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#not in frame is my regular desk mess
geeky-politics-46 · 6 months
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Kinktober 2023 - Day 2
Adultery with Arthur Shelby
"Just One Bite"
Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!
Summary: You & Arthur take comfort in each other's arms after Linda aims her wrath at both of you.
Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - adultery/extra-marital affair, injury/blood (only a little), jealousy, reference to potential verbal/mental abuse from Linda, swearing, pet names, fingering, creampie, vaginal sex, light dirty talk, little bit of fluff, little bit of angst
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From the moment you had been moved into the position of Arthur's secretary, his wife Linda had marked you as a whore out to steal, or at the very least corrupt, her husband. 
It was like she thought you had been sent personally by the devil to lure him away from Linda and negate her religious appeals to Arthur. You were the snake in the garden of Eden and yet somehow also the apple. Tempting Arthur to take a bite of you. You were an apple Linda was sure her husband could never resist. He would never be able to resist you and all that came with you after just one bite of your forbidden fruit.
None of that had been your intention, of course, at least originally. When you saw Arthur, you saw a man who needed help. You saw a man struggling to hold onto himself as he was pulled in all directions by opposing riptides. You just wanted to be the buoy to help keep him afloat or the lighthouse shining in the distance, showing him where the shoreline was. You wanted to help him and the rest of the Shelby's, and so that became your job.
It was Linda and her cruel behavior towards both you and Arthur that had driven the two of you together. That first night anything happened, it had all been because of her. She had stormed into his office at the Garrison in a rage over something, and once she was done with Arthur, she was still hungry for more blood. So she set her sights on you. Verbally abusing you and destroying your desk in the process. You knew she was probably high on cocaine. That was the only way you could explain the venom that she unleashed that night towards both of you. 
After she had finally left, silent tears started to slide down your cheeks. You refused to let her see you cry. Her words had cut far deeper than the damage done to your belongings and the business papers she had thrown around. In silence, you got down onto the ground and started cleaning up the mess. Uncrumpling and trying to piece together torn bits of paper. As you worked, you hadn't realized that Arthur was watching you or that you had kneeled down on shards of glass from a broken picture frame until he said something. 
"You're bleeding." 
His voice made you jump, and suddenly, you felt the small cuts on your knees. Stinging with the sudden movement. Quickly rocking to your feet to relieve the pressure on your newly discovered injuries. Blood smeared on the floor, several papers, and yourself. 
"I'm so sorry, Arthur, uh, Mr. Shelby. I'll get this cleaned up right away, and I'll retype any papers that I soiled or were damaged before I leave tonight." 
Just as quickly as you finished talking, Arthur responded. Your eyes snapped back up from the papers you had been trying to gather up. A softness in his blue eyes. You weren't sure whether it was sadness or caring. Maybe it was a mixture of both.
"No. No, you won't. We will clean this up together,  but only after you let me fix you up. Don't want one of the only nice, tolerable people in this city out sick because she let some silly cuts get all infected." 
You gave him a soft smile for his kindness. Still planning to dismiss his gestures, but he didn't give you the chance. 
"Come 'ere. I got a kit in my desk. Besides, it was my wife who made this mess. It's my job to clean it up, and that includes you." 
After quickly pulling the tin box from a drawer and grabbing a bottle of alcohol he patted the top of his desk. Signaling for you to sit there as he plopped down in his regular chair. He took a long swig from the bottle of whiskey and offered it to you. You followed suit. Needing something to calm your nerves, both from Linda's explosion and from the fact that you were currently sat on your boss's desk and you knew his head and his hands would soon be rather close to your most intimate places. You couldn't help but notice the flutter of butterflies in your stomach.
You crossed your legs at the ankles and squeezed your thighs together as you pulled your skirt up just over your knees. Your stockings were clearly ruined. They had become more or less shredded from the glass and tinged red from your blood. A sad sigh fell from your lips as you surveyed the damage. Arthur surreptitiously casting sidelong glances at you as he unpacked the first aid box. 
"These were my favorites too." 
"I'll make sure you get a little extra pay this week. To replace them. It's only fair. It's my fault, after all." 
You shrugged at his statement. If Arthur had his way, he would blame everything in the entire world on himself. That was one of the things you desperately wanted him to see differently. 
"Linda seems to think it's my fault."
"Yeah, well Linda's fucking mental. Not sure anything could ever be your fault. I'm not sure you've ever even made a spelling error, let alone any of the shit she's on about." 
You giggled at that. Your smile making his freckled cheeks blush just a tad.
