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waywardstation · 2 months

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Cold to the Touch

Phione Akari AU

As a phione, it's hard for Akari to find anything fun or entertaining to do. But she still manages, even if it's at Ingo's expense.

I wrote this after I got a request to write about something for this AU with lower stakes and let Akari have some fun, after putting out several segments that were pretty stressful and sad for the characters. And if possible, to have her prank Ingo. I did my best hopefully!!!

OR read here on AO3!

AND check out the Phione Akari AU masterpost!

Enjoy!

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There were many, many things Akari hated about being a Phione.

Many changes. Many limitations. Many problems.

But this was not one of them.

In fact, she found that this was quite fun.

“And if I could have two of those leek salves, and a half-bag of those dried apricorns?”

Choy grabbed two small purple bottles and began weighing out a bag of the nut fruits as Ingo browsed the wares at the storefront, pointing out what he wanted to purchase. While there wasn’t much room with everything out on display, he did his best to keep himself under the protection of the storefront’s awning — the rain was coming down hard today.

And as much as he disliked the idea of dragging all of this stuff around with him in the coastlands, especially in weather like this, he had promised Akari he would actually take better care of himself out there now while continuing his search.

No more sleeping on the ground, or against trees and boulders. No more living off whatever he picked off of bushes and trees. No more foregoing needed sleep for a few more hours of searching. No more sacrificing his health when he didn’t need to.

“Anything else for you today?” Choy asked as he placed them down next to the other items that had been requested.

“Oh, one last thing; do you perhaps have a lightweight roll or sleeping mat?” Ingo searched past the shopkeeper at the storage shelves behind him, leading Choy to look over his shoulder — he could see what looked like a few different sleeping rolls. “Like the ones the Ginkgo Guild members are equipped wITh-!”

An awkward jerk as Ingo scrunched his neck into his shoulder, crashing the sentence with an odd jump. A subsequent squeak from somewhere in his coat collar, quiet enough for only Ingo to hear.

“Everything alright?” Choy looked back from the shelves, giving him a look halfway between confusion and concern.

“I uh, apologize. Unfortunately, too many nights sleeping on the ground has left me with a sore spine, is all.” Ingo tentatively answered, rubbing at his neck. “It… pulls sometimes. I’m sure you can now understand my need for an adequate sleeping mat.”

“Oh yes, of course,” Nodding his head, Choy stepped away from the shelf he had been approaching. “I understand! These rolls might be too thin; I have some thicker ones in the back that might be better for that. I’ll be right back with one.”

Ingo watched the man disappear behind the rows of shelves, making sure he was out of earshot before he hooked his lapel with a finger and pulled it back.

“Miss Akari, please!” He whispered into the collar of his coat. He could not see her and he was too saturated with rainwater to feel where she was, but he knew she was in there somewhere; he could hear her snickering. “You know I’m not fond of that!”

“Phi-phi!” She retorted. While Ingo had no idea what she was saying, the bubbly tone of amusement in her voice indicated she wasn’t taking him seriously.

He was sure it was because of a phione’s adaptability to water and its strange thermoregulatory characteristics — Professor Laventon had said something about it — but whenever it rained, Akari became just as cold as the falling water that mixed with her. Like ice cold. It turned her little flippers into something more like the freezing hands of death. And she unfortunately found it funny to -

“AH!” The frigid touch of Akari’s ribbon-like appendage (now more comparable to the frozen fingers of a froslass) against his neck made him flinch before forcing himself back down into a whisper. “Miss Akari-!”

“Warden?” Choy called out from the back. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Not to worry, it’s simply an instance of my neck bothering me again!” Ingo lied through his teeth. One last quick whisper into his coat collar, towards quiet giggling. “Please-”

“Alright, I’ve got a couple here that you can look at!” Returning from the back shelves, Choy heaved a bundle of various mats onto a display table with a grunt. “All varying degrees of sturdiness, but maybe you’ll like one of them.”

Ingo browsed the mats, pressing down on the different materials and lifting edges to test heaviness. Some were too firm to be kind to his back, and some were too bulky to comfortably carry. None of them seemed very suitable for him, honestly...

As he browsed, Ingo couldn’t help but notice he was actually being left alone. No icy jabs, no startling coldness. Maybe Akari was listening to him now. it was nice not feeling the freezing hands of death grasping at the back of his-

“GHh-!” Ingo jerked awkwardly again, tucking his chin down against his chest and hissing through his teeth. He spoke too soon.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like a thicker mat? Or at least a neck roll for support? It seems…” Choy stalled for a moment, filtering his words into something kinder. “Bad.”

“No no, I can assure you it’s temporary! It’s simply rather distracting, ” Ingo emphasized the last word quite forcefully, rubbing at his neck. “I’m confident that’s the last time it’ll happen.”

“Maybe at least have the medical corps look at it before you go.” Choy did not sound any less concerned.

“Perhaps I will make that detour,” Ingo brushed it off kindly. He was going to have to make this quick, it seemed Akari was intent on embarrassing him in public just for some amusement. “I apologize for having you drag all of these mats out, but I may have to go with one of the previous, lighter alternatives.”

“Not a problem,” Choy pushed the heavier rolls aside and turned to pull down one he had initially suggested; a simple green one, tied with wound rope. “This mat’s good then?”

“I believe so,” Already searching through the inner pockets of his coat for money, Ingo only gave the roll a passing glance to confirm. “I think that’s everything I need.”

“Sounds good,” Choy lugged the mat up onto the table, bunching it with everything else he had requested and quickly reevaluating it all. “Alright, together that’ll be seven-thousand six-hundred.”

“Mm-hmm,” Head down, Ingo began counting out what he had in his hands. He should have enough…

“Oh, but wait-”

Thinking something was wrong, Ingo glanced up only to see Choy setting a small box on top of his pile of supplies.

“Just a few honey cakes, no extra charge.”

Ingo blinked, not catching the sudden tiny squeak from within his coat. “No charge? Thank you, and please understand I am not at all ungrateful for the offer, but… I’d like to know why?”

“Well, because I appreciate your business!” Short and simple, Choy clasped his hands together.

Ingo sized up the box; it wasn’t terribly big, but it certainly wasn’t small either. Truely, it was a kind gesture, but to him, all he saw was more cargo to lug around, more weight to tug at his back. And he wasn’t sure he could keep it from becoming soggy in the rain, anyways.

And he couldn’t help but feel that it was perhaps a pity gesture; he knew Choy had seen him practically drag himself through Jubilife’s gates the other day.

“I greatly appreciate it, but I couldn’t in good conscience, really.” Ingo gave Choy an apologetic, flat-lined smile, putting up a hand. “Those are your wares! Please, keep them.”

Another small squeak, and this time Ingo heard it. He preemptively placed his hand over his neck just before she could touch him, her icy flippers patting his fingers instead.

“Then take it as a gift of support, please.” Choy extended a more genuine tone now, he confirmed what Ingo had suspected about it being a pity gesture. “I know what all of these supplies are for, Warden. You’ve been doing so much to find Akari, and this weather definitely isn’t making things any easier for anyone right now. And I can empathize; all this sudden rain’s been making it hard for Yui today. She can’t seem to shake this terrible sickness that won’t leave her alone, and it’s been really difficult lately to-”

“AAa -HaAH-!” Ingo interrupted with an embarrassingly loud shout, suddenly jerking forward with scrunched shoulders as both hands frantically clamped against his neck. “Just- Ahck! Stop it-!”

“...I’m sorry?” Staring at Ingo in bewilderment, the appalled tone of Choy’s voice was painfully shame-inducing. The heavy atmosphere pressed down on Ingo’s shoulders, the rain in his coat suddenly pulling down on him like heavy weights.

Oh Arceus. Did he really just laugh while Choy was empathizing with him over his sick wife?

Did he really just say stop it??

“Ahem!” Ingo cleared his throat gratuitously into a fist, his face burning like fire as he realized what he just did. “M-my deepest apologies for that! Illness is terribly unfortunate, and I hope for nothing but a quick recovery for your poor wife! I absolutely didn’t mean to- Please, excuse me for a moment!”

“Right.” Choy crossed his arms, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed as Ingo stiffly hurried out into the rain, rushing around the right corner of the store.

Reaching the bridge that led to the housing units, Ingo stopped and made sure no one else was around to hear. Reaching into his coat collar and fishing Akari out of it, he held her close to his (still very red) face with one hand, sternly shaking a finger at her with the other. “Miss Akari!” Don’t- don’t do that! Just because I said no cold shocks, that doesn’t mean you can start tickling m-!”

“Phi-phi!” She squeaked back at him avidly. He didn’t understand, but with her troubled eyes and tone, he could clearly see she wasn’t laughing anymore — she probably realized how inappropriate the timing of that was, regardless of how accidental it was.

Ingo’s frown pulled, his eyes narrowing from behind the raindrops now dripping off his hat’s brim. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, Miss Akari, but I recall you fervently requesting me to keep you both concealed and inconspicuous while in Jubilife. I’d say this is making it difficult to do either!”

“Phi!” Freezing cold flippers wrapped around his thumb as she hugged it tightly. She often did that when expressing gratitude or apologetics to him, an extension of hugging him as a whole. Her guilty eyes indicated it was clearly the latter reason, this time.

“It’s alright, just please, please, don’t repeat it. I would very much like to complete this transaction in peace.” Ingo accepted the apology. He had planned for that to be the end of it and moved his hand to place her back in his coat collar, but she squeaked at him again.

When Ingo pulled her back, she made an exaggerated motion that resembled eating, holding her flippers up and mimicking taking bites out of something.

He couldn’t make a guess until she pointed at the side of the general store, then repeated the motion again.

“The honey cakes? You wanted those honey cakes?”

“Phi!” She clapped her flippers together, celebrating his correct guess.

“Just one of those is bigger than your head; it takes you two days to consume one.” Ingo shook his head. “And there are several in that box; I’m afraid they’ll go to waste.”

Akari made a pleading motion and held her flippers together up at him with big eyes, but otherwise she grew quiet, and Ingo’s features softened.

She’s had it very hard. He knew that. These past few weeks had been terrible and frustrating and confusing. And while the last three days had certainly been much happier with his revelation over who she was, it still… it didn’t have much in it to be happy about in general, and he knew Akari was depressed with her limitations.

The giggles she had let out in his coat earlier was the first time he had really heard her laughing or having fun in a long while (even if it had been at his expense… but really, as a phione, there weren’t many things she could do to entertain herself right now).

So what was the harm in getting her some simple sweets? Giving her something to be happy about?

Ingo’s words left his mouth in a cloud of breath, visible in the frigid air. “Alright, Miss Akari. I will get them for you.”

“Phi!” She squeaked, a little surprised, but clearly happy. She hugged her flippers around his thumb again in a gesture of gratitude as he brought her back to his shoulder, tugging the lapel of his coat back.

“But please do your best to finish them! And please, no more cold touches. Or tickling.” He added as she wiggled back into her spot, amongst the folds of his tunic’s hood. “I would not like to laugh at that poor young man’s sick wife for a second time.”

The subsequent giggling at his shoulder was his only response as he smoothed his coat collar back down, but that was enough for him.

Now. To somehow find the strength to go back and face Choy. Ingo took a deep breath, steeling himself as he turned to walk back around the corner of the building. Ugh, he could already feel the blush of shame returning.

“I’d like to once again apologize for that outburst,” Rounding the corner, Ingo took his place back before Choy, who still appeared rightfully upset; arms now crossed, the store owner seemed much less amiable now. “Truely, I didn’t mean to laugh during such a sensitive subject.”

“Was that the fault of your sore neck as well?” Choy reached up to take his glasses and clean a few stray raindrops off them with his hanten. His words were painfully flat.

“Ahah… uhm, no,” Ingo coughed. “My mind simply reminded me of very ill-timed joke. Very unfortunate timing.”

Choy didn’t really believe him, Ingo could see it in his eyes. Regardless, he adjusted his glasses back on his nose, and went to grab up Ingo’s items, sliding them across the display table. “Unfortunate indeed. Here are your items, Warden.”

“Oh, thank you. Though also, before I depart-” Ingo held out the money he owed, but began searching through his coat pockets again. “I believe I’ve had a track change; I would like those honey cakes after all. But please, allow me to pay for it in full; it’s the least I could do. And again, I do hope your wife recovers swiftly.”

It seemed Choy’s hardened features softened a little as Ingo dropped the money into his hand.

#the segment in which Akari accidentally makes Ingo insult Choy's sick wife #Phione Akari AU #submas #ingo #warden ingo #akari #pokemon akari #pokemon legends arceus #pokemon legends #PLA #pokemon #pokemon fanfic #pokemon fanfiction #waywardstationfanfic

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oncasette · 2 years

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what you deserve

KINKTOBER XI — jason dean x fem!reader

summary: 0.6k.

“kneel?”

“You heard me,” he grunts, shifting down where he’s sitting so that his knees spread wider. It makes his legs seem even longer, somehow, and his thighs thicker.

or, the one where jd can feel you staring. at his boots.

warnings: boot worship, degradation

masterlist | taglist

JD’s docs have seen a lot. They’re scuffed and worn and a little sticky on the bottom.

Still. You can’t stop thinking about what one of them would feel like between your legs.

“Is there a reason you keep looking at my boots?” he says suddenly, breaking you from your trance. Even as he’s sitting in your bedroom, he’s fully dressed. Trench coat, flannel, the works.

“I- uhm-“ you clear your throat. “Just zoning out, I guess.”

“What about the drool then?” he asks, kicking his toe to the side so that it brushed against your ankle.

“I’m not— There’s no drool,” you say as you wipe your bottom lip with the back of your hand.

“Sure,” he says. He’s silent for a while after that. Allowing the soft crackle of the radio to fill in the space your conversation had left. What, with the likings of Big Fun and The Cure; just something to pass the time.

It’s an awkward silence, mostly, with the tension that’s built up in your throat. All you can think about is his stupid shoes and the fact that he probably knows how much it’s affecting you right now and, christ, just stop looking at his boots for two seconds.

“You want to do me a favor?” he exhales.

“What?” you ask.

“Kneel.”

He says it so suddenly you think you’ve heard him wrong. Think you’ve fallen asleep and this is some wildly lucid dream, that your friend hadn’t just asked you to kneel for him in the middle of your living room.

“Kneel?”

“You heard me,” he grunts, shifting down where he’s sitting so that his knees spread wider. It makes his legs seem even longer, somehow, and his thighs thicker.

“I- uh-“

“Oh, c’mon. I’m just giving you what you want,” he teases as he nods towards the floor.

You’re not sure why you listen to him, or why you find yourself sinking down to your knees in front of him. Why you’re straddling his boot, spreading your knees as far out as they’ll go so that your pussy is making contact with the leather. Not direct, though. Not with the thin layer of your panties under the skirt fanning out around your waist.

“That’s it,” he says, shifting the toe of the shoe up so that it bumps your cunt with more force.

Your hands grapple around the fabric of his jeans as your hips start grinding down on his boot.

“You can do better than that,” he chastises, forcing you to speed up your movements. Just as he starts tapping his toe.

“JD,” you whine. It’s a wonder you’re not drooling on his knee, biting down on the thick denim.

“You’re so pathetic.”

It shouldn’t make you as wet as it does. Shouldn’t send you keening further into him.

“Humping my boot,” he sighs. “Gonna ruin the leather.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as you feel your orgasm starting to build in the base of your stomach. Feel your pussy flutter and your toes curl.

“Are you gonna cum?”

“Yes,” you exhale.

“Aw, I can tell,” he snickers. “Do it.”

It hits you harder than you were expecting. You can feel it in your fingers as your hips jump forward in search of more friction.

“Was that good for you?” he asks as you shakily raise yourself up from the ground. You nod, not knowing if your voice was stable enough to give him a response.

“Good. Now clean my boot,” he says as he reaches forward to shove your head down.

@mak-32 @ughdesireable @mendesxruel @stardust-galaxies @ridestomars @bioodforbiood @blondedmuse @lovingjakeseresin @Pebblebrainmac @luxurybeskar @saintsinnereject @t6pgun @littletroublegirl444 @solarrbunny @xoxabs88xox @cherrycola27 @xxshea-barnesxx @fandom-princess-forevermore @remmiesour @dannyramirezwife @fitzells @bl00d-bunny @klmpun @wnterlovie

#jason dean #jd #jason dean x reader #jd x reader #heathers #jd smut #christian slater #christian slater x reader

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atths--twice · 4 months

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Surprising Discoveries

Stopping by Mulder’s apartment unannounced, Scully is in for quite a surprise.

This is the second story I wrote for the MSR Fanzine. A bit of humor and fluff. Hope you enjoy.

May 1999

Scully turned her head and listened, frowning as she heard the muffled sounds of the television through Mulder’s door. She tried knocking again, but there was still no answer.

“Well,” she said under her breath, taking out her phone and calling him, waiting for him to pick up.

She could hear it ringing on the other side of the door, but he did not answer it. Sighing, she disconnected the call and put it back into her pocket. Pulling out her keys, she placed his into the lock and opened the door.

Closing the door softly behind her, she put her keys back into her pocket and walked into the dimly lit apartment. His phone was on the table and the television was playing an old movie, but Mulder was nowhere to be seen.

Glancing at his half closed bedroom door, she wondered if she should enter, or leave and never tell him she had stopped by.

What if he was not alone? What if…

She licked her lips, let out a deep breath, and knocked on his bedroom door.

“Mulder?” she called, but heard nothing in reply.

Pushing the door open, she stepped into his nearly equally dim bedroom and frowned, still not seeing him.

A noise from his bathroom gave her pause, but then she stepped forward, sure she would finally find him in there.

“Mulder?” she asked, rapping gently on the closed door.

“Sc… Scully?” he asked, as she heard something hit the floor.

“Yeah, it’s me. I tried knocking and then calling you, but you didn’t answer,” she explained, now feeling almost silly for stopping by unannounced.

“Yeah, I uh… uh…”

“I should’ve called first,” she said, shaking her head. “I was leaving my mom’s after having dinner there and thought I’d stop by. But, I’m gonna go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“No!” he called out, as something dropped again and he swore. “I’m glad you’re here, I was just…” He sighed loudly and she frowned, wondering what was going on in there.

“Mulder, it’s fine. You continue what you’re doing. It wasn’t anything important. I’ll let you get back to it.”

She took one step back and he opened the door at the same time. When she looked at him, her eyes widened in surprise.

“Ohhhh,” she breathed, laughter being choked down as she stared at him, fighting back a smile even as she felt it stretching across her face.

“Yeah, I know,” he grumbled and the laughter she tried to contain came bubbling out, bending her forward, as he crossed his arms and sighed deeply.

“Mulder,” she laughed, shaking her head as she looked at him again, taking in the green clay mask on his face, thicker in some spots and thinner in others. Thin streaks of it were even in his hair. “What are you doing, Mulder?”

“I…” he said with a sigh.

“Have you… have you…” She laughed and then tried to sober up, still snickering softly. “I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” he said, attempting to look angry, but with the clay mask covering his face so unevenly, it did not come across that way.

“Mulder,” she said, laughing as she shook her head again. “What? How long have you been doing this?”

“Well, in case you couldn’t tell,” he said, turning around and walking back into the bathroom, looking into the mirror as she followed him, smiling at his reflection. “I’ve never done this before. I think I did it wrong.”

