing and reflecting like rubies. In his relaxed position, he sort of looks….handsome.

“You may call me Mothman. Thank you for asking.”

You nod, letting the strumming banjo of a new song on the radio fill the void. The bouncy beat has you unconsciously bobbing your head as you scoop a spoonful.

“I love this song.” You mutter, lamenting how you're almost out of food to stuff your mouth with.

Mothman hums in agreement. “Me as well, this station is my favorite.”

Given your empty bean can, you take the leap into a conversation.

“Do you have a favorite kind of music genre?”

Mothman fiddles with the stem of his apple, brow (if it can even be called that) furrowing.

“I guess I never thought of what my favorite would be. I mostly listen to whatever the radio plays, enjoyable or not. Though,” Mothman points his thumb to the radio, “I love the sound this instrument makes, though I am unsure what it is called. It’s almost like….”

Mothman’s voice begins to make a squeaking trill, one extremely similar to that of plucked strings, although much sharper and shorter.

“Oh, you mean the banjo? Uh, the one that goes like-” You try your best to imitate the chords of the banjo, unconsciously moving your fingers to imitate playing. It’s not nearly as musical as Mothmans’, but his eyes widen and he nods excitedly.

“Yes! Yes, that sound is very pleasant. I’d say any music with that in it is my favorite.”

“Ah, country, that’s a really popular one around here. Have you ever heard ‘Goodbye Earl’ by The Chicks?”

Mothman shakes his head. Your face drops in surprise.

“Oh, it’s so good, it’s about-” As you lean over to give a long spiel about the song, another bolt of pain shoots up your side, forcing you to bite your cheek so as to not cry out. You keel over your legs, clutching your rib cage.

Right, car accident.

In a second, Mothman is next to you, tentatively laying a hand on your shoulder. His fingertips just barely brush your skin, yet you can still feel a slight fuzziness, the same that covers his whole body.

“You might want to see a human doctor, soon.” You suck in through your teeth, slowly adjusting yourself back upwards. “Yeah, yeah, that’s probably a smart idea.

“I can take you as far as the end of the highway, if you’d like to call a friend or a cab.”

You nod, not trusting your voice to stay steady. Mothman’s other hand slowly moves to your other hip, only applying a modicum of pressure.

“May I help you stand up?” He almost-whispers, a hot breath of air blowing across the side of your neck as he speaks. A shiver runs down your spine as his large fingers play gently against your skin, covering a good portion of your pelvis. You’re thankful you can explain away any blush with the pain. You nod once more.

The two of you stand up gingerly, Mothman almost extending to his full height and brushing the blanket-ceiling with his antennae. You take a couple of small steps, the pain in your side taking the occasional moment to sting you.

Your eyes squint as you exit the encampment, sun already fully risen and in your face.

“If at any point you feel uncomfortable or in pain, let me know.”

You turn your head towards Mothman, but before you can ask any questions he sweeps you up in a bridal carry and extends his wings in one motion. From the corner of your eyes you can see dark red patterns that swirl on them, invisible until caught by the sunlight. Your hands instinctively lace around his neck, fingers tucking into the soft fluff of his neck. Mothman gives you a quick nod and what you think is an assuring smile

Without a word, you two take off.

----------

You two fly low to the ground, Mothman expertly maneuvering through the trees and underbrush as he glides along the highway. You’re sure if you were to drive by, he’d look like a flickering shadow in the woods, nothing more.

He sets you down by the edge of town, just out of sight of the semi-busy main street. You basically collapse to your feet, heart pounding with adrenaline and mind wracked with “Holy fuck, I just flew with the goddamn Mothman.”

“This is where I must depart. Do you think you can find suitable transportation to the hospital from here?”

You nod, still trying to wrestle your vocabulary from ‘What the fuck, Holy shit, Oh my god.’

Mothman gives you another smile and comforting nod, patting you on the shoulder.

“Very good. Good luck on your travels. Oh, and try not to be hit by any cars, alright?”

With a playful glare from you, Mothman begins to unfurl his wings and ready himself to fly back into the woods, buut before he can-

“Wait! Uh….” Mothman halts, wings still wide open. Your mouth and mind stagger, not even sure what you wanted to say. “I have some old country cassettes back at my place. If I found my mom’s old WalkMan I could….show them to you? Some time, maybe? Give you a chance to be your own radio DJ?”

Mothman’s face remains relatively neutral, but the way his antennae unfurl and his wings slightly perk upwards betrays his interest. It’s extremely adorable, like a little kid who hears the word ‘ice cream.’

“Yes, I think I would love that.”

“A-Awesome.” You breath out, not realizing how long you had held it in. “Same place, maybe next Saturday? Though hopefully I won’t be thrown in there by a car this time.”

Mothman lets out a series of squeaks, which you assume is his laugh. He gives you a thumbs up. “Cool, it’s a date.”

With the last word, you walk away, still hobbling with your probably-fractured rib, a large smile on your face.

As Mothman flies away, the cold wind of a West Virginia morning blowing across his body, he can’t deny the certain warmth that radiates from his chest.

I have a date.

#my writing #mothman #monster x reader #monster romance #gender neutral reader #reader insert #mothman x reader #fluff #cryptids

[atlafan]

Office Neighbors - Part Two

a/n: here we are! a little shorter than part one, but there’s some good stuff in here I think! enjoy! (also reblogs/feedback is super helpful) not proofread

warnings: fluff, slight smut (but not with who you think) 

words: 10K

masterpost

You groan heavily when your alarm goes off at 5AM Tuesday morning. You wanted to make sure your body had time to go to the bathroom before Harry picked you up. You knuckle at your eyes, and then get out of bed. You make yourself a quick iced coffee, and then get dressed. You decide on a cropped pair of leggings and one of your t-shirts that wicks away sweat. You pack an extra pair of socks, another shirt, and another sports bra just in case you get really sweaty. You make yourself some trail mix, and throw an extra water into your pack. Harry said he would bring actual sandwiches for the two of you. You get your ponytail through your hat, and use the bathroom again before waiting him.

Harry: here

You grab your pack and head out to his car. He had similar attire on as he did when you hiked with him the last time. Shorts, a sleeveless top, bandana and clip holding his hair back. You both nod at each other. It was still too early to speak. When you get to the trailhead you both spray each other with bug spray and begin.

“How long do you think it’ll take?” You speak up.

“Why, you in a hurry?” He smirks at you.

“No.” You nudge him. “Just wondering.”

“It’s about two and half miles up. It’s gradual, but there are also some really steep parts. If I were jogging, it would only take a couple of hours, but we can take our time. That’s why I wanted to leave so early.”

“You’ve…you’ve jogged this?”

“Sure.” He shrugs. “It’s just running uphill.”

“Big nope from me.” You laugh. “I like the idea of just taking our time.”

“You get a fuller experience that way, I think. Don’t be afraid to tell me you need a break too. Some of the steeper parts are killer.”

“Will do.”

You both talk about your fall courses, what you plan to do differently, if anything. You talk about how you’re actually excited to have some student advisees, and how you might approach the meetings.

“It’s okay not to be super serious. Most importantly, you just need to listen, which you should have no problem with. You’re a good listener.” He says, blushing slightly.

“Sort of trained to be one.” You chuckle. “But I get what you mean. Now that I know the curriculum and the course sequence a little better, I definitely feel more confident to lead them in the…wow…that is steep.” You gulp as you look at the area ahead.

“We’ll just take our time.” He smiles. “It’s not a race.”

You make it up the first steep hump, and you tell him you need a water break.

“Christ, and here I thought I was in shape.”

“Hiking can be pretty humbling.” He uses a rag to wipe some sweat from his forehead, and takes a drink of water as well. “All set?”

“Mhm, let’s keep going.”

Every so often you stop to take pictures, and there is a moment where Harry veers off so he can have a “wee”, as he would call it. You had drank half your bottle of water and you definitely needed to pee too, but you were too embarrassed.

“Are you sure you don’t need to go?”

“I’m fine.”

“Look, that’s a flatter area, you could-“

“What if I get a mosquito bite…down there?” You whisper.

“It’s not mosquito season.” He laughs. “Did you bring some T-“

“Yes.” You mumble.

“So, just go, it’s fine. You’re being silly. I’ll stand right over there and keep watch.”

“Ugh, I can’t believe I’m doing this.” You groan and take the bit of toilet paper you brought out of your bag. Your eyes stay glued to the back Harry’s head while you do your business. You stick your rubbish into a plastic bag and stuff it away, then you use some hand sanitizer. “Okay.”

“All set?” He turns to look at you. “Not so bad, was it?”

“Not something I’d like to make a habit of, but no, it wasn’t terrible.”

It takes about two and half hours to get to the summit. You both were sticky with sweat, but it was worth it from the view alone.

“Oh my god.” You say slowly as you look around. “This is incredible.”

“Isn’t it? I feel so lucky to live here.”

“I’m starting to feel the same way for sure.” You take a few photos before sitting down, letting out a sigh.

You look over at Harry who’s taking his shirt off and your eyes widen. You knew about the birds on his collar bones, but the butterfly and the ferns were a complete surprise. Harry had such a nice body. He was toned, but still had a softness to him. He notices you looking at him and he blushes.

“Sorry, I’m soaked.”

“No, it’s okay…sorry, I just…your tattoos, I haven’t seen those ones.”

“Oh…” He looks down at himself. “I got these so long ago. Got a few more you haven’t seen.” He pulls up one side of his shorts so you can see the tiger on his thigh.

“Didn’t those huge ones hurt?”

“Eh.” He says sitting down next to you, grabbing a sip of his water. “Some did and some didn’t. The trick is to get a little tipsy beforehand.” He winks at you. He leans back on his elbows and closes his eyes for a moment before looking out at the view again.

“You know, I think you had the right idea about the shirt…do you mind?”

“What?”

“Well, if I took mine off for a bit. I packed myself a spare, but-“

“Oh! Yeah, um, I don’t care, uh, do what makes you comfortable.”

You nod and peel your shirt off. You lay it on the ground next to you, feeling better already from the breeze hitting your hot skin. You were glad you thought to wear one of your cuter sports bras. Your heart was racing slightly, mostly because it had been a while since you had last taken your clothes off in front of someone, but it was just Harry, after all.

“I brought some peanut butter sandwiches, are you hungry? I know it’s not exactly lunch time, but-“

“That sounds amazing, I’m starving. I didn’t eat beforehand.”

“You didn’t?!” He sits up fully.

“I didn’t want to have to…really go to the bathroom.”

“Oh, Y/N.” He laughs while he gets the sandwiches out of his pack. “Here.”

“Thank you.” She notices his eyes drift to her cleavage. It was only for a moment, and she didn’t mind it.

“No problem.”

If Harry were twenty-years-old he’d probably try to make a move. Kiss you, press you up against a tree, fuck, put his hand over your mouth so other hikers wouldn’t be able to hear you moan. But he wasn’t twenty-years-old, he was thirty-two, and he had an eleven-year-old son who he wouldn’t want to treat a woman like that. He wanted to set a good example, to show him how a respectful man treats a woman. So, he eats his own sandwich, trying to keep his eyes anywhere but your body.

“Do you want some trail mix?” You take it out of your bag.

“Sure! Thanks.” He reaches his hand in the bag and takes some out.

You guzzle down some more of your water and stand up. You didn’t want to sit too long and get stiff.

“Harry, would you take my picture?”

“Of course.” He stands up and takes your phone. He smiles at your smile as he snaps the photo.

“How about a selfie?”

“Of the two of us?”

“Yeah.”

“Like this?” You made him so fucking nervous, he was never like this with anyone else.

“I don’t care if you don’t. I’ll just stand here, and you can stand in front of me to get the shot.”

“Oh, right.” He thought to maybe put his arm around you, but that clearly wasn’t happening. You both smile and he takes the shot.

“Do you two want a picture?” A woman says. She was with a couple of other people. “I’d be happy to take it for you.”

“That would be great!” You snatch your phone from Harry’s hand and give it to her. “Are you still sweaty?” You look up at him.

“I don’t think so.”

“Good.” You put your arm around his waist, and he puts an arm around you, hand on your shoulder.

“Alright, I took a couple.”

“Thank you so much, would your group like any?”

“Would you mind?”

“Not at all.”

You take a few photos for the group and then you look over the photos of you and Harry.

“These are great.” You smile and show him.

“You’ll send those to me, yeah?”

“Of course.”

“I’m walking down like this, I don’t wanna get my spare shirt sweaty. I was thinking we could grab a real lunch after this…if you don’t mind me taking up your entire day that is.”

“I would love nothing more than to stuff my face after this, Har.”

You decide to just go down in your sports bra, not wanting to get your spare shirt sweaty either. The way down feels like it takes no time at all. It was definitely easier to hike down a mountain than to hike up a mountain. That is, until you got to one of the steeper parts.

“Just step down on the side and take slow steps. Don’t go straight down.”

“Would, um, hold my hand? I’m a little nervous.”

“Of course.” He looks back at you and takes your hand, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

He helps you down the steeper parts, taking your hand each time until things get more gradual again. You feel incredibly proud of yourself once you’re back at the parking area.

“That was amazing, Harry. I feel amazing.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

“Andy’s done that with you before?”

“Oh, sure. Plenty of times.”

“Incredible.” You chuckle as you grab your spare bra and shirt from your pack. Harry dabs his chest with a rag before putting his t-shirt on. “Shit, where should I change?”

“Um…backseat?”

“I’ll just be a second.”

He nods and waits outside the car while you quickly change. You feel so much relief letting your breasts free, giving yourself a second to cool off before putting your fresh bra on. You pull your t-shirt on overhead and get out to sit in the passenger seat. Harry hops in the driver’s seat and off you go.

“I can’t believe it’s only 12:30.”

“Another benefit of getting up early. Did you see how full the lot was? People are so uneducated. I’d never start a hike now.”

“I know! There were so many people going up when we were coming down. I couldn’t believe it.”

“And now they’ll have to rush.”

“Have you ever hiked at night before?”

“I have, actually. I used to help lead this moonlit hike thing during move-in weekend for first year students. It was a lot of fun.”

“How come you stopped?”

“Not a junior faculty anymore.” He shrugs. “I just didn’t feel like it after a certain point. I still help with other things, but I definitely don’t give up all my free time to the school anymore.”

“I volunteered for that casino night last fall. I was on campus until almost midnight, I was pooped. Sometimes those kids make me feel so old.”

“You’re not old.” He chuckles.

“I mean, I know, I just feel out of touch sometimes.”

“How can a person who studies social media feel out of touch?” He raises an eyebrow at you.

“It’s more so the lingo. I was giving a lecture, and I made a really great point, and when I was done one student shouted ‘period’ and everyone laughed. I had to look it up on urban dictionary.” You both laugh at that.

Harry drives into town, and parks near the local diner.

“How do you feel about brunch?”

“Sounds amazing.”

You both get out and head inside. The morning rush was gone already, so you’re sat right away. You both inhale your food. Greasy hash browns and omelets. And coffee, a lot more coffee. You split the bill and Harry starts the drive to your apartment.

“So, you’ll hike with me again?”

“I’ll hike with you again.” You nod with a smile. “Do you think Andy will be jealous?”

“Nah, he already knows. I’m sure he’ll be expecting lots of details.”

“About what?”

“Um, just how the view was and all that.”

“Right.” He pulls up in front of your house, and you both look at each other. “One of these days you’ll let me pick you up.” You unbuckle your seat belt and he nods. “Thanks again.”

“Anytime.”

“I’d hug you…but I’m a little gross, so…”

“No worries.”

“Well…” You weren’t sure what the next time you were going to see him was.

“Sometimes, while Andy is still in school, I’ll use the library on campus to work on things. It’s got a/c…less stuffy than our offices. I usually only go on a rainy day, but-“

“Cute, we can study together like classmates.” You giggle. “I’ll let you know if I decide to use the space.” You smile and get out of the car.

//

Harry was enjoying his shower, it was quick, but it was good to clean off. He throws on some comfy clothes and nearly dozes off on the couch.

“Dad, I’m home!” Andy shouts, immediately waking him up. “How was the hike?” He plops down on the couch next to Harry.

“It was good, Y/N had a nice time.”

“Is she going to come camping with us?”

“I’m…not sure.” He sighs. “That’s not something just a friend would join in on, you know?”

“I don’t, but…”

“I’m not going to press her about it, I think she’s thinking it over. We’ve got time yet…” He sits up a little straighter. “When Mum comes to get you on Friday she’s going to come in for a bit and chat.”

“About what?”

“What you want to do this summer.”

“I spend summers with you.”

“Yes, but usually you spend the school year with her, that’s why you get me over the summer.”

“You don’t want me this summer?” He leans into him to rest his head on Harry’s chest, and Harry puts his arm around his son.

“Of course I do, but your Mum wants you too. I don’t know, I’m going to propose she get you for July, and I get you for August, I think that’s a good compromise, but she may not see it that way.”

“What about June?”

“Well, you have school for most of June, so you could go be with her end of June through July. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it? I wouldn’t hate having my own lake to swim in every day.”

“I guess that’s true…and Noah’s boat is pretty cool.” He sighs.

“I just wanted to give you the heads up.”

“Thanks.”

Harry was up reading in bed later that night. The rain had started and he could hear it tapping on his window, almost starting to lull him to sleep. He heard his phone buzz and his eyes lit up when he saw it was you.

You: hey! Almost forgot to send these to you!

You sent along all of the photos from the day.

Harry: thanks! Really glad that lady was there to take these of us

You: me too…so when exactly is this camping trip?

Harry: middle of June…when Andy gets out of school…June 20th I think

You: if I really won’t be intruding, I think I’d like to go. I’m trying to do more things to get out of my comfort zone

Harry: are you serious?! He’ll be so excited…I mean, I’m excited too.

Harry: I think he wants his friend Brandon to come so having another adult there would be a huge help

He didn’t want his first text to sound too eager.

You: lol well I’m happy to help how I can ;p you’ll tell me what to pack and all that right? I literally have no idea what I would need for overnight stuff

Harry: if you can get yourself a sleeping bag you’ll be all set, I have two tents and a ton of camping stuff. You would just want to bring your own food, clothes, etc.

You: alright sounds good :)

//

Harry hadn’t told Andy about you coming on the trip just yet. He wanted to save it as good news in case the conversation about summer with Paige didn’t go well.

“I guess let’s just start.” Paige says after eating a quick dinner with Harry and Andy in Harry’s home. “Ideally, what would you prefer?” She asks her son.

“To not go back and forth a lot. It stresses me out, I feel like I need to remember every little thing I don’t have two of.”

“Do you have any vacations or anything planned?” Harry asks, looking at his planner. “Right now for us it’s just the camping trip, and that’ll only be the weekend he gets out of school.”

“I was hoping to have him for the fourth. The Barrett’s are coming to staycation at the rental two doors down.”

“Really?!” Andy perks up. “I like when they visit.”

“So…why not spend the rest of June with me,” Harry begins. “You could do July with mum, and then come back to me mid-August.”

“That actually sounds good to me.” Paige says.

“What about Brandon?”

“It’s only a thirty minute drive, I’m sure his dad won’t mind it when you two wanna hang out. Hell, I’ll even come pick you up and bring back here if need be.”

“And if there’s a weekend you wanna just come see Dad in July, you can. You won’t be held hostage.”

“It’s just…you work during the day, Mum.”

“I know honey, but Noah’s got the home office. He can stay in with you and Rachel, and you two could go swimming and have fun at the lake. He could take you on boat rides too.”

“Okay.”

“Really?” She says.

“Yeah, I think all that seems fair.” He looks at the two of them. “I know…I know I can be sort of difficult sometimes, and I’m really grateful that I got to spend the school year with Dad, and I really hope I get to do it again…”

“I think that can be arranged.” Paige smiles. “You’ve never done so well in school, we’re both so proud of you.”

“Yeah, bud, I think this school was a good fit for you.”

“So…I’ll be able to do it again next year, I can keep living with you?”

“If that’s what you want, Mum and I are okay with this new arrangement.”

Andy shoots out of his seat and hugs the both of them.

“Go on and get your things for the weekend, sweetheart.” Paige smiles.

“Okay!” Andy races into his room.

“You’re surprisingly cool with all this.” Harry says to her as they both stand.

“I want him to be happy, and if he’s happier here then what can I do?” She shrugs. “Are you alright continuing to take all this on?”

“Yeah, plus he’s getting older. He can be home for a bit before I am.” Paige hums her response. “How, um, how did you feel about my friend?”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah.”

“She was really nice! She seems sweet, why?”

“She’s going to come camping with us.” Harry whispers. “And I just wanted to make sure you felt comfortable with it.”

“Oh, Harry.” Paige smiles. “Thank you, yeah, I’m perfectly fine with it. Andy seems to really like her.”

“Who?” Andy says, coming out with his backpack and duffle.

“Y/N.” Harry says. “I told her how you wanted Brandon to come camping, and I’ll need some help, so she’s coming camping with us.”

“She is?! Oh my god, we gotta work on your flirting then, Dad. You need help.”

“Excuse me? I’m great at flirting.” He scoffs. “Back me up.” He says to Paige.

“It’s true, Andy.” She chuckles. “Your dad can really turn on the charm when he wants to.”

“Well, you didn’t see him trying to ask her to come to my birthday party. I thought he was going to wet his pants!” He laughs.

“Oi, I was just trying to play it cool before you blurted it out.”

“So, what, you have a thing for her?” Paige asks.

“I like her, yeah.”

“Does she like you?”

“She must if she’s coming overnight with us, right?”

“You know, I’ve never really known you to hold back with a woman you liked before…” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“I work with her, it’s a little more complicated. She’s mentioned a couple of times how she doesn’t think dating in the workplace is smart, just offhand, so I’ve been nervous.”

“I think you guys should hang out again before the trip.” Andy says. “Oh! You could go to her place to help her pack.”

“I’m not gonna invite myself over!” Harry rolls his eyes. “Alright, that’s enough. Go have a good weekend with Mum.”

Andy laughs and gives his dad a hug before leaving with Paige.

//

“God, you feel so good, it’s been way too long.” Ray grunts in your ear. “Should have never stopped doing this.”

Ray was an old flame from your previous institution. You decided to go home to Boston this weekend because your brother had some new recipes he wanted you to try. You happened to bump into Ray at a bar, and went with him back to his place for some promised fun. He was a decent enough fuck, he knew how to scratch your itch, and that was good enough right now. Although, you didn’t feel the need to answer his dirty talk. You just grunt and moan and try to focus on what you’re after.

You’re close, but you’re not quite getting there. He was fucking into you from behind, and hitting the right spots, but it wasn’t…it just wasn’t…

Harry.

Your fingers slip to your clit, and you rub harsh circles into yourself as Ray continues to fuck into you. Your eyes pinch closed, and suddenly there are tattooed arms around you. A raspy, deep voice in your ear.

“Come on, you can do it. Show how you make yourself come.”

Your eyes snap open and roll back when you feel your release. You cry out and collapse onto the bed after Ray spills into the condom. You get up after catching your breath to use the bathroom. Ray watches as you put your clothes on.

“Going so soon?”

“Yeah, I’m staying with my brother…be sort of weird not to come back tonight.”

“It was great to be able to do this again.”

“Yeah.” You smile and kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks for the fun.”

On your uber ride back, it starts to settle into your mind that you just had to fantasize about your friend, Harry Styles, to get off while having sex with someone else. This wasn’t an accidental dream, this was on purpose.

“Shit.” You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh. This camping trip wasn’t going to be easy.

//

Harry: hey! Was wondering if you want to come out and have some ice cream with Andy and I? He got straight A’s! Think it’s worth celebrating.