"Well, if you think I've never made a spelling error, you may need your eyes checked, Arthur." 
You both shared a little smile. The flutter in your stomach picked up again as you looked into his eyes. A flush started to show more clearly on his cheeks before he quickly looked down. Starting to survey the scrapes on your knees. Clearly unsure of where to put his hands. 
"Ummm… I think I actually need to take these off. To make sure there isn't any glass in the cuts." 
He waited for you to respond, glancing up at you under his thick eyelashes. Part of him was waiting for you to shove him away for even suggesting he take off your stockings, but another part of him was ready to beg like a dog for a chance to touch you. 
Perhaps there was some truth to some of what Linda had accused him of. He did harbor a bit of a crush on you, but he was sure you were completely unattainable to him even if he wasn't a married man. Someone so sweet, intelligent, and drop-dead gorgeous would never fall for him. You were so far out of his league that you were in a completely different ballpark, and yet you didn't act like it. You didn't snub your nose at him or his family the way Linda always had. 
"Oh, um, okay. I trust you, Arthur." 
Your voice was a little shaky as you said it. Only because you couldn't read his emotions. Did he want you to do it? Or did he want to do it himself? 
In all honesty, you kind of wanted him to do it. You were already getting blamed for having an affair with him, when in reality, you just had a stupid school girl crush on your boss. This was probably going to be the closest you ever got to living out one of your fantasies. So, without another word, you kicked off your shoes and waited to see what would happen next. 
Arthur slowly placed one hand on your shin, gauging your response before slowly moving it up to the outside of your thigh to find the top of the stocking and your garter. Making sure you didn't protest before his other hand followed, this time on the inside of your thigh. Your legs spreading just enough to allow his hand access. Slowly pulling your garter off and setting it to the side before moving back to slowly start peeling your silk stocking down your leg.
His breath hitching when his fingertips brushed the supple skin of your inner thighs. You were so warm, and your skin was so incredibly soft. He had to bite on his tongue to keep from groaning. He repeated his actions on your other leg and had to fight the urge to touch you further. To spread you open for him just a little bit more. Just enough so he could bury his head between your thighs. He was sure you would taste better than the sweetest sugar.
You were suddenly very aware of the heat growing at your core as you watched his gentle movements. He touched you like you were a porcelain doll who would shatter if he was too rough. His calloused fingertips ghosted over your inner thigh. So very close to where you secretly wanted him to touch you. Where you thought that maybe, just maybe, he really wanted to touch you too. 
Once both your stockings had been discarded, Arthur started studying your wounds a little closer. Looking for any shards of glass that may have gotten stuck in your skin.. Bringing your feet up initially to rest on his chest, just below his shoulder, before realizing how much the image of you like that made his head spin. Settling to let your feet rest on his thighs Not that that worked to diffuse any of the sexual tension in the air that was growing thicker with each passing second. 
You could feel the strong muscles of his legs shifting under the soles of your feet as he moved to pour a decent amount of whiskey onto a clean rag. Part of you wanted to be exactly the kind of woman Linda already thought you were. How short a distance you would have to move your foot to start caressing Arthur's crotch. Wondering what he would feel like as you rubbed him. Wondering how big his cock was. The sounds he would make if you did. There was little point in denying what felt so obvious between you at that moment. 
You wanted him, and he wanted you just the same. You made a silent promise that you would treat him far better than Linda did. Your mind was thinking of all the things Linda probably refused to do that you happily would. There was no way she wasn't a prude in bed. You wondered just how many pleasures you could grant him that she wouldn't. How many pleasures he was used to being denied.
It was Arthur's voice that pulled you from your wicked thoughts.
"Right. This is gonna sting like hell." 
That was all the warning you got before he pressed the whiskey soaked rag onto the cuts. He was right. It hurt. You grabbed at your skirt, holding the fabric tightly in your fingers as you tried to breathe through the pain. Balling the fabric up in your fists and without realizing it, causing it to ride up, baring more of your thighs, and even granting Arthur a peek at the gusset of your panties. 
They weren't particularly fancy. A simple silk in a soft shade of mauve. He knew he was an absolute goner as soon as he saw them and how they were clinging to the plump lips of your cunt. He could practically feel you clench and relax your inner muscles as he moved the rag off of your now clean scrapes. He barely managed to keep his damaged mind focused long enough to place a gauze bandage on each knee. 
His resolve finally cracked completely when he had the idea to place a soft kiss over each bandage. A sweet gesture on its own, but when paired with his now dilated eyes, one that you knew meant he had more sinful desires on his mind. Your hand reflexively went to brush through his hair as his lips touched the first bandage. Gripping the longer strands when he moved to the second. 