“It’s just…” she said, stepping closer to him and tilting her head, pointing to the left side of his face. “It needs to be a little thicker on that side. You’ve also got it in your hair. A headband would help that from happening.”

“Oh right. I should have used that headband I have lying around,” he said sarcastically, looking at her as she smiled.

“I think I have an extra one if you’d like to borrow it. For next time,” she offered and he shook his head.

“I think this may be the only time. I don’t know if it’s for me.”

“Come on,” she said, picking up the container and opening it. Taking a sniff of the familiar scent, she smiled and handed it to him. “Put it on the rest of the way and let it sit the full twenty minutes. Then decide if you don’t want to do it again.”

“Fair enough, I suppose,” he said, dipping his fingers into the container and scooping up more of the clay, applying it to his face as he followed her directions of where to put more, even taking her suggestion to add it halfway down his neck.

“There. How does that feel?” she asked when he was done and he washed his hands as she closed the container.

“Hmm, it’s starting to feel slightly… tingly?”

“Yeah. That’ll be from the mint. It’ll start feeling tighter as it dries and then you can wash it off.”

He stared in the mirror, tilting his head from side to side and then back as he looked at his neck. Cutting his eyes to her, she smiled at him and nodded.

“You’ll like it.”

“Hmm.”

“How about some tea while you wait? Or a beer?” she asked with a laugh when he made a face.

“I think I have some in the fridge.”

“I’m almost certain that’s all you have,” she teased.

“Nah, I’ve also got some leftover Chinese from the other night.”

They went into the kitchen and he took out containers of food and two beers while she grabbed utensils, plates, and napkins. At the table, he sat down and she smiled behind her hand as she watched him filling his plate, his face and half his neck covered in the clay mask.

Stabbing an egg roll with a fork, he ate it carefully, chewing slowly.

“So,” she said, taking an egg roll for herself. “What made you decide to do this?” She waved to his face with the egg roll, crossing her legs as she sat forward in her chair and took a bite and began to chew.

“Well,” he said, setting his egg roll down and wiping his hands on his napkin. “I needed some shaving cream and as I was walking down one of the aisles, the sight of the container caught my eye. I stopped and picked it up, reading what it did exactly and well…” He shrugged and then frowned slightly. “Oh, I feel it tightening a little.”

“Hmm,” she said, setting her egg roll on a napkin and reaching for the container of chow mein, eating a forkful of the cold noodles right from the carton.

“It’s a really odd feeling,” he said, touching his face gently. “It’s drying in some spots and still a little damp in others.” Tilting his head back, he touched his neck and hummed.

“Don’t touch it so much,” she said, laughing softly as she pulled his hand away from his neck. “Just let it dry.”

“How often do you do this?”

“Uh, once a month usually. Two times, if I feel like it.”

He moved his mouth from side to side and raised his eyebrows up and down which caused her to laugh, his expression quite comical.

“I really wasn’t sure why you weren’t answering my many attempts to reach you, but I admit, this never crossed my mind.”

“Always gotta keep you on your toes, Scully,” he said, taking another bite of egg roll and smiling, the skin on his face stretching to accommodate the movement.

“That you do, Mulder. That you do,” she said, laughing as she stared at him and he winked.

_______________

March 2003

A late winter storm blew in, forcing them to extend their stay in a cabin they had planned to leave after their prepaid two weeks. They had food, firewood, and some bottles of wine to tide them over, so they did not view the storm as a hindrance.

When the power went out and the generator kicked on, the lights dimming somewhat, they decided to turn off the movie they had been watching to conserve power. Mulder stood up to search for some candles while she stirred the fire and added another couple of logs to it.

“So,” Mulder said, walking back into the room with his arms full of candles in varying shapes and sizes. “I have an idea of what we can do to pass the evening now that the movie is off the table.”

“Really?” she asked, an eyebrow raised as she looked at him. “The whole evening?”

“Not that,” he laughed, reaching for the matches and handing them to her. “I mean, unless…” He raised his eyebrows, jerking his head toward the bedroom.

“Hmm, maybe later,” she said, smiling as she started lighting the candles.

“Then I’ll be right back,” he said and she watched him walk to the bedroom, wondering what he had in mind.

He was back quickly with his hands behind his back, a happy smile on his face.

“Pick a hand,” he said, coming closer to her. She smiled and pointed to his left hand. Pulling it from behind his back, he presented her with the container of her clay face mask.

“What?” she asked with a laugh. “What else have you got hidden back there?”

Showing her his other hand, he held the three bottles of nail polish from her makeup bag, along with her stretchy headband, which was hanging from his wrist.

“Face masks and pedicures?” she asked, looking from one hand to the other. “That’s what you want to do?”

“Or we could…” He gestured to the bedroom again and she laughed, shaking her head.

“If I can paint your toes, then I’m in.”

“I choose the red one,” he said, setting everything onto the table, except the bottle of red nail polish that he began to shake as she laughed.

Pouring them each a glass of wine, she sat down as she pulled her hair back and put her headband on, looking up at him expectantly. He grinned and picked up the container, removed the lid and scooped out some of the clay. He rubbed it in his hands and then began to apply it to her face, massaging as he did.

“That feels really good,” she said, closing her eyes and tilting her head back further.

“Good,” he said, rubbing the clay across her chin and down her throat. “And if at any time this becomes too erotic for you and you do want to head to the bedroom, I have no doubt that this can be washed off quite quickly.”

She scoffed as she opened her eyes, smiling and then rolled her eyes at him.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

“Good,” he said again as he kissed her softly and she closed her eyes, concentrating on the relaxing feel of the mask being applied, even as her heart beat faster.

His mask application took longer as he stopped her many times for a kiss, some lasting longer than the others, his hands at her waist and traveling down further before she stepped out of his reach and he groaned in protest.

“You think you can make it?” she teased and he hummed as he shook his head.

“I honestly don’t know,” he admitted and she laughed quietly as she stepped close to him again and rubbed the clay onto his forehead.

They sat on the couch, his feet resting in her lap, and she smiled as she covered his previously bare toenails with red polish. Blowing on them, she heard his sharp intake of breath and looked up at him.

“No,” he said firmly and she chuckled with a nod of understanding.

Switching positions, she placed her feet in his lap. He painted her toenails a light blue and she smiled at the focused attention he put into it, making sure it was done well. He looked up at her when he was finished and he smiled.

“Oh, I forgot about the mask,” he said, touching his cheek. “It’s already nearly dry.”

“Well, you can wash it off soon. Unless you want to wait until our polish has dried and we could wash it off in the shower.”

“The shower? To wash off a face mask?” he asked with a frown.

“Yeah,” she said, raising her eyebrows.

“Oh. You meant… together,” he said, raising his own eyebrows.

“That is what I had in mind, yes.”

“After the polish has dried,” he reiterated.

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed with a smile, her own mask feeling almost dry as well.

“Well…” he said, making sure the bottle of polish was closed tightly before he set it on the coffee table. Lifting her foot, he blew gently across her toes and it was her turn to draw in a sharp breath.

“Fi… five minutes,” she whispered, licking her lips.

“Let’s see if we can’t cut that in half,” he said, blowing on her toes again and she nodded.

“I’m also not opposed to simply redoing them tomorrow, should they not have time to dry. Just so you’re aware,” she informed him.

“Yeah, that works much better for me,” he said, moving her feet and rising from the couch.

Reaching for her hand, he pulled her up and toward the bedroom as she laughed; the face mask stretching as she did.

Her toenails would most certainly need to be redone tomorrow, but she did not care. At that moment, her desire for the man she loved took precedence over all else.

Especially smudged toes.

Or face masks that had not quite dried.

#the x files #xf fanfic #msr #happy #teasing #flirting #post Arcadia #humor #fluff #on the run #face masks #pedicures #kissing #love

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dude-why-3 · 4 months

Text

Who painted the sky?

Chapter 12: First Last Day

They’ve been writing the kids’ names on participation diplomas for what feels like forever now, Marie’s playlist put on shuffle. Annie’s slowly getting sick of the colorful pieces of paper, but the hosts insisted on doing this by hand since it would hold more meaning. And if that wasn’t enough, the volunteers had to write something nice about each camper.

While the others were doing a great job at finding the right words for each of them and writing a tiny paragraph on each diploma, Annie was struggling to even associate their names with their faces. Even Connie and Sasha seemed to be better at this than her, filling the back of the diplomas with compliments and drawings and snickering at what sounded like inside jokes.

Annie sighs and looks back at her paper, at the same two sentences that have been sitting there for the past hour.

It was lovely meeting and working with you. Good work!

Her pile of unwritten diplomas seems to be getting thicker by the second.

She peeks over her shoulder, peering over at Armin’s paper. He’s reached the bottom of his pile, working on complimenting Judy’s creativity. Annie tilts her head, squinting her eyes as she reads over his writing. Hers suddenly feels a lot sillier than a few seconds ago. She unknowingly leans towards him, attempting to have a better look at his praise. Her shoulder bumps against his.

Armin looks up at her quizzically, his glasses slightly sliding down. Annie’s face catches fire when she realizes she’s been caught staring.

Armin sketches a smile. “What?”

“How do you do that?”

He tilts his head to the side. “That?”

Annie gestures towards the paper. “That.”

He furrows his brows as he looks down at his own writing. “Writing about the kids?” He looks back at her, tilting his head briefly.

Annie nods.

Armin looks back at his paper. “I’m not sure. I’m just jotting down all the nice things I can think of. Like a review of the week, I guess,” he shrugs.

Annie hums lightly and returns to her own paper. She wrecks her mind for something nice she could say about Jake, something he stood out for– but in truth, she could barely tell who Jake even is. Annie furrowed her brows, trying her best to remember, but nothing came to mind. With how hectic things have been and how disconnected she's been from camp these past few days, Annie can barely put a name to each kid's face. She groans in frustration, running a hand through her hair.

"Need help with that?" Armin asks. He's finished his last diploma and put them all in a neat pile. He's now drumming his pen against the table, looking at Annie with a shit-eating smile.

Around them, Sasha and Connie high-five, putting all their twelve diplomas in a pile. Hitch and Reiner finished theirs a long ten minutes ago and are nowhere to be seen. Even Pieck and Jean seem to be making progress, their pile growing smaller.

Annie grips the pen tighter and places it against the paper again. But once again, no words come. Ink starts pooling on the paper, and she eventually lifts the pen and abandons it next to the paper.

She turns to Armin. "Are you done with yours?"

He gestures towards his pile. As if she hadn't seen it already, neatly arranged on the side.

He peers over at hers and hums lightly. "You could mention that he kinda saved us with that team name," he suggests. "And that, despite being shy at first, he managed to get out of his comfort zone and interact with the others."

Annie tilts her head. "He's the boy who suggested the Duck Team as a name?"

“The one and only,” he nods.

Annie hums lightly, glancing at the few words she’s managed to put down. Biting her lip, tapping the pen against the table, she wrecks her brain for the right words. She hesitates, stopping her hand only millimeters away from the paper, afraid her phrasing would be faulty. Peeking a glance at her colleague, Annie finds Armin with his arms folded over the table, head resting on top of them and tilted towards him. Smiling kindly at her, he nods towards the paper. And her words finally take a decent shape.

She touches the paper with the pen again and, surprisingly, the words flow easily this time. Slowly, but surely, she has a whole paragraph written on the wrinkled paper, praising the boy for his creativity, congratulating him on overcoming his initial shyness. She doesn’t use big words, but she’s rather proud of the little paragraph she manages to put down. Lifting her pen, Annie reads over her diploma, deeming it good enough, and sets it aside next to the pile of unwritten papers before picking another one.

“Twenty minutes left!” Marie announces.

Annie’s head snaps up. She squints her eyes at the clock hung behind the host, only now noticing that lunch is in half an hour. She presses her lips together, her brows drawing in a frown. She looks back at her pile, which suddenly looks impossibly tall. It stares back at her mockingly, waiting to be filled yet sure it would be impossible. She could just write the same two sentences on every one of them– thank you for coming to camp, great work. It might feel impossible, and the kids might be disappointed, especially if they compared the diplomas written by her with Armin's, but it was the most she could do. She sighs and picks another paper, cursing herself for not paying more mind to the children’s names.

“I can give you a hand with those, you know? I finished mine.”

Annie wipes her head and finds Armin’s face right next to hers, inches apart, their breaths mixing together. She can feel the smell of his cologne, see the fingerprints on the glass of his spectacles. She frowns at how dirty they are.

“Do you ever wash these things?”

“Huh?” He draws back and tilts his head to the side.

“Your glasses. I can barely see your eyes through them.”

Armin turns red in an instant, his brows arching up. He hurries to take his glasses off, squinting at the glass as if he only now notices how dirty they really are. Annie snorts and buries her face in her folded arms to muffle her laugh. Armin hurriedly wipes the glasses with his shirt, raising them up to check them, then wipes them again. He eventually puts them back on and turns to Annie.

“Is this any better?”

Annie raises her head and, certainly enough, she can see his wide eyes clearly, staring back at her. She smiles shortly, feels her ears warming up.

“Yeah.” Armin starts smiling. “Yeah, so much better.”

He grins widely, his eyes lighting up, making Annie’s chest warm and her heart skip a beat. Her face suddenly feels hot.

She frowns at him. “Well, will you give me a hand or not? Time’s thinning.”

He snickers lightly, and grabs half of her pile. He takes his pen off the table and starts writing again. Annie does the same. When she gets stuck, she asks, and Armin helps her figure out who is who, taps her on the shoulder when the phrasing is faulty. They manage to get them all down before the time goes off, and hand them over to Marie on their way out.

“The ceremony went well,” says Annie into the phone.

She's standing outside, next to the Big House, leaning against one of its walls. The night is rather calm, the sky clear save for a couple of clouds, the half moon shining brightly through them, the stars crowding the sky. Annie tightens her hoodie around her, feeling the cold starting to seep in.

She's been outside for close to ten minutes now, talking to her father on the phone. He told her that he was released from the hospital in the morning. Judging by how talkative he's been, telling her all about the hospital as if it were but a voyage, and describing this new cookie recipe his neighbor recommended, going into great detail about the temperature of the butter, Annie could tell he's doing good, which put her heart at ease.

“Did they like the diplomas after all?” her father asks, his voice rather cheerful.

Annie smiles to herself and nods. “Yeah, they did,” she says after a second, realizing he can’t see her. The kids’ reaction was still fresh in her memory, bringing a smile to her lips every time she replayed it. Their big eyes and their smiles were so precious, so genuine, she’ll probably have them imprinted in her mind for a long time. “They loved the shirts, too.”

The shirts were a detail that even the volunteers didn’t know about until the hosts brought them out. After they were done giving away diplomas, Marie placed a big white box in the middle of the room and, when Hannah and her opened it, everyone gasped, and, after a second, the kids cheered. It took Annie a good minute to see what they were staring at– many, many white shirts with the camp’s logo printed in purple on the front. And they were all for the kids, according to Marie, who regarded them with a big smile. They were a little souvenir from camp, so they would remember this week. Marie even held a little speech, telling them all how fun the week has been and how glad they were that they got to meet everybody. On behalf of the whole team, Marie thanked the children for joining the camp and embarking on this adventure with them, and thanked the adult coordinators of their homegroups for all the trust. It has been a truly wonderful week.

As soon as Marie was done with her speech, and after officially bidding farewell to the little ones, Annie found a little exit and left the building, needing to hear her father’s voice and make sure he’s alright– she already felt guilty for not being there, and not calling as often as she should have these past few days, for she’s been swapped with work, but, as soon as she heard his voice, she calmed down, allowed herself to let a sigh of relief out.

He’s okay. He’s better. She couldn’t have asked for more.

Annie slides down the wall, sitting soundfully on the ground, bringing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arm around them.

“I’m glad to hear that,” her father says, and she can almost see the tug of his lips– not a smile, no, he barely ever smiled, but a tug of his lips. “Are you having fun, Annie?” he suddenly asks, taking her back for a second.

~~~

Annie parts her lips for a mere second, but no word comes out– what kind of a question was that? Are you having fun? Of course she’s having fun, she’s at a summer camp, she’s supposed to have fun. She has people her age surrounding her, she has people to share her joys with, to laugh with, she has nice caring housemates that have done nothing but been respectful, and kept the place clean. There are nice adults taking care of the more adulty parts so it’s not all too much and too hard for them volunteers. She has a caring roommate. The boy next door has shown her nothing but kindness. And has turned her world upside down in a matter of weeks.

She should be having fun.

When she doesn’t think too much, she is having fun.

But then the night comes and she’s left alone with her thoughts and her nightmares and the guilt and embarrassment eat her alive both while awake and asleep and–

Someone calls her name. Annie’s head snaps up, only to find Pieck standing right in front of her, a somewhat bored expression on her face. She’s changed out of her usual skirt, instead wearing a flowery dress in shades of brown and white, the obnoxious orange shirt thrown over it, her hair let down. Annie quietly asks her what she wants, gesturing towards her phone to indicate that she’s busy.

Pieck nods lazily. She bends forwards as if to make herself heard, hands behind her back, and whispers, “The kids want to take pictures with you.”

Annie considers it for a moment, staring at her colleague through her eyelashes. Pieck remains unmoved, staring right back at her, waiting for an answer. Eventually, Annie sighs and raises to her feet.

“I’ve been summoned,” she says into the phone.

She hears her father’s hoarse, jerky laugh on the other side of the phone, and it soon turns into coughs– those cigarettes haven’t been doing him good. Annie clenches her fist, feeling her nails dig into the flesh of her palm.

“I wouldn’t want to hold you back, then,” he says, amused.

They bid farewell in a rush. Annie drops her phone in her pocket, and follows Pieck inside.

As soon as they walk through the door, the Duck Team comes running towards Annie, Armin trailing shortly behind them. It takes Annie aback, when three of the children crash into her, wrapping their arms around her tightly. A boy with dark blonde hair, a little girl with braids, and another with a big, pink, bow keeping her curls together, all of them wearing their new shirts.

Annie looks up at Pieck, only to catch her walking away with a big smile on her face, being received by her own kids. When she is hugged by a little girl with hair so long it almost reaches the ground, Pieck wraps her arms around her kindly, and lifts her up, spinning her around shortly; the little girl’s laugh echoes through the room, and Pieack’s smile shines brightly.

Looking back at the children around herself, Annie hesitantly puts her arms around their shoulders, daring to hold them closer.

“We’ll miss you, miss Annie,” the girl with the bow cries, and the others whine in agreement.

The rest of the group slowly approach Annie too, and in no time she’s being hugged by nine children, all of them equally whiny. She tries to put her arms around all of them. She looks up at Armin with wide eyes, as if asking for his help, only to find him standing to the side, a slight smile on his face, and– are those tears in his eyes?

Her eyes widen slightly at the sight. You’re crying, too? she mouths. The boy brings his hands up and hurries to wipe his tears away, trying to laugh it off. But it’s too late, she’s already seen it. Annie shakes her head briefly, patting one of the kids’ heads

Armin takes a deep breath in, smiles slightly, and joins their group hug, being welcomed with open arms by the kids.

"We'll miss you too, guys," he tells them. The girl with braided hair hiccups.

~~~

"We've had such a blast working with you all," Annie says, feeling a lump starting to form in her throat. "You've been great."

The girl starts fully crying, wailing, bursting her eyes out, and Annie grimaces almost unnoticeablly– there's going to be snot on her clothes.