You: oh wow! Sure, I could definitely meet up for ice cream. Just at the place down town?”

Harry: yup! 6:30PM work?

You: sure! See you soon :)

Harry: :)

“Andy…”

“Yeah, Dad?”

“Wh…what’s this?” He shows Andy the text conversation on his phone.

“Oh…I, uh, asked Y/N to get ice cream with us while you were in the shower.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me to ask her?!”

“Does it matter? She said yes.”

“Of course it matters! Ugh, I can’t believe I’m gonna have to change my passcode again.” He reads over the conversation again. “I should ground you or something…no toppings on your ice cream.”

“But-“

“Sorry, thems the rules.” Harry smirks and grabs his keys.

You were waiting patiently outside of the ice cream shop for the two of them. You smile when you see Harry’s car pull up. They both get out and greet you.

“Congratulations, Andy.”

“Thanks!” He gives you a quick hug before going inside. You and Harry follow.

“Hey, uh…” He grabs your wrist. “Not that I’m upset or anything…but he actually stole my phone and texted you.”

“Oh!” You start laughing. “Glad I didn’t say anything naughty then.” You wink and walk up to the ice cream counter. You all get your ice cream and sit at a table across the street in the town common. “No toppings, Andy? I’m surprised you didn’t get a sundae.”

“Dad said I couldn’t.” He huffs, and bites into his mint chip ice cream.

“That’s what you get for stealing my phone, you little bugger.” Harry jostles the hair on Andy’s head, and Andy swats his hand away. “Did you have a nice weekend with your brother?”

You nearly choke on your ice cream. You clear your throat and nod.

“Yeah, um, yeah it was good. He came up with this new sauce for his raviolis, it was delicious.”

“Do anything else? Must be nice to go to a city that has things open past 9PM.” He chuckles.

“Um, yeah, I mean I went out, but nothing too exciting to report back.” You were blushing slightly. “So, Andy, straight A’s, how’d you manage that?”

“Brandon and I call each other to do homework a lot. He’s really smart.”

“So are you, don’t sell yourself short. You’ve worked hard this year.” Harry says.

“Yeah, but Brandon’s, like, really smart.” You furrow your brows a little as your lips curve up. It almost sounded like Andy was swooning. “He’s really excited to come camping with us this weekend. Are you excited too, Y/N?”

“I’m…excited to see how it goes.” You laugh. “Should be interesting to say the least. Instead of you coming to get me I could just meet you at your house so we can leave from there.”

“That would be great. Brandon’s sleeping over the night before so we can just get up and go.”

“You should sleep over too, Y/N.” Andy says.

“Andy.” Harry says to him.

“I’ll need all the sleep I can get before camping, and in order to do that I need my own bed, but thank you very much for the offer.” You smile.

“I could swing by the night before, though, and pack everything up in the car.” Harry says.

“Now there’s an idea.” You say with a grin.

//

“Okay, I’m trusting you both to be good while I’m gone for a bit. I shouldn’t be out too long, but still. Please be good.”

“We’re literally watching a movie then going to sleep, I don’t think we’re going to burn the house down.” Andy says, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, Mr. Styles, go see your girlfriend, we’ll be fine.”

“She’s not my…” He sighs. “I’ll be back soon.”

Harry drives to your apartment, and you buzz him in when he gets there. You had gotten caught up all day doing research, so you were running around in a tank top, shorts, and socks. Your door was open for him. It was the first time he had ever been inside your place.

“Y/N?”

“Coming!” You yell from your bedroom. “I’m so sorry, I’m not quite all there yet.” You say, dragging out your pack. “I can’t seem to get the sleeping bag on here without it unravelling.” You look up at him and pout.

Harry was sweating. Even though he had seen you in just a sports bra and leggings, this was almost more revealing.

“I can, uh, get it to stay on there tighter for you.”

“You’re amazing.” You go back into your room to pull out a couple of more things. “I definitely over packed…it’s going to be too heavy.”

“I kept some room in mine in case this happened, no worries.” He gets the sleeping bag tied on correctly. “There we go.” He stands up and is suddenly only inches away from you.

“Let me give you the tour.” You step back. “It’s a two bedroom, I use the other one as an office. It’s way too much of a mess to show you but, that’s the living room.” You show him. “Got a half bath over there, and full bath down the hall, kitchen…and that’s my bedroom.”

“It’s really nice.” He walks around with his hands behind his back. “You’re really good at decorating. Are you sure you didn’t go to school for interior design?” He raises an eyebrow at you, making you giggle.

“No, but it’s certainly a hobby of mine. It relaxes me to look through magazines and go to stores to get ideas.”

“Your office at work has the perfect balance. Mine must look all over the place.”

“No! I love your office, it’s very inviting.”

“Thanks.” He looks you up and down. “Are these the, uh, pj’s you packed for camping? You may get cold.”

“I’m not an idiot, I packed sweats.”

“Oh…good.”

“What are the sleeping arrangements going to be like?”

“Well, I have two tents. One for the boys, and then I have this larger one I figured we could, um, share…if it’s not too buggy I may sleep outside. Would you feel comfortable being in the same tent?”

“Sure.” You shrug. “I was going to make some tea, would you like some, or do you need to get back to them?”

“They should be fine on their own for a bit longer, a cup of tea sounds great.”

You nod, and his eye grows when he notices a park on the back of one of your shoulders. It looked like a fading bite mark. He glares at you without you seeing. Who the fuck did that to you? He wonders. It should be him leaving marks on you.

“So, when you went to Boston, you really didn’t do much?” He asks as he sits down at your kitchen island.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly going to get into it in front of your son.” You chuckle and turn your electric kettle on. “I went out to an old bar I used to go to when I was living in the area, ran into an old friend.”

“And how was that?”

“Okay.” You shrug, and put two tea bags into a couple of mugs. You pour the water over them and put one in front of him.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So…you and this friend…” He just wanted to confirm if his suspicion was true. “Did anything happen?”

“Like what?” Harry rolls his eyes at you. “Oh! Harry…”

“Come on, you can tell me.” He was trying to pal around, he just needed to know the truth.

“He was an ex-boyfriend…and…yada yada yada.” You sip your tea. “I don’t know why I did it…guess I just wanted to feel close to someone, and it was easy with someone familiar.”

“Right, I get that.” It stung to hear. “Paige and I hooked up a few times after we ended it. Sometimes you just wanna be with someone who knows what you like without you having to say it.” He thought he’d sting you a bit too.

“Mhm.” You didn’t want to think about Paige getting to fuck Harry. Perhaps if you had been drunk you would have asked him what he liked.

“Well, I should probably get going. Early day tomorrow and all, thanks for the tea.”

He grabs your pack and you walk him to the door.

“I’ll be at your place for seven. See you in the morning.”

“See you in the morning.”

//

You drive to Harry’s house in the morning, and the kids burst outside with a little too much energy for you so early. Harry says hello to you, and you notice he’s not wearing his glasses, something he rarely did.

“Morning.” He mumbles.

“Morning.” You open the passenger car door and get in. The boys climb in the backseat.

“Alright.” Harry turns to look at them. “I had to listen to you two hyenas all night. I’d like a nice, quiet ride to the trail head, got it?”

“Yes.” They both say at the same time.

You smile at Harry and he winks at you as he pulls out of the driveway. It’s about a forty-five minute long ride to the trail head. Harry parks and gets everything out of the car. The boys walk a few paces ahead of you and Harry like you expected them to.

“So, they kept you up?”

“You have no idea. I must have told them three times to knock it off.” He groans. “Little…twats.” He says under his breath and you can’t help but laugh.

“I heard that!” Andy says without looking.

“Good, you were supposed to!”

“Are you his father or his brother?” You tease.

“He’s just trying to act cool in front of his friend.” Harry nods toward Brandon. “Which I get, but I can’t let him get away with too much.”

“So, how come people tend to do this overnight?”

“Well, it’s about five miles up, and that’ll take the majority of the day. It’s not really safe to hike at night, so we set up camp, have dinner, hang out, and then once the sun goes down we’ll set up a campfire and stuff like that.”

“I’m excited to see the sun rise.”

“Yeah, that’s the best part. I taught Andy about sun salutations so we’ll be doing that too.”

“And you’ll teach me too, right?”

“Of course, you can follow right along.”

You smile at each other and keep walking. You all take your time, enjoying the scenery around you. An hour or so in you all stop to take water and snack breaks. The boys go off to have a wee, and then you keep going.

“So, you said there’s no shower at these bathrooms, right?”

“No, there’s not. But you can use the sink, and they do have men’s and women’s separate restrooms, so you’ll have some privacy.”

“Okay, great. I just didn’t want to feel gross when we go to sleep.” Harry nods at you. “It’s such a beautiful day. I’m really glad I’m here with you.” You clear your throat. “With all of you.”

“Yeah, me too.”

At one point you needed to stop to pee. Harry got the boys to not giggle and tease you, somehow, as you took a few moments to get yourself situated. You were about midway, and Harry knew the part of the trail where you could see out just a little bit. It was nice and flat, and the perfect spot for lunch. They were light lunches, veggies, nuts, and more water. Harry explained it wouldn’t be good to fill up too much because it would make going up a mountain that much more difficult.

“When will you two know what class you’re in next year? Sixth grade, that’s pretty wild.” You say to Brandon and Andy.

“Next year they’re putting us on teams. You either still have two teachers or four.” Andy explains. “We wanna be on the four team.”

“Why’s that?” You ask.

“Because then you’re not stuck in the same two classrooms all day.” Brandon says. “It’ll make the day go by faster.”

“That’s what a kid on the basketball team told us, anyways.” Andy shrugs. “We heard the four team has nicer teachers too.”

“I just hope they don’t put one of us on the four team and the other on the two team, that would be the worst.” Brandon says.

“Is it by last name or anything?” Harry asks.

“We have no idea, when we asked our fifth grade teachers they didn’t really say there was much reason behind who gets what.” Andy says. “I’ll worry about it in August.”

“Yeah, I don’t even want to think about school right now.” Brandon says.

“Y/N, do you still do work over the summer like Dad does?” Andy asks.

“Yes, I’m still technically in school. So I do research like Dad, but mine is so I can become a doctor like him, he just does it to keep his name out there.” She nudges him playfully.

“Oi, my work is more than just for vanity, thank you very much.”

“I don’t know Dad, I think Y/N has a point. I’ve seen you do your research.” Andy grins.

“Oh, this I’d love to hear.”

“Dad watches really sad romance movies, cries, and then pauses the movie to take notes about how he’s feeling.”

“I do that to compare to the books that the films are based off of, and I see how I felt while reading the book versus watching the movie. I also make notes about the cinematography and mise en scene, because music-“

“Mr. Styles, you lost me at the cinnamon tography…” Brandon says and everyone laughs.

After lunch you get going again. You’re amazed that the boys don’t need a lot of breaks and don’t seem tired. They get excited when they see certain critters or flowers. As you get closer to the top, you notice it getting a little steeper. Harry had the biggest pack on, and you were fucking floored that he wasn’t huffing and puffing his way up. He was sweating for sure, but he was in no way struggling. Impressive, to say the least.

“Dad! I recognize this part, we’re almost there!” Andy exclaims.

“Yeah! Shouldn’t be long now!” He calls ahead. “How are your feet doing?” He asks you.

“Not too bad, I’m glad I changed my socks when we took our last break. I’m sure I’ll feel it tomorrow.”

“After we get to the top and everything we’ll make sure to stretch. Your legs will tighten up too much if we don’t.”

“Makes sense. Has Brandon gone hiking with you before?”

“Oh, sure, tons of times. Never overnight, though, so this will be nice for them.”

A few more paces, and a few sharp turns, and you’ve made it to the summit.

“Holy shit.” You say to yourself. Mountains and greenery as far as your eyes could see. No lake this time, but you didn’t care.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Harry says to you.

“It’s…incredible.” You were still in shock.

“Congrats, it’s your first 4,000 footer.” He puts his hand on your shoulder and gives it a squeeze before getting his pack off. You all get your packs off.

Dozens of pictures are taken. You take some of the boys with Harry, and Andy uses your phone to take one of you and Harry, and he even wants one of just you and him, it was sweet.

“So…where’s the campsite?”

“Oh, just down that way a bit. Figured we could hang out here while we stretch and stuff. Just chill and take it all in before we go to set up the tents.”

You all sit on the ground and stretch your legs. It felt good to just take some time to breathe slowly and let your legs relax. You all walk to where the campsite is and claim your territory.

“So over there are the bathrooms, and then that hut over there actually has a snack bar in it and a few forest rangers.”

“That’s so cool! Do you need help with the tents?”

“Have you ever set one up before?”

“Never.”

“Then you can watch. It’ll be easier if Andy and I just do it.”

You nod and take a step back with Brandon as Andy and Harry work to get the two tents situated. Andy and Brandon get their sleeping bags set up the way they like inside their tent and then they head off towards the bathroom.

“Alright.” You say after tossing some of your things inside yours and Harry’s tent. “I’m gonna go change.”

“Okay, I’m gonna get the firewood together. Gotta get cooking soon.”

“What are we having?”

“Regular hot dogs for the boys, vegan ones for us, that work?”

“You had a cooler in there?”

“And a cast iron pan. Ain’t my first rodeo, darling.” He says cheekily, but you blush anyways from him calling you darling. He had never called you that before.

You grab the things you need for the bathroom, and you’ve never been so thankful to see a clean, working toilet in your life. There were some other people around setting up their own campsites as well, it wasn’t just your group. You use a washcloth to freshen up and then put on some new leggings and a long sleeve shirt. You take your hair out of its hat and put some dry shampoo in before putting it all up in a messy bun. You sigh happily now that you feel a little cleaner.

The boys, and Harry, had changed into some comfier clothes as well. You notice that Harry is wearing his glasses once again. They were all sitting on different blankets around the fire Harry had just gotten started.

“How many would you like?” He asks you as he takes out the different types of hotdogs.

“Two would be great, thank you.” You say, sitting down near Andy.

“I also have some other veggies, I cut up some bell peppers.” Harry takes the baggy out of the cooler. “I figured beans wouldn’t be such a great idea.”

“Dad, can I have two hotdogs?”

“Same here.” Brandon chimes in.

“Of course, boys.”

Harry makes up the vegan hotdogs first, and then makes the boys. They all munch on the veggies and other snacks that Harry packed. He even made sure to bring Oreo’s, Andy’s favorite. Once the sun sets, and everyone bundles up a bit more, Harry breaks out the items to make s’mores.

“Brandon, do you think your dad will coach basketball again in the winter?” Harry asks him.

“Yeah, he said he should have the time. I like him better as a coach than the guy I had a couple of years ago that’s for sure.”

“I like the way your dad coaches, he’s not mean.” Andy says. “I had one guy one year that just yelled and drilled the whole time, it wasn’t any fun.”

“You’re just kids, why would anyone yell at you?” You ask, biting into your own s’more.

“Some of these people are just looking for excuse to be aggressive.” Harry sighs. “This was a much better year all around for everyone I’d say.”

A light hearted ghost story or two is told before the boys both call it a night, their long night before finally catching up with them. Harry makes sure all their trash is thrown away and secure, and he reminds them of the buddy system for if they need to wee in the middle of the night. He also gives them a flashlight so they’ll be able to see everything.

“I think they had the right idea.” You yawn after coming back again from the bathroom. “I’m pooped.”

“Same here. Go get settled, I’m gonna put the fire out.”

You nod and go into the larger tent Harry set up for the two of you. You roll out your sleeping bag, and use one of your spare sweatshirts as a pillow. You get settled in and sigh. It was sort of nice to be unplugged, away from screens and research. Harry eventually crawls in, and gets settled into his own sleeping bag. He sets a dim lantern on his side so he could read a bit.

“What are you reading?”

“The screenplay that was adapted to make The Notebook…” He mumbles.

“You’re working?”

“Sort of…I usually bring books like these camping. They’re easier to read.”

“Should I be offended that you were about ready to read instead of staying up to chat?” You smirk.

Harry’s eyes grow slightly. You wanted to have pillow talk before bed? Is that it?

“Um…well…I just figured you were tired, and I usually read to fall asleep-“

“Harry, relax, I was just teasing. You can read if you want.” You smile at him and turn over, nestling into your sleeping bag. “Night.” You say, looking over your shoulder at him quickly.

“Night.”

Part of you wanted to whine or complain that your makeshift pillow wasn’t comfortable so he’d offer to let you lay on his chest. Maybe he’d caress you and even read to you for a bit. Maybe you would have done that if his son wasn’t in the tent right next to you.

Harry couldn’t concentrate on his book. His eyes kept glancing over to your curled up body. You looked so soft and peaceful, and he just wanted to wrap his arms around you. He wanted to keep you safe and warm all night. And because Harry usually sleeps holding onto a pillow of some kind, he felt a little fucked. He sighs and turns the lantern off. He lays on his back for a while until his eyes eventually flutter closed. You both were exhausted from the hike.

//

You wake up feeling warm and cozy. You weren’t sure why you had woken up. It’s not like the sun was shining yet, the whole point was to get up and watch the sun rise. No, you woke up from feeling small puffs of air by your ear and a strong hold around your stomach. Harry must have rolled over in his sleep and started cuddling with you. You almost wish you were in a shared sleeping bag so you could get even cozier. It would be like one giant sleeping bag burrito. You feel his arm pull you closer into him, and his breathing changes.

You shift and turn on your back so you can look up at him, and he keeps his arm around your waist. You gaze at each other, and he moves his hand up to smooth some hair away from your face before letting it caress your cheek. You both look like you’re about to say something when-

“Dad, come on! The sun’s gonna be up soon!”

Andy startles Harry so badly, it’s like he wakes up all over again, like he didn’t realize what he was doing with you. He nearly jumps away from you and sits up.

“Okay, one second! Go get washed up.” He sighs, and then looks at you. “I-“

“Let’s get to it before they find a way to get in here and drag us out.”

“Yeah.”

Harry unzips the tent and you both use the bathroom before heading out with the boys to the summit again.

“Alright everyone.” Harry says, and he starts doing some simple yoga moves. The boys follow and so do you.

It was amazing to actually do sun salutations as the sun came up. After sitting and looking out a while longer you all head back to the campsite breakfast. You drink water instead of coffee in fear of really needing to use the bathroom later. You each have a granola bar, and then start to clean up the tents. You get changed in your attire for the day, as done everyone else, and you all start working your way down the mountain.

“What did you think of the sunrise, boys?” You ask.

“It was so cool! I can’t wait to show my parents the pictures I took.” Brandon says.

“Must be nice to have a phone that actually takes decent pictures.”

“I took plenty of pictures on mine, Andy.” Harry says. “You got two more years, I think you can wait.” He chuckles as Andy looks back to give him a pouty face.

“How’d you sleep, Y/N?” Brandon asks.

“Oh! Um…” You and Harry look at each other briefly and then blush. “Pretty good, slept the whole night through, I think. How about you two.”

“My mom gave me some melatonin, so I slept good.” Brandon shrugs.

“And I’m used to camping, so I was fine.” Andy says.

“Good, that’s really good.” You say and clear your throat.

You both knew you’d have to have a conversation about the way you woke up, but now obviously wasn’t going to be the time. Finally, after hours, you make it all the way back to the trailhead, and get everything into Harry’s car. It was an incredible couple of days, but you couldn’t wait to get home to take a proper shower. Hell, you may even take a bath just to relax your sore muscles. Harry drops Brandon off, and Andy helps him with his things. They hug goodbye; it’s awfully sweet.

“Dad, can I shower first? I feel gross…”

“Sure, just don’t take too long.”

“Okay! Thanks again for coming Y/N.”

“Thank you again for inviting me.” You smile as you all get out of Harry’s car. He waits for Andy to go inside before speaking up.

“I’m sorry about this morning, I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable…when I sleep I usually have a pillow or something and-“

“I wasn’t uncomfortable.” You say as you grab your things out of his trunk and put them into your own. “In fact, I can’t remember the last time I felt so comfortable.” You look at him and close your trunk.

“Oh.” His eyebrows raise and his cheeks grow slightly red. “Um.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I have him for the rest of this week until I send him off with Paige for July, so I wanna spend as much time with him as I can, but-“

“Call me when you’re free. I don’t mind waiting.”

Harry was chilled to his bones from your words. He watched you get into your car and drive off before going into his house. You said what you said because you had a feeling Harry had been waiting for you to get your act together a bit. You’ve known him for almost a year, and he’s been a great friend, but there’s something that’s been brewing between the two of you. Probably since the day you met.

//

“Is that everything?” Paige chuckles as Andy brings another bag into her house.

“I wanted to make sure I had options.” He grunts as he gets inside.

“He’s just like you, I swear.” She shakes her head at Harry.

“As if we needed more proof that he’s mine.”

“So…I heard the camping trip went well, what’s next for you and Y/N?”

“Not sure, I’m gonna give her a ring the second I’m on the road.”

“Did anything happen between you two in that tent?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“No.” He mumbles and kicks some dirt at his feet. “Not much I could do with two eleven-year-olds right next door.”

“Harry.” She laughs.

“We woke up…very close together, that was about it. Bottom line is we need to talk, and now I’ll have the time to do so.”

“You know you’re going to need to fill Andy in on everything when you have your chats on the phone.”

“Please, it’ll be the first thing he asks me instead of how are you…”

“Okay, that’s everything.” Andy says. “Love you.” He hugs Harry and Harry sighs as he wraps his arms around him.

“Love you too, call if you need anything, and be good, promise?”

“Promise.”

Harry waves as he gets into his car, and he calls you right away just like he said he would. The phone goes straight to voicemail, which makes him feel like he got kicked in the gut, especially because it rang twice first. Suddenly, a couple of texts come up on his screen.

You: hey!

You: sorry, I’m at the library getting some work done. I’ll call you later

Harry sighs, but he completely understands. Not too long ago it was him using every free moment he had to get his doctoral research done. He had his own work he should be doing, so he goes home and gets settled up in his office.

He was getting some incredible work done on his latest manuscript, the journal that publishes his works will definitely be pleased. He blinks and sees it’s already 8PM, and you never called, or texted. He hoped you were alright. He stands up and stretches, and decides to grab a quick shower. The house was quiet without Andy, and he didn’t like it. He flops down onto the couch in just a pair of boxers and turns the TV on. A ring on the doorbell startles him, and he gets up right away. He peers through the window to see you, holding a box of pizza and a bottle of wine. He cracks the door open so you could only see his face.

“Hey! Sorry for just dropping by. I got really busy earlier, and I thought this would be better than calling. Hungry?” You smile brightly at him.

“Yeah, that sounds great. I was actually feeling pretty-“

“Um, Har…”

He had opened the door more just out of instinct, revealing his mostly naked body.

“Shit, let me, uh, come in, I’ll go throw something on.” You giggle as he basically scurries to his bedroom to change. He comes back out in a t-shirt and joggers. “Thanks for bringing all this.”

“I planned to come by earlier, I know you dropped Andy off today…how are you doing?”

“I’m okay…work distracted me, but it’s hitting me now. It’s really quiet without him already…I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” You pop the box of pizza open. “Wanna get this bottle open?”

“Yeah.”

He grabs his wine opener, two glasses, and two plates. He gets the bottle open while you set the pizza out. He pours you both a glass and you sit down at the table.

“So, you got a lot done today?” He asks you.

“You have no idea! I was on fire.” Harry laughs at that.

He listens to you talk about what you got done. He couldn’t help but watch every movement your lips made, and how your eyes got brighter and brighter at how excited you were.

“Sorry, I’m going on and on about my thing, what did you get done today?” You say, sipping your wine.

“Worked on my manuscript for the journal.” He shrugs. “Nothing special.”