His face began nuzzling the inside of your knee. His gruff whimpers against your skin, giving you a last chance to tell him to stop. To push him away. It only made you pull on his hair harder and spread your legs for him farther. A needy whine pulled from his throat before he bit the flesh of your inner thigh and began sucking a dark bruise there. His large hands had already moved to grab at your ass under your skirt to pull you closer to the edge of his desk.
Now that your body was well within his reach, he lifted his head from your lap and brought his lips to yours. Kissing you fiercely. Your teeth nipping at his lips and your tongues chasing one another without shame. The glowing embers of need blossoming into a full-fledged flame. 
"Arthur, are you sure about this. After everything that happened earlier. Are you sure you want this?" 
You caressed his cheek with the back of your hand. Opening your eyes to stare into his icy blue ones. 
"I'm sure, love. Even more now. It seems you and I are already cursed for something we weren't doing. Might as well get some fun out of it, and I'd gladly damn myself for you." 
He moved to kiss you again, but you pulled back again. Wanting to make sure this wasn't just a fleeting desire and that you would be canned by the next morning. A secretary was much easier to get rid of than a wife. 
"What about Linda?"
The mention of her name made his nostrils flair. Clearly still upset from her tantrum earlier. He brought his hands up to cup your face so you were looking him straight in the eye.
"Fuck Linda. You're the one I want. For a long time now. I don't want to deny it anymore. Just never thought you would want a sad old bastard like me."
You sighed and nodded. Giving him your permission to let his lips meet yours again. The soft tickle of his mustache making you smile as you kissed. Your arms slowly moving to loop around his neck and your legs moving to loop around his hips. Pulling his body into yours.
"Wanted you just as much. You may not see it, but you are incredible. Now, fuck me please, Arthur"
Arthur was all long limbs and taut muscles. A sharp contrast to your soft curves. Little did you know that was one of his favorite things about you. That you had so many curves and soft spots for him to touch, kiss, and explore. His hands were already moving up and down your sides, groping your ass and then your breasts as you kissed. 
You set to work on the first few buttons of his shirt. Reaching inside to feel his chest. Pulling your lips away from his to place a soft kiss on the cross tattoo over his heart. 
Arthur quickly followed suit. Leaving wet kisses down your neck before starting to pull at your blouse. His large, rough hands threatened to tear the fabric right off your body. It was like he couldn't possibly wait any longer to touch your bare skin.
"Careful Arthur. I still have to have clothes to walk home in, and I've already lost a good pair of stockings today." 
Your teasing tone told him you weren't upset at his overzealousness. He chuckled in your ear and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a bear hug. You could feel his hips starting to rut into you. His excitement now becoming apparent in more ways than one. 
"Sorry, lovey. I've just wanted to touch you like this for so long. It takes every ounce of control I have not to pull you into me lap every time you come in here. You're re always so fuckin' sweet and nice to me even when I feel like shit."
He pulled back and started unbuttoning your top with a much more careful touch. Leaning in to kiss your lips with each button he undid. Gazing down as your bra came into view. It clearly matched the panties you were wearing. It was the same mauve silk but with a lace edging along the tops of the cups. 
Arthur groaned as he drug the back of his fingers along the lace. Your breath catching in your chest and making your breasts bounce slightly. With Arthur distracted by the sight of your lingerie, you took over the task of undressing. Shrugging your open blouse back off of your shoulders and tossing it to the side. Letting him bring both of his hands up to play with your tits while you moved back to finish unbuttoning his shirt and removing it. 
His fingers moved to pinch at your nipples through the soft fabric as you began undoing his pants. A soft moan falling from your lips at his touches. You slipped your hand into his pants and palmed his hardening cock through his boxers. Starting to slowly stroke his length.
"Fuck, love. You keep that up I'm gonna cum in your hand."
You smiled against his lips. Your wicked side was beginning to show more as your encounter went on. You reached behind your back with one hand and unhooked your bra. Only pulling your hand from Arthur's pants to finish removing your bra so you could toss it to the side into the growing pile of discarded clothing. 
"Well, we don't want that. Better hurry up and finish undressing me then."
You hopped off the desk and brought Arthur's hands to the hook and zipper of your skirt. Bringing your lips to his throat and starting to suck and bite at his neck. Half tempted to leave your mark there for Linda to see. So she could see what she had driven the two of you to do. 