"And maybe we'll meet again," Armin says, a hopeful note in his voice. "We might be here again next year," he adds, stealing a glance at Annie as he says it, as if checking for a reaction.

The girl narrows her eyes at him and slightly shakes her head. He might be here again. Not her. She has no plans of coming back. She’ll probably be busy with uni, and her father, and hopefully actual work, a job that pays.

She had no plans being here this year either. The Universe just plotted against her, through her father. And Hitch.

Armin clicks his tongue at her, narrowing his eyes slightly, as if telling her to at least act like it for a short while, for the kids. Annie rolls her eyes at him, then returns her attention to the little ones. She doesn't want to lie to them, but she also wants them to stop crying already.

So she swallows her pride, and she tells them that they never know what might happen in the future, and, while it's normal to be sad that it ended, they should also just cherish those memories and keep them dear to their hearts, and look forward to whatever the future holds. It seems to calm them down. It makes her wonder since when she can lie this well.

Hitch interrupts their little moment then, calling their names, waving the camera around. She's taken pictures of all the groups with their mentors, and they're the only ones left, and she hates waiting.

The kids hurry to wipe their eyes and noses– and Annie's absolutely thrilled to see that there is, in fact, snot on her hoodie– and run excitedly towards Hitch.

The children assemble nicely, on two rows, the shorter ones sitting on the floor in front of the taller ones, big smiles on their faces, Annie and Armin standing behind them all. Thankfully, the snot on Annie’s hoodie is not noticeable, as one of the boys stands right in front of her.

Hitch looks through the lens, pursues her lips as if whatever she’s seeing is not good enough for her liking, and ushers them to get closer, for they don’t fit into the frame. The children scoot closer together then. Armin takes a step closer to Annie, his shoulder touching hers.

And then, out of nowhere, in the spur of the moment, he puts his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer. Annie’s eyes widen slightly, feeling the blood rush into her cheeks. She looks up at him, and he smiles sweetly at her, the tips of his ears maroon. An idea comes to Annie that instant and, without giving it a second thought, she steps even closer to him and puts her arm around his waist.

Armin flinches at the sudden touch. He looks down at Annie with wide eyes, his blush deepening, but he soon relaxes under her touch, and flashes her a short-lived smile. Annie dares to keep her arm there then, smiling to herself for managing to draw that reaction out of him, that visible frustration, that he’s been eliciting in her for so long.

She turns towards Hitch, giving her best smile for the picture.