“Oh, don’t say that, you do incredible work. I love reading your articles. I actually think I used to read your work when I was still in grad school.” You start blushing. “It’s sort of cool knowing the person you’ve been able to learn so much from.”

“Just sort of cool, huh?” He scoffs playfully and you nudge him. “Wanna move outside, I put up a screen around the perimeter for bugs, or are you still hungry?”

“No, I’ve had plenty, but I’ll be bringing this bottle with us.” You grab the wine and you both head outside. “When did you even have time to do this?”

“Andy helped me. It wasn’t too difficult.”

You imagine Harry doing handy work, and it makes every part of your body flutter.

“I wish I had outdoor space like this, it’s my one complaint of my apartment, no balcony or anything.”

“Yeah, we didn’t like it much either, we didn’t stay there long.”

“We?”

“It’s where Paige and I lived when we first came here. I got my master’s from the university first, then my doctorate. Her grandparents lived in that big house, so they helped babysit Andy a lot.”

“Oh.” You didn’t have any problems with Paige, but she didn’t love being reminded that they were once together and in love.

“Were you sore after the hike or anything?” Quick to change the subject, maybe he felt the same way.

“Um, only for a day or so. I didn’t stretch as much as I should have when I got home. Thought the bath I took would have been good enough.”

“Would you ever do it again?”

“I would! I had more fun than I thought…but I’ll only go to the mountains that have working bathrooms.”

“Deal.” He smiles and takes a sip of his wine. “Maybe we could do something like that later this month.”

“With or without Andy?” You raise a playful eyebrow at him.

“I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t mind an adults only trip.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.” He finishes off his glass and pours another. “Refill?”

“Please.” You hold your glass out for him and he pours some more. You take a sip and lick your lips. “And why exactly would you like it to be adults only?”

“Perhaps…I wouldn’t have minded not being interrupted that morning.”

“Andy really startled you, huh?”

“I almost forgot he was there…” He plucks at his bottom lip. “It was…an interesting how we woke up.”

“Very interesting.” You sip your drink. “I was sort of…hoping you were going to cuddle me or something.”

“You were?!” His eyes widen.

“Yeah, it was sort of cold, even in sweats and a sleeping bag. I felt so cozy when I woke up.”

“You didn’t even flinch when you looked up at me…”

“Why would I have?”

“I don’t know…sort of weird to wake up in a friend’s arms, isn’t it?”

“Not so weird when that friend is you.” You look at him. “You back peddled when you tried to explain why. It’s okay if you wanted to hold onto me.”

“I literally sleep with a body pillow, you can check my room.” He defends. “I’ve always been like that.” He mumbles.

“So it wasn’t about me?”

“No…I…I wanted to cuddle you.” He wanted to do more, but again…his son was there.

“Well…I’m glad you did. It’s nice being the little spoon once in a while, and your cologne always smells so good, no complaints here.”

“You…you like my cologne?”

“Love it, actually.” You finish off your glass and you grab the bottle to pour just a little more in. “It’s nice when the person you have to see every day at work smells good.”

“Let’s see….” He holds his hand up to count on his fingers. “You like my work, you’re happy I cuddled you, and you enjoy my cologne.” He looks at you. “What should I be thinking of all this?”

“I…” You swirl your drink around. “Do you remember when I had that really awkward dream about you a while back?”

“Yes.”

“That was a complete accident, a freaky thing that happened that I didn’t want to have happen.”

“Is this one of those compliment sandwiches?”

“No, I’m…please…” You look at him. “The last time I went to Boston, as you know, I hooked up with someone.”

“Yeah.” He rolls his eyes.

“But…I was having trouble getting there…and…well…” You look away from him. “You popped in and I was happy about it. I…thought of you…and…”

“And were you able to get there, Y/N?”

“Yes.” You say just above a whisper. “I wanted it to be you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to date colleagues?”

“I don’t, but…” You look at him again. “I think I like you too much to care about that anymore.”

“God, I…” He gets up and kneels in front of you, taking one of your hands. “I like you so much, you have no idea.”

“Well, I have a small idea…woke up with you pressed against me.” You smirk.

“No way you felt anything between two sleeping bags and all the layers of clothes.”

“Little bit.”

“Christ.” He groans.

“Again, not complaining, it’s flattering, actually.”

“So when you let that guy leave that mark on the back of your shoulder, were you hoping it was me who did that too?” He stands up now.

“You saw that?” You gasp as you look up at him.

“I did…when you were running around your place getting everything together.” He pulls you to stand up, and he tucks some of your hair behind your ear. “You were wearing a pretty flimsy tank top.”

“I don’t exactly get dolled up when I’m home all day working.”

“I guess we have that in common.” He pushes his glasses to the top of his head, and cups your jaw with one hand, and hooks his other arm around your waist to pull you closer.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes.”

Your eyes flutter closed as he leans in, and you tug at his shirt as his lips meet yours. It’s soft at first, he’s just getting a feel for you, and then it turns needy. His hand slides to the back of your head, tugging softly at your hair to crane your head up more. You gasp at this, and he takes the openness as an invitation to nip at your bottom lip. You moan softly, and your tongue peeks out to meet his. They mold together like they were supposed to all along. Suddenly, he takes a step back.

“Wh…what’s wrong?” You wipe the small trail of spit from your mouth that he left behind.

“Nothing, I just…I told myself I wouldn’t do this while we were drinking. There have been a lot of times I’ve wanted to kiss you, but I haven’t because we were drunk or something.”

“I’m not drunk, are you?”

“I’m a little tipsy, yeah.”

“I, okay, yeah, so am I.” You chuckle

“So, I think we should stop for now. I wanna do this right. I wanna take you on a proper date.”

“I’d like that.” You smile, and then chew on your bottom lip. “It’s the right thing to do anyways, we shouldn’t jump into this too quickly. I have some different trips planned this summer, and I’m going to be busy working on things, getting my classes together…not exactly a whirlwind summer romance we’re looking at.”

“I have a conference in New York later this summer, so I’ll be busy as well getting my lecture ready.”

“Wait…I have a conference to go to in New York later this month too!”

“Really? Is it the CMT?”

“Yeah! I went last summer too and had such a good time. I had no idea you were giving a lecture, the itinerary doesn’t come out until next week.”

“I’m presenting some research about my wellness course…I’ve been collecting some data over the last three years I’ve been teaching it.”

“Ah, so you’re not going to be discussing the complexities of Pride and Prejudice?” You smirk at him.

“Nope, saving that for a rainy day.” He smirks back.

“Wow, well…that’s sort of exciting…we’ll be going to the same place for a few days.”

“We could, um, drive together if you wanted.”

“I was just going to take the bus…”

“I get free parking at the hotel since I’m part of the conference.”

“It’s a four hour drive…that’s a long time for you to be stuck with me.”

“Was stuck with you overnight not too long ago, and I didn’t mind it one bit.” He puts his hand on your shoulders. “Are you staying at the hotel where the conference will be?”

“Yes.”

“Great.” He smiles. “It’s, um, it’s a date then.”

“Yeah.” You smile at him. “Although…might be nice to go out before then…make sure we still like each other, and all that.” You joke.

“Yeah, I could easily not be into you in just a couple of weeks.” He jokes back and you can’t help but laugh.

“Let’s go inside, I need some water before I go home.”

“Good idea.”

He leads you in, and after a two glasses of water, and giving you a mock-sobriety test, he lets go. Well, not before giving you another steamy kiss by your car after you promised to text him when you got home. It was just as needy as the first kiss. He didn’t press his body up against yours, but from the way he was sucking on your bottom lip, you could tell he wanted you desperately. But like the responsible adults you were, you ended it there, and called it a night. A very good night.

#office neighbors #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles series #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angsy #professor!harry x professor!y/n #professor!harry #dad!harry #singledad!harry

[thestrangeprophet-blog]

The Muse and the Soldier

The Muse and the Soldier

·       f/reader x Levi Ackerman  

·       No NSFW

·       HC storyline

·       I do not own the rights to any of the characters

·       PLS support the actual Attack on Titan anime

 You open your eyes and take pleasure in the feel of the morning breeze coming from the window. Breathing in the air which carried the aroma of those special blue flowers potted downstairs in front of your tea shop. Seems you have left all your pencils across the desk and the drawings plastered to the walls from the night before had fallen again. You pick up the drawings and admire the one yet to be finished. It is of a regular customer you normally see when they come back from a scouting mission. Piercing grey eyes in contrast to his fancy dark undercut. Levi Ackerman. You always wonder how he has the time and will to keep up with his hair. After laying his portrait neatly on your desk, you ready yourself for another day brewing the finest tea you can in hopes of seeing Levi for another bout of his favorite tea.

The Captain and Commander Erwin were frequent visitors to your tea shop because Levi had always recommended it. For one reason or another, the tea you brewed satisfied him beyond what he would brew himself with what he had. Erwin had thought the same as well and it brought you enjoy your tea could be held to such standards. As a fellow tea lover, the subject of tea was never a boring conversation with Levi, no matter how short or blunt it was with him. Sure, most people see it as something more along the lines of hot leaf juice. It’s more than that and Levi understood it though it went unspoken.

Captain Levi came alone today and took his usual seat. It was rather unusual but you carry on and bring his favorite. The teapot whistles and steams like Titan smoke with the lingering scent of black tea that trails through the wind. As you set his cup in front of him and pour his tea, you notice he seems lost further in thought than normal. You finish pouring his tea and hesitantly ask if there is anything else you can do for him. He takes a second to come back to this moment and raises his head ever so slightly. His hair still covering those captivating grey eyes. Releasing an exhausted breath, he asks of one thing of you.

Levi: I- If it’s no trouble to you… will you sit with me Y/N? Even just for a moment?

Y/N: That’s a bit of an odd request, Captain. I’m surprised you even remembered my name. But sure! Anything for my best customer.

Levi: You don’t have to address me as Captain. J-just Levi will do… and thank you.

You sit in the chair across from Levi where Erwin is normally seated discussing the next expedition and plans you have for Eren and the cadets of the 104th Cadet Corps. As of in this moment, this is simply two human beings sitting together enjoying tea. Just sounds of the breeze against your ears and the softened sips coming from across the table at the lips of the man before you. Levi’s cheeks are flushed with a gorgeous rosy blush. It seems he wants to start a conversation but has no idea where to start. Its adorable how a man with a reputation for being such stone cold badass could be flustered over tea. You strike a smile in his direction and find your own way to start a conversation he could initiate. Call it encouragement if you will. The sketchpad and pencil you keep handy finally get put to use. The pencil scratching against the paper caught Levi’s attention though he kept to his tea. He watched as he appeared on the paper before him in awe.

           Levi: Hey Y/N, is that supposed to be me?

Y/N: Oh, uh yeah haha! I figured you weren’t much in the mood to talk so I didn’t want to bother you while you were enjoying your tea.

Levi: You are a woman of many talents I see.

Y/N: I wouldn’t say that much.

Levi: N-nonsense. I come here to enjoy the tea you brew perfectly and the singing you think I can’t hear. Didn’t know you were so skilled with a pencil as well.

Y/N: I usually never have the time to draw during the day Levi.

Levi: Can I request something? I’ll pay for it.

Y/N: No need to pay me. What can I do for you?

Levi: I need you to draw someone for me. I don’t really know them too well, but they have a face I could never forget.

Y/N: Oh I wonder who this special person is! Could you describe them for me?

Levi: Well, they’re around the same height as me maybe a bit taller. They have long black curly hair that glistened as though it was a fire at sunset. Brown eyes like fresh honey in the morning and glistened with a hopeful shine I envy. They wear some rather dark clothing year round even when its hot outside. Their nose is slightly hooked and cheeks soft and red. Their lips glistened and they look soft to the touch. And even though they don’t think it looks very nice, they have a scar across their left eyebrow. I’m not exactly sure how they got, but they always try to cover it behind their hair yet it still finds a way to see the light. Their jawline is soft and looks like it could rest perfectly in the cups of your hands.

Y/N: Wow Levi, I didn’t realize you had a way with words.

As the form you forge is refined from guidelines to distinctive features, the person he is describing truly is a sight to behold. You may not have the colors to use but you understand the value of what those colors are which are just as powerful. Levi sits across from you amazed at your skill for a second time until you’ve finished your work. You hand him the final sketch and you already know he just asked you to draw yourself but play it off. He takes the drawing into his hand and holds it up so you and the drawing are in view with each other.

Levi: As beautiful on paper as you are in person. Tsk, your hands are even a work of art on their own.

Y/N: If I may say I’m rather flattered you’d ask me to draw myself just for you but you aren’t very good at making your flirtations subtle. Unless you weren’t trying to be subtle in the first place.

Levi: Oi its not my fault you decided to pull a journal out of nowhere while we’re drinking tea together!

Y/N: You are one hundred percent correct Levi. Really for a man who exudes such confidence, I’ve never seen you even stutter let alone get flustered over tea. Its cute.

Levi blushes even more and looks away trying to play it off. He already knows you’ve got at least one finger wrapped around him. No one really talks to him like that besides this Hange person he mentions. They sound like an interesting character from the way he describes them. You would love to meet them one day when they aren’t experimenting on Titans. For now, your gaze remains fixed on Levi’s profile as he tries to regain his composure. You would not have assumed he was even interested in such trivial things other than being a clean freak.

You are aware of Levi’s reputation but just getting to sit with him in such an intimate setting gives you a next level view of him. The clean undercut and soft flowing hair was just asking to have someone’s fingers run through it and embrace the feeling of each strand even if it meant making his hair just a little messy. Each group of strands followed the path of the wind as leaves blew from the vines. His jawline was as sharp as the blades he carried to cut down titans like butter. His hands, though they bore the weight his fallen comrades and the destined purpose to eliminate and survive, seemed delicate under the rough calluses of combat. But his eyes. Those damn grey eyes. They pierced right through me whenever you got the chance to see them yourself. All of the things they saw, and the feelings kept behind them like a locked door. There is so much pain rage behind those you wonder when the last time Levi got to see something outside the realm of horror outside and within the walls.

           Y/N: Levi?

           Levi: Yeah Y/N?

Y/N: When was the last time you’ve ever had a chance to relax and just lay low for awhile?

Levi: Can’t say. I don’t think I’ve given myself a damn break but I can’t afford to. I don’t exactly have anything else to do.

Y/N: Hmmm. Let’s change that. Make sure you make yourself available tomorrow at sundown. Come back to the shop and dress casual. I know somewhere we can go. I’ll even grab an extra book so you can out those hands to work other than killing Titans and jotting down whatever it is you do write for your paperwork.

Levi: B-but I c-can’t just abandon my po-

Y/N: Shush. In case you haven’t noticed you don’t have any missions scheduled for at least another week. Plus business around here is slow. We could both use a little time for ourselves. Even if its just a moment.

Levi: *blushing even more* uh- ok. I guess it wouldn’t hurt. You didn’t have to act like such a brat about it.

Y/N: If you weren’t Levi I would throw this lukewarm teapot of tea all over you

Levi: *Smiling ever so slightly* hmp I uh… I guess I could see you doing something like that. Okay, I’ll be back tomorrow to pick you up. I’m curious as to where this place is anyway.

Y/N: Alrighty then it’s a date! No ifs ands or buts. You got that Levi?

Levi: Loud and clear.

You’re leaning over the table to make sure Levi knows where he needs to be. You’re close enough to him you can smell the scent of the tea you made him mixed with just the scent of him. You’d kiss him right then and there if you really wanted to. Looks like he had the same idea but you pull away because you weren’t in that much of a rush. His lips were parted as they awaited your lips to meet his. It was thrilling seeing him even a little desperate for you but making him wait was even better. As much as Levi felt he couldn’t abandon his post, he couldn’t say no to you. He’d been working up the courage to talk to you for as long as he has been coming to your shop. Though he wasn’t the one to ask, Levi appreciated that you were the one to take the lead in making plans to accompany each other on a date. You’d been waiting for the opportunity to even be in this position. Now that it’s here, you make plans to make the date an enjoyable one that Levi would also like. Good first impressions are still pretty important. Especially if you want to make a good impression for Levi.

           Levi: Tsk, its almost sundown. Id better get back to the brats at HQ.

You grab his hands and ask him to wait just a little while longer.

Y/N:  Well if you’re going to be leaving, at least let me give you some extra tea and a meal to take back with you. It’s the least I can do for agreeing to going on a date with me on such short notice.

Levi: Tsk make it quick please.

Y/N: Don’t rush me. I’m being nice to you. I usually don’t just give out free tea and meals to anyone you know.

Levi: I’m sorry. Thank you. I- I uh really appreciate your generosity.

You hand Levi the tea and meal you made just for him. You touch hands for a moment and get goosebumps for the first time in a long time. You blush just enough that Levi notices as well and gives a small smirk. You exchange that smirk with one of your own.

           Levi: Thank you again Y/N. I guess I’ll see you soon.

           Y/N: You guess?

           Levi: I will see you soon.

Y/N: Much better. And by the way, you have a very charming smile. I wish I could see it more often. It suits you almost as much as that cold gaze you’ve always got equipped.

Levi: I never really gave it much thought what that looked like. I’ll pick you tomorrow. I promise.

Y/N: You’d better if you know what’s good for ya hahaha! I’ll see you tomorrow, Captain.

END

Comment if you’d like a Pt. 2!

#levi ackerman x reader #aot #aot headcanons #attack on titan #levi #aot x y/n #levi headcanons #levi fluff #aot imagines #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #levi hc #levi ackerman headcanons #levi fanfiction

[fanficflaneuse]

All Of You

Index 

A/N: After a couple of odd weeks, I’m back and I’m really happy to be posting again. Dear freaking god. I’m excited for you to read my first Theo fic ever. I’m really happy for it. 

Also, I saw a mutual celebrating their 100 followers and I realized I never did anything to celebrate my followers. I never expected my blog to have followers lol but now I have 196 and I want to dedicate this fic I love to all of you. Thank you all for bearing with me <3 

Without further ado, let’s do this! 

Theo Nott x reader 

Words: 2679 

Summary: Friends with benefits gone wrong. 

Warnings: mentions of sex (not smut, but still). 

The room exuded fire whiskey and regret as (Y/N) picked her clothes from the floor. The light that filtered through the closed curtains hinted a very sunny day, perfect for the throbbing headache coming her way. Her head pounded with flashbacks from the night before and every time she remembered another detail of the colossal mistake she had committed, she cursed herself.

She slumped on an elegant armchair and considered her options. She could leave unceremoniously and forget all about their encounter, pretend it was a drunken mistake. For a moment, she wished they would’ve had enough alcohol the night before to call this a “drunken mistake”. But they were both more sober than expected as they reached his room, lips connected and hands eager to explore each other.

(Y/N) cursed at herself once again as her gaze found the man on the bed. Theodore Nott looked peaceful as he slept, no trace of sadness clouding his angelic features. His chest raised and fell softly, an arm thrown over his forehead and the other one reaching out to the empty space in bed where she had woken up. Only Merlin knows how long she had fantasized about him, how many times she had wished to kiss his lips and feel him close. She could’ve been happy with everything that had happened the night before, if only that one memory didn’t keep replaying in her head:

Theo was sitting on the edge of his bed, she was on his lap. His lips made their way from her left shoulder to her ear.

“(Y/N),” he had whispered.

“Hmm?”

He cleared his throat. “Whatever is about to happen right now…I-I really can’t do feelings.”

(Y/N) remembered asking herself what could she possibly do with that information. He was the guy she had been ogling at practically since day one at Hogwarts. Not even of four years of not seeing each other had killed whatever they had going on between them. But before she could even think, she sealed the deal.

“No feelings.”

The words slipped from her mouth like a hot knife through butter. If only they were half as easy to digest. She sighed and stood up, determined to leave before Theo woke up.

“Where are you going?” His voice was groggy and almost childlike. It melted (Y/N)’s heart and she turned around in shame.  

Theo and (Y/N) found each other at a bar the night before. It was the first time they met since Sixth year, when they were potions partners and tried desperately to brush each other’s hand as many times as possible. (Y/N) remembered how he’d blush every time they touched, how that blush gave her butterflies as she thought of him as delightfully awkward.

Then the war bulldozed into their lives. Theo dropped out of Hogwarts and stayed in his mansion, not wanting to partake in any of it. His father was a death eater, everyone knew that. And even if he didn’t fight the good fight, (Y/N) was relieved not to see him cross to the dark side like Draco did. She, on the other hand, stayed in the school and opposed Voldemort. They never saw each other again.

Three years later, (Y/N)’s need to escape a terribly dull blind date and Theo’s desire to drown his loneliness with music and fire whiskey had them sitting side by side again. (Y/N) and Theo could probably count the amount of times they had spoken to each other with one hand. And yet, she remembered him as her first Hogwarts friend and he thought of her as a very close one. There was always this energy surrounding them. It made (Y/N)’s head spin and Theo’s convoluted mind turn to putty.  

The kisses in the back of the bar didn’t come as a surprise to either of them. Neither did the question that lead them to his house. And the heavy petting, the intense make out, the fire whiskey consumed after the promise, the lips and hands lingering and traveling…they were all the natural course of something with no name or description that had started the first time they set foot on the Hogwarts express.

...

First years buzzed through the train in excitement. They talked over each other, got high on candy and agitation and walked from one compartment to the next in search of new people to befriend. The general enthusiasm of the first train ride infected even the most knowledgeable purebloods. All but one of them. A lonely first year by the name of Theodore Nott, too shy and self-conscious to engage with the other children, kept to himself in a carriage. He stared out the window, trying to mute the muffled laughter by taking in the scenery.

“Can I seat here? Every other compartment is full.”

Theo’s head snapped as he heard those words. They stared at each other for a minute. The newcomer, a girl who just a few minutes ago had echoed other kids’ laughter, found Theo striking. She liked the single brown curl falling on his forehead and his greenish-blue eyes that seemed to enclose too much sadness for eleven years of age. He looked like a melancholic cherub.

Too curious for her own good, (Y/N) wanted to know absolutely everything about this enigmatic boy that didn’t seem unfazed by the perspective of travelling to a magical school.

He nodded eagerly, prompting more curls to cover his face. She giggled softly as she made her way to the seat in front of him. Theo found her very pretty. He was suddenly very aware of how lame he must’ve seemed. Theo gulped, racking his brain for something to say and finding absolutely nothing. He hadn’t interacted with many kids his age and, to his absolute mortification, it showed.

“I am (Y/N). What is your name?” she asked sweetly.

“Theo,” he muttered so softly she couldn’t quite catch it.

They spent the rest of the train ride in silence. (Y/N) was a bit appalled. She thought about leaving in search of some more boisterous company to share her thrill with. She couldn’t, though. The stillness that engulfed them was enticing. It was certainly awkward, but also comfortable and even safe. It was as though they had built a sense of complicity in a matter of minutes. They sneaked glances at each other until the Hogwarts express reached its destination.

Only during the sorting did (Y/N) recognize her companion as Theodore Nott, a Slytherin and her first Hogwarts friend.

If someone had ever told her that years later she’d be wearing his button-down and nothing else as they giggled on his bed, she probably wouldn’t have understood what they meant. But here she was. A few months into their affair they had fallen into an easy routine. There were no rules and no particular agreements, but they both knew what they were and how people labelled what they had.

Friends with benefits weren’t meant to cuddle with each other after sex. They weren’t meant to be so tender and spend hours talking nonsense and caressing each other. They weren’t meant to have each other for dinner at least once a week or be seen together. And, more importantly, they weren’t meant to fall for each other.