You restrained yourself, though, at least for now. Knowing that both you and Arthur would want this to be more than a one-time thing. There would be a time down the road for you to flaunt your dalliances.
Your skirt soon hit the floor, and you pushed his pants down to match. Leaving you in just your pretty mauve panties and him in his simple white boxers. Your hands exploring each other's bare skin as you kissed. His hands slipping into the back of your panties to grope your ass. Slipping them down enough for them to fall to the floor on their own. Kicking your feet to rid yourself of them completely.
He lifted you back up onto the desk now that you were totally naked. Bringing one hand around between your legs as you settled. Letting his long fingers finally touch your cunt, feeling how wet you had gotten for him already. Nuzzling into your neck, his mustache tickling you as he whispered in your ear.
"Holy fuck. You're so wet darling. You are an eager little thing ain't ya? All of this really for me?"
You mewled at his questions. Knowing that he already knew the answers. Letting your hips start to roll against his fingers, trying to urge him on. Sighing in relief when you felt two of his fingers sink into your heat. The little bit of stretch making your back arch and your nails grip into his biceps. 
Arthur pulled away to watch his fingers thrust in and out of you. Growling at the sight of your slick coating his fingers. It was something he thought he would only ever fantasize about. Occasionally stroking your clit with his thumb and making your hips jerk forward. 
A smile on his face as he watched your eyes start to roll back in your head. Pulling his fingers away when he felt you starting to clench around them. Denying you your orgasm and making you pout. Your bottom lip pushed out and looking oh so biteable.
"Arthur, please. I was so close."
He chuckled as he licked your sweet nectar from his fingers. Just one taste, and he knew he was already addicted to you. Frankly he couldn't wait until he would get a chance to eat you out, but right now he needed to fuck you.
"Uh uh love, the only time you are gonna cum tonight is on my cock." 
With that, he pushed his boxers down. Finally freeing himself and giving you your first real glimpse of his cock. Standing proud and hard, just for you. His dark pink tip wet with precum. You couldn't help but whimper at the sight of him. Your legs immediately reaching to wrap around his hips and pull him to you. 
He happily let you. Loving how much you wanted him. How impatient you were to have him inside you. You were almost more impatient than he was. Your hips were bucking as soon as you felt his long length stroke through your wet folds. 
"Don't worry, love. I'm gonna give you exactly what you want. Just want to hear you ask for it. All sweet like you are when you ask me for stuff during work. Like the good little angel you are." 
You purred at his statement. You could be his little angel if that's what he wanted, but you also wanted Arthur to see your devilish side, too. So, with one hand, you braced yourself on his desk and wrapped the other around the back of his neck. Giving him your best doe eyes and letting your hips wantonly grind against his shaft. Hitching your legs up even higher to spread yourself open more for him.
"Please Arthur, I want your cock inside me. I want you to fuck me so bad. I've wanted this for so long. I've wanted you for so long. Please fuck me. Make me yours Arthur." 
He growled and quickly positioned his fat tip against your weeping hole. Cursing at how wet you were. He had never felt Linda anywhere near as turned on as you were, and even though he knew that what you were about to do was wrong, it felt oh so right. So, without even thinking, he pulled off his wedding band and threw it somewhere in the distance. Not caring about having to find it later.
He grabbed a hold of your hips and kissed you fiercely. His short nails leaving imprints in your skin. He slowly started pushing into you. Your moans quieted by his kisses as he stretched you open. Eventually, bottoming out and leaving you feeling impossibly full. 
Arthur waited a moment, trying to calm his breathing and letting you adjust to him. He could hardly control himself when he looked down between you and saw his cock nestled in your cunt. Your pussy lips hugging him tightly. He couldn't help but start shallowly thrusting in and out of you. His hair falling in front of his face and his nostrils flaring. His animalistic side clawing beneath the surface. 
"Go on, Arthur. Fuck me hard. I know you want to." 
Now that he had your permission, he did exactly that. Pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into you. His thrust was so hard your hips lifted off the desk. He waited a few seconds to see if you would object to his hard thrusts, and when all you did was grip onto his neck tighter, he began pounding into you faster. The desk was starting to rock underneath you and scrape across the floor. His lamp falling and the ledger books dropping to the floor with a heavy thud.
Neither of you cared, though. Your moans and grunts growing louder with each passing moment. Arthur biting into your shoulder and neck as he fucked you with abandon. Surely leaving marks that you would have to deal with tomorrow. The force of his cock knocking your breath from you.
Arthur moved one hand behind your back to hang onto you as he brought the other to your clit. Starting to stroke his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves and immediately making you clench around him. His thrusts started to become sloppy and irregular. 