Hitch’s eyes gleam, their little exchange might have been a lot less sneaky than they had thought. But she doesn’t say anything, fumbling with the camera for a few seconds, struggling with the buttons. She eventually pushes the right one, which just so happened to be the biggest one, and takes the picture.

~~~

The music is so loud, Annie wonders how long it would take to drive her deaf, but she promised the kids that she’d stay for the party, at least on their last day here. So there she is, awkwardly standing to the side with a half empty plastic cup of orange juice, watching the kids and her colleagues dance and swing their bodies around, all laughs and giggles, colorful lights flashing and blinking around.

Annie takes a sip of her beverage, and immediately grimaces– it must be the most artificial thing she’s ever drunk. She should have gone with the lemonade, at least she knew that was fresh– she saw Sasha squeeze the lemons earlier in the day– but she’s pretty sure the lemonade jug has emptied by now, everyone rushed to fill their cup.

“Annie!” Hitch calls, approaching her. She’s wearing her orange camp shirt, like all of them are, tucked in a brown skirt, and she has her hair curled softly, the sparkles on her eyelids shining in the ever-changing light. She looks absolutely stunning. “Come dance with us!”

Annie uncomfortably switches her weight from one leg to the other. “Maybe later,” she says.

Hitch crosses her arms against her chest. “Why, you don’t like dancing?”

Annie’s eyes switch to the group in the middle of the room. They’re all carefreely dancing around, swaying their arms in the air, looking like they’re having the time of their lives. Even the little ones have joined them in their strange practices. But however easy and fun they might be making it, their steps look so complicated, Annie doubts she could ever replicate them. She’s been studying them closely for close to twenty minutes, she thinks, if not more, and still couldn’t figure out what exactly they were doing with their legs, for it all looked so chaotic yet so organized.

Little does she know, she’s also been studied, Armin’s big blue eyes darting towards her constantly, until he drove Hitch off and she decided to bring her roommate on the dancefloor herself.

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” Annie tells Hitch, looking back at her. Her roommate arches an eyebrow. The blonde finally abandons the juice on the ravaged table next to her. “I just… don’t really know how to dance,” she admits, switching her weight again.

Hitch breaks into a smile. “That’s your issue?” she laughs.

Annie narrows her eyes at her, wondering what it is that she finds so funny.

“No one knows what we’re doing, Annie! We’re just moving around and having fun!” Hitch grabs Annie by both hands and, before the girl can protest, drags her onto the dance floor. “Come on, join us!”

Annie soon finds herself awkwardly standing in between her colleagues and friends as they dance on, studying their moves. She finds Sasha’s are relatively simple, the girl just stepping back and forth, then two times left, back and forth, then two times right.

She tries imitating her, stepping back, and forth, and then to the left–

And she bumps into someone else.

Her shoulder bumps into his back, and she hears his surprised yelp. Annie turns around to find Armin looking at her equally as surprised as she feels.

“Sorry, I have no idea what I’m doing,” she says, feeling her ears start to warm up.

“Me neither!” Armin laughs.

He keeps stepping back and forth, literally just back and forth, his steps somehow jumpy, his arms swaying around slightly, looking like he’s having the fun of his life.

Annie narrows her eyes at him. “How do you do that?” she asks, starting to slowly step back and forth too, as if testing whether it works or not.

“I’m just walking funny,” Armin tells her, then laughs quietly.

He resumes to his silly dance, a big smile plastered on his lips. His eyes follow Annie as she does the same thing, stepping around slowly, her eyes cast to their feet as if making sure she’s following his steps right.

“You got it!”

Annie’s brows draw together and she raises her eyes, looking at him a bit out of it. “I did?”

“Yes!”

Armin grabs one of her hands, taking her by surprise, her eyes widening. Smiling widely, Armin spins her around. Annie stops herself mid-yelp, her eyes wide. Armin catches her in his arms, one hand on her waist, the other still holding hers. She looks up at him with wide eyes, her heart racing in her chest. Her face warms up at the sight of his shit-eating smile, and his big blue eyes on her, pouring into hers, as if unknotting the very secret of the universe, and their faces are so close, and–

“The buses are here!”

Annie and Armin both halt upright at the sound of Marie’s voice.

The music is turned off, the big light turned on. The children collectively sigh, but don’t protest any further. Some pick confetti off the floor and stuff their pockets. Some take one last cookie off the snack bar– and Annie pretends to not see their little theft.

From the corner of her eye, Annie catches a glimpse of Marie and Hannah, latter, shorter, leaning against the blonde host, Marie’s arm wrapped around her shoulders. Hannah's eyes look watery, and she hides her face in her colleague's shoulder. Marie brings a hand to her hair, dipping her head and placing a subtle kiss on the crown of her head. If she didn’t know any better, Annie would say there are tears behind Marie’s round glasses, too.

But her observation is interrupted by a tiny voice calling her name, and when she turns she finds little Jake tugging at her sleeve, his eyes big and glassy. She smiles shortly at him, finds it in herself to pat his head.

“Thank you, miss,” the boy says, his voice still so small, Annie has to strain to hear him. “I had so much fun this week, you made camp fun!” And then he skitters away, joining his friends.

Annie is left speechless for a bit, watching as the boy disappears out the door with wide eyes. The lump in her throat reappears, only tighter this time, and she finds herself blinking rapidly. Since when did she start caring so much about these– these passing strangers?

A hand comes down on her shoulder, startling her. Her head snaps out, and she finds Reiner standing next to her, his eyes as wide as hers, a little tear in the corner of his left eye. He smiles brightly at her, caressing her shoulder slightly, as if to let her know that he feels it too, the longing settling in, the feeling of emptiness in anticipation to the group not being there anymore. She presses her lips together, the corner of her lip curling up slightly. She tries to find the words to say something, but she fails miserably. What’s there left to say?

Hitch beckons them to come outside and bid the kids goodbye, and stop being such sentimental widows. But Annie sees the little tears in the corners of her eyes, too.

Three big, white buses are waiting in the front yard, ready to take the kids back home. The little ones climb in one after the other, and take their assigned seats in the buses.

Watching them prepare to leave, Annie feels the lump in her throat grow bigger, tighter. Armin pushes his glasses up his nose, a genuine smile resting on his lips as he watches them. Next to her, Sasha wipes her eyes, and Connie blows his nose, and Jean pats their shoulders. Hitch has a big smile plastered on her lips, and she’s waving excitedly at the children, her smile widening by the second. Reiner buries his hands deep into his pockets, a big grin spreading on his face. Pieck sleepily leans against his side, arms crossed across her chest.

And then the buses start moving.

The volunteers all wave to the kids, smiles plastered on their faces, and the children wave back, some of them sticking their faces to the glass.

Suddenly, Connie starts running behind the buses, waving his arms around chaotically.

“Connie!” Marie exasperatedly calls behind him.

But he keeps running as if his life depended on it, waving his arms, shouting farewell after farewell, his slippers hitting the wet pebbles with dangerous sounds, as if they could slip off any time.

The kids giggle through the glass, and keep waving.

Then, Connie trips on something, and his slipper goes flying. The boy falls face-first on the ground, his slipper landing on top of his head. Annie squeezes her eyes, somehow pained by his antics, yet not surprised, trying not to laugh at them.

Marie’s exasperated sigh is followed by Hannah’s light giggle, and then two sets of steps are heard walking away, their voices fading as they get further away from the group.

When Sasha starts frantically laughing, the boy rolls over and flips her.

And the buses fade into the dark behind him, marking the end of their first official week.

#aruani #armin arlert #annie leonhart #armin x annie #aruani fic #who painted the sky?

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dragonologist-phd · 10 months

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🎪 for Cleo?

thank you!!

Send a symbol for a scene from my muse’s childhood

🎪 for a scene about travel

also on ao3

“Are we there yet?”

Cleo rolls her eyes. The question comes from her cousin, Alder, and it’s gotta be the fifth time he’s asked that since they crossed the river just an hour ago. And just like the four times before, Cleo’s mother gives the same answer.

“Almost.”

Alder groans, and Cleo turns to stick her tongue out at him. “It’s not that bad, slowpoke!”

“It’s cold,” he insists, kicking at the snow covering the trail. The snow is getting thicker and thicker as the tribe continues up the mountain, and Alder nearly trips as his foot sticks in the deep powder. Cleo snickers, and Alder grabs a fistful of the snow to throw at hear head.

“Alder, sticking your hands in the snow is just going to make you colder. And Cleo, put that tongue back in your mouth before it freezes like that.”

Despite the scolding, Cleo knows her mother isn’t really cross with them- when she’s really mad, she gets loud and shouty. But right now, her voice is still calm, so Cleo waits until she looks away and then sticks her tongue out one more time in Alder’s direction. For good measure.

This time, Alder dutifully ignores Cleo’s taunting. He’s no fun that way.

“How close is almost there?”

Cleo’s mother takes a moment to survey the landscape below. “See that spot on the ridge down there? We need to make it to that site before sundown. That’s where the best hunting will be once winter fully sets in.”

Alder and Cleo both stop in their tracks to lift up as tall as they can and try to catch sight of their destination. From their vantage on the mountainside, they can see for miles around- that’s why the tribe takes this route every year. But this is the first year that Cleo and Alder have been deemed old enough to walk the whole way, instead of being confined in the wagons with the supplies. Alder may be whining about it, but Cleo intends to prove to her mother that she’s just as tough as any other member of the tribe.

But even she has to admit…when she sees how far the winter site still is, her stomach sinks a little.

“That’s a long ways,” Alder groans.

Cleo’s feet ache in agreement. But she sticks her chin up anyway, and with as much force as she can muster declares, “It’s not that long a ways. I’m not even tired!”

“Liar! You are, too!”

“Stop crying and come on!” Cleo grabs her cousin’s hand and pulls him forward- but between his reluctance and the deep snow, she stumbles and ends up pulling them both to the ground.

“Cleo!” Alder cries, and Cleo would snap back if her mouth weren’t full of snow. Okay, so maybe running the rest of the way isn’t the best idea.

Cleo soon finds herself lifted off the ground by her mother’s strong hands, and though she squirms against her, she admits it’s nice be off her own feet.

“You’re sure you’re not tired, munchkin?” her mother asks.

“Yes! I’m not-”

A stiff wind interrupted her words. The cold snow has seeped through her cloak now, and she can’t fight back a shiver. Her mother chuckles again and says, “Okay, munchkin. How about we take a break?”

Cleo gets ready to put up a fight against being taken back to the wagons- but instead, her mother lifts her higher, Ceo ends up settled on her shoulders. As soon as Cleo grabs hold of her neck, she begins to shift; her shoulders widen, her stance lowers, and thick fur sprouts beneath Cleo’s fingers.

When she’s done, Cleo is settled between the shoulder blades of a large brown grizzly bear.

The bear-mother kneels to the ground and gives a low rumble from the back of her throat, and Alder scrambles up to her as well. He clambers onto her back and settles himself behind Cleo, and although Cleo is tempted to leap back to the ground- and maybe shove Alder off too, while she’s at it- she can’t deny it that it’s pretty comfy here. Her mother’s grizzly fur is soft and warm, and she ambles down the path at a pace quicker than either Cleo or Alder could manage on their own.

I’ll just stay here for a little while, Cleo thinks to herself as she snuggles deeper into her mother’s fur. A yawn slips from her lips without permission, and she rests her head against her mother’s back as she watches the snow fall around them. Just a little while.

#thanks for the ask!#ch: cleo

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grapecaseschoices · 1 year

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okay for the oc dating game, Serena is tall and full figured with long dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. She cusses too much and deflects with humor whenever possible. She likes to play the cynic and gets nervous about romance and affection easily but that's mostly because she has an intensely romantic side. She's been burned before and is very guarded with her heart. Has been known to ghost people before when she's started to catch feelings, so needs someone patient and reassuring, but if someone can get around her walls she's very soft and devoted and also fun.

I am completely indecisive and I can think at least four ocs that might work with your Serena @amlovelies, but I'll go with two.

One is my Speaker MC, Enriqueta "Riquie" Villemont (she/her). The too much cussing might be a BIT of a put off, but I can also see her letting it roll off her shoulders -- she's not unused to with prickles for armor (and I am sure she's gotten re-acquiantened with foul mouths with Li). Riquie loves a good joke (and a bad one .... and an inapportune one) and her standard default is teasing. She is a big, huge flirt. So I think she would let Serena play her deflection games with the jokes and meet her head for head, she'd be able to keep it light and breezy. I feel Riquie would be straight forward with her intentions, should feelings happen but not with the pressure. She wouldn't tolerate ghosting but she's actually really astute and genial; so while she’d be clear to be like ‘I’m not a fan’, she’d be open to taking Serena as she comes as long as she is AROUND and respects her own boundaries.

A little bit about Riquie, she is tall af and while not exactly thicker than a snicker, she’s far from a kitkat bar (lol, idek). She is soft, slightly jiggly, and gently curvy -- yet powerful? Because she has some self-defense skills and practices that. She has dark green eyes and long, coily dark brown hair that she typically dyes purple. She is my kind-hearted, chatty, loves the artsy stuff, fiercely loyal bb.

The second is my OC Ariel Centofanti (ze/hir, he/him). There is nothing that Serena can throw at him that ze has not seen or experienced from life, particularly their best friend: Isaako. She wants to play the cynic? Sorry, ze’s known that game since he was before he was ten watching his biffle use it to keep people away. Want to ghost him? If ze can tolerate it from hir deadbeat dad, than ze can tolerate it from someone they care about, right?

While there IS a limit to this dude’s patience, it’s really hard to find; like reaching the bottom of the ocean in a submarine or whatever (which might be too much for Serena?). And he is just so unflinchingly positive, that any barbed comments sent his way would only be met with amusement or a calm smile. Ze’s not easily ruffled. What ze is is a bit ... slow cooking with certain things (I think falling in love is one of them, and letting hirself fall) so I could see them fallng into a bit of a ‘will they or won’t they’, with her ghosting -- and that also making him a bit leery re: expecting commitment from her. A part of me is like they’d be better friends, he’s also a humor guy --- big on puns, totally off-beat .... but if they ever got past their wariness, he’d be so sweet with / to her.

(she’d just have to accept that she married isaako ... bc that’s his soulmate)

oh, and ariel is 5′11, brown hair, grey eyes, and is built how you’d imagine a lean muscular handyman off a romance novel to be built like ... bc ze is a lean muscular handyman.

#other's ocs #oc dating game #amlovelies #oc: enriqueta villemont #oc: ariel centofanti #long post #the other two were:#oc: tareq abadi #oc: kaylee moyano #i REALLY wanted to go with kaylee but my brain kept shouting ariels name so clearly mint2be

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sunshine-luca · 1 year

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“Who is the guy in the basement making such a racket?” Luca demanded, sweeping into the study where Ryan conducted a good portion of his Family business. He was in the chair by the window while Rourke paced.

“One of Vito Morrisini’s men,” Ryan told him, looking up. Rourke paused his pacing to watch as Luca made a beeline for Ryan’s lap, interrupting whatever it was they had been discussing. Luca knew he was well used to it by now so Luca ignored him as he straddled his lover’s thicker thighs.

“Hi, daddy,” Luca whispered, cupping Ryan’s face in his hands as he leaned in to whisper against his ear.

Ryan’s answering rumble sent a shiver of delight down Luca’s spine.

Three point five seconds after that, what Ryan had said about Vito finally registered. Luca pulled back from the kiss he’d been angling for and wrinkled his nose instead. “Wait a minute, did you say one of Vito’s guys?”

Ryan’s blue eyes looked stormier than usual. He looked angry. Luca glanced back over his shoulder at Rourke before sliding off Ryan’s lap and back to his feet with a sigh. Now that he was paying closer attention, Rourke looked pretty damn pissed too.

“What’s going on?”

Rourke and Ryan shared an indiscernible look but it was Rourke that answered.

“Looks like the Morrisini’s are getting pushy again. We caught Vito’s man sniffing around the docks. Trying to pay off the harbor master.” Rourke snorted, shaking his head. “Like he’s gonna be swayed by the Morrisini’s pathetic little offer.”

“He knows what will happen if he even thinks about turnin’,” Ryan snarled. Ice clinked as he picked up the glass of whiskey from the side table. “Every last one of ‘em. Gone to the fookin’ dogs.”

“Which is why we have him in our basement,” Rourke supplied at Luca’s raised eyebrow. “Let’s just say we’re going to hold him for safe keeping until the rest of the family arrives.”

“The rest of them? Coming here?”

“No,” Ryan said grimly, taking a sip. “Just one.”

Luca listened to Ryan and Rourke talk strategy while he basked in the warmth of the fireplace for a while. He still hadn’t got quite used to the drafty Scottish castle, even if Ryan and Skye had taken pains to modernize it where they could. Luca didn’t mind so much though. There was something special about being laid down on a fur blanket in front of a fireplace and fucked into oblivion. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get sick of it.

He waited until some sort of consensus had been met before finally succumbing to boredom. He piped up, “Oh, Rourke. I think Kate was looking for you earlier. Something about some a new dish? I’m not sure what she-”

Rourke’s head swivelled around, pinning Luca with a look. “What? Why the hell didn’t you say anything earlier?”

Luca shrugged lazily as he lifted his arms above his head to give his spine a good stretch. “I don’t know. Forgot, I guess?”

Rourke cursed then turned to Ryan, who waved him off without hesitation.

Luca snickered as the door slammed shut behind Rourke. Then he was rising to his feet and sashaying his way across the carpet. He climbed back into Ryan’s lap to straddle him.

His lips found Ryan’s neck, mouthing along the warm skin there and breathing in his familiar scent. “She’s not, by the way. I just wanted to get rid of him.”

Ryan’s low laughter rumbled in his chest. “If ye weren’t, then I was, boy.” Ryan’s words were accompanied by two heavy hands on Luca’s hips. “I wanted you to myself. Especially in this.”

“Oh,” Luca leaned back, grinning coyly. “This old thing?” He tugged on the delicate threads of the robe he’d found lying across the foot of their bed a few hours earlier. “I’m not sure where it came from. I must have a secret admirer, some mysterious benefactor or-”

Ryan grunted, making Luca laugh. “Nothing mysterious about it,” he muttered, sounding put out even though Luca knew he was anything but. It put Luca in a playful mood.

He pushed one sleeve off to expose the curve of his shoulder and fluttered his eyelashes. “Does it suit me?”

Ryan raked his gaze up and down Luca’s body – starting from his curls, all the way down. Luca smirked again, confident that he knew the older man liked what he saw - which was why he froze when Ryan only lifted one shoulder in half a shrug and said, “Mmm. Passable.”

For a second, the response didn’t register inside Luca’s brain. Then it did.

“Passable?” Luca hissed angrily, seconds away from launching himself off Ryan’s lap. Ryan sensed his intention and held him down, laughing quietly as Luca tried to squirm out of his grip.

“Aye, boy. But only because I actually prefer it off. Maybe on the floor, in fact.”

Ryan accompanied his statement with his inked hands pulling on the tie of the robe, causing the whole outfit to fall free and hang loose from Luca’s body. It didn’t do anything to hide the aroused state Luca was in. Just the sound of Ryan’s low chuckles were like warm honey and the older man’s heavy hands on his hips were possessive and hungry and then Ryan was curling into him, his mouth on Luca’s bare nipple, licking and sucking until Luca was writhing in a whole different way in his lap.

Luca clutched Ryan’s head, gasping as the sparking bolts of pleasure shot through his body. “Blake,” he moaned, tossing his head back. Nipple play always confused him – on one hand, he wanted to lean into it, on the other, the sensations were too intense sometimes he wanted to push away. He likened it to when Ryan had made him cum too many times in quick succession – over sensitive but it felt so damn good he just wanted more.

Ryan knew just what effect his mouth was having, kissing a path between the faint valley on Luca’s chest while Luca whimpered.

“Much better like this,” Ryan said, shoving the rest of the material off Luca’s body. Without the robe, he was utterly naked. He hadn’t bothered with briefs – why would he, when past experience had told him they only got in the way. “Look at ye. Fookin’ beautiful. My beautiful boy.”

Even all shivery and trembling, Luca couldn’t help tossing his head and preening. Ryan made him feel like a precious gem – he wouldn’t ever get enough of it.

“All yours,” he cupped Ryan’s head again, forcing their eyes to meet. Just then, Luca became acutely aware of the position he was in – straddling his lover on a huge wingback chair, utterly naked and already so hard he was drooling a trail of precum over Ryan’s dark denim jeans. “So what are you gonna do about it, daddy?”

#honestly just a ramble #luca switched tracks halfway through and i was too tired to bring him back into line

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raebaekaedae · 1 year

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Volume One, Episode Eleven: “Pedigree and Proposal”

Series: SCWR Rating: PG-13 (Foul Language, Minor Violence, Subtle Themes, Themes of Minor Internalized Acephobia, Prominent Themes, Themes of Racism) Summary: (4,390 words) “As teams from other schools start to arrive, Hadrian becomes unusually distant. With Ryder dealing with conflicting feelings, Robyn unintentionally making things worse, and Monroe trying to keep the peace... there’s only one person who can help the former Atlesian now. But can he get to Haddy before it’s too late?”

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It was well past midnight. With his team already knee-deep in trouble with Headmaster Ozpin, he really shouldn't be sneaking around... but this had been his only shot at being alone for a few hours so he could finish his project. After weeks of studying and re-wording, he'd finally completed it... now all he needed to do was present it... which was much easier said than done.

As he crept down the hall towards his dorm, he could hear the faintest of conversations through the door. He had hoped that they would be asleep, not waiting up on him. As he reached the door, he hesitated and listened.

"I dunno, Rob," that was Haddy's voice, "I'm not really one for fancy pants dances."

There was a long groan from the redhead as she replied, "C'mon, I'm sure you went to, like, a thousand Atlas shindigs while you were up there! It's not rocket science! I just need help picking out a dress!"

His heart skipped a beat as he continued to wait. Haddy sighed, "They both look the same to me. 'Roe! Help me out here..."

"Oh nuh-uh," Robyn sassed, "I asked you."

He could hear the smirk in Cadie's voice as she replied, "Robyn doesn't like my style. She says it's 'retro'."

Haddy chuckled as the blonde pirate snickered. He heard fabric fall against fabric as Robyn whined, "C'mon... this is serious! This is our last Vytal festival! They're only held every two years, and we're graduating next year! This one has to be special! Romantic and steamy! I want someone to see me and think: 'Damn, she's hot!' and then sweep me off my feet!"

His heart sank. The hand-written proposal in his hand felt like it was burning a hole through his skin. He didn't hear the rest of the conversation as he swallowed hard. He stuffed the note deep into his pocket along with his hand. Subconsciously, he fiddled with one of the blond ends of his dreads, before he sighed and pushed the door open.

Robyn was standing at the end of her bed with two dresses in her hands. Haddy was sitting on the floor with his back up against Peri's bed across from her, one knee bent up so his elbow could rest on it. Cadie was in her bed, flicking through her scroll absently until he walked in. Ryder forced a soft smile as he walked towards his bed.

Before he got too far, Robyn had already jumped up with her big, goofy grin as she hustled over to him. She was showing off both dresses as she asked, "R! Perfect timing! Which one of these screams, 'Badass Huntress waiting to be swooned'?"

The armored faunus swallowed hard, but-- against his better judgment-- looked over the dresses.

The first one, held in her right hand, was a full-length gown. Its crimson red torso was adorned with an intricate embroidered pattern, held up on the hanger with clear spaghetti straps. The skirt portion reached the ground and had two layers; the underside was made of opaque, red satin with a top layer made of translucent, glittery fabric that shimmered.