(Y/N) wondered how long this would last as they laid on their sides, staring at each other. Not a sound came from their lips. He was giving her a sweet lopsided grin. The stillness that engulfed them was, once again, enticing. It was not awkward, but still felt comfortable and safe. They are accomplices now. 

...

The Yule Ball was the most awaited event of fourth year. It was the night everyone would talk about for ages. (Y/N) arrived late and left early, as one does. She didn’t particularly enjoy the petty drama her friends were involved in, so she decided to leave the Great Hall in favour of some fresh air.

As she stepped on the courtyard, she expected anything but finding Theo Nott sitting on a bench. She approached without giving it much thought.

“Mind if I sit with you? Every other place is already taken,” she said humorously.

Theo smiled and made space for her. They sat in silence for a while, the complicity from the train somehow still intact. After a while of silence, he gathered all his courage and stood up. (Y/N) had a view of his very expensive looking suit, his hair with its usual curl covering his forehead, his eyes shining dangerously with something else than the usual melancholy.

“Would you dance with me, (Y/N)?” he asked, his voice showing a confidence he didn’t know he had.

(Y/N) was surprised he even knew her name. She stood up as well, flattered and also a bit embarrassed. “Shall we go back inside?”

He shook his head, the impish grin matching that glint in his eyes. “I never said anything about going back inside.”

(Y/N)’s knees buckled as he pulled her to his chest. They danced in the courtyard to the muffled sounds that came from the Great Hall. (Y/N) prided herself in being a decent dancer, but Theo was something else. He twirled her, guided her and taught her with great care. Mesmerized, she held onto him until there was no more music left and he insisted on walking her to her common room.

They walked side by side, his fingers barely touching the small of her back. They were, once again, enveloped in peaceful quietness, only interrupted by the clacking of her heels.

“Where did you learn to dance the mazurka?” she wondered aloud.

(Y/N) noticed how he puffed his chest. She could hear the smile in his voice when he said that his mum had taught him.

“She must be quite the dancer,” (Y/N) complemented, only to see the smile fading immediately.

“She was,” he whispered very softly, eyes fixed in some distant point in the horizon.

(Y/N) wanted to say something else, but nothing seemed appropriate. As they reached the common room, kissed the back of her hand before leaving to his dorm.

“What are you thinking about?” Theo murmured in her ear. She was sitting between his legs, her white sheets pooling around them. Before she could answer, he gently brushed her hair off her shoulder and placed kisses on the sensitive spot behind her ear.

She bit her lip to restrain a moan. This man had learned how to get a reaction from her. He now knew how to get her all worked up in a matter of seconds. She was not complaining one bit.

“I’m just remembering the Yule Ball,” she offered offhandedly.

He hummed pleasantly in response. “You know? Everyone made a fuss about how Hermione Granger looked like a princess that night. But you, darling, you looked like a queen.”

His voice sent shivers down her spine. She cursed every deity in the book because damn, Theodore Nott could be suave if he wanted to. (Y/N) smiled contently as he pulled her back to bed.

...

“So, Theodore,” said Pansy with mocking seriousness. He knew what was coming and was prepared to shrug it off. “When will you introduce us to your girlfriend?”

Blaise chuckled and Draco raised his eyebrows playfully. Theo wanted to roll his eyes playfully, but knew he would never pull it off, especially not after the last few months with (Y/N). He nervously scratched the back of his neck.

“She…she’s not my girlfriend,” he stammered.

“Oh! But there’s a she,” Blaise pointed out.

Theo looked away, wanting to facepalm himself hard. He hadn’t realized they were that obvious. But they were. And for some reason he didn’t care one bit. He just didn’t know how to be a boyfriend and didn’t want to hurt her (or himself…even further).

“What is it then? Are you just shagging?” Daphne said the word as though it burned her mouth.

“You know Daph, friends with benefits. All the advantages and none of the drama,” said Pansy as she put an arm around the blonde, “we should’ve tried that instead.”

Daphne rolled her eyes. “As if you didn’t love to be my girlfriend, Pansy Marguerite Parkinson.”

Pansy smiled widely and kissed her girlfriend. Draco pretended to gag.

“Keep pretending that you’re not the biggest sap on the planet, Draco Lucius Malfoy,” teased Blaise.

Theo would’ve laughed at his friends’ antics, if only (Y/N) hadn’t come in to the bar. She was wearing that green dress she knew he adored. Her hair was up and she was wearing more make up than usual. She looked absolutely stunning.

As she took a seat at a nearby table, Theo remembered all those times he sneaked glances at her during their days at Hogwarts. She’d seat across the room, surrounded by people and laughing. And he’d admire her from afar, never daring to talk to her and only dedicating her soft smiles whenever they met in the hallways.

His friends seemed to realize the reason for his abstraction and they all eyed her curiously. (Y/N) suddenly stood up to greet somebody. Theo was taken aback when she hugged one of the Weasley twins, who took her in way too eagerly for his liking and kissed her cheek way too close to her lips. Theo had never considered himself a jealous person. Hell, he seldom showed emotions. But this he absolutely hated and didn’t bother do hide it.

The group of former Slytherins stared in awe as their friend slammed his fist on the table. He muttered a quick “sorry” and left the bar without saying goodbye.

...

“What do you mean you can’t do this anymore?” he asked, not even bothering to hide the surprise and hurt from his voice or demeanour. Theo noticed how she had kept a safe distance between them, preferring to seat on an armchair rather than the by his side on the couch.

“Theo…” she tried to reason.

(Y/N) broke the most basic rule of a situation like theirs. She had completely fallen for him. She knew she was into him since the very first time she had woken up in his bed, but for a while she at least pretended she could enjoy it without getting hurt. Then, the casual hook ups turned into cuddle sessions and those turned into dates. Still, her stubbornness made her continue with the affair. She convinced herself she could live with it.

That was until Theo opened his heart to her. He realized he had found someone he could truly be vulnerable with and he let her into his heart. He told her about his childhood, about how he had seen his father assassinate his mother and the sadness that had never abandoned him afterwards. He told her he was never afraid of dementors because he felt he was always walking with one over his shoulder. They had cried together that night and she decided her heart couldn’t take it anymore.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked in defeat. He mentally kicked himself for being too much and not enough.

“Of course not. It’s not that Theo,” she mended quickly.

“Then what?”

(Y/N)  took a deep breath. “I miss you when I wake up alone. I love cuddling and coddling you. I want you. All of you, Theo. I don’t just want to be your occasional hook up. I can’t do that anymore.”

She wrapped her arms around herself. Theo studied her for a minute, his intense gaze making her self-conscious.

“Don’t you realize I gravitate towards your company like you’re the only other person in the planet, (Y/N)?” he asked, suddenly feeling very dramatic.  

She was frozen in her place. His face softened completely and lunged forward, kneeling in front of her and taking her face in his hands.

“Love,” he whispered, “this stopped being an occasional hook up a long time ago.”

She smiled at him sweetly. “Really?”

He nodded, his messy curls falling to his forehead just like he knew she liked it. “And…and I also want you. All of you,” he said triumphantly.

tags: @honeymarvel @rvnsclws @naomi02hook @the-hufflefluffwriter

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x oc #theodore nott one shot #theodore nott fanfiction #theo nott #theo nott x you #theo nott x oc #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theodore nott x female reader #theo nott x female reader #post war harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #theo nott imagines #theodore nott imagines #draco malfoy #daphne greengrass #Pansy parkinson #blaise zabini #Weasley twins

[rmtndew]

All I’ve Ever Known

Summary: Fiona’s life is a shattered fraction of what it used to be. She’s trying to navigate her new normal when she meets Detective Marshall, who gives her something more to look forward to.

Pairing: Marshall and OFC.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of death, cancer.

A/N - This was intended as a short drabble but it got out of hand and became a multi-chapter story instead. It’s my first Marshall fic and the first fan fic that I’ve written in over a decade. The title comes from the song ‘All I’ve Ever Known’ from Hadestown: ‘I was alone so long, I didn’t even know that I was lonely. Out in the cold so long, I didn’t even know that I was cold. Turned my collar to the wind, this is how it’s always been. All I’ve ever known is how to hold my own, but now I want to hold you, too.’

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

The first Wednesday in October was the first day that truly felt like fall had arrived. There was a chill in the air that morning and the fallen leaves had taken on a lovely earthy smell after the rain from the night before had blown them off the trees and pummeled them to the ground. I made a mental note to ask one of the neighbor boys to clean the leaves off the driveway and stone path through the yard so Mom didn’t accidentally slip on them. She’d been so cooped up that summer, I didn’t want anything to be in her way of finally getting to enjoy the weather.

The drive to work was quiet and lovely. The sun warmed my car and when I reached the catering shop where I worked, I sat there for a few minutes, drinking my coffee and soaking up the feeling on my skin. I always got to work early so that I could have those few peaceful moments before the chaos of the day started.

Once inside the shop, I started working with my boss Darcy on filling the boxes for the day's orders. We had two major deliveries that day - a work conference at a hotel, and a training seminar being held in the public library late that afternoon. Other than that, we had our standing order for the homicide unit of the police department. At the beginning of the year, a man had been murdered and according to the news that covered it, there was next to no evidence and the case was sure to go cold. But a couple of the detectives wouldn’t let go and against the odds, they found the murderer and got a full confession out of him. The victim’s wife had been so grateful that she decided to have an ongoing order every Wednesday to buy lunch for the detectives who’d solved the murder, as well as their colleagues. She had received quite a bit of money after her husband’s death and decided to use some of it to pay them back in a small way. That order was always mine. It was fairly small and I could carry it in my car. The detectives were always polite but never tried to make small talk, which I enjoyed. The chatty orders went to Darcy’s nephew Nick, who could hold a conversation with a brick wall and enjoy it. 

Once the boxes for the detectives were filled and loaded into my car, I drove down to the station. I took the dolly from my trunk and strapped down the two insulated containers that had the boxed lunches packed in them. The wind whipped around me as I worked, blowing my hair in my eyes. I pushed it away and held it back with my free hand as I wheeled the food behind me. When I got into the building, an officer went through the containers, as always, to make sure I wasn’t bringing in any weapons, or whatever. The first few times he checked them, I was nervous that he’d find something, knowing full well that there was absolutely nothing illegal in them. Then, once I got to know him a bit, I had considered bringing him a cookie from the shop since I saw him every week, but then the irrational fear that he would think I was trying to bribe him to overlook the non-existent illegal materials I wasn’t trying to smuggle in took over. So, like with everything else in my life, I pushed away any urge, no matter how small, to socially interact with anyone longer than absolutely necessary. That’s why, after delivering there for several weeks, I knew he was Officer Bates (he wore a badge) and I was just ‘Waverly’, as in Waverly Box Catering, my company's name. 

Once Officer Bates checked to make sure everything in my containers was safe, he walked me to the elevator and hit the button for me. Thankfully the elevator was empty so that I wasn’t forced to make small talk with the officers or detectives outside of the homicide unit that always questioned why none of the other units got free lunches. The first few times I’d been asked it was awkward, all the other times after those were both awkward and annoying. 

When I reached the homicide unit floor, I made my way to their break room, where some of the detectives were waiting for me. I started unpacking the boxed lunches, placing them on the table, making sure that the names were clearly visible. As I placed the empty insulated containers back on my dolly, my phone rang. Normally I didn’t take calls on the job, but it was from Mom’s doctor’s office. 

I left the break room and found a quiet hall to answer the phone. It was a nurse called Karen confirming Mom’s appointment the following week. We’d made sure to write it on the calendar to remember it, but I thanked her for the reminder anyway and told her that we’d see her next Wednesday. After hanging up, I went back to the break room to collect my equipment. I was surprised to find that every single box had been claimed but one. I glanced at the name: Detective Marshall. Normally I didn’t keep track of who ordered what after the boxes had been filled and labeled, but I knew Detective Marshall’s order by heart. While every other detective switched their orders up, trying different things on the menu, Detective Marshall’s had remained the same every week. A cuban sandwich - whole, plain chips, and a peanut butter cookie. There were times when I’d be doing mindless tasks - washing the dishes, brushing my teeth, filling Mom’s pill box - when their order would randomly play through my mind, like some strange mantra. It was an odd thing to find calming but it reminded me of one of the exercises my therapist had me do as a teenager when my anxiety attacks would get bad. She had me multiply numbers, or mentally list every detail of my bedroom that I could think of, or recite the alphabet backwards. It was simple, mundane, ground exercises and without ever knowing me, Detective Marshall had become my adult version. 

I was about to leave when a uniformed officer came in. He went to the coffee pot but kept eyeing the box. It was nothing to me, really, if he took it. Detective Marshall could probably handle themselves against a lunch thief, but my gut wouldn’t let me let it go. So instead of leaving, I decided to take the box and hand deliver it.

I left my dolly behind and made my way back down the hall where I’d taken my call earlier. I’d noticed several detectives had private offices there and assumed their office would be there, too. I was right. I found Lieutenant Detective Marshall’s name engraved in a gold name plate mounted on a closed door. I took a deep breath before giving a hard and loud but short knock. 

“Yeah,” a man’s voice called out. 

He didn’t say anything else but I took it as an invitation to open the door. When I did, I was met with my first sight of Detective Marshall: A tall man with a short beard and a head of messy brown curls. He was wearing a forest green sweater, the sleeves pushed up to show his forearms. A gun and badge were clipped to the side of his jeans that hugged his muscular thighs. He was holding a folder, looking at it intently. After a moment, he looked up at me. He must have expected it to be someone he worked with because his expression went from neutral to confused in less than a second. He tilted his head, a crease appearing between his eyes - his beautiful blue eyes - as his brow furrowed. 

“Can I help you?”  

“I, um���” I swallowed hard. “I’m from Waverly Catering. I brought you your lunch,” I said, frozen on the spot at the entrance to his office. 

He looked more confused. “Don’t you usually leave them in the break room?” he asked. He sounded like he had a British accent.  

“Yes. And I did. But you didn’t come to get it. I was about to leave and it was the only one left and an officer came in, eyeing it, I was afraid that they would take it.” I suddenly felt my face get hot as this handsome man stared at me while I mumbled out some weird explanation for why I was interrupting his work. “Sorry,” I said, holding out the box. “Here.”

The slightest hint of a smile tugged at one corner of his mouth as he walked towards me. “Thank you.” He took the box from my outstretched hand, his fingers lightly brushing mine as he did. I was sure it was an accident and yet it instantly made my pulse race. “I appreciate it.” 

“You’re welcome,” I said, then turned to get out of there before I could embarrass myself further. 

“Do you make the cookies?”

I stopped and looked back at him. “What?”

He held up his box. “Are you the one who makes the cookies in here or do you just deliver?” 

“Oh. Yeah, I make them most of the time.”

He gave me a short lived, closed lip smile. “They’re very good.” 

My brain reacted as if I’d never heard a more flattering compliment in my life and I had to physically restrain myself from giggling. “Thank you,” I managed to say without betraying my giggling brain. “Have a good day.”

I left his office feeling like a teenage girl who’d just said something embarrassing in front of her crush and I couldn’t figure out why. The feeling lasted until I was back in my car. 

“Come on, Fiona, you’re a grown woman,” I whispered to myself, massaging my temples. “Don’t do this. Don’t do this.”

The last thing I needed on top of all of my responsibilities and already emotionally complicated current life situation was an unnecessary crush on a man just because he had pretty eyes and liked my cookies. But good heavens his eyes were pretty.

    _____________________________________

When I got home that afternoon, I found Mom in the living room. She was watching a cooking show. I went and gave her a kiss on the top of her head. Her hair was growing back just enough to feel like soft baby hair. I jokingly called it her duck feathers.

“How was your day, sweetie?” she asked.

I sat on the arm of the couch, facing her in the big recliner that swallowed her up. “It was good. Not too busy. I had my delivery to the police station again,” I said, letting myself grin. “I met one of the detectives, too. He was very handsome.” 

She looked at me, her cheeks a pretty pink color. It was such a wonderful sight after months of her being pale and gray. “Oh! What does he look like?” 

“He looks...manly,” I said. She laughed. “He was taller than me, which is always rare and attractive, and he has curly hair, and a beard, which I’m not usually attracted to but it really worked for him.” I sighed. “And his eyes. They were such a lovely blue.”

“Is he single?”

I shrugged and laughed. “I don’t know. I didn’t check for a ring. It wasn’t really that type of interaction,” I said. “I was just giving him his lunch and was surprised by how gorgeous he was.” I stood up. “Oh, and I think he’s English. He sounded like it anyway.”

“Honey, look for a ring next week!” 

“I won’t deliver next week, Nick will. You’ve got your appointment with Dr. Turner,” I reminded her. “I’m going to start dinner. Do you want anything special?”

She pointed at the TV. “They’re making chicken carbonara, it looks awfully tempting.”

I smiled. “I think I might be able to rustle some up for you. I’ll let you know when I’m done.”

“Thank you, Fi.”

#Henry Cavill #Walter Marshall #Night Hunter #Nomis #walter marshall fanfiction #Henry Cavill fan fiction #Night Hunter fan fiction #Walter Marshall/OFC #HenryCavillFanfic #WalterMarshallFanfic #All I've Ever Known

[chronicallylatetotheparty]

Scarlet Fever Ch.15 Emily Agreste (Part 1)

Summary: Endings and Beginnings.

Notes: Boy those were a lot of loose ends to tie up.

Ah, Emilie does Not make an appearance. It's more because she represents family.

------------------------

"I didn't realize you felt so overwhelmed until Princess Justice pointed it out."

"Yeah, but I didn't realize how much you were struggling until I found out who you were."

"It's not like I would have let you in even if you asked."

"I'm sorry I didn't ask."

"You were just following the rules."

"Lot of good that did, huh?"

"... I hate how much I failed you with the Snake."

"I'm sorry I put you in that position."

"I didn't say no."

"Adrien, if you showed up and said you trusted me with a Miraculous I would've jumped for joy!"

"Believe me. I was tempted."

"I never should've let you sacrifice yourself for me."

"From what I remember you usually didn't have much say."

"Exactly! You got hit because I couldn't get out of the way in time!"

"That's not how I see it."

"You getting hit was never okay."

"Better than the alternative."

"Not to me."

Adrien stared at the ceiling that still felt too close as the dream, or memories rather, faded. As tempting as it was to stay in bed and go back to sleep the blinds were pulled and sunlight was streaming in. And he was cursed, as his friends put it, with being a morning person.

Making his way to the restroom Adrien splashed water on his face and ran his wet hands through his hair to fix his bedhead. Combing it into his usual style. He paused, staring at his reflection in the mirror... At the model perfect look Gabriel had insisted on for years... Adrien ran his fingers through it, ruining it. Letting his locks fall in a decidedly Chat Noir-ish manner.

A knock on the bathroom door pulled Adrien out of his thoughts. "Bro, breakfast!" Nino called.

"Be right out!" Adrien hurried through the rest of his routine. His hair the only significant difference.

Plagg phased through the wall. "I dunno, Adrien," he started without preamble. "Turtle boy's kid brother is quite a handful."

Adrien smiled, scratching at the kwami's chin. "You're a handful too, Plagg."

"Yeah, but it's different when I do it!"

Chuckling, Adrien offered his pocket and Plagg flew in. Grumbling about tiny humans.

"Sleeping Beauty!" Nino exclaimed as Adrien sat next to him.

Pressing his lips together Adrien gave his best friend a mock glare. "That is not catching on."

"Oh, yes it is dude!" Nino stuffed his grinning mouth with baghrir. Butter and syrup almost dripping onto him.

Lips twitching into a smile despite himself Adrien reached for his own. "Where's Noël?"

"Folks took him to school," Nino replied around a mouthful.

"Yes!" Plagg flew out of Adrien's pocket and made a beeline for the fridge. "Camembert here I come!"

Shaking his head in fond exasperation Adrien ran a finger absentmindedly along the rim of his plate. M. and Mme. Lahiffe were kind enough to offer their home and let Nino take a few days off school. Nino insisted he think of it as an extended sleepover but... "I wanted to thank them for-"

Suddenly, Nino was leaning against him and wrapping an arm around Adrien's neck, pulling him close. "Dude, that's the fifth time you've said that."

"I'm just really grateful!" Adrien insisted, pushing him off.

"Believe me. They know."

Adrien swallowed the lump in his throat. The Lahiffe household was more than he could've hoped for. Especially with everything on the news. Gazing at Nino, the memory of a glowing purple butterfly came to the forefront. "To you too. For what you did."

Eyes widening for a moment Nino adjusted his cap, cheeks darkening. "What're best friends for?"

Adrien smiled softly. Tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. "You are the best. Y'know that, right?"

Nino wrapped his arms around Adrien in a  proper hug. "Back atcha, bro."

Returning the gesture, Adrien held him tight as his heartbeat spiked. "Couldn't have done it without you."

"Flatterer," Nino scoffed.

"Always."

Clearing his throat, Nino removed his glasses to rub at his eyes. "Eat up, dude! Don't want to keep the Gorilla waiting. We got a big day ahead."

"...Yeah," Adrien agreed. "We do."

 ----------

"Don't be bemused! It's just the news! The trial of the century is coming to a close. Disgraced fashion mogul Gabriel Agreste, who's terrorized Paris as the supervillain Papillon for the past two years, will finally face justice. The crown court is expected to reach their verdict later today. His son, fifteen year old Adrien Agreste, could not be reached for comment-"

Marinette pressed mute and turned away from the living room television. She hated that they had to mention Adrien like that. Like being Gabriel's son was the only description that mattered. Still, maybe she should bake Nadja some pastries as a thank you for pushing back against the idiots who wanted to lump Adrien in with Gabriel.

As a parent, as a reporter, Nadja had torn into anyone that even suggested Adrien was anything except a victim of his own father. On live television no less!

Just the memory of the press conference Ladybug called for the specific purpose of vouching for Adrien made her blood boil. If only they knew. Ungrateful jerks.

Tikki looked up from her place on the table, brow furrowing at her holder's tension. "Are you alright, Marinette?"

Sighing, Marinette glanced back at the screen. Slowly unclenching her fists. They were showing footage of his testimony again. "I'm worried about Adrien."

"Of course you are." Sabine set a plate of macarons next to Tikki. Who took the liberty of grabbing one. "That young man is going through something terrible very publicly. No wonder you're worried about him."

"Maman!" Marinette covered her face with her hands. "Saying it out loud doesn't make it better!"

Sabine gave her daughter a bittersweet smile. "Beating around the bush won't help."

Marinette groaned into her palms.

"But," Sabine continued, placing her hands on Marinette's, "you and all his other friends are making sure Adrien doesn't go through it alone."

Lowering her arms, Marinette looked down. "I... haven't been doing much, really."

"Marinette!" Tikki scolded. "What you've done for Adrien isn't nothing! You've talked to him, listened to him, been there for him. You're doing everything you can, Marinette!"

Sabine nodded, taking a seat next to her daughter. Holding their hands in her lap. "Even Ladybug has limits."

Marinette's mouth twisted ruefully. "I know."

"You know it here." Sabine tapped Marinette's forehead. "But here," Sabine pointed at Marinette's heart, "still has to catch up."

Her eyes stung as Marinette let herself fall into her maman's embrace. "I wish I could do more."

"Oh, honey." Sabine kissed her forehead. "I am so proud of the compassionate young woman you are. But you can't fix everything. More importantly it isn't your responsibility to fix everything."

Marinette opened her mouth to protest but Sabine laid a finger on her lips.

"She's right, Marinette." Tikki floated up to nuzzle against her holder's cheek. "What you're doing is already enough. More than enough. You're so kind to everyone else. Be kind to yourself."

Marinette didn't know when her tears fell but it didn't matter. For the first time since she donned the mantle of Ladybug, Marinette let herself be a girl crying into her mother's arms.