The second was a burgundy dress with an asymmetrical skirt that was longer in the back. It gave off the illusion that she had a long, mermaid's tail. The torso was cut the same way as the other, although its sleeves were thicker and rested on her upper arms instead of shoulders. Its embroidered pattern was different and laced with white instead of red.

Ryder looked back and forth between the dresses before he hesitantly replied, "I, uh, think tha one on y'ur r'ght looks good?"

The redhead examined the dress scrupulously, and after a long moment, she shrugged and merrily exclaimed, "That's the one I was thinking too!"

He breathed a sigh of relief, turning to go back towards his bed. However, before he got more than an inch, Robyn had flung the dresses over her arm as she caught him with her other. Ryder looked down at her with another wave of nervousness.

She smirked up at him as she asked, "So... Who are you going to ask to the dance?"

His head immediately whipped up to Cadie. Robyn's back was to her, so she was making a desperate attempt to urge him on while still trying to get the message across that it wasn't her who spilled the beans. His eyes turned to Haddy, who just shrugged, agreeing with their blonde leader.

Ryder felt a bead of sweat roll down the side of his face as he cautiously lied, "No one..."

He watched as both Cade and Hadrian silently facepalmed. Robyn pulled him down slightly as she replied sassily, "Oh no. You're not pulling that on me. You're my best friend, so I know you haven't been sneaking off to do some midnight reading..." she paused just long enough for Ryder's face to begin to feel hot, "C'mon, I wanna see what you've been working on!"

He looked back at Cadie and Haddy again. They had joined forces, standing beside one another and giving him silent cheers and pushes. With one last deep breath, he hesitantly pulled out the proposal he'd written out on a beautiful, pale red letter.

With glee, Robyn took the note and flipped it open to read it aloud, "Aw, Ryder this is beautiful. 'A little birdie told me that you didn't have a date to the dance. That's unacceptable, so I was hoping you'd go out on a limb and jump from the nest with me?'. Oh, the little feather drawing is perfect!"

Ryder felt his face burning as his dark skin bloomed with blush. He was standing rigidly, arms at his sides as he passed a glance behind Robyn again. Both of his teammates were giving him praise and thumbs pointed high. Haddy was making a whistle motion with his fingers in his mouth, but, thankfully, he wasn't making any sound. His face felt like it was on fire.

The redhead reread the note in her head once or twice, before she cocked her head and said, "It doesn't say who you wanted to ask though..."

He swallowed hard as the cogs turned in her head, "Wait... 'little birdie'... 'jump from the nest'... a feather..."

Tension rose for a brief moment, the air so thick it could be served on a platter, before Robyn's eyes lit up and met Ryder's. He felt his heart pounce as the biggest smile crossed her face and she shouted, "You're gonna ask Raven!"

He swore he heard something shatter, possibly inside him. Haddy groaned, dragging his hands down his face as he turned and banged his forehead on the wall a few times. Beside him, Cade burst out into a peal of cackling laughter, grabbing her side as she nearly doubled over.

In an instant, Robyn had whipped around and snapped, "Cadie! He can ask whoever he wants to the dance! Stop laughing at him!"

The pirate wiped a tear from her eye as she giggled, "Robyn! I'm not laughing at him! He's trying to ask--"

"RAVEN!" Ryder shouted, interrupting her. When all eyes turned to him, he clarified, "Yeah... I w's gonna ask... Rav'n."

Robyn turned back to Monroe with a triumphant smirk, completely missing the almost unreadable look of tender sympathy directed at the faunus. As she turned away, Ryder took a deep breath, letting his mask go for just a moment too long, allowing Hadrian and Cascade to see the grief in his eyes. They exchanged a glance before Haddy stepped forward, a hand outstretched as if he was about to say something.

Before he could, Ryder regained his composure and put a hand on Robyn's shoulder with a smile, "Don't'chu all wanna g't one last run 'n tha morning, 'fore ev'ryone shows up?"

The husky's hand lowered slowly as he sighed, but he tried to smile as he replied, "Yep. Everyone up at oh-six-hundred... three miles..."

Ryder smiled back as he turned to grab his pajamas and replied, "Bett'r sleep th'n... G'night."

He had already ducked into the bathroom to change before anyone could object. The redhead went back to her preening like nothing had even happened, putting her chosen dress out on her plushie stuffed bed as the other was tossed to the side. Monroe and Hadrian shared one last, uneasy look before also getting ready for bed.

In the morning, the husky rounded the final bend of the sidewalk as he came to a jogging halt at the end of the pathway encircling the academy and framing the courtyard. He continued to run in place as he waited for the rest of the team to catch up. After a moment, they also came around the edge of the building and eventually made it to the finish line, almost collapsing as Haddy smiled and clicked the timer on his scroll. Deciding against snapping a picture, but only barely.

He looked down, and joked, "C'mon guys, only fourteen minutes twenty-four seconds? We could do better than that."

Monroe flipped him the bird as she leaned over with her hands on her knees, struggling to catch her breath. Ryder had sweat pouring down his face and sides as he slowly walked in a circle with his hands intertwined behind his head to try to cool off. Robyn completely gave up the facade of trying to appear unwinded as she fell firmly on her butt and panted mercilessly.

After a moment of air, Monroe breathed out, "Fuck off... Snow..."

He laughed as Robyn fanned her face and slowly remarked, "I can't believe... you're not even... slightly... out of breath... What... are you made of!?"

It was nearing seven in the morning. The beautiful, pink sun had risen over the horizon during their workout and hid behind clouds that were painted in the same orange hues as the trees. The crisp air smelled like it had been dusted with dew. Other students from Beacon had begun to congregate in the main courtyard, eagerly awaiting the airbuses that carried teams from the other schools. Some to greet new friends and others to scope out the competition. Even STRQ was sitting under one of the autumnal trees dotted around the court.

He watched for a moment with a smile as Qrow danced through some elaborate story and the others laughed. However, he turned his attention back to his teammates as he reached down and gathered up three waters that he had left in the shade earlier. They were still crisp and cold, condensation rolling down their sides. As he handed out the bottles, the roar of an airbus broke through the witty banter and conversations.

Everyone turned to look as a few of the planes touched down on the landing pads. Haddy could feel everyone getting excited.

Robyn, now re-energized, jumped up and stated, "Alright! Who's first this year? Place your bets people!"

The blonde, still worn out, mumbled, "Mistral..."

"Aw, you're no fun," Robyn pouted, given that everyone knew Monroe had already scoped out the transport before it had even landed.

The faunus boys chuckled as students in Haven Academy uniforms began to file out of the airbuses, stretching and taking in the view of Beacon. As they became more comfortable, students from both schools began to approach and greet one another. SCWR watched from the corner of the final pillar on the open wall, happily enjoying the morning as they relaxed after their workout.

However, the jovial nature didn't last as Hadrian watched an Atlesian airship descend towards the landing pads. He heard Robyn joking around beside him, pointing out that Raven was close by and that Ryder had every opportunity to go talk to her, but he wasn't paying any attention... his eyes scanned the ship as he felt his heart beat in his chest. The doors slowly opened, almost misting with morning fog, revealing the dimly lit interior. He could almost smell the snow and dust.

As he watched the first leg of a student step out, he ripped his head away. He grumbled under his breath as he started making his way back towards the locker rooms. He didn't get too far before Monroe caught his arm and looked at him with a raised brow.

He assuredly smiled as he threw a thumb over his shoulder towards the school, "I'm gonna go hit the showers before people start filing in to register their temporary lockers."

"Aw, you going modest on us, Haddy?" Robyn quipped, taking a break from pestering Ryder to pester him.

The husky pulled his arm free and half-mumbled back, "Yeah, I guess... See you guys later."

He pretended that he didn't see the confused and concerned looks in the girls' eyes before he haphazardly waved behind him and made his way back to the school.

An hour later, he was showered and dressed in the locker room. He knew he shouldn't have left the girls and Ryder to deal with visiting students on their own, but... he had a lot on his mind. As he was pulling Sleigh out of his assigned locker he felt a chill run up his spine. Cigarette smoke stung his nostrils.

He shuddered when he heard the long, drawn-out, "Well, if it isn't Haddy Snow."

He really didn't want to do this right now. With a deep breath, Hadrian continued to rummage around in his locker as he slowly replied, "Vince..."

"Aw, you remember me..." he drew out again, leaning onto the locker next to Haddy's, "Thought you might have forgotten all your friends back in Atlas when you downgraded."

Vince Delgatto was a spoiled rich kid who grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth and money in his diaper. Heir to one of Atlas's lead fashion developers, practically drowning in lien since he could walk. Ever since Hadrian met him, the guy has had it out for the husky and his team. He didn't think a faunus could do the job of a human without messing up somehow, and he made sure everyone knew it. Little to say, he wasn't a big fan of Team Solitude.

Haddy took another slow breath before he clipped his picks to his belt and closed the locker door, doing his best to ignore the skunk-haired bully as he turned to walk past. Unfortunately, Vince had brought his goons; Rouge and Kaleb. They were blocking his way out of the now cramped aisle of lockers. This wasn't going to end well.

"Look," Hadrian said, turning his head back to Vince, "I'm not gonna cause you guys any trouble. So let me pass."

The domino-haired Atlesian mocked surprise as he took a few steps towards the husky. He had always towered over Hadrian. He sneered, "Hear that, boys? Little Haddy Snow isn't so high and mighty without his team backing him up. What happened? Now that Ollie isn't around, you don't have anyone to do your bidding?"

He bit back an insult as a low growl started in his gut. Haddy refused to stoop to his level, or maybe that was Leo's logic screaming to get his attention in the back of his mind. Without another word, he turned his head and marched straight past Vince's cronies. He did his best to shove them as hard as he could while he pushed through, slamming them both into the rows of lockers they'd tried to block off. He could hear Vince cackling as he continued his long walk to the other end of the locker room. Just when he thought it was over, Haddy heard footsteps following him.

"You can't hide behind Bēju anymore, Snow!" The Atlesian called, "No big, strong men to protect you!"

He was almost there. As his hand ghosted the knob, he heard one final holler, "Can't believe anyone as soft as Leo even made it into Atlas Academy. But with you as a brother? I can see why he was such a loser... Hads."

Hadrian froze. That low growl turned into a snarl in an instant. Without even realizing it, he'd pulled Sleigh, shifting it into its rifle form automatically, and aimed it high at Vince's stupid hair. His eyes trained on the bully as they contracted into pin pricks. His finger was pulling back when someone grabbed his arms and threw them down. He hadn't realized that his blood was pounding in his ears until he turned and saw Qrow talking, but no words could be heard over the thumping.

The gothic teen grabbed him by his jacket sleeves and pulled him through the door towards the dorms. Only once they'd gotten two hallways away, did the red in Hadrian's vision start to fade. Qrow yanked him along until he had the sense to pull himself free and walk alongside his closest friend.

The crow-haired teen looked him up and down twice before he stated, "Dude. What the Hell?"

Comfortable with the distance they'd made from the locker room, Haddy paused and leaned up against the wall with his hands in the small of his back. At some point, Sleigh had been taken from him and flung over his best friend's shoulder. Qrow stopped with him, crossing his arms as he leaned his weight on one leg. After a minute to compose himself, Hadrian drew out a long, irritated sigh.

"He's just an uppity, Atlas dick, Q," he grumbled.

Qrow pouted and said, "That you were going to shoot."

He mumbled something along the lines of deserving it before his friend sighed and asked, "Haddy, what's wrong?"

The husky shook his head and tried to explain, "He's just an ass. They all are. Everyone at Atlas Academy. Well, maybe there were a couple good ones, but not a lot, and they never actually stood up for us. I never cared when it was just me; but, he always brings everyone else into it! Leo, Ollie, Tadashi... I was supposed to make a difference there, y'know. Show racism who's boss and serve my fellow faunus. Instead, I ran here... they only see me as proof that my kind... that I was never cut out for this job..."

Qrow listened. No quips, no jokes. He was silent as Haddy continued to vent for just over half an hour. By the end of it, the husky wasn't sure how he'd held it together and kept the waterworks from flowing. When he was done, his best friend leaned over and gave him a tight hug. Haddy was almost taken aback by it; but after a moment, he reached around and clutched onto Qrow's back, burying his face into the crook of his friend's shoulder. He always smelled faintly of cinnamon and gunpowder.

After a moment, the gothic teen softly spoke, "I'm sorry, man. I really am. I can't imagine how hard everything has been..." he paused before smiling, "But, you're one of the greatest students at this Academy... and you're gonna prove it in the tournament and during your first official mission as Team Security. Who cares what some jackass from Atlas thinks? I think you're pretty damn amazing, and so does everyone else here. I don't think anyone could bounce back from what you have."

He might not believe it all himself, but he was glad someone did.

Haddy sniffled before he squeezed Qrow a little harder and pulled back from the reassuring embrace. He wiped his wetted eyes with his sleeve.

The husky was just about to thank his thoughtful friend when they heard a chuckle behind them, "Well, I would have to agree with Mr. Branwen..."

Both boys jumped as they whipped around, nearly knocking into one another, to see their young Headmaster standing there. He had his cane in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

"Professor Ozpin!" Qrow managed to choke out as he scrambled to get suited more casually, "What are you doing here?"

The silver-haired professor took a long sip of his coffee, letting the boys calm before he replied, "I'd heard there was an altercation in the locker room involving one of my students and one of our guests from Atlas and came to investigate..."

Haddy swallowed hard before the Headmaster followed with, "I trust the issue has been resolved?"

When the husky didn't initially say anything, Qrow nodded and replied, "Yes sir. Just a weapon's malfunction. Everything is just peachy!"

Ozpin turned to the dark-haired faunus for confirmation, which he hastily gave with a rigorous nod. He examined the pair critically for a moment longer before he faintly smiled.

"Very well then..." the professor said, turning to head back down the hall from which he came.

The boys momentarily breathed a sigh of relief before the Headmaster turned his head back to them and called, "Oh, and Mr. Snow..."

Haddy had already jumped back into a rigid attention as he replied, "Y-Yes sir?"

"Your team has suffered quite enough punishment..." Ozpin smiled, "You can resume your normal extracurriculars down in Vale if you so choose. Enjoy the Festival."

With that final message, the silver-haired mystery known as Professor Ozpin turned and walked around the corner, out of the dorm hall, leaving only the lingering smell of coffee behind. Hadrian let his shoulder slump as Qrow chuckled. The gothic teen lightly punched his arm as he smiled. At least one good thing came out of today.

As the pair started walking back towards their dorms, and his rifle was finally returned to him, Qrow said, "Hey, if you guys are free after the dance, there's this party that's going on downtown for students. Gene said that they'd be partying until dawn."

"Eh..." the husky replied, sticking his hands in his pockets, "We've got our mission that morning. But, I'll see what the R's and 'Roe think though."

As the pair continued to banter, they took the last turn towards their dorm and were met with the hulking figure of Ryder with his arms outstretched against either side of Team STRQ's door. Robyn was pushing against his back, trying to force him through the closed door as they argued. The pair cocked their heads to the side in unison as they watched on.

Finally, Qrow asked, "So... what's going on with them?"

Haddy sighed as he motioned for the gothic teen to follow him, "Man, you don't wanna know..."

Just when they'd just gotten close enough to hear, Robyn had finally gotten enough attention that Tai had opened the door. In an instant, the redhead jumped up so that her body was horizontal to the floor and summoned up a whirlwind powerful enough to break Ryder's hold on the wall. As they were flung into the room, Haddy heard both Tai and Ryder yell as Robyn cackled.

The dark-haired duo quickly ran up to see the scaled faunus sprawled out on top of Tai. Robyn's skirt fluttered as she gently came to a floating drop. Raven and Summer were doing their nails on one of the girls' beds, just staring in disbelief. As everyone gathered the bearings, Haddy facepalmed.

Ryder quickly jumped up, dusting himself off before he picked up the blond by his biceps and did the same. Poor Taiyang was disheveled as he gave a shaky thumbs up. The Stark girls looked from Haddy and Qrow to Robyn to Ryder and Tai.

"Are you guys done?" The raven-haired teen asked as she pulled her painted nails back from Summer.

The armadillo shot Robyn a dirty glare as she smiled on and said, "Well, Ryder just had a question."

"No," he sharply said, "I didn't."

With a pout, Robyn turned to Raven and asked, "Hey, do you have a date to the dance?"

"Robyn!" He snapped.

Before the pair could start to argue again, Raven simply answered, "Yes."

"You do??" Everyone shouted at once, whipping around to the raven-haired girl.

Offended, she stated, "Of course I do! I asked Taiyang to go with me, and he accepted."

Everyone looked to Tai, whose face was a fiery red. With everyone's eyes on the martial artist, Haddy spared a glance towards Summer. He felt bad for her, knowing just how much she'd been hoping to get the blond's invitation. She sheepishly turned away. If things kept up, both she and Ryder would be out of dates to the dance.

Internally, Ryder breathed a sigh of relief until Robyn started up again, "What if someone else asked you?"

"I'd decline," Raven answered, a little annoyed.

"What if--" the redhead started, but was cut off when Ryder nearly shouted.

"Seri'sly, R! Cut 't out!"

Everyone went quiet... because when Ryder Flaxen speaks up, it's important. Haddy could tell that he was ready to run from the room and forget the whole thing, but Ryder stayed. He took a calming breath and sighed.

"Th's 's all just a big misund'rstandin'..." he quietly started, "Robyn. I wasn't gonna ask Rav'n ta tha dance."

The redheaded Huntress-in-training pouted, "Then who were you gonna ask??"

When everyone exchanged a knowing glance, Raven deadpanned and blankly stated, "Really? He was gonna ask you."

Ryder's face lit up with blush as his lips formed into a tight line and his head whipped around to where the dark-haired assassin was sitting, fanning her nails. She clearly did not care for any kind of social graces, nor his pending anxiety. When his eyes finally retreated back to his best friend's, he saw the same redness across her cheeks.

He sighed, taking the letter out of his pocket and handing it to Robyn, who was positively red. She managed to stammer out, "But, you-- I thought-- Ryder--"

"I didn' wanna..." he started, rubbing the back of neck, "ruin... I guess 's tha right word... y'ur night..."

He had turned away from everyone by now, resting his palm against his dreads as he stared at the ground. So, he didn't expect Robyn's soft hand to land gently on his cheek and guide him to look down at her with a heartfelt smile.

"R... you wouldn't be ruining my night by asking me to the dance..." she explained, "My night would be ten thousand times better if you were my date."

Ryder frowned, "But'chu said y'u want'd an... intim'te night an' I-- I--"

"Don't like me-- or anyone for that matter-- that way," the redhead finished for him. When he nodded, she continued, "Ryder, that's okay. I'd rather spend my night doing crappy karaoke and dancing with you than some rando who was just hitting on me to get laid. R, you're so much better than those losers... you're my best friend..."

After a moment, the armadillo buckled and smiled sweetly. He leaned down and gently hugged her as she squeezed him tightly back. Suddenly, cheers and hollers whooped through the room, startling them out of the tender moment. Security and Stark were watching from the sidelines, now suspiciously joined by Monroe and a bowl of popcorn. Little to say, both R's faces burst with beet red blush.

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nahoyagf · 3 years

Text

motivation

charcters: mikey x reader x draken | aged up + afab reader

format: fic

warnings: NSFW, threesome, vv slight dub-con, double penetration, belly bulging, manipulation

other notes: inspired partially by motivation by kelly rowland

“pfft! really?” mikey laughed, voice filled with mockery and malice, “he’s never made you come?”

you don’t know how you ended up here. all you had wanted to do was come home after a long date with your boyfriend and then relax with your two roommates. mikey had pushed you into telling him what happened on this “date” after he saw the hickies running up your thighs.

though, as usual, his voice was teasing and full of laughter, mikey was actually pissed. both him and draken had a certain distaste for your boyfriend that you could never explain. first it was that he wasn’t seeing you enough and then it was that he was seeing you too much, they’re reasoning constantly flip flopped and after a while, you just didn’t ask why anymore.

that brings us to now, as mikey and draken taunt you for picking such a shitty boyfriend. in reality, he’s a very good guy and keeps you out of trouble unlike your two roommates. but it is true that he is terrible at sex. it’s just not his forte. which you’ve told yourself, lied to yourself, is fine and that you aren’t only with him for that.

you’re too caught up in your own thoughts to realize that mikeys pushing you down more into draken’s bed, laying you down. draken, who was previously laying back on his phone, rolls over and hovers over you. both mikey and draken are staring down at you in this very compromising position. and you feel yourself burn with embarrassment.

“c’mon mikey, i’m done with this conversation now. let me get up.”

“no,” mikey whined, voice still underlying a darker tone,”tell us more, y/n. pleaseeeeeee. is his dick small too?”

you’re face lit up red and embarrassed. the way they were teasing almost made it seem as though it was your fault for getting such a disappointing boyfriend.

“tch, it must be, huh?” this time his voice was quieter but a little deeper too. he looked at you with faux sympathy but you took it in a comforting way, happy that they were no longer putting the blame on you.

draken stared down at you with an anger in his eyes that made you shudder. you weren’t understanding how this once carefree and joking conversation turned serious.

“this is the guy you left us for?” draken’s tone dripping with disgust.

“what...what are you talking about?” you were beyond confused now, “leave you?”

“yeah,” mikey joined in, “left us. for this guy. that hurts, y/n, that really hurts.”

you stared at them. totally lost, but in a way you felt bad. you had been spending a lot more time with your boyfriend, you assumed your childhood friends weren’t used to the lack of your attention.

“i’m sorry, guys.”

“ tch,” mikey looked away with a slight pout and pretended to stare at the wall while thinking. in reality, he had come up with this plan for a while. finally getting draken on board only a few hours ago.

“what about this? if we fuck you better than your boyfriend, than you stay with us.” he said, matter of factly.

“but.. but... but... that’s cheating mikey i-“

“he’s been cheating you out of orgasms for a while.” he hummed, moving his head to suck along your neck. purposely covering the marks your boyfriend left.

“c’mon baby,” draken’s raspy voice sent heat through your body, made even worse when he began working on your neck too.

“we’ll make it fair by fucking you one at a time,” mikey cheerfully added, “at first.”

you couldn’t do anything but nod. desire in your bloodstream and too stuck to even think about disagreeing. just don’t think about your boyfriend, you told yourself.

draken sat back on his knees and undid his braid. the two looked like twins. long, blonde hair flowing down to their shoulders and deep, dark eyes filled with lust.

mikey decided he would take his turn first. it was his plan after all.

his fingers made quick work of your sundress and he started rubbing his fingers up and down your skin. feeling the softness of your body and the smooth, taut skin of places like your shoulders.

his hands pulled down your panties, admiring the cute pastel purple fabric that was topped with a white bow. you snapped your head away and covered your face with your hands. that wouldn’t do for when he’s fucking you, but mikey felt merciful enough to let it fly for now.

his hands made way to your bra and before he could snap the clip, you grasped his hands.

“please, just leave that” your voice was so soft and pleading, wanting to keep the one last piece of a boundary. mikey abliged, but only because of your voice.

his dipped his fingers into your cunt, pushing in to find that you’re wet. very wet. he smirks your way and draken’s eyes widen. he assumed that you’d be a good girl and stop yourself from giving in for the sake of your boyfriend. of course, you wanted to but you just couldn’t help it. or so you told yourself.

“you like this, baby?” mikey’s voice was much gruffer than you’ve ever heard before. you could only nod, but the sight made his heart swell, along with his cock.