 ----------

"Marinette!" Alya almost knocked them both over as she squeezed a little too tightly. "It's been forever, girl!" Noticing the red in Marinette's eyes she frowned. "You okay?"

Marinette nodded. "I'm fine," And it didn't feel like a lie. She smiled at Alya's familiar worry. "It's only been a day."

"Like I said, forever."

Tikki poked her head out of Marinette's purse. "Good morning, Alya."

Eyes sparkling, Alya restrained herself from gushing. "Tikki!" she whisper-shouted. Mostly. "Good to see you. Any chance we'll be meeting your friends again?"

All things considered Alya had taken Marinette being Ladybug rather well. She had been more concerned with why Marinette was akumatized and how she could help. It was a relief, really. That Marinette didn't need to lie to her best friend anymore.

"I'm sure Trixx would be happy to." Tikki smiled at Alya's enthusiasm.

"If Fu ever lets go of that box again," Sabine muttered. She waved goodbye to Tom who was left in charge of the bakery.

"Maman!" Despite weeks of her mother being very vocal about Master Fu's flaws Marinette was still scandalized by her critique of the Guardian.

"Don't 'maman' me. You know it's true. The only reason he didn't take back all of his fancy jewelry is because Oblivio helped us out." Sabine smiled at Alya.

Cheeks darkening, Alya smiled back. It felt odd to be praised for something she used to be ashamed of.

Marinette gently squeezed her arm. "Thanks for that."

"Hey, you used the Butterfly. Me and Nino just aimed." Alya wasn't sure how hard it was to tweak Oblivio's power so they could target specific memories instead of erasing everything at once. But she wouldn't have wanted anyone besides Marinette on the other side of the telepathic link.

There were a lot more people that needed their memories adjusted than Alya thought. Sure, Gabriel and Nathalie needed to forget who Ladybug and Chat Noir were. But there was also everyone in the locker room when the akuma swarm came.

Marinette bumped playfully into Alya, lips twitching into a smile. "Never thought I'd be glad to see Oblivio again."

Alya wrinkled her nose. "That makes three of us." Looking from right to left to make sure no one was in hearing range Alya leaned in close. "I can't believe you have a superhero therapist!"

"Eh, not the weirdest thing to happen this month." Marinette was just glad she didn't need to keep Ladybug a secret from someone else.

"Did you, y'know, use Ladybug for that?"

"Actually, it was Adrien that got us an interview with her in the first place."

Before Alya could respond Kagami's car turned the corner. The door opening for them as the driverless vehicle pulled up to the curb.

"Marinette, Alya, Sabine," Kagami greeted as they all piled in. "And Tikki," she added as the kwami floated out of Marinette's purse. "...Where is Anansi?"

"Kicking butt. She's a kickboxer," Alya elaborated at Kagami's confused look. "Can't reschedule this time. Has to fight or she forfeits."

Kagami nodded in understanding. "Your sister is smart enough to know that one does not back down without giving it your all."

Marinette straightened as Kagami's eyes landed on her. She thought that might be referring to something besides fighting but it was hard to tell. Reading Kagami was always difficult.

"I can't believe I'm finally going to meet the Guardian!" Alya exclaimed. Sabine's sentiments barely putting a dent in her enthusiasm. "You think he's up for answering a few thousand questions?"

Kagami smiled despite herself. Her phone chimed and she frowned at the text. "We have to make a stop first."

 ----------

Nino hugged Alya and fist bumped Kagami. His eyes were tense despite the smile he gave them. "Hey, Mari."

Marinette's brow furrowed. "Nino." She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Is he...?"

Nino nodded, pointing his thumb behind his back. "Up ahead."

Taking a deep breath Marinette stepped into the cemetery proper.

The Gorilla was standing guard as usual. Spotting her, he gave Marinette a nod and let her pass. Walking further away to give them some privacy.

Adrien was standing rigidly in front of Emilie's grave.

What should she say? What could she say? Marinette cleared her throat. "Nino says you didn't want to have a funeral?"

Adrien shook his head, the first sign that he noticed her presence. "We- I already buried her once. Mourned her once. It's... not exactly easy the second time but..." He took a breath. It was shaky. "Um, the lawyer read me her will." His voice shook too. "M-maman didn't want- Sh-she didn't want..." Tears built up in his eyes. "What Gabriel did to her!" They flowed freely down his face. "Maman wanted to rest."

Marinette rushed forward and pulled Adrien close, letting him bury his face in her shoulder.

"Sh-she wanted to rest!" His voice broke as he breathed out the words.

Pushing down the disgust she felt towards Gabriel, Marinette focused on the boy in her arms. Rubbing circles into his shaking back. Soothing him, being there for him. Letting him spill his tears without comment. His breathing slowly evening out.

Sooner than she expected Adrien straightened, wiping at his eyes. "Thanks, I... I needed that."

Marinette swallowed. "A-anytime."

Adrien had cried more in the past few weeks than he had in the past year... That probably wasn't healthy. Something else to tell his therapist. "God. One of these days I'm going to stop crying on you!"

"I hope not," Marinette's mouth said before her brain could overanalyze it. Her eyes widened. "I mean- I don't want you to keep crying! That is- You can cry however much you want! Wait, no, I mean-"

Adrien smiled fondly at the familiar sound. The vise in his chest loosening its hold.

"Don't laugh at me!" Marinette pouted.

That only made his gaze soften further. "I missed you."

Pink dusting her cheeks, Marinette turned to avoid looking at him directly. "I missed you, too."

"I've just been so busy," he began.

"With the trial," she nodded.

"And therapy."

"And figuring out the next step with Master Fu."

"And it felt awkward, y'know?" Adrien gestured vaguely.

"To text or something," Marinette agreed.

Adrien blinked as he realized something. "Has it really been a week since we saw each other?"

"Eleven days," Marinette responded immediately. "But! Uh, who's counting?"

"It's odd not fighting akuma with you." Adrien fiddled with his ring.

Marinette's hand instinctively went to one of her earrings. "Not as odd as you being out of school for so long."

Adrien gazed up at the sky, thoughtful.

"... Are you coming back?"

"... Yes." The decision came to him easily. "All of you guys are there. My therapist thinks it's a good idea to be close to my support network. And Chloe's already offered to pull some strings so I'm not swarmed by paparazzi every day."

"So weird for Chloe to use her evil powers for good," Marinette muttered.

Adrien's lips twitched. "I'll be sure to tell her you said that."

"She probably wants to attach a helicopter pad to the school roof," Marinette joked.

"I talked her out of it."

Marinette choked a bit at that. Glancing at Adrien, she could see the tension he had when she first walked up to him was all but gone. His smile came easier. But... "If you needed to come here you could've said so. You made Nino worry."

"Ah." Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't know I needed to until this morning."

Ignoring the little voice in her head that panicked at the thought, Marinette grabbed Adrien's hand. His fingers curling around hers. "So you're not just avoiding the meeting we have with the Guardian?"

"Well," he finally grinned. "That too."

"He's not going to take Plagg away, you know. Maman won't let him."

"Ha! No, I don't think she would." Adrien gazed at Emilie's name carved in stone. "... You go ahead. I'll catch up."

Reluctantly, Marinette squeezed his hand before letting go. There was something else she wanted to say. But the words wouldn't come. Not taking her eyes off him until she passed the Gorilla.

Adrien turned back to his mother's grave with a bittersweet smile. "That's her. Ladybug. She's incredible, you'd like her. Stubborn, driven, intelligent. Couldn't ask for a better partner..." He placed a hand on the stone. "I wish you could've met her."

Floating out of Adrien's pocket Plagg laid his paw on top of the boy's hand.

"This is Plagg. He's a smug little troublemaker but that's part of his charm."

Plagg might've commented on Adrien's own troublemaking tendencies if this were any other circumstance. As it was Plagg just nuzzled against Adrien's hand.

A thought took root in Adrien's mind. "...Plagg?"

Ears twitching, Plagg looked up at his kid.

"Can... Can she hear me?"

Oh. Oh.

Plagg hated that question. The answer was never enough. Never as simple as yes or no. Over the centuries he'd lied through his teeth to ease his holders' burdens.

Adrien waited for his answer with trusting, patient eyes.

He swallowed the easy falsehood, burning his throat as it went. "I'll make sure she gets your messages," Plagg promised, ears drooping.

And for the first time in ten thousand years Plagg's holder simply nodded. "Thank you."

"...C'mon, kid," Plagg urged when Adrien didn't say any more. "They're waiting for you."

Sniffling, Adrien rubbed his eyes. "Y-yeah. Right."

Nino hugged Adrien tightly, practically squeezing the air out of his lungs. Kagami was little better. It was impressive how threatening she sounded while prompting Adrien to take care of his mental health. Sabine, by comparison, gave soft hugs and gentle encouragement.

Adrien loved all of it.

 -------------------------

#ml fanfiction #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ml #miraculous ladybug

[sery-chan-13]

Quality Time

Arisu Ryōhei

I don't know, but let me tell you... I just have a thing for gamers. Kenma, Arisu, Niragi (in case you didn't know, he's a game engineer, leading me to believe he's a gamer, obvi)

So... welcome, to an Arisu Chapter. I noticed I didn't write that much for Arisu, and someone else pointed out we need more stories for him, so... here we are! This is very very much self indulgent, but still a (Y/N) story. It takes place before the games, and is pretty fluffy... and a bit spicy at the end. Also, forgot to mention, you're a famous streamer (sounds like something fun 🙂✌), and (Y/N) is plus sized, because not every girl can have thick thighs and be skinny, so... yeah. Reminder it gets a bit suggestive towards the end, as I mentioned before Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Swearing, gamer rage, body shaming (numero uno, don't do this it's wrong. Numero dos, it doesn't work bc you're a bad bitch) kind of suggestive at the end? I don't know. As always, feel free to tell me if I forgot any.

"Fuck! Babe, watch out!"

"Got him! Yeah!"

"Nice!"

You two laughed, taking your attention off your screens for a second, high-fiving eachother before immediately going back to concentrating on t the game. Gunshot noises filled the air, as well as other noises from the game. The LED lights in your room turning from red, to pink, to purple. You had invited your boyfriend, Arisu, over to play games with you, which ended up in you streaming.

You were quite famous in the gamer community, being one of the more popular streamers. Since you were a girl, you got the occasional misogynistic asshole, but you always put them in their place. Many girls loved your page, and had told you that you inspired them by playing games and being unapologetically you. It was one of the many reasons you streamed.

"Damn it! Fucking hell, I died!" You raged, pouting slightly, and crossing your arms over your chest. "Shit. I died too," Arisu muttered angrily. You looked at the monitor, seeing the comments. "Oh, someone asked a question... Where are my parents? Pfft- I'm 23, I live by myself, but they are doing great, thank you," you laughed, seeing as a lot of people had actually been asking that question. Did you look that young? Arisu smiled, seeing you interact with your viewers. He leaned on his palm, watching you with a lovesick look on his face. He we saw some comments roll in, saying something along the lines of 'Get someone who looks at you the way Arisu looks at (Y/N)'. He blushed, but directed his attention back to you. He couldn't help that he loved you. And if everyone could tell by just his face, then so be it. Because then everyone would know it. That you were his, and he was yours.

"Oh, the outfit of the day? Yes!" You exclaimed, standing up from the gaming chair. Since you were such a big streamer, you could afford such a great set up. You always made sure Arisu came over to try things with you before you streamed with them though.

You were wearing a black mini skirt, and a dinosaur hoodie, because... dinosaurs are cute. You laughed, seeing the comments flow in, calling you cute and whatnot, until a paid message came in.

'Fat girls shouldn't have so many fans or a cute boyfriend' the automated voice said.

You laughed. "I'm sorry you feel threatened by my beauty, and that you're jealous my boyfriend isn't a shallow asshole. Trust me Sayaka, your username isn't discrete, thank you for giving me 10 dollars though!" You chirped, immediately noticing the username. It was some girl you used to go to school. She had become jealous of your success recently, seeing as she worked a boring office job. You two had actually been friends before this, but as of late, she had become an online bully to you. You didn't care, as you knew her words came from a place of envy. One day, you hoped you two would be able to make up, and be friends again. Arisu scowled. "I don't care how pretty any girl is, (Y/N) is the most beautiful girl in the world, in my opinion. You guys, be nice," he said, scolding Sayaka, and anyone who had said mean things. You laughed, seeing your boyfriend being protective. "Hey, how long have we been- oh wow... two hours? Um, so I think that's where we're going to leave the stream. Thank you all for the donations, kind words, and support. We really appreciate it. Hope you have a wonderful day or night, depending where you're from. If no one has told you, I'm so proud of you, and your achievements. You got out of bed today? Good job! You ate a full meal? I'm so proud of you! You did anything today? You're doing great! Bye bye now, and until next time, (Y/N) and Arisu... out!" You said, turning off the stream.

You let out a happy sigh, walking over to the bed. "Come on Ari~!" You sang patting the bed. He smiled, walking next to you. You grabbed the switch next to your bed, on the black nightstand. He sat on the bed in front  of you. You pulled him down, laying his head between your thighs, and handed him the switch. He looked up to the ceiling, and then up to your face. "What are you doing?" He asked. "Hm? I like you there. I can play with your hair," you said. He sighed happily, pressing a quick kiss to the inside of your thigh. You giggled. He started playing a game on the switch as you played with his hair, braiding tiny parts of it, and unbraiding them.

A few hours later, you were still in the same position. "Aren't you tired of being there? Do you want to do something else?" You asked, wondering if there was anything he would want to do. Your previous boyfriends would usually not even lay in between your legs like this. But, then again, your previous boyfriends were all douche bags who were embarrassed to be with you. "Not really. I could spend hours between your legs," he said, a bit of a suggestive smile working it's way onto his face. You blushed slightly, seeing the hidden meaning behind his words. You hit the top of his head lightly. "Arisu... don't be a perv," you giggled. He turned onto his stomach, leaning his head onto your thigh, his hand squishing the other. You laughed, seeing him love a part of your body you had been insecure about. "I'm not. Well... I am. But, I could. In both ways. When I say hours, I mean hours," he said.

You smiled, knowing he had no ulterior motives with his words. He wasn't the kind to flatter you just to get a quick fuck. He cared about you, and his words, while having a double meaning, weren't meant to butter you up. They were his genuine feelings.

He got up, bringing himself up to kiss you. You gladly accepted, kissing him back. He closed his eyes, the feeling of pure bliss he got by just being with you taking over his body. His warm hands cupped your face gently as he brought you closer. You smiled into the kiss, breaking away. Your forehead rested on his, your lips centimeters apart. "I love you. So much," you muttered. He could feel your words on his lips. He loved being so close to you. "I love you too. More than the stars in the night sky," he whispered back, opening his eyes to look into yours. You let out a shaky breath. He meant his words. "Let's test your words?" You suggested. His eyes widened. "Which ones? Because I promise anything I've said, I've meant. I've only told you the truth," he said, brushing back a strand of your (Dark/Light) hair that had fallen into your face. His hand rested on your cheek, and you leaned into his hand. "I don't doubt your words, 'Risu. Really, I know you mean them... and... how about we test your words of being able to spend-" you started, his face already turning red. You smirked, a teasing flint in your eyes. He knew the world of possibilities when you started to tease. You loved playing games, after all. But, so did he. Your competitions were always equally matched. You didn't need to finish your sentence. He already knew. "I'd... I'd like to test my words on that too."

I tried, I might have failed. Sorry it's so short!

#alice in borderland #×reader #arisu #hes baby i love him

[mermaidcashton]

dance in the living room, love with an attitude

authors: claire (@mermaidcashton) & laura (@maluminspace)  ship/AU: michael clifford/ashton irwin, roommates AU  prompt: “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do.”  wordcount: 10k+ warnings: swearing, implied & explicit sexual content  a/n: • written for @maluminspace & @h0tsos ‘s 5sos fic writers collab (in which we all chose from a list of AU’s and had the above prompt quote to include - check out the masterlist linked to see everyone elses!) • i do not give permission for this (or any of my writing) to be reposted, by anyone, on this or any other website. please don’t do it! • title from ‘only human’ by the jonas brothers dance in the living room, love with an attitude *** The music was probably turned up a little too loud, but it helped to drown out the nerves starting to bubble away in Michael’s tummy.  ‘I hope ‘Ashton’ likes MCR’ he thought as he half-heartedly wiped down the kitchen counters with a damp cloth. He wanted the place to look mildly tidier than it usually did for his new flatmate. First impressions counted for a lot, as his mum had told him twice this week already.

Once the splashes of milk from this morning’s mishap with the cereal had been washed away along with the crumbs from last night’s dinner of peanut butter on toast, he stole a quick glance at the clock on the wall over in the living room area. It wasn’t quite midday, which meant he had a little over an hour until his new roommate was due to arrive. That should mean that he just about had enough time to vacuum the whole flat and take a shower.  Throwing the dishcloth into the little cleaning basket on the window ledge, Michael focused on  screaming the lyrics to ‘Thank you for Venom’ and tried not to focus too much on the anxiety about the rest of the day.

Agreeing to live with someone he’d never met in person probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas. It’s not like Michael had been given much choice, though. His last flatmate had given him less than a week’s notice when she decided to move in with her short-term girlfriend and left Michael with a whole bunch of bills that his meagre paycheck could never stretch far enough to cover. Luckily, his best friend Luke had a work colleague who desperately needed a new place to live since his landlord had slapped him with a very short notice period to move out of his current flat. Luke had offered to give this work friend Michael’s contact details and the following morning, Michael had woken up to a text from a guy called Ashton who was very interested in Michael’s recently vacant spare room. 

After explaining the cost of rent and other bills in a few subsequent texts, Michael had received a very grateful reply from Ashton asking if it would be possible to  move in that weekend. Of course the blonde had agreed, eager to get the awkward first meeting out of the way as soon as possible.

Determined to get his most hated chore done before he could start collecting his thoughts and mentally preparing for the arrival of his new flatmate, Michael grabbed the portable hoover from the charging port on the tiny bit of the kitchen wall that was not taken up by the counters and cabinets. He was just about to press the ‘ON’ button when a knock at the door put an abrupt halt to his plans.

Michael huffed as he made his way over to the front door. The only people that had the security code for the entrance of the building were his parents and Luke, neither of which were due to visit today. That left only someone who had the wrong flat, or one other possible visitor; his neighbour, Calum. They’d hang out sometimes, whenever their days off matched up. Their shared interest in certain obscure and rare computer games and a mutual love of sushi and beer made for hours of fun without the chore of actually having to leave the building. Michael had definitely made sure to let Calum know that he was expecting his new flatmate to arrive today, though, so he was a little confused as to why his neighbour would be dropping by now. 

That feeling only intensified when a glance through the spy hole on his front door revealed that Calum was accompanied by a stranger. He opened the door cautiously, still feeling a little bewildered. 

“Hey, mate.” Calum grinned, waving a handful of unopened letters in greeting. “Just found this guy outside with a bunch of boxes. I knew you were expecting your new flatmate today, so I helped bring his stuff up.” His dark brown eyes surveyed Michael with something like confusion from beneath the rim of his seemingly ever-present black bucket hat. 

Michael could only imagine that his neighbour was mirroring his own befuddled expression because Ashton wasn’t due to arrive for another hour. He forced himself to look over at the stranger, whilst his mind worked over what was happening.

It appeared that Calum was right in assuming this was Ashton. He was indeed carrying a large cardboard box labelled ‘bedroom’ that would definitely suggest he was moving house. There were also a bunch of smaller boxes piled against the wall beside the front door which supported that assumption. 

“Do you guys need any more help?” Calum offered, “I’m free if…”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Michael cut in quickly. “We can take it from here, thanks Cal.” The last thing Michael wanted was more people to see the apartment in its current state. 

“No worries.” Calum smiled, “You know where I am if you change your mind.” He turned his attention to his little fluffy dog who had been patiently waiting for his post-walk nap. “C’mon Duke.” 

Once Calum and his little fluff ball had wandered off across the hall towards their own apartment, Michael turned his attention back to Ashton. Three things struck him about his new flatmate in very quick succession;

Ashton was incredibly hot. His curly black hair hung loosely around his handsome face, framing his chiselled cheekbones and clean shaven, angular jaw beautifully. His hazel eyes were striking from behind the horn-rimmed glasses perched neatly on his perfectly ski-slope shaped nose. 

He looked vaguely familiar. Michael knew that he’d seen Ashton’s face somewhere before but it wouldn’t quite click in his brain. Not that it would be entirely surprising if they’d met before, they did share a close friend after-all. It just seemed a little off that Luke hadn’t reminded Michael of the occasion they'd met at before suggesting they live together.

Despite his silence, Ashton looked somewhat annoyed, possibly bordering on angry. That struck Michael as odd. He had been known to piss people off fairly regularly but seeing as he’d barely even spoken to Ashton, this would be an all time record.

“So you must be Ashton…” Michael smiled, awkwardly tucking a strand of his messy blonde hair behind his ear whilst offering his free hand out for his new flatmate to shake. “I’m Michael, or you can call me Mike if you want. Most of my friends do.” Ashton didn’t accept the offer of a handshake, in fact he made no movement whatsoever. He simply glared at Michael with an increasing level of irritation. “Are you kidding me?” 

Michael knew that he was not the prettiest of people. He dressed casually most of the time and due to Ashton’s early appearance, he’d not yet had a chance to shower and make himself a little more presentable. He didn’t think that he quite deserved such a cutting greeting, though. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you yet, I was just…”

“You don’t even remember me, do you?!” Ashton interrupted, his tone dripping of resentment now. “Fucking unbelievable!”  Michael couldn’t remember ever feeling more confused in his life. Ashton hadn’t mentioned that  they’d previously met in his text messages so why would he be so angry that Michael hadn’t immediately recognised him now? 

The newcomer’s harsh tone had caught Calum’s attention, causing the neighbour to pause in sorting through his mail and stare unashamedly at the scene unfolding across the hall.

“This could only fucking happen to me…” Ashton huffed, adjusting his grip on the box in his arms. “I get turfed out of my flat because my landlord suddenly decides he wants it for his daughter and just when I think I’ve landed on my feet with a new place, my new fucking flatmate turns out to be a one night stand who doesn’t even remember me! Talk about kicking a guy when he’s down!”

Michael barely registered Calum’s audible gasp as realisation crashed around him. Suddenly the memory of the beautiful man that had swept Michael off his feet at a bar a few months back replayed in his head like a movie he’d seen once but hadn’t been able to remember the title of. He’d only known the guy as Ash and he’d assumed it was short for Ashley. Despite the fact that Ash’s hair had been a sexy shade of crimson, styled in a neat quiff and he hadn’t been wearing glasses, it was definitely the same guy that was standing in front of him right now. 

“Ash…” the word escaped Michael almost of it’s own volition. “But I thought that was short for… oh my god, this can’t be happening.” He cupped his own face in his hands as the reality of the awkward situation began to settle into the very fibre of his being.

“Wow, you can’t make this shit up.” Calum gasped, an almost delighted smile on his face. “What’re you guys gonna do?” 

Despite Calum’s annoying rubbernecking, it gave Michael the perfect excuse to look away from Ashton for a second. “Well I’m gonna throw something at you, if you don’t get lost right now, Calum.” He hissed. 

“He’s not the one coming across like a shithead right now.” Ashton scoffed, setting the box in his arms onto the floor. “Being a nosey neighbour still makes you a hell of a better person than the guy that flatters their way into your bed and gives you amazing sex but then gives you a fake number!”

“That’s right.” Calum agreed. “People that do that are the worst. At least have the balls to tell the other person you’re not looking for anything long term before you disappear the next day.”

“Calum, I swear to god…” Michael hissed. 

Ashton shook his head angrily. “He’s right, if you never wanted to see me again, you could have just said. I wouldn’t have wasted some of my best moves on you.” 

“Oh, what were the moves?” Calum smirked, prying his way further into the conversation. 

His neighbour’s blatant disregard for the seriousness of the situation was annoying to say the least. It was also the last thing Michael needed to deal with right now. “Piss off, Calum!”, he snapped. 

Duke yapped disapprovingly at Michael, his tiny eyes focused on the blonde man as his human’s smirk grew even further across his face.

“Oh, you can shut up as well!” Michael snapped at the tiny pooch. “Now you’re yelling at a dog.” Ashton rolled his eyes. “Maybe it’s a good thing you blew me off, looks like I had a lucky escape from dating an arsehole!”  Michael really couldn’t envisage the situation getting any worse. At this rate he was going to be searching for another roommate instead of enjoying a pleasant lunch with this one, like he’d hoped. 

“I didn’t give you a fake number!” Michael protested. “I swear, I’m not like that, and I really liked you! I broke my phone, the same weekend we...met.” He felt his cheeks begin to colour, trying his hardest to ignore Calum’s snort as he focused on Ashton’s disbelieving face.

“It took me two weeks to sort out a new one, I had a little pay as you go in between, I had a different number, and I-you did call, then?” Michael paused his blurted explanations to blurt out a question, instead. He had been wondering every time it was late and he was alone for 6 months whether or not he’d missed a call from the best one night stand of his life. 

“Of course I did!” Ashton threw his hands up in exasperation, startling Duke and sending him scuttling back into the still-open doorway of the opposite flat. “I thought we had a connection, we said we wanted to see each other again; that doesn’t happen that often for me! Maybe it does for you…”

“Oh, it definitely doesn’t.” Calum smirked. “The only man who comes to see Michael regularly is the Domino’s delivery guy.” 

Before Michael could blow up at him, Calum backed up properly into his flat, resting his hand on his front door. “It’s a shame, actually,” he continued, smiling encouragingly at his neighbour. “Michael is really a great guy. He always has time for me and Duke; whether it’s for beers, a listening ear, or belly rubs.” 

He throws a wink to Ashton as he shuts his front door with a click. “I’ll leave you to figure out which one is for me. Welcome to the building!” 

Michael knows he needs to gain control of the slightly-stunned silence left in Calum’s wake, fast. He needs to say something apologetic, or charming, or cool. “Do you like fish fingers?” Or that. 

Ashton blinked a few times in quick succession, and Michael wanted to throw himself down the stairs. 

“Do I like fish fingers?” Ashton repeated, pushing his long black hair back with both hands.

Michael flushed again, at least thankful for the fact that he no longer had an audience for the most embarrassing encounter of his life. “It’s just, I thought we could have lunch, and talk, and I’m not really much of a cook, but I have fish fingers, right, and everyone likes fish finger sandwiches...don’t they…” He trailed off, hoping Luke perhaps had another co-worker who needed immediate accommodation. 

Ashton fixed him with the most intense stare he’d ever received in a conversation about freezer food, and Michael tried to match his unrelenting gaze in a way that would make him look less like he wanted to cry. Ashton’s eyes really were beautiful, seeming almost magnified by his glasses. He looked thoughtful and sad now, rather than judgmental and angry, and Michael would take that.

“I do.” Ashton decided on, after what felt like an eternity. He stooped down to pick up his box again, muscles tensing, and Michael’s mind began to wander. 

He remembered Ashton’s arms looking just like that as he lifted him up for the last few feet of the journey to the redhead-at-the-time’s bed. Michael could almost feel his fingers digging into the bare skin of his thighs all over again. The memories of slow, wet, considered neck kisses being broken with teeth, and the delicious burn that started low and spread like wildfire as Ashton stretched him out like he was born to do it.

“Michael? After you?”  Michael snapped out of his daze, dragging his eyes away from Ashton’s lips where they had landed at some point in his reminiscing. He stepped back so Ashton could enter the flat and set the box down by the sofa. “Yeah, great, come in, make yourself at home, I’ll get the rest of your boxes!”   As soon as he was outside in the corridor, Michael let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. ‘Okay, Clifford - you need to snap out of it. Relax and smooth things over so you two can live together.’ He told himself, as sternly as he could manage. ‘We need a roommate more than we need to get laid.’

‘That’s debatable.’ Another voice - which sounded more like Calum than himself - chimed in before Michael shook it off and picked up the stack of cardboard boxes cluttering up the corridor.

‘Okay, you can do this. Damage control. Just be normal. Go in and face this head on. You can do this.’ Michael murmured, running his tongue over his bitten lips as he took his first steps back to where Ashton was waiting.

He hip-checked the front door closed as he re-entered the flat, placing the boxes next to one Ashton had carried in, before straightening up to see Ashton sat on the sofa, looking both nervous and delicious. 

“I…” Michael faltered under Ashton’s almost shy gaze, then caught sight of a slice of Ashton’s firm, hairy stomach from where his t-shirt was riding up slightly.

“I just need to go to the bathroom. Then we can...talk, and eat. Okay?” Michael forced what he hoped was a casual, winning smile, and then scuttled across to the bathroom the moment Ashton made a noise of agreement and nodded his head.

Michael clicked the lock shut and put the toilet lid down as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants. He began tapping away with urgency as he took a seat on the toilet, pulling up his message thread with his best friend.

SOS!!!! 🚨

Luke!!!!

Where are you

LUKE FUCK HELP ME YOU DICK

With each message he sent, Michael could feel his panic beginning to swell back up in his chest. Finally, three dots began moving across the message to indicate Luke was writing. Help was on the way.

🥺🥺🥺 What’s up

Michael felt what he knew was an unjustified rage at Luke and his fucking emojis as he furiously typed a reply.

Oh nothing, I just had sex with my new roomate!!!

Michael jumped when his phone immediately started vibrating relentlessly, sliding his finger across the screen and holding it gingerly to his ear. 

“Hello?” He whispered into the receiver. 

“WHAT!!! What do you mean you’ve slept with him?! Ashton was due there at 12, and it’s now...12 minutes past 12! That’s INSANE, even for you! I cannot believe-”

“Luke!” Michael hissed through clenched teeth, turning on the cold tap on the sink before he spoke again. “Not today, idiot! Remember, months ago, when I broke my phone? That weekend, I hooked up with that guy I met at The Alchemist? Red hair, big arms, amazing mouth-”

“Yes, I remember! What’s that got to do with it?” Luke cut in. 

“It was Ashton. I only knew him as Ash, remember? And obviously I never saw him again because I had no way to contact him after I broke my phone. But it’s him, Luke - he’s in my living room! In OUR living room! What am I gonna do?! I am freaking out!”

“Oh my God! You’ve really outdone yourself this time, Mike! You’ve had your new roommates dick in your mouth before he even moved in! Classic you.”

Michael could practically hear Luke’s eyeroll. “This is not classic me! Dick! Help me, Luke!”

“What do you want me to do, I can’t unfuck him for you!” Luke shot back. Michael let out an involuntary whimper and slumped further down on the toilet. He was so screwed.  

***

Michael emerged from the bathroom, Luke’s advice ringing in his ears as he approached Ashton on the sofa.  ‘He’s a really nice guy, Mike; just talk to him. Explain what happened after you hooked up, and say you hope you can put it behind you and be friends. I think he’ll be cool, honestly. Just try not to trip and land on his dick and you should be golden.’ 

He took one last deep breath as he sat down on the black leather beside his one-time lover.

“So, Ashton...I...listen, I’m sorry that I broke my phone and made you think I’d ghosted you. I’m just an idiot that dropped his phone outside Sainsbury’s. And I’m really sorry I didn’t recognise you straight away, I was just expecting someone I hadn’t, and your hair, and glasses, and-” Michael could feel himself starting to babble but he couldn’t stop himself; he was so desperate for Ashton to like him. He was trying not to think about why it was this important to him. 

Ashton held his hand up to stop him with a small smile. “Michael, it’s okay.”  

Michael stopped short in his unravelling with a look of surprise. “It is?”

Ashton’s smile grew wider. “Yeah. I was just a bit blindsided, and I was hurt at the time back then, you know? But you explained, you apologised, and you seem like a nice guy. Luke sure can’t talk you up enough, and I trust him. I have no reason not to believe this is gonna be all good.” 

Michael blinked, unsure if this was too good to be true. “Yeah? So...we’re good? You’re gonna...stay?”

Ashton relaxed back into his seat, toeing his shoes off and under the coffee table. “If that’s okay with you, yeah. We’re both grown ups; we can keep it platonic and put the past behind us, right? Friends?”

Michael nodded, trying to hide the gulp in his throat. “Yeah, of course. Right. Great. Friends.” He could definitely do this.

***

He could definitely not do this. 

It’d been a long one month, two weeks and three days of trying to convince himself that he didn’t want to be anything more than Ashton’s friend and roommate. 

Some days, Michael thought it was possible to put those lingering feelings away and focus on their blossoming platonic relationship. After all, Ashton was everything most people could ever want in a flatmate. He was tidy, considerate, fairly quiet and respectful of personal boundaries. The slightly older man was also great company. Michael has had many pleasant conversations with him over breakfast and in the evenings before they went to bed. 

As lovely as all of that was, Michael had started questioning if it was worth the growing ache in chest for more. Each new thing he learnt about Ashton made him more sure that he was probably the closest thing to the perfect man that Michael would ever know. It was a cruel twist of fate that had meant his one opportunity to have Ashton for himself had slipped through his fingers, quite literally. He cursed himself on a daily basis for that one clumsy moment when he’d fumbled pulling his old phone from his too-tight jeans outside the supermarket and had been forced to watch his only chance with Ashton sink into a muddy puddle. 

Whatever higher powers existed had been even less kind to have that strong, gorgeous, well-hung man turn up on Michael’s doorstep months later, as his only hope of being able to keep the flat he’d grown to love. 

Every day since then, seemed to have presented a new challenge or torture. First it was the tight t-shirts and vests Ashton wore more often than not. They accentuated every muscle of the raven-haired man’s torso and displayed his strong biceps in all their glory. 

Then came the sleepy morning routine they’d subconsciously fallen into. Ashton would emerge from his room in nothing but his loose grey sweats and crooked glasses, his hair ruffled and his eyes heavily lidded, before joining Michael for a hasty breakfast which usually consisted of cereal or toast and mug of strong coffee. It was during these sluggish mornings when they’d started to bond over their mutual love of crime dramas and fantasy movies, among other things. That had naturally led to evening-long Criminal Minds marathons whole weekends debating whether the Lord of the Rings movies or the Harry Potter movies were the better adaptations of their original books. Those playful arguments had spilled over into text messages now, so Michael couldn’t even escape his torturous living situation when he went to work. 

Despite all of that hardship, the most latest and arguably the toughest challenge Michael found himself facing, was Ashton’s morning yoga. At first, the older man had kept that part of his morning routine confined to his bedroom. For some reason or another, over the last week or so, Ashton had decided that the living area was a more suitable location for this activity. 

If Michael thought that sleepy, shirtless morning Ashton was hot, then sleepy, shirtless morning Ashton doing the ‘downward dog’ was positively off the fucking scale. The way his large hands pressed into the yoga mat and the way his strong arms and legs tensed as he straightened his back and pushed his arse up into the air lingered in Michael’s mind all day. These images often flickered through his mind at night too, when he was alone in his bed with nothing but his hand for company. 

Deciding that a little get together with some friends would help dispel some of the tension, Michael floats the idea of asking Calum and Luke over for a ‘lads night’. Ashton had agreed easily, being a generally social person, he’d seemed enthusiastic about the possibility of hosting a mini party. 

A group message is created and it doesn’t take long to settle on the following Friday night for beer, snacks and a FIFA tournament. 

Ashton seemed to have been looking forward to it, often mentioning how excited he was to get to know Calum better and asking Michael to help him decide between certain snacks to purchase for the occasion. 

All in all, Michael was proud of himself for the idea, focusing on hosting a couple of friends had certainly given both him and Ashton something new to focus on. 

It was only when Friday arrived that Michael started to doubt his plan. Watching Ashton arrange plates of snacks on the kitchen counter, with the cutest concentration face he’d ever seen, started to make Michael wish they were spending the evening alone instead. He quickly pushes the thought of his head, berating himself for thinking something so stupid. It’s not like anything could happen between them even if they were alone, they were roommates now, that’s where their relationship ends. 

“So....” Ashton broke the silence enveloping the flat as he finished pouring a bag of cheesy Doritos into a bowl. “Did you finally solve the mystery of who was stealing people’s shit from your fridge at work?” 

Michael was caught off guard by the question. He’d been watching Ashton so intently that he momentarily forgot about everything else. It took him a moment to remember that he’d been keeping Ashton up to date with the ongoing lunch burglar drama at the DIY store he worked at. “Oh, umm no, not yet! But Brenda finally told Linda to stick her fake friendship where the sun doesn’t shine.” 

A genuinely delighted smile burst into Ashton’s face as he headed into the living room area. “Good for her! Linda sounds like a bitch…” 

It really meant a lot to Michael that Ashton took such an interest in his work life. The fact that he cared so much about people he didn’t know, but was aware they meant a lot to Michael, was also heartwarming. 

Before Michael could go into more detail about the break time drama, a knock at the front door interrupted him. “Oh yay! Our first guest!” Ashton beamed, jogging off towards the front door to greet Calum.

***

As soon as the beer and wine had started flowing, Michael’s ever-present pining for Ashton dulled to an almost non existent haze at the edges of his mind. Sure, his knees felt weak every time Ashton flashes him that dopey smile of his and he might have blushed whenever their knees touched as they competed against each other in a thrilling game of virtual soccer. 

That was all better than his usual all-consuming lust, so Michael was somewhat proud of himself. He even managed to surprise the urge to let Ashton win their game, and was almost smug when his player sent the football flying past Ashton’s keeper to secure a 2-1 win. 

“Motherfucker!” Ashton grumbled, throwing his control pad into the sofa as he fixed Michael with look that was almost definitely the hottest gaze he’d ever been caught under. “I’m gonna get you for that, Clifford.” It sounded like a promise that held more weight than the simple challenge to a rematch it was probably meant to be. 

Michael had to fight back a whimper, staring into Ashton’s beautiful hazel eyes this closely was too much. The intensity of it all rendered him momentarily speechless and he was all-too glad when Ashton got to his feet and headed for the kitchen. 

“I need to drown my sorrows.” The black-haired man laughed, breaking the tension that had descended on them before heading off to the kitchen. Ignoring the knowing looks from his two friends, Michael picked up Ashton’s discarded controller and tossed it to Luke. “Your turn to face me, Hemmings. Let’s see if I can beat my all time record of beating you 6-1” 

“Fuck off! You have never beat me that badly.” Luke huffed, picking up the control pad that had just landed in his lap. “I’m gonna enjoy kicking your ass in front of your new boy-“

“Shit, we’re out of beers already!” Ashton’s interruption came at exactly the right moment in Michael’s opinion. He really hadn’t wanted Luke to finish that sentence and now he wouldn’t get the chance. 

“I’ll go to the shop for some more, does anyone have specific requests?” The eldest friend asked as he traipsed back into the living room area. 

“Oh you don’t have to go!” Michael shrugged, “you should stay here, we’ll send Luke instead, he sucks at this game anyway.” 

Luke scoffed, waving his hand defensively. “You’re not getting out of playing me that easily!” 

Ashton laughed, his eyes sparkling as he checked that his wallet was still in his jeans pocket. “It’s fine. I’m already out of the competition and I wouldn’t want to give anyone else an unfair advantage.” 

Maybe it was just the effects of the beers he’d already drank, but Michael could have sworn that Ashton’s gaze lingered on him a little longer than it probably should have. “You’re too nice.” The blonde beamed fondly, “I’ll transfer you my half of the money in the morning, unless you wanna take a tenner from my room?” 

“Oh is that an open invitation?” Calum asked, a lazy smile curling the corners of his lips. “You owe me at least that from when we bet on whether or not Luke could drink that tzatziki sauce last time.” 

“Fuck off, Calum! I don’t owe you a penny, I won that bet, Luke’s a fucking wuss…” 

“Hey! I am not!” Luke interrupted incredulously. 

“Okay, I need to hear that whole story when I get back!” Ashton giggled. “I’ll just grab a case of whatever beer is the cheapest though, yeah.” 

There was a general murder of agreement before Ashton headed out of the front door. Michael fond him watching until Ashton had disappeared into the hallway, swinging the front door closed behind him. “He’s so nice…” The blonde sighed dreamily, still gazing at the closed front door. “Don’t you think he’s just the best?” 

Calum and Luke exchanged a ‘is he for real’ glance before silently agreeing that this was the perfect opportunity to tease Michael about his blatant love for Ashton. 

“Yeah, he’s pretty special.” Calum agreed, smirking slyly. “You really can’t sing his praises highly enough, can you?” 

Shaking his head, Michael finally returned his attention to the TV. “You really can’t, he’s just so kind and sweet.” 

Calum nodded in agreement. “Not bad to look at either!” 

“Right?!” Michael giggled, oblivious to the fact that his tipsiness was making his lips too loose.  

“Hey Mike.” Luke cut in, reaching over to nudge his friend’s shoulder. “How’s being in love with your flatmate working out for you?” His conversational tone was entirely at odds with mischief in his eyes. It confused Michael but the youngest friend’s words were altogether too bold, a blatant overstep if ever there was one. 

Despite his inner rage at being called out like this, Michael fumbled, unable to cobble together an appropriate response. “Ugh, I don’t even… You’re so far-“ 

“There’s no point denying it anymore.” Calum chuckled, “I can feel the sexual tension between you two from across the hall!” 

“God, I bet it’s like watching a car crash, isn’t it?” Luke asked, picking up the bowl of M&M’s on the coffee table. “It’s horrific but you can’t tear your eyes away? Am I right?” 

Calum nodded. “It’s like watching a bad fucking soap opera.” 

Michael felt offended and embarrassed but still no words seemed to form coherently in his mouth. 

“At least it’s a bit less tragic now we can be sure it’s not entirely one sided!” Luke stage whispered with a calculating look on his face as he met Calum’s gaze.

“Yeah, it’s mildly less irritating!” Calum laughed. 

“Wait, what do you mean?” Michael sputtered. “Ash and I agreed that our one night stand is ancient history, we’re not-“ 

“Oh puh-lease!” Calum scoffed. “If you two haven’t fucked again by the end of this month I’ll eat my bucket hat.”

***

Ashton had returned with a case of twenty four bottles of beer and as a result, lad’s night had ended up running into the early hours of Saturday morning. 

Having drank his way through more than his fair share of that case, Michael didn’t end up rising from his pit until noon had long since been and gone. 

“Ah you are still alive!” Ashton chuckled, tearing his attention away from the TV to look at his flatmate. 

This was definitely not fucking fair. Michael didn’t need to look in a mirror to know that he looked exactly as he felt - rough as all hell. Ashton on the other hand, still looked as dreamy as ever. His black curls, although slightly ruffled and fluffy, were still on the stylish side of messy and he’d somehow found the motivation to get dressed, too, something Michael wasn’t even contemplating.

 “I’m glad you’re up now, though, I wondered if you had anything planned for dinner?” Ashton asked, peering at Michael from behind his horn-rimmed glasses. 

The thought of food made Michael’s stomach lurch unpleasantly and he had to fight to hold back a wretch. 

Ashton gives a sympathetic giggle before pausing his show and rising to his feet. “I’ll take that as a no. Don’t worry, buddy. I have a plan but first…” he jogged over to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. “Why don't you go and take a shower while I make you a tea? You’ll feel better after that and then we will talk dinner!” 

As Michael plods over to the bathroom, he shoots one last look over at Ashton, busily preparing mugs on the countertop and tries his absolute hardest to remember a time that he wasn’t in love with his flatmate.

***

As always, Ashton was proven to be 100% correct. 

Michael felt a million times better once he was showered and snuggled on the sofa with a mug of steaming tea. 

“You look a little more alive now.” Ashton smirked, sparing Michael a sideways glance before returning his attention to ‘Law and Order’. “Do you think you can handle talking about dinner yet?” 

The ache in Michael’s stomach felt a lot more like hunger than it had done when he first woke up and the thought of food didn’t make him feel like throwing up anymore so he nodded. “What’re your plans, chef?” 

Ashton’s cheeks turned a rosy pink as he shrugged. “I couldn’t bear to see you try to cobble together another freezer meal so I thought you might like me to teach you a simple pasta dish?” He suggested, his tone a little shy like he was worried what Michael’s reaction would be. “I’ll do most of the work, but I thought if you helped out, you’ll learn how to make something other than Super Noodles.” 

Michael couldn’t even be mad at the subtle dig at his cooking skills. He was terrible in the kitchen and it was just a little embarrassing that Ashton had noticed just how dyer his cooking skills were. “When you say simple, do you mean like a recipe and technique you can write on the back of a postage stamp because that’s about the level of my skill.” 

Rolling his eyes, Ashton casually threw his arm around Michael’s shoulders. “Don't be so hard in yourself, buddy! I once taught Luke how to make scrambled eggs on the stove so he didn’t have to be a savage and use the microwave anymore, so there’s definitely hole for you, I promise.” 

Michael tried to focus on the hat Ashton was saying but all that his slow, hungover brain could process was that he was pressed against his stupidly gorgeous flat mate’s side. The heady smell of Ashton’s minty body wash and the soft scent of his fabric conditioner felt intoxicating and Michael could do nothing besides allow his head to drop into Ashton’s shoulder. 

To the blonde’s surprise, Ashton shuffle away or call him out on it. He simply rests his own head on Michael’s and laughs. “We’ll make a chef of you yet, Clifford.” He promised.

***

They spent a good three hours, watching reruns of C.S.I and making plans to start a Marvel movie marathon after dinner. They sat close to each other the whole time and Michael noticed Ashton watching him from the corner of his eye on at least three separate occasions. 

By the time Ashton suggested they start making dinner, Michael had gone over his conversation with Calum and Luke the previous night, about sixty times. His two best friends had convinced him that Ashton wanted Michael just as much as Michael wanted Ashton. 

“The way he looks at you, dude.” Calum laughed. “He’s practically imagining you naked at any given moment. It’s getting uncomfortable.” 

“Don’t be stupid!” Michael reprimanded. “He doesn’t think of me like that anymore. We had a one night thing months ago. That’s it. Nothing else will ever happen between us again, we’re just flatmates.” 

Calum and Luke exchanged a sceptical glance before bursting into laughter. 

“Yeah right!” Luke huffed sarcastically. “Do you know how many times I hear your name come out of his mouth at work these days?” 

Michael’s cheeks reddened. He had no idea that Ashton talked about him at work. It felt kind of surreal to imagine his roommate relaying snippets of their home life to Luke. 

“Let me guess!” Calum interrupted. “About a thousand…” 

Nodding, Luke drained the last of his beer. “Yeah and that’s just before lunch!”

“Honestly, if they don’t bang soon I’m gonna knock their heads together.” Calum sighed. “Did you know Michael comes over to my place most mornings so he doesn’t have to watch Ashton do topless yoga?” He asked Luke disbelievingly. “I want my lie-in’s back!” 

At the time, Michael hadn’t believed his friends. He didn’t think that there was even a remote possibility that Ashton still carried a torch for him. But in the clear light of day, Michael couldn’t deny that all the signs were there… perhaps there could be more between them after all. 

He followed Ashton into the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves of his grey oversized sweater, trying to clear his mind enough to be able to process learning a new skill. 