he stuck his head down, face close enough that you could feel his breath against your dripping cunt. your boyfriend had never gone down on you before. his nose immediately hit your clit which caused you to whimper, and his eyes lit up. he pushed his two fingers all the way in, they were long and fairly thick. combined, they were about the same length and thickness of your boyfriend’s cock. a recognition that filled you with embarrassment.

mikey began making work of you, fingers going at a steady pace but making sure to curl and bend. tongue lapping your juices while his nose bumped and rubbed your clit. it was enough stimulation that you came, quickly and with a series of whimpers and moans that had draken palming his dick.

you were so dazed, you didn’t realize the sound of a zipper and then fabric rustling. mikey still had his baggy pants on but they were pushed down enough to expose his dick. it was long, curved slightly and dripping with precum. you had to admit, though with shame, that is was longer than your boyfriend’s.

he pushed your legs apart and the slight touch of his tip against your clit had you jolting. you were sensitive, and mikey couldn’t help the smirk of joy that came from that.

“mikey,” your voice was a quiet whine, filled with strain, “i’m sore.”

this time, draken leaned over to run his hands up and down your body. pressing kisses on you while rubbing little circles.

“don’t worry, sweetheart. i’ll make you comfortable.” he rasped, eyes meeting yours.

mikey nodded and snickered at his friends softness. gentle giant, i guess you could say.

he pushed the tip it and your eyes widened. as he made his way through, you couldn’t help the sounds that left your mouth. soon to be swallowed by draken’s. mikey finally bottomed out and let out a quiet moan. his hips began making slow and shallow thrusts as he adjusted to the squeeze.

“you’re so,” he panted out, “fucking tight. feels so fuckin’ good, baby.”

he began getting faster, longer strokes with more power. your body shook and draken cooed into your ear. mikey let out whimpers and groans. he couldn’t help it, he had dreamed about this for days. you felt the curved shape of his cock hit the spongy spot deep inside of you and your threw your head back.

“mikey!”

“fuck fuck fuck. baby don’t squeeze like that.”

you couldn’t help the tears that formed near your waterline. cries leaving you. he pushed in harder and faster and the constant rubbing against your g-spot made you come, hard. harder than ever. the intense squeeze had mikey letting out a long whimper and spilling into you. slowly pulling out as you gasped for air.

you were still recovering. eyes low lidded and staring as mikey laid back and watched his cum drip out of you while draken made quick work of his shirt and pulled down his pants. your eyes couldn’t help but widen at the sight of his cock. long, very very long and thicker than you ever thought was possible. your mind joked that he should’ve gotten a horse tattoo instead.

“you ready, princess?”

“it’s not gonna fit,” you said, voice filled with fear.

he chuckled at this and pressed kisses along your neck. his laugh was the most angelic thing you’ve ever heard.

“don’t worry, baby, i’ll make it fit.”

and as promised, he started to make it fit. the stretch burned so much that you started to cry and immediately he paused. wiping your tears. mikey stared at you before making his way behind you, scooching your body until you were halfway on his lap. head resting on his stomach while he held you tight. it was comforting.

draken continued in and groaned about the squeeze. he would’ve asked you to loosen up a little but he didn’t want to put too much pressure on your exhausted state. finally, he bottomed out. filling you in a way that you’d never felt before.

“drakennnnn” you could only moan out his name, and he bent over to kiss your lips.

he moved at a slow pace, pulling your legs over his shoulders and occasionally leaning down to capture your lips. the friction against your g-spot had you cumming lord knows how many times and draken could only continue to push on and on. mikey, was growing antsy. worried that you wouldn’t be able to handle another round.

he threw a telling look at draken and the taller man looked down at you, observing you with concern before sighing and nodding. mikey prodded your body until you sat on his lap, draken still inside of you.

“mikey?” your voice was airy and dazed, “what are you doing?”

he just kissed your jaw before starting to push inside of you as well. you gasped at the penetration. feeling the two of them in you. mikey groaned and whined. almost not making it long enough to fully push in.

“oh fuuuck baby.” he moaned out, blush covering his face and slight drool slipping through his mouth as he came the second he was sheathed in completely. despite being somewhat of a quick shot, mikey had stamina and began fucking his cum up into you.

draken started to move too and the pair found a synchronized slow but deep pace. you looked completely out of it. barely able to keep to your eyes open. you felt so full, you imagined this is what expectant mothers must feel like.

draken leaned down and kissed your lips while mikey left hickeys on your neck. you weren’t sure when your bra had come off but mikey was squeezing your breasts with needy hands. draken stared at your disheveled form and then began to push his large hand against the bulge in your belly. making you cry out.

“see that baby, that’s us. hm? put your hand here, baby, put your hand here.” you had no choice as he dragged your hand to the bulge and pushed harder this time. making both you and mikey cry out.

“oh baby, i don’t think i- ... i don’t think i can hold it in anymore,” mikey cried out and you agreed as you moaned. the two of you came almost at the same time and the squeeze mixed with the filling of mikeys hot cum had draken cumming too. he let out a low raspy groan and kissed your swollen lips.

you finally felt them pull out and slump next to you. your belly felt so hot and full and in the back of the mind, you swore that there was no way you wouldn’t be pregnant now. mikey cuddled up next to you and draken wrapped his large arms around you.

“so.. did we do better?” mikey asked, it was quiet and muffled against your skin. you could only mutter an ‘mhmm’ and drift off into a deep sleep. you’d have to break the news to your boyfriend in the morning.

#mikey x reader #manjiro x reader #manjiro sano #draken x reader #ken ryuguji x reader #ken ryuuguji #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #draken smut #mikey smut

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fandom-smut-shots · 3 years

Text

Keith Kogane - I’m Not Going Anywhere

Not Going Anywhere

A/N: Modern life AU.

Also, any genders and pronouns are acceptable to request. If not specified, I default to female, because that’s the majority of reader inserts in my experience.

Summary: You’ve been dating Keith for about six months, but you’ve only recently met his group of friends. He’s worried that they each have more to offer you than he does, and his insecurities eat away at him until you calm him down.

Words: 2,063

“Your girlfriend is coming to the party, right?”

Keith froze, glancing up at Shiro where the older man stood beside the stove, preparing a pot of spinach artichoke dip. He was a disaster at cooking actual food, but he’d managed to learn to prepare dips like a boss.

“Uh…” was all the black-haired boy managed in response, shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

“Come on, Keith,” Shiro chided gently, employing his best Older Brother voice. “You’ve been seeing this girl for, what, six months now? I think it’s time I met her. And what better time to introduce her to the gang than at your birthday party?”

“Do I have to introduce her to everyone?” Keith whined, glaring down at his breakfast. “Can’t she just meet you and be done with it?”

Shiro sighed, turning to argue when he caught sight of his brother’s expression. Keith wasn’t one for expressing his emotions, so Shiro had learned early on how to read the arch of his brow and the shine of his eyes. Keith currently looked crestfallen, which given the circumstances meant that insecurities were buzzing around inside his head.

“It’s going to be fine, Keith,” the older boy commented, taking a seat across from Keith at the table. “Everyone is going to love her, and she’s going to love your friends.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” was all Keith murmured before he stood, setting his cereal bowl in the sink before turning to skulk down the hallway towards his room.

“I’d love to go to his birthday party!” you squealed into the phone, balancing it between your ear and your shoulder so you had free use of your hands. “I’m almost done decorating his cake. I could bring it with me!”

“He’d love that,” Shiro chuckled on the other end. “We’re not a baking-inclined family, so it’s always store-bought cakes for us.”

“He told me he just wanted to do something simple to celebrate with me,” you returned, swirling icing atop the cake to add calligraphic decoration to Keith’s name. “I wonder why he didn’t tell me you were throwing him a party.”

“He doesn’t like being the center of attention,” Shiro reasoned.

You hummed in agreement. “That’s true.” Setting the piping bag on the counter, you paused, a frown forming on your lips. “It’s not… He wants me to come, right? He won’t be mad that you invited me?”

Shiro sighed into the receiver, and you bit your lip nervously. “He’ll be upset that I went behind his back, but I know him very well, and I think he’d enjoy the party a lot more if you were there. He’s just nervous about you meeting his friends. They can be a handful.”

“If you’re sure,” you replied. The last thing you wanted to do was upset your boyfriend while trying to celebrate his birthday. “I’ll be there. With a cake.”

“Perfect,” the man on the phone replied. “I’ll see you tonight. It’ll be great, I promise.”

You hung up the phone and set it on the counter, admiring your handiwork on your boyfriend’s cake. Exhaling softly, you tried to believe Shiro’s words. Everything would be fine.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you approached the front door of Shiro and Keith’s shared house. Carefully balancing the cake with one hand, you raised the other to knock on the door, waiting patiently but anxiously for someone to answer. The door opened to reveal Shiro, smiling widely upon seeing you on the other side.

“(y/n)! It’s so great to meet you!” he greeted enthusiastically. “I’m Shiro, Keith’s older brother. I apologize if I startled you with that phone call earlier – I wasn’t sure Keith would actually follow through and invite you.”

“He didn’t,” you giggled. “I don’t mind at all. I’ve been wanting to meet you for months.”

“Let me take that for you,” he offered, easing the cake out of your hold. He headed inside, nodding for you to follow him. You closed the door behind you, following the tall man- like seriously, how was he that tall?- into the kitchen. There stood a thicker boy, nearly as tall as Shiro, stirring and chopping like a professional chef.

“That cheese sauce smells amazing, Hunk,” Shiro complimented the cook, placing the cake on the counter.

“It’s almost done- ooh, where’d the cake come from?” the cook inquired.

“Keith’s girlfriend.”

The spoon being used to stir the cheese sauce fell to the floor with a clink, gooey cheese splashing all over the tile.

“Keith’s what?!”

The tall, tanned cook spun on his heel, a grin splitting his lips as he caught sight of you. “She’s real!”

Shiro laughed softly, stepping closer to you. “Hunk, this is (y/n). (y/n), this is Hunk, our resident chef. He shares a few classes with Keith.”

“I’m an engineering major,” Hunk explained, offering his hand. You placed your comparably tiny hand in his, giggling softly.

“It’s nice to meet you. Keith has mentioned your cooking.”

Hunk’s eyes sparkled at the confirmation that the emotionally constipated raven appreciated his food before he turned back to the stove.

“Hey, Shiro, what-“ Keith stopped in his tracks as he entered the kitchen, his eyes widening as he stared at you. “(y/n)? What are you doing here?”

“I invited her because I knew you wouldn’t,” Shiro explained.

“It’s okay that I’m here, right, babe?” you questioned, brows furrowing with worry as you took Keith’s hands in yours.

“Babe?” teased an unfamiliar voice. “Keith lets someone call him babe?” A tall, thin brunet sauntered into view, resting his elbow on your boyfriend’s shoulder. “Hey, who’s the hottie? She’s- ow!”

Keith’s elbow collided with the brunet’s rib, and he stepped away.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Keith murmured, lacing his fingers with yours, but you could hear the uncertainty in his voice. You stood up on your toes, pressing your lips to his, and he melted into the gesture despite having an audience. The brunet from before whistled at the sight, and Keith pulled back with a glare in his eyes and a blush on his cheeks.

“I’m (y/n,” you introduced, offering your hand.

“The name’s Lance,” the tan brunet grinned, taking your hand in his and lightly kissing your knuckles. You simply raised a brow in response, unsurprised when Keith ripped Lance’s hand away from yours.

“She’s taken,” he growled, wrapping an arm around your waist. You giggled softly, resting your head on Keith’s shoulder.

“Is that everyone?” you inquired, looking towards Shiro.

“Hunk!” another voice called from the hallway. “Are the nachos done? I’m starving- oh, hey.”

Finally, someone not insanely tall.

“I’m Pidge,” they offered, lifting their hand to their head in a salute. “You must be Keith’s girlfriend.”

“(y/n),” you countered. “Are you another friend of his?”

Pidge stole a chip from the bowl on the table, popping it into their mouth. “If that’s what we’re calling it. I’m friends with Lance and Hunk, and they kinda forced Keith to join the group.”

“I encouraged it,” Shiro replied. “My brother needs social skills.”

“I have plenty of social skills,” Keith grumbled in response.

Lance snickered loudly, Pidge choked on a ship, and Hunk chuckled from his place at the stove.

“I got myself a girlfriend without your interference, didn’t I?” your boyfriend defended, his grip around your wait tightening.

“How did you two meet, anyway?” Pidge questioned.

“I’m an art major,” you replied. “We met in Interpretive Painting.”

“Keith takes art classes?” Lance gasped, his voice raising several octaves.

“Makes sense,” Pidge shrugged.

“Interpretive Painting?” Hunk repeated. “That sounds like fun.”

“Ah, someone who will encourage my brother to keep working on his art,” Shiro smiled. “I already love her.”

Keith used his hand on your waist to guide you away from the others, leading you to the living room. He sat on the couch, pulling you onto his lap, securing his arms around you. Your own arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers toying with his thick raven hair. His nose nuzzled into your neck as he inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of your body wash.

“Why didn’t you want me to meet them?” you inquired softly. “They seem nice.”

“Too nice,” he murmured against your skin. “They’ll take you away from me.”

You pulled away from Keith just enough to lift his head, caressing his jaw with your hand, gazing softly into his violet eyes. “You don’t really think that, do you?”

His gaze dropped somewhere behind you – a tell that the current situation made him vulnerable and insecure.

“You heard them in there. I’m not social. How many times have you told me I suck at texting back? If you hadn’t been so friendly, I wouldn’t have even been able to ask you out.”

“So?” you questioned, brushing your thumb across is cheekbone. “I’m dating you, aren’t I? If you being anti-social was an issue, I wouldn’t have said yes.”

He sighed, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. “Lance is better at romance and dating. Pidge is smart, and you like a lot of the same games. Hunk can cook actual meals. They have more to offer you.”

Your heart broke at his honesty. You knew how hard it was for Keith to be so open, even with you. He must have been dreading the day you met his friends if he was this concerned about it.

Taking his face in your hands, you lifted his head until you can access his mouth. You gently pressed your lips to his, pouring your emotions into the kiss. He sighed softly against your lips, his arms tightening around your waist. You let one hand slide back to tangle in his hair, gently tugging on the strands.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised between kisses. “I love you, Keith. Befriending your friends means I get to spend more time with you and learn more about you. They’re not going to take me from you, I promise.”

“Dinner is done!” Hunk’s voice called from the kitchen.

You slid off of Keith’s lap, much to his dismay, and offered him a hand. “Come on, babe. Let’s go eat.”

He took your hand, lacing your fingers and squeezing softly as he followed you into the kitchen. Chips, cheese, meat, and vegetables decorated the table as a homemade nacho bar for everyone to dig into. Keith’s amethyst eyes danced around the kitchen, landing on an unfamiliar container on the counter.

“What’s that?” he inquired, turning his gaze to Hunk.

Hunk grinned. “(y/n) brought it.”

“It’s your cake,” you replied, shoving a fully-coated nacho into your mouth.

“You made me a cake?” Keith questioned, his eyes softening as he looked at you.

“The plan was for us to have a private party after you were done here,” you shrugged. “When Shiro invited me, I figured I might as well bring the cake.”

Keith dipped his head, pressing a loving kiss to your lips. Lance and Pidge cat-called from somewhere behind you, but Keith didn’t seem to mind. Shiro smiled from behind Keith, shaking his head softly.

After dinner and cake were thoroughly enjoyed, you followed Keith and his friends to the living room to watch movies. He sat on the couch and you reclaimed your place on his lap, snuggling into his chest. His hands intertwined with yours, his fingertips brushing your knuckles, and you peppered soft kisses to his jaw, reminding him that you were his.

While everyone was enthralled in the movie, you turned to face your boyfriend. You untangled a hand from his in order to lift it to his face, cupping his cheek. He turned his gaze from the movie to look at you, a soft expression in his eyes that only you were allowed to see. You shifted in his lap, pulling his lips down to yours. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss, gently nipping at your lower lip with his teeth. You were tempted to give in until you recalled your company, reluctantly breaking the kiss and settling back against his chest.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you murmured softly, squeezing his hand as you watched the movie. The kiss he pressed to the side of your head told you that he understood, and while you knew his insecurities wouldn’t be magically washed away, you also knew that he was trying and that was more than enough for you.

#voltron #vld #voltron legendary defender #voltorn x reader #keith kogane #keith x reader #keith kogane x reader #reader insert #fluff

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

Risk it - Harry Styles

a/n: this came so fast and typed most of it out at work lmao, but i kinda dig how it turned out!! hope you’ll like it too! as always, feedback is very much appreciated!

pairing: professor!Harry x Reader

warning: sexual content

word count: 11.8k

masterlist

You shake yourself a little bit to get rid of the spicy coldness that’s been lingering around in the city in the past few days. It’s only the end of August, but feels more like late October, though they say the warmness will return for a few more weeks shortly. That would be much needed, you’d love to enjoy some more lunches out in a park or down near the river before you are forced to withdraw into the insides for the rest of the year.

Looking around in the packed pub you look for the familiar golden locks of Piper and you quickly spot her in one of the corner booths, laughing joyfully with pinked cheeks probably from the almost empty pint of beer in front of her. Marching through the place you slide into the booth joining the group of three.

“And there she is!” Piper cheers.

“We thought you’re gonna bail on us,” Abigail snickers and you just roll your eyes.

“I said I would come, just had some work to finish before,” you tell them, shaking your cardigan down your arms quickly, the air is thicker, mustier and much warmer in here, but it’s not surprising, the pub is packed, just as usual on a Friday evening.

“You work way too much,” Piper shakes her head in disapproval as she downs the rest of her drink.

“I’ll be working way less from September.”

“Yeah, but you’ll spend the rest of the week in school, so it’s gonna be the same!” Mona chimes in with furrowed eyebrows.

“They promised me a fat raise if I get this degree within the next three years, I could definitely use the extra cash so I can finally buy my own place soon,” you explain.

You know they understand the situation and they wish you the best. They want to see you succeed in life and in your career, they just love teasing you about how dedicated you are towards your work, having to say immediately yes when your boss told you you’d get a new position and a raise if you finish the masters you never got to two years ago. You already had a handful of credits done that you’ll be able to get accepted, meaning you only have about one year worth of credits to finish in two years while working. It might get a little overwhelming to have an almost fulltime job and go to school but you’re determined to do this.

“We know, we know,” Abigail chuckles. “Alright, no more work or school talk tonight. We are here to let loose, so let’s get another round!”

Soon enough you are nursing a beer of your own, enjoying your time with your friends. It’s been long all four of you were free on the same night. Piper got married last year, Abigail’s work forces her to travel around a lot and Mona has a bitch of a boss, making her work overtime a lot, so it’s been hard to fix up a date that fits everyone. It’s been like this since you all finished your bachelors three years ago. You like to think you’re still a fresh little young adult who just barely stepped out into the big world, but it’s not true, hasn’t been for a while. You’re 24, you have a career, you live on your own, you take care of yourself fully. You are an adult, whether you like it or not.

Drink after drink, the four of you are getting tipsy, having an amazing time talking about the stories you shared back in university. Piper was your roommate first year uni, Mona and Abigail were in the room next to yours and you quickly became close friends, moved in for the rest of your studies until you all went your own ways after graduation, but keeping in touch as much as possible.

“I’m gonna get another one, but that’s gonna be my last one, because I have some work to finish in the morning,” you announce climbing out of the booth.

“No work talk!” Mona and Abigail shout at the same time making you laugh as you just wave them off and head to the bar.

You’ve been waiting for the line to get shorter, now only a few people are lingering around so you patiently wait for your turn, clutching onto your card in your hand. You don’t pay much attention to the tall guy next to you, only when someone bumps into you from behind and makes you fall against his side.

“Oh shoot, sorry! Someone pushed me,” you apologize immediately as the guy looks at you over his broad shoulder and your gaze meets a pair of green eyes framed with long lashes and a curious look in them.

“No worries, Love,” he smiles and you almost gasp at the British accent that laces through his voice. You take a quick moment to inspect the man, he is standing almost a full head above you, wearing a simple black shirt and brown slacks, a set of bulky rings sitting on his fingers that are spread out on the counter in front of him, his whole left arm covered in ink and you feel the urge to examine every figure on his golden skin. His chocolate curls are kind of a mess, but still look well placed, you bet he is the type who only runs his fingers through his hair and makes it look breathtaking. He is handsome and definitely your type, looks older than you, but you wouldn’t think he is over thirty.

“What’s your order?” he asks and your eyes snap up to him, realizing he is still looking at you.

“Huh?”

“What’s your order? I’ll get it for you so you don’t have to wait longer.” “Oh, I’ll just have a stout,” you tell him, feeling a little flushed from his offer. His eyebrows rise in surprise. “What?”

“Didn’t take you as a stout person is all,” he smirks at you as the bartender appears in front of him with his drink, asking if he wants anything else. “And a stout, please.” The guy nods and disappears to get your drink.

“I uhh—I only have card though,” you speak up realizing you can’t pay it back to him.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s on me.”

“Oh, no, that wouldn’t be fair,” you protest and he seems amused that you don’t just let him pay for your drink.

“How about this: you pay for the next round. Me and my mates are sitting over there, just come over when you finish this,” he offers, pointing at two guys sitting a few booths away from you and your friends.

“This was supposed to be my last round. I have to work in the morning,” you breathe out tilting your head.

“What? Work on Saturday? What kind of job is so cruel to make you work on a Saturday morning?” he asks with a boyish smile.

“One that pays my bills and most importantly my beer,” you chuckle softly.

“Okay, then make it just a soda,” he cheekily says and you feel giddy that this man is so keen on having another drink with you.

“I guess that could work,” you smile just as the bartender appears with your drink and the handsome man pays for the drinks, just then you realize you don’t even know his name. “I’m Y/N, by the way,” you tell him taking your beer. He tugs his wallet into his pocket before holding a hand out for you.

“Harry. Nice to meet you,” he smiles warmly and the moment you take his hand, you feel the tiny sparks. This man is surely something else. “I’ll be waiting for our next round,” he cheekily tells you raising his glass before the two of you part and go back to your own groups. As expected, your friends are already waiting for you with wide eyes and excitement, having witnessed your little chat with Harry at the bar.

“Who was that?! No, wait, it doesn’t matter. You need to go home with him!” Abigail smacks her hand to the table earning a chuckle from you.

“Don’t be dramatic, I just met him.”

“And you have to get to know him better. Deeper, you know what I mean?” Mona prompts.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you all. He is hot, but I’m not looking to day anyone right now.”

“You know, it’s starting to get boring to hear you say that you are just working on yourself these days. That’s not what you’re doing,” Piper gives you a look. “You are wasting your time on work and school and all these stuff that will be there when you’re older. Live a little, Y/N!” she begs.

“You guys make me appear like a no fun bitch, but that’s not who I am!” you defend yourself, though you know they just want the best for you.