“Okay, this is like the simplest recipe I know but it’s delicious and tastes so much better than the freezer junk you usually make for yourself.” Ashton rambles as he grabs a saucepan and a frying pan from the shelf near the cooker.  

“Hey, freezer junk has been my lifeline on many occasions, I’d probably be dead without it.” Michael scoffed, only half joking. 

Ashton rolled his eyes fondly, handing Michael the saucepan. “Fill this with water for me and then put it on the back hob, while it’s boiling I’ll teach you how to make the sauce.” 

As Michael carried out his instructions, he couldn’t help but admire the concentration on Ashton’s face when he began rifling through the fridge and cupboard, pulling out various ingredients. 

Once the pan of water was safely on the job Ashton had indicated, Michael returned his full attention to the slightly older man.

“Right, the first thing we do for the sauce is put 2-3 tablespoons of olive oil into this cold pan.” Ashton explained, pushing his glasses up his nose a little, reminding Michael of a hot English teacher or something… fuck, it was already difficult enough for Michael to concentrate without random fantasies about Ashton fucking him over a desk running through his mind. “Usually I’d never add oil to a cold pan, but for this particular recipe, it works because if the pan was already hot, the first ingredients would burn before the rest was in there.” 

There was something about the way Ashton talked with such passion and confidence that made Michael wish he was confident enough to just drag him to the bedroom, his need for more from Ashton becoming unbearable. He forced himself to nod, pretending like he understood when really, Ashton could be telling him absolutely anything right now, and Michael would not know the difference because all he can think about is the way Ashton had groaned at the feeling of Michael’s nails running down his back and how he’d growled Michael’s name as he neared his climax. 

“Can you pass me the basil?” Ashton asked, pulling Michael out of his memory. 

The blonde surveyed the ingredients on the countertop. Luckily he recognised most of them, so he picked up the basil by process of elimination and handed it to Ashton like a dutiful sous chef. 

Ashton looked mildly impressed as he took the bag of basil and took out handful. “We want about ten or so decent sized leaves and we tear them in half before adding them to the oil, okay?” He waited for Michael’s nod of understanding before tearing the leaves in his hand and dropping them into the pan. 

“Then we need to chop 6-8 cloves of garlic directly into the pan.” Michael looked back at the little stack of ingredients and frowned, noticing an instant problem. “We only have one clove of garlic…” he pointed out, biting his bottom lip worriedly. 

Ashton burst out laughing as he picked the garlic up from the counter. “This is a whole bulb, babe…” he explained, apparently not even noticing his use of the supposedly accidental pet name. 

It was difficult for Michael to feel too offended by Ashton’s laughter when he’d just called him babe, though, so he let it go, focusing on the term of endearment, no matter how accidental it might have been, rather than the humour at his dumb mistake. 

“It’s the smaller, wedge shaped pieces that are cloves, please don’t mix that up if you make this without my help.” Ashton chuckled, breaking six cloves from the bulb and picking up a tiny knife he’d laid out next to the oven. 

“Don’t laugh at me!” Michael pouted. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do.” 

Ashton gave him a fond smile. “You’re not alone in that, I promise…” 

It was hard not to feel comforted by Ashton’s lopsided smile, so most of his embarrassment slipped away fairly quickly. 

“I just chop off the little hard parts at the bottom of each clove and peel the skin off before chopping it directly into the pan. Don’t chop it on a board or you’ll lose some of the flavour.” Ashton explained carefully. 

Michael watched with interest as Ashton demonstrated his technique with the first two cloves. He handed the third to Michael along with the knife and gestures for him to add it to the pan. 

It took him probably three times longer to chop that one clove into the pan, than it took Ashton to do the first two, but he was encouraging and patient. The older man praised Michael for completing the tiny task, seeming genuinely impressed.

Once all six cloves of garlic had been added to the pan, Ashton turned on the hob into a medium heat. “Okay, so we stir this together for about five minutes. Can you do that while I open the tin of tomatoes?” 

Michael nodded, picking up the wooden spoon from the counter and storing the simmering ingredients together. It already kinda smelt like his favourite Italian restaurant and his tummy grumbled impatiently. 

“One thing I should specify is, you need to use tins of whole tomatoes, not chopped.” Ashton explained as he poured the first tin of tomatoes into the sizzling pan. “Can you pour in the second one?” 

Michael did as he was told and watched as Ashton squished the whole tomatoes down and stored them into the red eat of the ingredients. 

“Mmm it smells so good.” Michael sighed, breathing in the delicious smells. 

Ashton looked proud of himself as he offered a smile. “Can you take over the stirring while I add the salt?” 

Michael took the spoon from Ashton, ensuring that their fingers brushed. 

There was a moment of eye contact and a silent shifting of tension between the two of them. If ever there was a time to bite the bullet and kiss Ashton, now would be it. His nerves failed him though and he dropped his gaze to the simmering pan. 

Instead of moving around Michael to pick up the salt as he’d done for the tomatoes, Ashton simply reached past the blonde, pushing him against the counter momentarily before he pulled back to add the salt to the pan. 

If Michael had been fully alert, he’d have recognised that for the flirtatious move it was meant to be, as it was, he put it down to a simple lack of judgement on Ashton’s part and continued to concentrate on stirring the sauce.

***

The tomato pasta tasted as good as it had smelt. It turned out to be exactly what Michael’s hungover body had needed. 

He and Ashton had eaten it at their little table in the kitchen. Conversation had flowed freely as always, skirting around flirtatious at times but never quite enough for Michael to pluck up the courage to take things further. 

“The only thing that would have made that better would have been a nice glass of white wine, but I thought you were still a bit too delicate for that.” Ashton giggled as he picked up the empty plates from the table and carried them over to the kitchen sink. 

“Hey, you drank as much as I did!” Michael pouted, picking up the empty glasses and following Ashton to the sink. “How’re you not hungover.” 

Ashton chuckled as he ran the water into the washing up bowl. “You’re just a lightweight, Mikey.” 

It wasn’t the first time Michael had been called that so it didn’t take him by surprise. He laughed it off as he grabbed a tea cloth ready to dry the dishes that Ashton washed. “One day you’ll stop teasing me, Irwin.” 

Ashton shook his head. “Don’t count on it, babe… you’re too easy to make fun of, that’s not my fault.” 

There it was again, that little slip, a fond nickname that roommates probably shouldn’t have for one another. 

Quickly pulling himself together, Michael nudged his flatmate in the arm, just hard enough to pull a surprised “oof” from him. 

“Careful now.” Ashton warned jokingly. “You don’t want to start a scuffle you can’t finish, Clifford.” 

Michael threw caution to the wind and nudged Ashton again, deliberately keeping his gaze on the plate he was drying. 

“That’s it!” Ashton huffed, scooping up a handful of bubbles and swiping them across Michael’s face. 

The blonde spluttered and shook his damp fringe out of his face before fixing Ashton with a glare. A few acts of retaliation flashed through his mind. He could have whipped Ashton with the tea cloth or splashed him with dishwater but none of that happened. 

There was something about the way Ashton’s eyes were sparkling, almost like he was daring Michael to do the thing he’d been too scared to do this whole time. He refused to let another opportunity pass like before when they were making the pasta sauce. Michael tried not to overthink as he stepped forward and cupped Ashton’s face with one hand before leaning in and kissing him. 

The raven-haired man’s lips felt every bit as soft as they had done on that night seven months ago. Ashton didn’t kiss back with the same hunger and desperation that he had done back then, though. 

Michael stepped back, feeling his cheeks heat up in an embarrassed blush. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, Ash…” 

Ashton bit his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared at Michael intently. “No…” He said, finally breaking his silence. “You just shouldn’t have waited so long.” 

The older man’s words had barely penetrated Michael’s brain before he was being  pressed against the counter behind him. Ashton’s lips were on his again but this time they were working just like they had been that night at Ashton’s old place. 

The intense kiss pulled a whine from Michael and he automatically wrapped his arms around the older man’s neck. 

It started as a fairly simple kiss but it quickly began to build momentum. It was the crack in the dam holding back all of their emotions for all this time. 

“Ashton…” Michael gasped as they pulled apart for air. “I know we said we should just be friends but…” 

“Fuck being just friends.” Ashton mumbled as he worked kisses down Michael's neck. “I can’t pretend anymore.” 

Those words were all Michael needed to hear in order to relax into this. “I can’t tell you how bad I’ve wanted this.” He whispered. 

Ashton slipped one of his thighs between Michael’s as he nipped at the blonde’s neck. “I think I have some idea.” He groaned. “I never stopped thinking of the way you moaned my name that night, Michael.” The older man confessed, pulling back just enough to look Michael in the eye. “Wanted it again since the moment I walked in here.” 

The way Ashton was looking at him like he wanted to devour every inch of Michael, had the blonde melting. “Me too.” He crashed his lips against Ashton’s in another desperate kiss as he subconsciously rutted against the older man’s thigh. After the months Michael had spent feeling kind of lonely and touch-starved, the tiny amount of friction was enough to have him whimpering against Ashton’s lips. 

“Uh, you sound and taste even better than I remember.” Ashton muttered, pressing his thigh harder against Michael’s crotch to pull another little gasp from him. 

“Ashton! Fuck, please, I…” Michael’s head tipped back as he lost his fight to regain any sort of control over his own body. He was in Ashton’s control now, and Ashton knew it.  

“Come on…” Ashton coaxed, stepping back from Michael as he took both of his hands in his to pull him away from the kitchen counter. Michael whined high in his throat as he easily followed where Ashton led. 

Michael had hardly been into Ashton’s bedroom since he had helped him move some furniture the day he moved in; it had almost felt too intimate to go into Ashton’s personal space given the history between them. Seeing it now, cozy and dark with slithers of light coming through the window from the lamp posts outside, gave Michael a chill; it felt like Ashton was sharing a secret with him.

He followed Ashton’s lead dutifully all the way to the bed, accepting the deep kiss Ashton offered him as a reward, before the older man peeled his oversized sweater from his torso, breaking away to pull it over Michael’s head. Michael wanted more contact, but was disappointed when Ashton gently but decisively laid him down among the crisp sheets, instead. 

Ashton pulled his own t-shirt over his head in one fluid motion and flicked the lamp on his bedside table on, bathing the bed in a warm glow that made Michael feel like he was in a dream. 

Michael gazed in wonder at Ashton as he climbed into bed beside him, letting his eyes travel all over his arms and chest, taking in the extra tone and definition in his body since the last time he’d been able to stare at him like this; clearly, the yoga was doing more than just allowing Ashton to ‘find his centre’. 

He didn’t think he was anything special to look at, but he could see Ashton mirroring his own actions, eyes full of lust searching all over the parts of Michael’s body he could see, and even his gaze lingering on a part he couldn’t.

 “Ash,” Michael breathed out, surprising himself with how far gone he sounded already. “Take ‘em off, I wanna…” He trailed off as Ashton’s eyes snapped up to meet his own, holding eye contact for only a moment before he nodded almost imperceptibly, shuffling down the bed and taking hold of the waistband of Michael’s sweatpants. He returned his gaze to the pale man before him, biting his own lip as he allowed his fingertips to graze the skin of Michael’s hips. “These too?” Ashton questioned in a low voice as he brushed the fabric of Michael’s underwear.    

“Oh God, yeah”, Michael answered, squirming slightly from the infuriatingly gentle feel of Ashton’s touch. Ashton didn’t need to be told twice. Michael shivered with the feeling of being suddenly completely exposed as his sweatpants and underwear hit the carpet. Michael looked up at Ashton through his lashes, braced up on his knees in his black, ripped jeans. “You’d better be planning on losing those in the next second, Irwin.”

Ashton smirked as he undid his jeans. “And I mean your underwear, too!” Michael amended hastily, hungry to see if his memory of Ashton’s body was accurate. 

The dark-haired man’s smirk grew wider at Michael’s clarification, pulling his zip down and allowing his jeans to fall open, exposing only bare skin beneath. “Underwear?” 

Michael’s jaw dropped a little, prompting a deliciously filthy laugh from his roommate. “For the record, roomie - I don’t wear underwear.” Ashton winked as he yanked his jeans down as far as he could in his current position, before wriggling around to pull them off completely. Michael was pleased to see that, if anything, his memory had been selling Ashton short. Blame it on the alcohol. 

Michael didn’t know how to decide on what to do first; on one hand, he wanted to kiss Ashton non-stop for the rest of eternity, but on the other hand, if he didn’t get filled up in the next 10 minutes, he was definitely going to throw a tantrum. Luckily, he realised, it probably wasn’t up to him. All of his experience with Ashton so far told him that the older man would definitely be taking the lead, and this was definitely not a problem for Michael. Indeed, it had worked out very well for him last time, when his staff night out started at the bar and ended with Ashton eating him out like his life depended on it. 

“What are you thinking?” Ashton’s sultry voice broke through his thoughts, apparently wanting a coherent answer despite the fact that he had just begun to run his fingers up and down Michael’s sensitive, pale inner thighs. Michael let out a shuddery breath as he tried to use his words to tell Ashton he wanted anything and everything possible between them, right there and then. Perhaps the way his cock twitched when Ashton let one his nails run over a faded stretch mark right at the base of one of his thighs would speak for itself. 

“Maybe we should get right to, huh, gorgeous?” Ashton teased, withdrawing his touches to lean towards his bedside table. He pulled open the top drawer, fumbling only for a moment until he found what he was looking for. The lube and condom were dropped carelessly onto the mattress as he shut the drawer again, returning his attention to the man almost-beneath him immediately. “We’ve got plenty of time for all the other goods stuff; right now, I need to fuck you, and I know you need me to fuck you...don’t you?”

Michael wondered at what point in his life he had begun to communicate exclusively in whines, but Ashton seemed to be into it, so it didn’t matter. Michael watched impatiently as Ashton popped the top on the half-empty bottle of lube, wasting no time in squirting a generous amount onto two fingers on his right hand and pulling Michael’s leg fully around his hip with his left.

Michael’s heart jumped as much as his cock when Ashton breathed gently on the lube coating his fingers in an attempt to warm it slightly before he brought them straight down to Michael’s bare hole, rubbing over it in a firm circle.

Michael was glad he didn’t have the problem of not wanting his roommate to hear him getting fucked, anymore, as he let out his loudest, neediest whine yet. Ashton proved he had meant what he said about not taking their time with their second tryst, sinking his index finger inside Michael in one fluid motion. Before Michael had got to 10, Ashton was opening him up at a steady, delicious pace and was driving Michael crazy in record time. 

Michael wouldn’t claim to be a pornstar or anything, but he didn’t normally have a problem with stamina. If Ashton kept it up like this, though, Michael was in danger of coming before Ashton’s thick cock got any closer to him, and that was unacceptable.

“Ash, please, I can’t...I want, ne-your cock, please!” Michael cried out as Ashton probed his spot one last time before immediately acquiescing to Michael’s begging. Michael wriggled at the loss of Ashton’s fingers, but took comfort in the fact that Ashton was already tearing the condom packet open. 

Michael watched in awe-tinged anticipation as Ashton gave himself a couple of loose tugs once he had the condom on, before closing in on his lover once more, making sure Michael was laid comfortably on the pillows as he positioned himself over him. Michael clung to Ashton’s shoulders as he lined himself up, just resting the tip on Michael’s slick hole for a moment.

Ashton’s hazel eyes bore down into Michael’s green ones with a soft fire as he raised one hand to brush Michael’s fringe out of his flushed face. Michael let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding as Ashton pushed in - slowly, but all the way.. He felt like he was sinking and floating simultaneously, and wrapped his arms around Ashton’s neck to anchor himself here, with him, in this moment. 

Ashton pressed his face deep into Michael’s neck, kissing and sucking his way up towards Michael’s ear. “You good?” He murmured, shifting his hips a miniscule amount. “Yeah,” Michael breathed, “S’good, please…”.

With a final nip to Michael’s neck, Ashton pulled back slightly and began to move his hips properly, his cock sliding halfway out each time as he began to build a steady rhythm for them. Michael felt that perhaps in their sexual relationship so far, he was earning himself the reputation of a bit of a Pillow Princess, and so he began to move his own hips to meet Ashton’s building thrusts. Ashton groaned, long and loud, at the heightened sensations Michael’s movements brought, and they began to work together towards their goal. 

Suddenly, Ashton’s mouth was crowding his, his tongue sliding into his mouth in a glorious kiss that Michael never wanted to end. He couldn’t tell if it had been 10 minutes or 10 hours when he felt that familiar feeling begin to bubble in the lower stomach. Ashton had begun to up the pace of his thrusts, his hips occasionally stuttering as groans rumbled low in his throat, so Michael knew they were on the same page. 

“Ash,” He murmured in the millisecond between kisses. “Touch me, please, I’m getting so-” Michael broke off into a moan as Ashton was already wrapping a firm hand around his neglected cock, stroking it with determination and flicking his thumb over Michael’s dripping head. “You close, baby?” He murmured, eyes drifting over Michael’s face and the arousal present there. Michael was starting to writhe slightly and his head was flopping to the side on the pillow, but Ashton wanted his attention. With his free hand, he took Michael’s chin and turned his head to meet Ashton’s stare. The moment Michael was forced to meet his strong, heated gaze, his hazel eyes boring down on him with such intensity, Michael felt the kick of heat and it was all over. He cried out Ashton’s name and let out a series of curses and moans as he came, hard and hot over Ashton’s hand and their sweaty stomachs in equal measure.

Michael hadn’t finished himself before he felt Ashton taken by surprise, as well; his hips shooting forward to fill him to the hilt for the last time as he spilt into the condom, releasing Michael’s chin to brace himself through his orgasm on the pillows. “Michael, fuck!”

Michael regained enough control to watch Ashton’s face through hooded eyes as he came, moaning and unrestrained as he finished. He thought he looked heavenly. 

As they both fought to catch their breath, Ashton pulled out gingerly, releasing Michael from his grip as he moved away to remove and dispose of the condom. Michael wriggled in place, trying to get comfortable to recover from what he hoped would be the first of many. Ashton came back from the bin in the corner and flopped back down, alongside Michael now, lifting his arm to allow Michael to snuggle in under it when he wrapped it around him. “So…” He said, sounding casual as you like. “About the whole platonic, friendly, roommate thing…”

masterlist for the 5sos ficwriters collab  • my masterlist

#5sos writing collab #my writing #mermaidcashton #maluminspace #5sos fic #5 seconds of summer fic #5sos #5 seconds of summer #mashton #mashton fic #mashton smut #mashton fluff #Michael 5sos #ashton 5sos #Michael 5sos fic #ashton 5sos fic #ashton irwin #Michael clifford #Michael Clifford fic #ashton Irwin fic

[mypoisonedvine]

Can I please request the smut prompts "Does it hurt? Tell me to stop if it hurts." + "Let me show you how much I've missed you." + "Are you sure you've never done that before?" + "I wanna take my time with you tonight." with Jaskier x female reader, where it’s the first time, the reader has had sex, so she’s losing her virginity to the bard she loves. Thanks so much!! 💕

Aww this is so cute, the irony that this came in surrounded by the filthiest, dirtiest prompts ahdjghgashd this is so precious and it turned out even fluffier than i intended OOPS

As you finished your journey back home, you convinced yourself that you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself when you saw him again.  You’d been away for four months, helping your aunt care for her farm, and to say you thought of Jaskier every day would’ve actually been an understatement.  Still, you wanted to be proper about it and not come across as desperate, so you decided you’d give him a friendly hug, a peck on the cheek, and tell him that you’d missed him.  Very professional!  

But then you’d seen him waiting for you, and he’d seen you, and he smiled like you were the greatest thing he’d ever seen and you smiled back because he truly was the greatest thing you’d ever seen and that whole plan went out the window.

You lept off your horse and dashed to him, leaping into his arms.  He held you tightly and you’d forgotten how strong his arms were, how warm it felt to have him near.  You felt like you couldn’t ever hold him close enough to be satisfied.

“I’ve missed you dearly,” he told you, and you were so distracted by the smell of him (rosin, cedar, sweet wine, and honeysuckle) that you forgot to reply.  “I was afraid I’d forget what you looked like, you were gone so long.”

“Did you?” you asked.  He pulled back from the hug and examined you for a moment.

“I was afraid the absence had driven me mad, because I kept thinking to myself ‘there’s no way she was as beautiful as I’m imagining.’  But now that I look at you… I could’ve never imagined something this perfect,” he beamed.  You felt your face get hot.

“Jaskier, you’re too kind,” you replied softly.

“I’m really not.”

“You’re flattering me, because you’ve missed me so much,” you offered instead.

“Poetry, sure, but not flattery,” he winked.  You kissed him, and the second your lips touched his you knew that this was a different kiss.  Not nearly as desperate or happy as you would’ve predicted- not that it was undesperate or unhappy, it was just… thoughtful.  Contemplative?  You hadn’t realized that was an option for kisses.  You wondered if he noticed how different this kiss felt, too.

 As you rode your horses back home, you were able to catch him up on everything you’d done in four months, and he told you not only what he’d been up to, but all the gossip about what everyone else had been doing.

It was when you got inside that the conversation slowed down and stopped altogether.  You felt slightly anxious- mostly in a good way, but still- to the point that you had to talk yourself into kissing him again.  It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, because you definitely did, but you knew that this kiss would be different, maybe even more different than before.

As he returned the kiss, you felt his hands trail down your back.  He’d done that before, and you’d always liked it, but this time it was even more intense.  You felt an urge to lift your legs and wrap them around him, even though that would just pull you both to the ground.  Instead, you stepped back towards the nearby table and sat on it, which gave you the balance you needed to straddle him while you sat.  He moaned ever so slightly against your lips and it was the most gorgeous sound.

His hips pressed against you and you felt that he was hard-- more than ever, you craved him, and his body, and to feel his skin on yours.  In pursuit of that goal, you rubbed yourself against him and though it was all through clothes, his length was pressed against your folds and it was the best feeling and you had to moan aloud.

“Don’t do that,” he whimpered.

“You don’t like it?”

“I like it too much, my resolve can’t take it,” he explained.

“Maybe I want you to give in,” you replied with a smile, snaking a hand down his chest and finally rubbing your palm against the hardened shape through his trousers.  He moaned your name and you were sure no sound was sweeter.

“Let me show you how much I’ve missed you,” you requested softly.  He looked a little nervous.

“Are you sure?” he asked delicately. “I thought you were waiting for the right person.”

“You are the right person,” you smiled.

“...but are you sure?” he asked again, and you laughed, pulling him back into the kiss.

You were ready to do it on the table but he had other plans, carrying you to the bedroom and laying you on the bed.

His body weighing down yours was such a wonderful feeling, but it made it sort of hard to breath, so you rolled him over onto his back.  This gave you a wonderful idea; you slid down until you were hovering above the opening to his trousers, working on the lacing.  You reached inside and took his length into your hand, but as you opened your mouth, he stopped you.

“Oh, you don’t- you don’t have to do that,” he stuttered.

“I know, but I want to,” you smiled.  Before he could keep reminding you that you didn’t have to do this, you experimentally licked the head.  It didn’t really taste like anything, just skin, so you wrapped your lips around it and he made the softest, loveliest sound.

With a little patience and diligence, you were able to get most of him down, and though it was a peculiar feeling to have something so large in your mouth and pressing into your throat, you felt your own arousal growing just from feeling of pleasuring Jaskier.  He was certainly having a good time, as you could tell by the way his fingers weaved into your hair and his breathing was heavy and fast like he had just run a few kilometres.

“Are you sure you’ve never done that before?” he asked with a chuckle.  You smiled, pulling back.

“Yes, but I definitely want to do it some more." 