“A fun bitch would ditch us right now and go over to their booth and then ride his dick all night.”

You gasp at the unfiltered answer you just heard from Mona, but deep down, you know she is right. You haven’t really let yourself be a little crazy in a while, your one night stands stopped the moment you graduated and stepped into the world of work. It just didn’t fit into your everydays, you had a lot to worry about, making a living and keeping your life on track, but you have it all now. What’s stopping you from hooking up with a cute guy?

“I’m not gonna just ditch you guys, came here to spend time with you!”

“Shut up, we are leaving then,” Abigail snaps, downing the rest of her drink in a blink of an eye and for a moment you’re speechless.

“What? No! We never get to spend quality time together, all four of us!”

“Honey,” Mona sighs. “We love you and we know you need this. So go, get the tatted hottie and we’ll meet up another time when you’ll get to tell us all about how good the D was.”

“Jesus, you guys are unbelievable,” you chuckle shaking your head, accepting the fact that they are really forcing you to do this.

They all quickly finish their drinks and get ready to leave, hugging you before they exit the place, leaving you alone in the booth. Staring down at the stout in front of you, feeling nervous to just walk up to the guys a few tables away, though Harry told you to go over, however he didn’t invite you to join their group, just promised another round.

You take a few long gulps, hoping the strong drink will bring out your courage and before you could talk yourself down you grab your bag and drink, heading over to Harry and his friends. He is sitting at the far end so he easily spots you walking over, perching up in his seat when he sees you approaching.

“Hey,” you greet them all with a shy smile, waving around. There’s a blond guy sitting across Harry and a brunette with equally as many tattoos on his arms as Harry.

“Hey, you haven’t finished your drink,” Harry observes with a small smirk.

“Um, no. But my friends left and I was wondering if I could… join you guys.”

“Oh, the honor is yours! Take a seat beautiful!” the blonde one immediately slides further into the booth so you can sit across Harry. “I’m Niall, what’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“So very nice to meet you,” he grins at you, words thick with Irish accent. “That’s Louis over there,” he gestures towards the third man who nods in your way with a welcoming smile.

“Hi. I’m hoping I’m not interrupting though.”

“Oh, never,” Niall shakes his head immediately. “We saw you chatting up Harry at the bar, have been teasing him about going up to you since then,” he cheekily comments and you see Harry giving him a look, but Niall couldn’t care less.

All three of them are hilarious and you love the dynamic in their friendship. Niall is clearly the loud one, Louis is the cheeky who is always up for some mischief and Harry is somewhat the serious bloke, but it’s clear he doesn’t say no to any crazy ideas his two friends make up. You love the teasing and joking, they make you feel welcomed and as if you’d known them for longer than just an hour. As promised, you pay for Harry’s next drink, but you stick to just a lemonade, not wanting to overstep your own boundaries.

All while you’re sitting with the guys, you keep catching Harry eyeing you, your gazes meet over your drinks and at one point you feel his leg finding yours under the table, your ankles pressing together as he nudges you with his feet. You feel like a giddy teenager flirting with her crush, Harry’s effect on you is probably very clear too, but you don’t care.

Louis is the first one to leave and Niall follows not long later, leaving you alone with Harry. The nerves are raging in you as you try to figure out which way to take it. Though he seems like a nice guy, you still don’t want to take it any further than a hookup. Dating is just not in the cards for you right now. But how do you imply a one night stand? Do you ask him to come to your place? Or do you go to his? You would rather go to his so you can sneak out first thing in the morning, spare you an awkward talk over breakfast before you leave.

“We should… get going too,” you suggest and Harry nods in agreement, finishing up the last gulps of his beer. You take a deep breath and decide to just be straight forward. “Maybe I could go to yours? Have another round there?” Your suggestion comes out fainter than you intended, but you still manage to sound confident. Harry seems a little surprised, but he doesn’t voice it.

“Another? Thought you were done for the night,” he tells with an amused smirk.

“I’m sure you have something alcohol free,” you shrug innocently.

“I surely do,” he nods. “Alright, let’s get going.

He calls an Uber and the two of you sit close in the car, thighs touching and at one point his large hand finds your thigh, squeezing it gently that sets a fire in your core almost immediately. It’s been long you’ve been touched by a man, you were starting to forget what it feels like, but you know Harry will remind you well about it.

He lives in a nice townhouse and you note how it’s not too far from the campus you’ll be going to a lot in a week. He keys the two of you in, switching the lights on in his cozy home. It’s not messy, more like lived in. A lot of books everywhere, the furniture doesn’t match, but all together, the whole place is pulled together somehow. It’s very like him.

“So, what would you like to drink?” he asks walking into the open concept kitchen, grabbing two glasses from the cupboard. “I have some tea, orange juice, water…”

As you watch his broad back, his muscles moving under the soft fabric of his shirt, you quickly forget about any drink. You want him and you want him now. Walking up to him you slide between him and the kitchen counter, catching him by surprise when you cup his face in your hands and pull him down into a hard kiss, but a moment later his arms wrap around you, lifting you up from the ground until you are sat on the counter. You open your knees so he stands between them, his crotch meeting yours as you kiss messily, all tongues, tugging and nipping, but oh my! You absolutely love it. The man has a mouth full of magic and you can only imagine what else he can do with those lips.

A whimpered moan leaves your mouth when you feel his growing bulge rub against your core as his lips travel down your jawline and throat, kissing and licking on your heated skin.

“Harry, bedroom,” you demand grabbing onto his shoulders and he doesn’t waste a moment, picking you up into his arms and heading somewhere down the hallway. You can’t quite comprehend what way it is, you’re way too lost in the feeling of his lips on your collarbone and neck, surely leaving marks on you.

He lays you down to a king sized bed and gets on top of you right away, following his wandering down your body. His ring clad fingers work fast on the hem of your shirt, pulling it off you in a moment before he kneels up and gets rid of his own shirt. He looks breathtaking, all the tattoos littering his chest and stomach, you just want to kiss all of them, feel his skin on your lips.

As he unbuckles his leather belt you push down your skinny jeans, throwing the item to the side without ever taking your hands off him. The man surely has all your attention.

When his slacks join the rest of your clothes on the floor he climbs on top of you again, kissing down the valley between your breasts that are still covered in the lacy bra. Your underwear doesn’t match, but something is telling you Harry is more eager to see you without them than to examine them. When he hooks his fingers into your panties and starts pulling them down, you reach to your back, unclasping the bra and in a blink of an eye, you’re lying completely naked in front of him.

“Fuck, you look so hot, Y/N,” he breathes out before those magical lips start working on your nipples, making you moan and whimper under him.

Kissing down your stomach he spreads your thighs wide, gazing down at your naked sex and for a moment you feel a little self-conscious, but the lust in Harry’s eyes quickly makes it disappear.

“You’re gonna let me have a taste, baby?” he murmurs, sending shivers down your spine as you nod eagerly.

He is not a tease. Harry dives right in, his lips meeting your clit, working his magic and you cry out his name, fingers tangling into his locks to keep him in place, not that he is about to stop anytime soon. He clearly enjoys pleasuring you.

“Oh fuck!” you gasp when his tongue runs down your slit and he slowly pushes into you, making your back arch. You need him inside you, you need him to fill you up right now or else you’ll burst. “Harry,” you breathe out, tugging on his shoulders, urging him to come back up.

He climbs up your body, a satisfied smirk on his glistening lips and when he kisses you hungrily, you can taste yourself on him.

“Condom,” you urge him, hands pushing down on his briefs, lips still locked as he reaches to the bedside table. You hear the familiar sound of the package ripping before he leans back, your eyes falling on his naked erection for the first time and your lips part seeing his cock, knowing already he’ll feel you up so well. He rolls the condom on easily before returning to you, but you don’t stay in that position too long. You want to ride this man, see him come undone under you. Being on top is already one of your favorite positions, but with Harry, you just know it’s going to be amazing.

You push on his shoulder and he understands your intention without a spoken word, so he rolls to his back and lets you straddle him, glancing down at his cock that’s now grazing his lower stomach, so hard and throbbing just for you. His fingers dig into your hips when you wrap a hand around his length, positioning him to your center.

“Oh fuck!” he moans when you ease down, his cock filling you up inch to inch, feeling so amazing like nothing before.

“Shit,” you breathe out gasping when you sit on him fully, taking his whole length inside you, stretching your insides so nicely, your wet walls hugging him perfectly.

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs lowly as you start buckling your hips, moving back and forth, up and down, the friction you’re creating swallowing you up entirely.

Harry can’t take his eyes off you, a hand wandering up to cup your breast and you cover his hand with yours, encouraging him to squeeze, making you moan passionately. He starts buckling his hips in sync with your movements, meeting you with every little thrust, hitting just the right spots, building up your orgasm so easily like no man has ever done before.

“Harry, oh God!” you moan, falling forward, leaning onto your arms next to his head, your lips meet in a hungry and demanding kiss as he wraps his arms around your body, thrusting up into you hard and so good, you whimper against his lips.

“You’re gonna cum for me, baby? I wanna see you feel good,” he pants, never slowing down. A few moments later he rolls the two of you around, your back hitting the sheets again as he moves one of your legs to rest on his shoulder, hitting a spot that almost makes you see stars.

“Oh yes! There! Don’t fucking stop!” you cry out so loud, you can only hope the walls are thick enough to keep your voice locked in the room.

“Not planning to,” he chuckles shortly before burying his face in the crook of your neck. You hold onto him for dear life, fingers digging into his sweaty skin, feeling as if you are melting into him.

Harry rocks into you relentlessly, your toes curling as you feel your orgasm finally arriving, making you gasp for air.

“Harry! I’m gonna cum!” you moan and he lifts his head, never stopping, not even for a second. His green eyes lock on your gaze, curls flopping into his forehead as he watches you in awe.

“Let it go for me, baby. Cum all over me, I wanna see how good I’m making you feel.”

“So fucking good!”

He picks up his pace just enough to make you lose your mind. It hits you like a pile of bricks, your orgasm washing over you in intense waves as you moan his name again and again. Your walls clench around him and it’s enough to throw him over the edge as well. His thrusts become uncoordinated and harder as his mouth hangs open.

“Fuck, Y/N! You feel so fucking amazing!” he whimpers through his pleasure and you watch him fall apart, panting and gasping for air, trying to remember every little detail about him. This is an experience you surely won’t forget and will probably fantasize about a lot when you’re alone at home, playing with yourself, seeking release.

A few more sloppy thrusts later he stops, kissing your lips passionately before he pulls out and falls to the mattress next to you. You both need a few minutes to recover from it, just panting and laying numbly next to each other, Harry’s arm thrown over your stomach. You turn to the side and immediately meet his glistening eyes, filled with satisfaction and bliss. When he finally recollects himself he pecks your lips softly before leaving the bed. You watch him remove the used condom, tie it and toss it into the small trash can near his dressed before he moves to the bathroom. When he reappears, he is wearing a fresh pair of boxers and he has a wet washcloth in his hand. Sitting beside you he gently cleans you up as you murmur your thank you.

“Want something to sleep in?” he asks then and you nod. He grabs you a t-shirt and a pair of loose shorts that you put on gladly. They smell exactly like him, soap, something citrus-like and a hint of anise.

He returns to bed and pulls you into his embrace, you gladly make yourself comfortable curled up to his side. Lying there, feeling his fingers gently running up and down your arm almost makes you want more from him. You could get used to share a bed with him and it’s not just because of the mind-blowing sex, but he is a lovable person. You feel bad you’re planning to leave without a trace in the morning, but then you tell yourself it’s what has to happen.

Harry doses off soon and you follow him right after, the warmth of his body puts you to sleep easily. When you wake up it’s still clearly early. Harry is sleeping soundly next to you, face squished into the pillow and you almost stay, wanting to see what he’s like in the morning, but you don’t let yourself change your mind.

You get dressed into your own clothes and leave the ones he lent you on top of his dresser. You tiptoe out of his room and grab your bag before looking for a piece of paper and a pen. You quickly scribble down a short note for him.

“Had fun last night. Hope you won’t be mad, but I only saw it as a one night stand. You’re an amazing man, Harry. I’m glad we met. Xx –Y/N”

It’s more than nothing, than leaving without a word and you don’t let the guilt take over you. Taking one last look around, glancing in the way of the bedroom where he is still asleep, you pack it all up and put it to the back of your mind before walking out.

The last week before your classes start passes by faster than you imagined. It’s your last week fully in the office so you try to work a little ahead, staying in afterhours so you won’t have that much to take care of while you get used to being a uni student again. You usually get home after nine and basically fall into bed right away, and you even work during the weekend before the Monday when school starts. You go to bed way too late so it’s not a surprise you wake up late. You get ready in a rush, throwing out your plan to get a coffee on your way out the window since you are way behind time. Running across campus you’re lucky you already know your way around so you don’t have to wander around, looking for the room you have to be at, but even when you finally reach the right hallway you’re ten minutes late to the class.

Introduction to International Relations, held by Prof. Styles, 8.30-10.00, it reads on the little timetable attached to the way next to the closed doors and you pray the man didn’t start in time, so you’d be late with just a few minutes. Taking a deep breath you push the door open trying to make no sound and unfortunately, you are met with an auditorium full of people, everyone looking at you as if it was against the law to be a little late to class.

What the Hell is wrong with students these days? Being late was usual when I was a freshman, you think to yourself as you step inside, closing the door behind you, getting ready to apologize to the professor.

“I’m so sorry, Professor Styles, I—Shit,” you end your sentence with a whisper as your eyes fall on the man standing on the podium. He hasn’t turned to you, his eyes are fixed on a paper in his hand, probably the syllabus because he must have been in the middle of introducing the class, but the sudden whispering that starts upon your apology that turned into shit, he finally looks up and his eyes fall on your frozen figure.

Professor Styles is none other than Harry. As in The Harry you met at the pub a week ago, had the best sex with and left without leaving your number to him in the morning. Now he is staring back at you with the same amount of panic and surprise as you.

“What—I uhh…” He clears his throat, looking around and seeing about a hundred pairs of curious eyes who are witnessing the awkward run-in. “Take a seat,” he then firmly says, clenching his jaw as you nod.

With your heart beating in your throat you keep your eyes down on your feet as you rush over to a free seat somewhere at the front, since the back is already kinda full.

“So, uhh—As I was saying this is an introduction so we’ll talk about a lot of different topics, I want you to have a view of the most important aspects before moving onto separate fields.”

You don’t dare to look up as Harry talks about the class, the syllabus, how the semester will be built up and what you’ll have to do to pass. Scribbling your wobbly notes, you nervously bounce your legs under the desk, flashbacks from your time with him popping into your mind through the whole lecture.

This feels like something straight out of a ridiculous movie. How is it possible, that the one time you finally decide to have a one night stand with a hot guy, he turns out to be your professor?! That’s just your luck, it seems.

Harry doesn’t drag the lecture long, dismisses everyone after an hour once every question has been answered. You plan to escape right away, but it turns out Harry doesn’t want to just sweep it under the rug.

“Can I have a word with you?” he asks stepping to your desk as you are furiously shoving your stuff into your bag.

“Uh, sure,” you nod, not like you have a choice. You’d love to run, but he is your professor, it would sit well if you ditched him on the first day of school.

You slow your packing down so you finish right when the last student has left the room. Grabbing your bag you turn to face Harry who now seems furious, vivid if you might say. He strides over to the door and shuts it before facing you.

“You said you’re working!” is the first thing he throws at you, making you raise your eyebrows.

“Because I am! I’m finishing my masters so I can get a promotion!” you defend yourself.

“Wait, so how old are you?” he asks with a puzzled look.

“I’m twenty-four, what did you think?” You feel offended, did he think you were younger or older? Neither would sit well anyway, so there’s no good answer.

“I-I don’t know, but when you walked right into my class I surely thought you were twenty or something,” he explains exhaling sharply. “Okay, so twenty-four. But still, you could have told me you are a student here.”

“Excuse you? Why would have I told you, we met that night, of course I didn’t share my whole fucking life with you! Besides, you didn’t say a thing about being a college professor either,” you spat at him and it seems like he realizes your argument is quite valid. He can’t blame it all on you.

“Okay, you’re right. Sorry.”

There’s a short silence as the anger dies down and the awkwardness and shock returns. It’s such an impossible situation, you never thought you’d have to deal with anything similar. Having an affair with your professor? This shit is straight out of some teenage drama.

“I can… drop the lecture, if you want. Only took it as extra credit, because I was interested in it,” you offer the first rational option that comes to your mind.

“No, I mean… you don’t have to. Messing around with credits at this time sucks, you wouldn’t be able to find something else.”

“Okay, so then what?”

“I guess we’ll just pretend like nothing happened,” he shrugs before his eyes meet yours. “Like you did in the morning when you left without leaving your number.”

His comment spikes, you can tell he was hurt that you didn’t stay, though now is probably not the best time to bring it up.

“Well, sorry. I didn’t think of it as more,” you dryly say.

“That’s not how you came off, however. Having laughs with me and my friends like we’ve known each other for years and then…” he doesn’t finish, but you have an idea what he wanted to say. And then you had insanely good sex and fell asleep cuddling. It feels illegal to even think about it in this building.

“Look, I’m really sorry I left like that, but look at it this way: if we would have taken it further, it would be way worse now, wouldn’t it?”

“Maybe we would have talked more later and found out about this and wouldn’t have had to face each other under these circumstances.”

He has a point, but it doesn’t matter now. The past is the past and you have to figure out how to treat this odd situation.

“You think you can forget about it and we can be professional? I really don’t want this to affect my studies,” you truthfully ask. Harry stares at you for a long moment before nodding.

“I think we can make it work. We are both adults, let’s put it behind us.” You nod, satisfied with his answer. “So what’s your major and why do you need it for your job?”

“It’s communication. I’m set to take over our international partnership groups, but the board is set on having someone with a higher degree. I told my boss I started it back then but never finished when I started working. He said I would instantly get the position if I finished my masters, so… here I am.”

Harry nods, chewing on your answer. Suddenly, as you look at him, guilt washes over you. He is such a genuine and lovely man, yet you left so abruptly, never even giving him a chance. Not that it would have made this situation any different, but it seems like you hurt him.

“Harry, I really am sorry for leaving. I had a great time with you, but I don’t think dating just fits into my life right now. I felt like you’d want more and I didn’t want to deal with all the explaining and apologizing.”

“I get it. It just would have been nicer to talk it out. Not that it makes a change now,” he adds with a soft smile.

“So we’re good?” you ask hopefully.

“Yeah. Professional and all,” he smiles nodding and you feel like a rock has been lifted off your shoulders.

“Great. Well, I guess I’ll see you later, professor,” you add a little cheekily and you see the fire in his eyes instantly, but he holds his tongue, not commenting on how sexual it sounds from your mouth. You couldn’t miss out on the teasing.

“Dismissed,” he nods turning away from you as he walks back to his desk. You walk out with the longest sigh that’s ever left your lips.

“Professor Styles! You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Piper screams at you over Facetime later that week when the two of you have your usual little chat. You’re making dinner while she lies on her couch, staring at you from the screen with the widest eyes. You just told him the whole thing with Harry and she almost choked. “The man is a professor? This shit is wild!” “Not just a professor, he is my fucking teacher, Piper!” you chuckle awkwardly. You still haven’t fully wrapped your mind around the fact that you hooked up with your professor.

“How old is the dude to be teaching at a university?”

“Well, he said he is twenty-nine. I might have done a little search and since he is british, schooling was a little different for him. Apparently, he finished high school early as a fucking genius that he is, then uni, masters and everything. He started teaching at my school two years ago. The guy is like a big name in the field of social sciences.”

“Damn, he is a gem. So what’s gonna happen now? Y’all gonna fuck on his desk after class?”

“Piper!” you snap at her.

“What? I hope you’re not thinking about passing on him.”

“I passed on him way before I knew he was my professor. We can’t have anything going on because one, he is my professor and two, because I’m not looking for anyone to date.”

“You are so full of bullshit, Y/N,” she snorts. “So what if he is your professor? Just for this semester. Keep it a secret and then it’s done. You’re not some eighteen year-old freshman, he is just five years older than you.”

“You can’t be serious,” you shake your head. “I’m not going to have an affair with my teacher.”

“Not an affair, a relationship! You gotta hold onto good dick if you find one. This is what I did with Ronan,” she smirks satisfied.

“Yeah, it’s not happening.”

“Why not?”

“Piper, have you been listening to what I was saying?” you ask in disbelief. “Yeah, five years is not much, but I’m pretty sure there’s a rule against teachers dating students.”

“Rules are for losers. You literally found the perfect guy and you’ll just throw him away? Said it yourself after your hookup that you liked the guy. Why are you being so difficult?”

“Sorry for not wanting to get myself or Harry out of the university,” you scoff turning the stove off under the sauce before you burn it all.

“Harry? So you’re just calling him Harry?” Piper wiggles her eyebrows at you, leaning closer to the camera and you just groan at her. How was this the only thing that stuck to her?

“I can’t fucking believe you,” you mumble under your breath.

“Okay, yeah, I get you. I truly do. But I’m also your friend who wants to see you happy. So I’m just saying that if he makes a move… be open. He is your professor for only one semester, so once it’s over you are free to do whatever. Fuck, date, anything.”

Soon enough you fall into a pattern with your everydays. Mondays, Tuesdays and Friday mornings are for school. Wednesdays and Thursdays are spent on campus at your lectures and you usually go into the office on Friday afternoons to make sure everything works fine before you go off for the weekend. Having so many credits accepted from before, you have less classes meaning that you have less work to do with school as well. There are a few papers and assignments, but nothing too crazy. You genuinely enjoy your classes, each of them unique in a different way but if you’re being honest, Harry’s class is your favorite. He has done a great job at building up the lectures. Introduction classes tend to be shallow and boring, but not Harry’s. He has chosen interesting but still important topics and he makes sure the students are always involved and he isn’t just reading up his slides dully. There are a lot of discussions, everyone gets to tell their opinion and Harry genuinely seems interested in anything his students have to say.

You also came to realize his class is full of girls, only a handful of men dared to sign up. You didn’t pay attention the first time for obvious reasons, but as you looked around the next week you saw heart eyes and lustful gazes towards the man standing on the podium talking. You’re not sure if Harry doesn’t notice it or just chooses to ignore it, but he is doing a good job at staying professional. In the aspect of your situation as well.