"I love that idea for another evening, but right now I really need to touch you," he explained.  Liking the sound of that, you came back up and let him undress you, though you wouldn’t let anything too exciting happen until you got him out his clothes as well.  You’d seen him undressed once before (an unfortunate, hilarious, and secretly sexy accident when you thought the inn room was empty), but you hadn’t gotten a good look, out of respect.  He was more muscular than his doublets would have one assuming, though the amount of chest hair was very much in line with the tufts always peeking out from his collar.

“You’re so perfect,” he hummed as he climbed back on top of you.  

“You can quit buttering me up, you’ve already got me naked,” you giggled.

“I apologize in advance for saying this but, you’re going to be a lot more buttered up by the time I’m done with you,” he smiled.

Your laugh was cut off by his kiss, and you felt your hips bucking up to try to reach his, but he pulled back.  This time it was his turn to slide down your body, and you felt your breathing pick up as he got closer and closer-

The second you opened your legs for him, his lips were wrapped around you.  His mouth was so warm on your skin, and his tongue explored areas you had no idea were so sensitive.

“Jaskier,” you moaned.  He hummed against you and it just made everything more intense.  It was a unique sensation, totally incomparable to anything you had experienced before.  Then his tongue pressed inside you.  And that was enough to get your back to arch off the bed, your hands pulling his hair.

“Fuck!” you yelped.  You felt him smile against you, and he even grazed against your bud with his teeth, but he didn’t stop. 

There was a burning heat in the pit of your stomach, and you felt like you had no concept of space or time, just your desire for him.

“Jaskier, please, please make love to me,” you begged.  He stopped, but didn’t move up.

“Don’t rush me: I want to take my time with you tonight,” he explained.

“See, that sounds nice and all but I’ve been waiting since I was a teenager for this so I’m getting pretty impatient,”“If you’ve been waiting all those years, you can wait another few minutes,” he frowned before getting back to work.  You begged and pleaded for more but he kept his resolve, only licking and sucking on you harder in response.

You knew you could come, but you wanted it to be with him inside you, properly.  You did your best to hold it back, though he certainly didn’t take any pressure off.

“Inside me, please, I need you,” you whimpered, and finally it was enough to get his attention.

“You’re sure about this?  I’d be perfectly satisfied if we stopped now, you don’t owe me anything,” he reminded.

“Perfectly satisfied?  Jask, your cock’s left a wet patch on the quilt,” you observed.

“I mean, I’d probably have to get myself off a few times to even have a chance at sleeping tonight, but I wouldn’t bother you about it,” he clarified with a smile.

“I want more.  I want as much of you as I can have,” you announced.

“Alright,” he whispered, and climbed back up until his face was just above yours.  You sort of hoped he would kiss you, but then again, the way he was looking at you was sort of unforgettably wonderful.

One hand reached down and you felt skin against yours, the tip of him prodding against your entrance.  You bit your lip, and finally, his hips moved forward.  He didn’t have to push in very far for you to feel resistance, your body struggling to accommodate him.

“Fuck,” he whispered, slowing down 

“More, please,” you demanded.

“Not yet.  Give it a moment,” he soothed.  As he moved deeper, you felt the soreness move into a burning feeling, and you whimpered.

“Does it hurt?  Tell me to stop if it hurts,” he rushed.

“It does hurt.  But please don’t stop,” you requested.

“I can't tell if you're being kinky or romantic," he smiled.

"I don't see why those have to be mutually exclusive," you smiled back.

He moved in deeper until he was inside you completely and you had to force yourself to breathe slowly to manage the discomfort but it was worth it, not only for the way you felt but the way he was looking at you.  All he had to do was move back and in again and already the pain washed away and all that was left behind was pleasure.  You’d never felt so full, and even as you still felt so much pressure against your walls, it was just the right amount to make you realize why people were always going on and on about this.

“Julian,” you moaned without even really intending to.

“Gods, I don’t think I’ll last very long with you feeling like this and looking like that and talking like that,” he laughed.

“I don’t mind if you don’t last long,” you smiled, “I have nothing to compare it to.”

“Yeah well, I’m not really shooting for ‘she liked it because she was too inexperienced to know it sucked’ here,” he sighed.

“Just move, please,” you whimpered.  He obeyed, but reached down to rub at your clit while he did it.  You yelped, but melted under his touch.  His thumb pressed harder against the bud and you felt your inner muscles clench around him.  He winced.

“Fuck,” he whispered.  So you did it again.  And that must have been the end of his tolerance for teasing, because he sat up, draped your legs over his shoulders, and thrusted into you roughly.  You cried out but it was good, it was so so good, and you wanted more.  Your prayers were answered instantly as he built a deep but not-quite-rushed pace.  You threw your head back and gripped the covers for stability.

“So gorgeous,” he mumbled, almost to himself.

“Please don’t stop,” you whimpered, though you weren’t too worried about that happening.  You just needed to be completely sure that he would take you to the end of this, which you felt yourself rapidly approaching.

“You’ll come just from this?”

“Yes, Jaskier, please,” you sobbed.

“Of course I won’t stop, darling.  Fuck, I don’t think I could if I wanted to.”

“It feels so good,” you moaned.  Everything overwhelmed you: his moans, his hands on your hips, his movements inside you.  You hadn’t realized you were holding your breath, having gone totally silent, until it all released at once and you came hard enough that you couldn’t tell if your eyes were shut or if your vision had just gone blank.  You felt him pull out of you and you almost protested, but then you got to watch his face as he came, somehow a mixture of tensed and relaxed even though that sounds impossible.  He thrusted against nothing as he spilled onto your stomach and you felt your breathing start to slow back to normal.

And he looked at you, and you looked back at him, and you both started laughing.  And you sat up and kissed him, and you kept smiling and laughing.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips.

“Let’s do it again,” you replied.  Because what better way to say ‘I love you too’ than that?

#jaskier x reader #my writing #jaskier smut

[op-peccatori]

The Spider and the (Butter)fly | MLQC Lucien | Kinktober: October 20th

Prompts: Deep-throating || Roleplay || Object Insertion 

THE THIRST IS ALIVE! Submission number 5 for @alloveroliver​’s Kinktober celebration!!!! 

Fandom: Mr Love: Queen’s Choice

Pairing: Reader/Lucien

Rating: 18+

Word count: 3700

Warnings/tags: explicit smut and language, oral sex, deep-throating, fingering, role-play, teacher and (college) student 

a/n: I forgot they were role-playing halfway into it. also I made a moodboard!!

You stand outside the office, eyes squeezed shut and folders clutched to your chest with nervousness.

There aren’t many people in the building at this time, but it isn't completely deserted. There are students who pass you by, some flashing you sympathetic smiles and others not seeing you at all. A professor looks quite puzzled at the sight of you. 

Technically, you shouldn’t be here. But, the thought of going back home with your failure terrifies you and you have to at least try to avoid that. So you’ll stand here for the next two days if that’s what it takes, and use whatever weapon is available to you. 

With a quick glance around, you whip out a compact mirror to check on the state of your lipstick, deciding it was a good idea to forego the highlighter after all.

The echo of his footsteps reaches you before he does, and you look up at him with a sheepish smile. “Professor!” He blinks at you, giving you a quick once over, the suspicious glint in his eye immediately giving way to comprehension. . You keep your expression innocent, even as fear makes your heart dance to a terrible tune.

“Ms. ___. Still here?” he asks. His expression is neutral, but slight exasperation bleeds into heliotrope eyes. His dark hair stands out against the pale walls, his thin lips pursing at having to delay his departure for the day.

“Yes, Professor. I was uh, wondering if I could talk to you about something,” you say meekly. Your eyes remain glued to his cap-toe derbies, still a shiny black after the long day. It says a lot about the man himself. You have never seen him lose his composure, not even when a student tries their best to get under his skin - which is uncommon. Most students adore him, or as you like to put it, they're happy to linger in his web. You can't blame them.

There's an intimidating man behind the smiling eyes. Brilliant and charismatic yes, but there's an unnerving quality to him, in your opinion. Being in his presence, on your own, is intoxicating. It always leaves you on edge, feeling guilty for the filthy thoughts it brings. You glance up at him for a moment only to see him peering down at you, eyes cloudy with tiredness behind clear glass.

He nods and goes into his office, closing the door behind him. You wait for a whole minute before it opens again. 

“Come in.” You watch him take a seat behind his desk as you walk through the door. His office is always clean, his things stacked neatly and in their places. His jacket is draped on the back of his chair, leaving him in a simple white button-up, sleeves rolled up to the forearms. You’re very aware of your own carefully selected outfit, the makeup applied with painful precision, the confidence you weaved with your own tongue in anticipation of this meeting. He barely gives you a look, however, and it leaves disappointment swirling in your stomach. “Take a seat.” 

You hurry to do so, sinking down into the chair across from him, the safety of his desk between you both. The first two buttons of his shirt are popped open, and you have to put more effort into not staring at the patch of milky skin than you'd like to admit. A glimpse of his collarbones is enough to dry your mouth, and you curse yourself. 

“I’m so, so sorry, Professor. I know it’s getting late–“ He waves of your words with a careless wag of his hand, and your eyes dart to his long fingers before you exercise some of the self-control you pretend to have. 

“Yet, you’re here anyway. So, what can I do for you, Ms. ____?” He laces his fingers together and rests his chin on them. You’re struck silent by the exquisite picture he makes, for a long moment. 

“It’s about my grade,” you say weakly. He does not look surprised at all. “Professor, I’m not the first student to come talk to you about this, I know. But I really, really must ask if you can reconsider.”

“I understand, Ms. ____. However, maybe you should’ve studied harder instead of giggling during class with the captain of the basketball team. Perhaps then you wouldn’t have to be here, hmm?” He doesn’t even look at you, seemingly studying an open file in front of him. 

You sputter, a mortified blush painting your cheeks. It’s true, you usually partner with Kyle in his class. Cute, funny, charming Kyle who always tries to make you laugh and succeeds most of the time. But to think Professor Lucien has noticed it enough to point it out like this...it’s embarrassing, yet something to consider. Once you're home.

Ugh, and he’s getting snappy. Maybe it was a bad idea to try this now. It doesn’t seem like it’s going to be any easier to convince him just because the man is tired. 

“It’s just – I did work really hard on this assignment. I don’t understand how I...” 

He sighs heavily at the flustered response. “It’s not the end of the world. You still have time to make up for it.” 

“But Professor, it's still going to affect my overall–“ He snaps the file shut. 

“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do. Just work harder next time.” The tone of finality freezes your heart. You feel lost, scrambling to think of something, anything to persuade him.  How do you convince someone like him? Unfazed, poised, formidable are the words thrown around when he's the topic of conversation. You're an average student barely passing his class. The idea comes to you in a burst of desperation, something you laughed at when Willow suggested it as a joke, something you only dare to think of in daydreams, where he usually comes to you with seductive words and clever fingers as his primary weapons. You never do resist too much even in those reveries, always too quick to drop your skirts, eager to feel him touch you where you allow no one else.

But you’ve come here with a plan; if you think back to all the times you’ve caught him looking at you, it doesn’t seem that ridiculous. You know the difference between wishful thinking and reality; there's no way you imagined the cold glare flashing on his face when he saw you giggling at Kyle's antics, his lingering stares when you wear that white sundress. Or maybe you’re just flattering and digging yourself a cold grave...but it’s worth a try. 

Your back straightens, shoulders rolling back in an effort to relieve tension.

“Nothing?” The way his brow cocks should be branded as illegal. 

“Ms. ___?” 

“There’s really nothing I can do?” you ask, voice dropping low and suggestive; you bite your lip, gazing at him beseechingly. He swallows, following the motion and you smell blood. “I'll do...anything you ask, Professor.” 

“Ms. ___.” His voice is sharp with a warning. But he hasn’t asked you to leave. His eyes grow darker, framed by inky bangs and square frames that he takes off to fold and place on his desk.

“Professor Lucien, please.” You stand up, eyes wide and all too ready. “Just-I’ll do anything, I will! Whatever you want.” 

He looks at you slack-jawed, your breath quick and anxious. You’ve crossed a line, you know that. But will it get you what you want? The question of what you really want grows more muddled with every second, distorted by the flashes of darkness slipping past his composure and your own desire.

He watches you from beneath thick lashes. “Anything, you say?” You nod with slight hesitation. “Do you realize what you’re suggesting?” 

“I do.” 

His eyes slip down to the bare skin of your thighs before he, with visible effort, shifts them back to your face. “Ms. ___, I understand that you’re desperate. It makes us do stupid things. Which is why I’ll forget this ever happened. Now, leave before I...find myself less inclined to be so kind.” His eyes close in a clear dismissal. But he doesn't look angry, he looks like a man who can barely control himself, barely restrain himself from touching something he shouldn't.

He’s going to have to let you be the judge of that.

Nodding to yourself, you don’t say a word as you walk to the door, your thoughts assembling in place like a round of Tetris that you’ve just won. You hear him sigh and lean back in his chair, thinking you've come to your senses. You don’t say a word when you turn the lock, your heart pounding in your chest, the want now outweighing the desperation. 

There’s a heavy silence in the room, punctuated by more glimpses of something wild behind his mask.

“Alright then. Come here.” Your stomach clenches at the command; his pupils are blown, his hand patting his thigh. He rolls his chair back to put some space between him and the desk as you walk over to him, this time to stand in front of him. Your knees brush his. “Sit.” 

He parts his legs so you can sit delicately on his thigh, his hand coming to rest on your waist. Neither of you looks away from the other. You feel as if you’ve walked into the spider’s web, ready to be consumed. 

“You’re a lot bolder than I thought, Ms. ___,” he murmurs, husky enough to send flashes straight to your groin. The smirk curving along his mouth is knowing, and your hand curls over his shoulder, broad and real. "I never took you for a risk-taker."

“I’m...sorry, Professor. I had to try,” you say, timid and unsure but privately turned on. You’re entranced by the effect his low chuckle has on his face, squirming slightly on your seat.

“It’s not a bad thing,” he assures you. But he doesn’t do anything. His other hand just rests on your leg, rubbing small circles into your skin, your mind going into overdrive at the touch. “Just pleasantly surprising. Tell me...are you really that desperate for a better grade?"

You can't bring yourself to form a response.

"We could find another way. Or maybe, just this once, I could change it..." he suggests, withdrawing his touch, much to your displeasure. "You're a hard-worker, I know that."

"No! No, Professor, I...I want to. Work for it. Like this."

"I see." He looks pleased by your hidden admission.

You adjust yourself on his lap, watching him watch you. He's patient as he weaves a net of desire around you, but you don't feel trapped. He waits for you to make the first move, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering chaotically at the thought of finally touching him.

Your hand cups his cheek, thumb tracing a sharp cheekbone. It traces the slight curve of his lip, and then you lean in, breath stuttering as you press your lips to his chastely. And again and again, in light brushes - it feels like the slow rush of a sweet drug, a fog settling around your thoughts before his fingers tangle in your hair, and his tongue begins to chart the lines of your mouth. You moan and your lips part to invite him in. You taste coffee and something that is very intimately him, flicking your tongue against his with increasing enthusiasm. His arm winds tighter around your waist as he holds you to him, plundering your mouth with more greed than the pirates of legend. 

You have no thoughts to spare for grades, only for ways to make him touch you more.

"You taste so sweet, Ms. ___," he breathes, hot and damp on your lips. Your teeth graze his lower lip in response. 

He turns you around so you’re facing the desk, now sitting between his legs, his firm chest pressed to your back and buries his nose in your hair. He inhales deeply, a low sound hitting the back of his throat. Your legs are wide open, falling on either side of his, his arm around your stomach strong to keep you upright against him.

The vulnerability crawls in, at your legs spread wide like this, the Professor's body moulding itself to yours, caging you in his arms.

Professor Lucien tugs down the neckline of your top low enough to unveil your breasts, adorned with baby pink velvet that he clearly fancies if his pleased hum is any indication or the curious swipe of his finger against the soft material. He fondles a breast experimentally, just to hear you moan, and pulls it out of the cloth. A roll of your nipple has you arching into him with a whimper, your ass dragging against his crotch. You don’t miss the quick suck of his breath, the helpless buck of his erection into you before he’s back in control. 

The tiny crack in his composure thrills you, makes you want to turn around and roll your hips until you make him come in his pants, until he calls you by name and all the other sweet nicknames you've imagined him saying. You know you can. But you’re not in charge here, you remind yourself. The soft but lethal brush of his fingers on the inside of your thighs help with the reminder. 

“Tell me, Ms. ___, did you select this outfit just for me?” he asks, voice surprisingly even, his breath warm against the shell of your ear. His hand caresses the soft curve of your waist, relaxing you. His hand bunches up your skirt carefully, and you jerk in his grasp when he cups your mound. “Shh. No need to be nervous. I won’t hurt you.” His palm grinds into you and your hips buck away, but you have nowhere to go. “I asked you a question.” 

“Ah, Professor. I...I thought you might like it,” you admit with flaming cheeks. He laughs into your neck, nuzzling it gently. 

“I do. Very thoughtful of you. And convenient,” he purrs and you’re confused for a second. “So you like being a little tease, do you?”

“I-Professor-“ you whimper, struggling harder when he presses firmly on your clit, just for a second. He sighs deeply next to your ear, faux disappointment evident in his exhale. 

“Use your words, Ms ___. Do you enjoy tempting me, testing the limits of my control in every class? Tormenting me with little peeks of the temptress you keep hidden?” 

"No, no..."

"Liar," he breathes, his tone more wicked than angry. "But I'm flattered you went to such lengths just to have an excuse to do this."

As an accompaniment to the disclosure, his finger slips past velvet and slick folds at the same time his other hand covers your mouth, muffling your loud cry at the intrusion. He fingers you deftly, a long finger sliding in and out of your tight heat as you squirm and moan on his lap. “Pretty, pretty girl. You’re so wet already. How often have you thought about this?” 

He plays you like a devoted musician, a tireless conductor to the orchestra of your combined passions. It’s a delicious burn, and you want to share the sheer agony of it with him. The second he slides a finger into your mouth, intent on imitating the one down below, your lips latch onto it. You suck softly, tongue caressing and gliding, his soft groan needy and weak in your ear. Arousal thrums through you harder, the power you have over this extraordinary man making you tremble, giving you strength and ideas.

“Professor –“ you moan and he bites the lobe of your ear, another finger sliding in to torment you.

“I’ve thought about it too, you know. Bending you over my desk, taking you, tasting you, marking you.” His voice is gruff with desire and you moan incoherently as his fingers curl, rubbing your velvety walls roughly. You clutch at his wrist helplessly, tilting your neck and widening your legs to give him more access. All you can do is come apart in his arms, inch by inch, your fingers twitching with the urge to help him get you where you need to be. Once again displaying his ostensible talent for telepathy, his thumb presses down on your swollen nub. "Unraveling you."

You can just barely process his words, the pleasure coiled so tightly it's on the verge of combustion, aided by his thumb working your clit slowly, then furiously as you rock frantically into his hand. Your orgasm bursts with blinding stars behind your eyelids, your body bowing and writhing as if you can barely fit in it, before you go boneless in his arms. “Brilliant. That was beautiful, Ms. ___," he coos, fingers sliding out of you, settling your skirt back in place. Your head tilts back to lean on his shoulder and you watch him lick his fingers clean with a satisfied smile. His erection is hard against your ass, and you want to touch it, spoil him. 

“How do I taste, Professor?” you ask, your smile coy.

The answering look in his eyes is predatory. “Divine.”

Turning to face him completely, you end up straddling his thigh, and the firm pressure of muscle against your sensitive sex sends something electric climbing through your veins. It scrambles your brains for a moment and you have to pull yourself together, allowing him to place a lingering kiss on your lips.

“Professor,” you plead. He looks like...well, like someone who just spent some time with his mouth glued to yours, with messy hair and your favourite lipstick on his mouth. It’s a good look on him. “Professor, tell me what to do.”

“Are you sure?” 

"Please. I want to touch you, please you.” You palm the bulge at his crotch, delighting in the way he hisses. Your mouth quirks up before you continue. “I’ll work hard. I’ll be a good student.” 

Lucien swallows heavily. “Get on your knees.” You’re more obedient than you’ve ever been in your life, slipping off his thigh to kneel between his legs. “Unzip me.” He lifts his hips to help you out, and you’re embarrassed to feel how your mouth waters when you pull his briefs down to slip his cock out, licking your lips at the sight of the glistening tip. 

You look up at him through your lashes, your finger tracing a line down his shaft.

“I've wanted this for so long, Professor,” you whisper before giving a slow lick along his length. And it's way better than the fantasy, you think, pulling the head into your wet mouth, your tongue circling and rubbing. He groans, petting your head gently.

“Alright then. Hands behind your back.” Your eyes fly to him in surprise and he gives you a lascivious smirk. “This isn’t a reward. You’re working for something here, sweetheart. You need to work hard.” You try to nod as best as you can, clasping your hands behind your back. “Good girl. Now put that mouth to good use.” 

Each bob of your head slides his swollen cock deeper into your mouth, your tongue running up and down the stiff length. You find joy in each hiss and grunt you manage to coax out, pleasure in every praise he showers upon you. Your jaw aches but you soldier on, determined to see your unruffled professor break. He looks far from it right now, the vein on his neck popping and his muscles coiled with iron, barely holding onto the leash he keeps himself on.

“Deeper,” he rasps. You try to relax your jaw,   tensing up when his cock brushes the back of your throat. The next slide of your mouth on him is slow, trying to get used to the sensation. Your eyes water and he smiles fondly at the sight of you struggling. “Need some help, baby girl?” You whimper and he reaches over to cup the back of your head, twisting your hair around his hand. He murmurs a warning softly before he snaps his hips into your mouth and you gag, spit running down your chin as he starts fucking your mouth with swift thrusts, cursing and praising you in turns. His eyes glaze over with the force of his pleasure, the breathy sounds escaping him lewd enough to fuel a hundred wet dreams. “Good girl.   Relax your jaw. Yes-yes, just like that. I’ve spent hours thinking about fucking your pretty mouth, you know? It’s better than I ever imagined.”

The sound that leaves his lips when you cup his balls is obscene, and your scalp stings from how tightly he pulls your hair. Your tongue massages the underside of his cock, and you swallow, pulling him deeper. He gasps, a filthy curse escaping and you're going to remember it forever. “I’m – coming.” You brace yourself as he stills deep in your throat and comes in heated spurts. His thrusts get weaker as he keeps coming and you choke as you try to swallow all of it. Lucien pulls out of your mouth, nimble fingers hurriedly pumping the last of his seed out onto your lips and chin instead of inside your occupied mouth.

You’re still coughing when he hands you a glass of water, pulling you up and back onto his lap as you drink gratefully. He wipes your face clean with wet tissues, thorough and gentle, and you lean against him, drained. His fingers massage your scalp tenderly, pulling a content sigh from you.

“Hmm. I believe that’s an A+,” he declares, making you laugh and wack him on the shoulder. He kisses you gently, achingly slow, breath mingling as his face hovers close to yours. His expression is open, affectionate, his eyes soft with love and contentment. Your lips still feel raw when you kiss the underside of his jaw, curling up in the enclosure of his arms with satisfaction seeped into your bones. “Are you okay?” 

You can’t hide a smile at his concerned tone, planting a quick kiss on his cheek. He tilts his head to brush his lips at the corner of your mouth, your cheek, your temple. “Mhm. Just tired.” 

“Let’s go home, baby girl. I’ll cook.” 

#alloverkinktober #mlqc #mlqc lucien #mlqc fanfic #mlqc smut #mlqc xu mo #mlqc x reader #mr love queen's choice #mr love: queen's choice #love and producer