For a bit you were afraid he would have hard feelings towards you or treat you differently, but it’s not the case. You are just another pair of curious eyes and ears at his lectures, only that sometimes you catch yourself daydreaming about that one night. When that happens you can always feel yourself blushing and an irrational fear that Harry can hear your thoughts invades your mind, though it’s stupid. But you always try to stay low just in case.

It’s early October when an unexpected project lands in your hands at work, setting you back in your schedule. You work through the weekend just to get it right but that means that you couldn’t start working on your paper for Harry’s class that has to be turned in by the end of the week. So next Monday morning when class is over you walk up to him to ask for some more time.

“Hey, can I have a word with you?” you ask and as he glances up at you he seems surprised you initiated a private conversation.

“Sure, what’s the matter?”

“I just wanted to ask if I could have just a little more time to turn my paper in. I know it’s due Friday, but I’m a little behind and it would be amazing if I could work on it on the weekend. I’m sure I’d be done by next Monday.”

You’re afraid he might think you want to use your history and take advantage of it, but it seems like Harry looks more concerned than upset about your request.

“Yeah, sure. Everything alright though?”

Your eyes wander around the room, only a few more people are left inside and they are heading out as well. For some reason, you are a little paranoid that someone might figure out what happened between you and Harry though it’s nearly impossible.

“I’m good, I just got some extra work last week and it totally threw me off.”

“Oh, what kind of project?”

“I just have to put together a communication plan for three of our partners and it’s taking way more time than I expected,” you admit with a chuckle.

“I think I have an amazing book about international communication plans. I could lend it to you, if you’d like. It has amazing tips on sustainability.”

“That would be… amazing,” you say, surprised by his nice offer.

“Are you on campus tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I have a lecture. I can come by your office.”

“Fantastic,” he smiles warmly. “And don’t worry about the paper. You’re not the first one to ask for more time. If you hand it in on Monday it’s gonna be perfectly fine,” he assures you.

“Thank you Harry. I-I mean Professor Styles,” you correct yourself, feeling awkward that you called him by his first name, but he just chuckles.

“You can call me Harry outside class.” “Okay,” you smile nodding. “Then, see you tomorrow,” you say as you leave the room.

You spend the rest of the day working unfortunately, still a lot to do with your project. It’s hard to harmonize three different companies from three nations, working in different time zones. The next day you decide to skip your lecture in the noon. The professor is not too strict on attendance so you’re just gonna find a nice coffee place, set up a temporary office and work some more so you can finish everything on time.

You find Harry’s office easily. The door is open and you spot him sitting behind his desk right away, searching for something in a stack of papers. His office resembles a lot to his home, it has a cozy vibe but looks still very much academic with all the books lining on the shelves on the two sides of his desk. You knock on the doorframe as you arrive and his green eyes shoot up to your figure.

“Hey! Come on in!” he smiles at you. “Just a moment please,” he asks, still vigorously flipping the pages until he finally stops. “Here it is, I’ve been looking for it for ages,” he mumbles to himself and you smile. He looks a lot like the version of him you met at the bar. A fun, nice guy, clearly a little lost in his own world, but it amuses you rather then annoys. You wonder what could be happening in that brilliant mind of his.

He pushes himself away from the table and walks over to his bag that lies on the small sofa in the corner. Digging into it he pulls out a thick book that he hands over to you.

“Wow, lengthy,” you chuckle as you flip through the pages quickly.

“Yeah, looks a little dry but I promise it’s good. I put a note to the chapters that are the most relevant to you,” he explains and just then you spot a yellow post-it on one of the pages, a few more following behind.

“Oh, thank you. That’s really nice of you.” You smile up at him warmly, holding the book to your chest. “I’ll bring it back as soon as I’m done.”

“Take your time,” he nods. “And how is it going so far?”

“Uh, it’s… going,” you say with a tired chuckle. “It’s a little tricky, but I’m sure I’ll solve it. I’m gonna work some more on it now, so hopefully I’ll be done within the next few days.”

“You’re not going to class?”

“No, I allowed myself a skip this week so I’m gonna find a café or something.”

“You could… stay here, if you’d like. I could even help if you let me have a look at it. I mean I’m not an expert in communication but I’m good with multicultural stuff.” His offer catches you by surprise and for a moment you want to say no, but then you realize he might actually be helpful. Another set of eyes is always beneficial.

“You don’t have a class?”

“Not until four, no.”

“And you sure I can stay? I don’t want to bother you.”

“You’re not. Please, I would love to take a look at what you’ve put together.”

You hesitate for another moment, but then let your bag slip off your shoulder as you walk over to the armchair in front of his desk.

You pull your laptop out of your bag and set it on the table so both of you can see from the two sides of the desk. You open up what you have so far, explaining it in details and Harry listens intently, nodding and humming along so you know he is following. At the end you tell him your concerns, the ones you’ve been trying to rule out these past few days so you can finish it all up.

“This looks amazing, Y/N. I’m very impressed by the way you synchronized it all.” “Thank you, but it’s not perfect, so I have a lot to work on. Any thoughts though?”

Harry asks you a few questions before he gives his two cents, telling you what he would do and change. His point of view actually helps a lot, allows you to see the whole thing from a different angle and he gives you some awesome tips. Before you could realize, the two of you are deep in the project, all kinds of books splattered across his desks as you work together to finish the thing. Two hours pass by as it was just two minutes, but at the end, you have it all figured out.

“Oh my God. I can’t believe it’s done!” you breathe out, scrolling through the document you put together for your boss. Everything is put together, well-thought and in place, thanks to Harry’s help. “Harry, thank you. You literally saved my life,” you chuckle softly, leaning back in the armchair you haven’t left in hours.

“You had a strong base, I just helped you find a few solutions, but it was all you.”

“Don’t belittle it, you literally had so many ideas even in fields you are not familiar with. You really are a genius.”

“I’m just good at using my sources,” he smiles at you, glancing down at all the books he has pulled out during the process. “It was fun working on something so practical, I’m way too used to literal things.”

“Oh stop, you want me to feel bad because you are this ridiculously smart college professor who doesn’t get to work on practical projects?” you tease him earning a boyish smile.

“Maybe I do want that.”

“Well, you’re not getting it,” you laugh and he joins you. Once the mood settles you realize how good it felt to be around him. The dynamic the two of you had was so great, working with him felt like a fun activity. And now that you’re done, you really don’t want to leave this office though you know you have to.

“You know, I might come to you with work stuff all the time. You just spared so much time for me, I really thought I wouldn’t finish before Friday.”

“My door is always open,” he smirks shrugging. “I’m glad we got to work together. You really are great at what you are doing. Your boss is lucky to have you around. I’m sure you’ll be an amazing group leader once you get your degree.”

“Thank you.”

His compliment actually means a lot. Aside from this weird situation, Harry is a brilliant mind in his field. Hearing him tell you that he thinks you are doing an amazing work is such a boost to your ego.

“Well, I owe you one for this,” you tell him as you start packing up.

“Yeah? I’ll keep that in mind for sure,” he smirks, watching you put your things away.

“Mhm, see you around, Harry,” you smile, waving in his way before walking out.

“See you, Y/N.”

Thanks to Harry you get to turn in your project in time and write his paper until the original due date as well. You send it in email and for your biggest surprise he answers later that day.

“Glad you could finish in time, can’t wait to read your thoughts on the topic! –H”

It’s a simple message, but what catches your eyes is the signature at the end. It reads his full name, Prof. Harry Edward Styles, the school’s name, his official office hours and at the very end… his phone number.

Looking at it you think it seems a little out of place, as if it doesn’t belong there originally, he just added it to your email, but you can’t tell. Is this a hint? Does he want you to call or text him? What if he puts it into every email, not just yours? Would it be awkward to text? Why do you even want to text him in the first place? You agreed to stay away from him!

It keeps eating you the whole evening, staying on your mind, doesn’t matter what you do. After you’ve drunk a glass of wine with your dinner you finally make up your mind, convincing yourself it’s strictly friendly as you type in the words.

Y/N: Turned my project in, my boss already emailed me he likes it so far. Thanks for the help again. –Y/N

His reply comes fast and luckily, he doesn’t question why you decided to text him.

Harry: Glad I could help! Ran over your paper, looks great too. You’re doing an amazing job, Y/N.

There’s no stopping after that. The two of you keep talking through texts and though it’s all casual and friendly, you don’t feel bad about it, because in class, you still keep it professional and you have no advantage. He treats you just like any other student, keeping your friendship away from whatever happens in the classroom.

The line slowly starts to blur, however. You think way more about Harry than you should and you actually find yourself regretting that you’re not able to get as close to him as you want. He fascinates and attracts you in ways no one ever could before and something is telling you he shares these feelings, but you are both keeping it at bay, afraid what would happen if you let your desires take the lead. You just wish you could go out with him, have drinks with him and his friends like the night you met him, forget about how he would always stand on the podium on Monday morning no matter what happens and he’ll be grading your papers. Mixing feelings with this impossible situation might turn it into a disaster and you know you have to stay strong, but it’s getting harder.

Harry is the kind of teacher who likes to finish his class before everyone else, so when December rolls around everyone already has their grades from the papers that had to be turned in through the semester, so when December rolls around it’s all just free talks, he starts interesting discussions about topics students want to talk about. His lectures feel like free time but still, no one skips them because they are always so entertaining and interesting.

“Alright, we’ll meet for the last time next week. As per suggested, we’ll talk about the European Union so get your questions and thoughts ready,” he smiles around, ending the lecture. “Y/N? Can we talk for a second?”

“Sure,” you smile at him. Putting your things away you walk up to his desk much more carelessly than before.

“So I have a question and you can totally tell me if you don’t want to go, but there’s this great International Affairs Summit next weekend just a few towns over, not more than a two hours ride. I thought that you might be interested in going? They’ll have some awesome presentations and displays, thought it might interest you.”

For the first time since you’ve met him, he seems nervous, stumbling over his words a little as he avoids looking into your eyes. He looks so much younger, not at all like the respected professor that he is. He is just Harry now, the guy you bonded over that stout he paid for.

“Sounds nice,” you answer smiling at him, he seems surprised at your answer. “I would love to go.”

“Really?” You chuckle at his disbelief.

“Really.”

“Just to be clear it’s not a school thing, it’s gonna be the two of us,” he clears and your grin widens.

“It’s clear. Still want to go.”

“Amazing,” he breathes out, a smile finally tugging on his lips. “I can pick you up in the morning.”

“Sure. Can we discuss the details in text? I have a meeting soon.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. We’ll talk later,” he nods enthusiastically, seemingly very joyful that you agreed to go on this trip with him.

“See you later, Harry!” you wave at him walking out of the classroom.

“Later!”

Piper would be very satisfied to know that you are going away with Harry this weekend. Though you still try to tell yourself it’s nothing more than just a friendly thing, you’re not fooling yourself. You want it to be more and now that the semester is over, your doubts and fears are almost fully forgotten and left at the beginning of September. Soon Harry won’t be your professor and you now see that it wouldn’t be that bad if something more happened between the two of you. You grew close through the year even though you only kept in touch through phone, appearing publicly wasn’t really an option, but still, you got to know him better and you liked him. A lot. There was no use in denying that.

Harry picks you up early in the morning and so the little trip begins. You take control over the music and play some of your favorites to him while he drives, educating him on recent popular music. Then he shows you some of his favorites, playing a lot of Fleetwood Mac and you weren’t expecting anything else from him.

He looks great today in a creamy colored knitted sweater, black wool coat and grey checkered slacks. His hair is now longer than when you met him for the first time, but it just adds to his amazing look, he rocks it pretty well.

The two hours pass by fast and you arrive to the Summit. Checking out the program the two of you choose the presentations you’re most interested in, leaving some time in the middle of the day to have lunch somewhere near.

You choose a sandwich bar that has a nice winter garden at the back looking out to a little pond. You sit at a small table, the conversation hasn’t stopped since the morning, only paused when the presentations were happening, but you always picked up right where you were before. Harry tells you about his time at university back in the UK and you’re a little surprised to hear that he was kind of a wild kid for a while.

“You? Wild?” you laugh. “I can’t picture it.

“It was mostly the first year though. Felt like I can’t miss out on anything so I was at every party and gathering,” he chuckles softly.

“And why did you stop?” “I don’t know,” he shrugs, but you know he is not telling you the truth, so you gently kick his leg under the table. “Alright, but you can’t laugh!”

“I won’t, I promise!”

“It sounds very nerdy, but I fell in love with studying. I mean I was always a good student, that’s why I could finish high school earlier, but I did it to be done with it already. But then I grew an odd love to studying, to learning new things. I wanted to read every book there is, know everything in the world.”

“And do you know everything now?” you ask with a soft smile, completely in awe with how he talks about his passion for sciences. You don’t find it funny at all, more admirable.

“Not even a fraction of it,” he chuckles. “But I learn something new every day,” he shrugs.

“What did you learn today?”

“That Nicki Minaj and Miley Cyrus had… beef?” He is a little unsure about the last word that you taught him today in the car when you were listening to a song from Miley. It sounds so funny hearing from his mouth.

“Yeah, beef,” you nod chuckling. “Great knowledge you’ve learned today.”

“I learn a lot from you,” he smiles cheekily. “But really. I’m glad you could come today. Felt like I needed to take this step since you took the one before this.”

“Huh?” you ask, a little confused about what he is talking about. Then, as if he realizes he just said something he shouldn’t have, he chuckles nervously, keeping his eyes on his iced tea on the table.

“Well, I hope this won’t be too weird, but when you emailed me your paper back in October and I replied… I put my phone number into my signature and told myself that if you use it, I’ll take it as a hint that you… are open to more. And you did send me a text, took the risk so I thought I should be taking it next.”

You look at him in awe. So you were right, he did put his number in just for you and wanted you to use it. You’re amazed at how sneaky he was to find out how you’re feeling about him, but now you’re glad you took the risk and texted him.

“So you asked me to come today. I see where we are standing,” you nod smirking.

“You’re not mad? At the number thing?”

“Why would I?” you ask with a soft chuckle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yes, but we agreed to keep it professional and all along I yearned for something more and threw you this hint. When I sent the email I wanted to take it back immediately, thinking that you’d see through me right away,” he admits.

“Well, I didn’t,” you tell him making him laugh. “I debated for a long time whether I should text you or not and then just… said fuck it!”

“I’m glad you did,” he smirks and his gaze holds yours for a little, you can feel the moment you’re sharing. This conversation has definitely opened a door for the two of you.

The rest of the day passes by peacefully. You love having Harry with you and discuss the presentations with him later. He has a great mind, you love sharing your thoughts with him, get deep whenever something really catches your attention. It’s so easy to talk to him and you actually feel like he values your thoughts, unlike some men you had to deal with in the past.

During the ride back home you keep thinking about whether you should take it any further or not. You surely don’t want him to be just a one night stand anymore, it’s still very fresh but you actually feel like you’ve started falling for him and you wonder where he is standing in the situation right now. Today has changed a lot so when he parks in front of your building, you decide to just risk it again, like you did it so many times with him.

“Would you want to come up for a little? I could show you that article I talked about today,” you say, trying to sound calm though you see the surprise in his eyes, he wasn’t expecting this invitation.

“I… would love to. You sure it’s not too late?”

“Positive,” you smirk at him unbuckling yourself.

He follows you up to your apartment. It’s definitely not as big as his home, but you take pride in it. It’s the perfect size for you and you’ve worked a lot on making it your home. Harry is looking around, inspecting the place as you walk into the small kitchen and grab two bottles of beer, offering one for him.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, following you to sit on the plush couch you adore so much. It feels like a cloud is swallowing you up. “This place suits you.”

“Thanks. You know, this is what I thought about yours too.”

“Yeah? I think mine is just a mess,” he chuckles, taking a sib from his beer.

“It’s a good mess. Liked it.”

There is some tension, but in a good way if you might say. As if you both were unsure about where it’s heading, walking on eggshells, not knowing where the boundaries are lying as of right now.

“You know, the semester is almost over,” you imply, giving him an innocent look.

“I’m very much aware of that, the pile of tests on my desk waiting to be graded reminds me every day of it,” he chuckles making you smile too.

“Mhm and it also means that very soon you won’t be my professor anymore.”

You scoot closer, your knees coming in contact with his thigh and he sucks on his breath, looking down at the spot where you two touch. You really hope he won’t turn you down, because you’ve already gotten your hopes up about making it work.

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” you nod confidently. He doesn’t move and you’re losing patience. So grabbing his beer from his hand you place his and yours as well to the small coffee table before shamelessly swinging a leg over him, sitting on his lap. Your hands rest on his broad shoulders and his hands immediately find their way to your waist, his thumb caressing the skin that shows from under your ridden up shirt. However you see hesitation in his eyes.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s going on in your head, talk to me,” you ask him softly, tilting your head to the side.

“I just… I know soon it’s gonna be alright for us to… you know. But I… I hope you know it’s not a game for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“That I’m all in, Y/N. I know it’s been a crazy few months, but I really like you. A lot. I love talking to you, I love it when you are talking so passionately about things that interest you. I love how open and hardworking you are. I think that you’re an amazing person and I don’t want this to just be some passing, quick thing. I’m serious about this. About you.”

You can’t hold your growing smile back as your hands move up to cup his cheeks. Leaning closer you peck his lips softly.

“Great. Because I’m serious too.”

Harry breathes out in relief and a second later he is kissing you hungrily, letting his desire take over after holding back for so long. You weren’t the only one having a hard time during lectures. He hated how he always found himself looking in your way, thinking about how beautiful you are, how amazing it felt to hold you in his arms and it ached his heart that he had to keep himself so far away from you. When you took the risk and texted him, he could cry in excitement and he knew right in that moment that he is fucked for you.

Though it started a little rocky, now that he has you in his arms again, he wouldn’t change a thing, because it brought him to this very moment and he is overwhelmed with joy. He is more than ready to show you how serious he is about you, not just with his words but his actions, so he is quick to leave the couch and navigate into your bedroom to relive that mind-blowing night the two of you shared back in late August.

“Congrats, Miss Y/L/N. We are looking forward to seeing you work your magic as the leader of the group.” The executive manager shakes your hand and you see your boss from the corner of your eye, looking at you proudly.

“Thank you. I won’t disappoint,” you smile back.

You say your goodbye to everyone else in the room before finally heading out with the widest smile on your face. You did it. You finally got the promotion.

You finished your masters just a month ago and this meeting was scheduled almost immediately. For a while you were afraid they wouldn’t wait until you finish your studies, but they proved that they wanted no one else but you, making you feel so valued.

Walking back to your office you do the rest of your work left for the day, finishing up every pending task so you can be free for the weekend. When five o’clock finally comes you pack up and head out. Pushing through the double doors you step out into the warm July afternoon, immediately spotting a mop of curls you know all too well. Harry is waiting for you leant against his car with a huge bouquet of flowers, smiling at you with pride as he watches you cross the parking lot.

“What’s this for?” you ask teasingly when he pushes himself away from the car and kisses you softly before saying anything.

“A little something to celebrate your promotion.”

“How do you know I got it?” you ask, trying your best to sound serious. He narrows his eyes at you in suspicion.

“I knew you’d get it, who else would get it? Did they not fucking give it to you?” he asks, working himself up at the thought that you weren’t the one to get promoted.

“Relax, I got it,” you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him a little longer this time.

“I was ready to fight whoever I needed to,” he mumbles against your lips, a smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth.

“What a gentleman,” you giggle pecking his lips again.

“That I am. And not just because I would throw a fist for my love, but because I knew you’d get it so I went ahead and booked us a mini vacation for this weekend. So let’s head home, you have thirty minutes to pack before we leave,” he smirks down at you, clearly satisfied with himself.

Harry is always full of surprises. In the one and half year you’ve been officially together, he never failed to surprise you with the tiniest things, make you feel loved and appreciated no matter how long you’ve been dating.

“Where are we going?” you ask in excitement, eyebrows shooting up on your forehead.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”

Harry listened to every hint you’ve dropped how you’d love to spend some time away in some cabin in the woods, disconnecting from the world just for a little and he found the perfect place for that a few hours away. He knew you’d be the one to get promoted so he took the risk to book it weeks ahead, making sure you’ll have the perfect place for the celebration. You have a slight guess it’s gonna be like that because Harry is great at taking hints, but what you doesn’t know is that deep down his already packed suitcase, there’s a little velvety box with a ring inside it that he plans to put on your finger this weekend, hoping you’ll give him the answer he wants to hear.

And you will. Because you are head over heels in love with this man, have been for a while and you want to spend the rest of your life with him.

The two of you head home and your hand finds his over the shifting gear, lacing your fingers together with his. Glancing at you he kisses your knuckles, pressing a long kiss to your empty ring finger.

“I love you,” he tells you and the three little words never fail to make your heart flutter. While the lamp is still red you quickly lean over and steal a kiss from his soft, pink lips.

“I love you too, professor,” you tell him teasingly. He didn’t like it when you called him that back when he was still just your professor, but since the air has been clear, he grew a liking to it, especially because he can’t get enough of hearing you moan it in the bedroom.

You call him a lot of other pet names too. Baby, H, Har, Sweets, whatever comes to your mind while he likes calling you his baby, Angel, Princess or Love. And as the two of you head home he thinks about how he wants two new names to be added to the list. Husband and wife.

Thank you for reading! Please like and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

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