"I'm gonna cum inside this perfect little cunt. You want that, eh? Just felt you squeeze me tighter darlin.  I think you're gonna cum too. Cum on my cock and I'll fill you up so good. That's it, love. Cum on your boss's cock." 
His words pushed you over the edge. Crying out Arthur's name as you spasmed around him. Your legs were shaking, and your body was threatening to collapse onto the desk below you. Arthur pulled you into his chest, keeping you upright as he kept frantically fucking you. Chasing his own high. Grunting and growling in your ear. 
After another few thrusts, you felt his hips stutter and the warmth of his release started to fill you. The most beautiful moan fell from the normally intimidating gangster. It was full of vulnerability and made you hang onto him even tighter as he filled you up. His orgasm seemed never-ending, but frankly, both of you were quite content to stay in this moment forever. Just the two of you.
You held each other as you came down from your orgasms. Kissing and wiping the sweat from each other's brows. Caressing each other and letting your heart rates fall. Both of you groaning when Arthur finally pulled out of you. Taking a moment to watch his cum start to leak out of you. 
With a cheeky smirk on his face, he scooped it back up and rubbed it over your swollen sex making you gasp before bringing what was left on his fingers up to your lips. You opened your mouth and sucked his seed from his fingers. Your tongue dancing and licking up every drop. His smile growing and a soft 'good girl' quietly fell from his lips.
The two of you slowly helped each other redress. Arthur, taking an extra moment to admire the sight of you in your beautiful silk underwear before helping you with your skirt and blouse. You couldn't help but smile as you redid his bowtie for him. His fingers drawing little shapes on your lower back as you did. Brushing his hair back into place and smoothing down his mustache before standing on your toes to press a soft kiss on his lips. Neither of you quite ready to leave the imaginary world you created together. 
He let go of you and went out to your desk. Watching him gather your jacket and handbag as you slipped your shoes back on. Coming back and placing your handbag on his desk while he worked to straighten out your coat.
"Come on, darlin'. Let's get you home, eh? I'm not letting you walk home alone at this time of night with those gorgeous legs bare and on display."
You slipped your garters into your handbag. Having no use for them now that your stockings were in Arthur's trash bin. Letting him slip your coat on before taking his own long dark coat that was far too large for you and slipping it over your shoulders. You buried your nose in the collar. Inhaling the scent of Arthur's cologne.
You looked out at the mess still sitting on the floor around your desk. Sighing at the work that still needed to be done.
"What about that mess, Arthur? I still need to clean all of that up."
He took your hand in his and started leading you to the door. Not really caring if anyone saw him holding your hand. After tonight he really couldn't give a fuck who saw you together. Come the light of day he knew he would probably feel guilty and tomorrow he would probably find himself crawling around the floor of his office to find his wedding ring. It wouldn't stop him from coming back to you again and again, and he knew both of you knew it. Tonight though he just wanted to indulge in you without the guilt. 
"Fuck it. I'll make Finn and Isiah do it in the morning. You've got more important work now. Besides I'm thinking you'll be a bit tired tomorrow by the time you come in."
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cebwrites · 11 months
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Hey hey! I'm not new here but I am quite shy!!
I'm a little buzzed though so hehehehehe ╮⁠(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠╭
If it's okay, could I ask for Sanji's reaction to a male s/o wearing his shirt? Maybe it's a tad too big? XP
Sanji's just.. filled with love? Sorry I'm a little hehehehehehe
a/n: liquid courage to help the tumblr asking go down!! thank you for sending this in and enjoying my work from the shadows 💕
(i'm adding some north blue boys for space filler under the cut if you don't mind <33)
reacting to their boyfriend wearing their shirt (Sanji, Drake, Law)
masc reader, he/they law word count: 0.5k
Sanji
Like you said, anon, he's completely filled with love <3
Sanji whines and twirls for you at the drop of a hat for no particular reason on the average day anyway, but for this? Shit, he might have to actually sit down for a minute
When you roll your eyes and lightly whack his shoulder for the theatrics, Sanji takes ahold of your hands to press the gentlest of kisses against them, you note how the scruff on his upper lip tickles your skin
He'd take a moment to spin you slowly admiring you in his loose dress shirt in the blushing morning light, pulling you close for even more kisses in his lap when he simply can't take having even an inch of space away from you
He's completely and utterly smitten with you, hiding the heat radiating from his face in your shoulder before his own embarrassing thoughts can get the best of him, but would you really have it any other way?
Drake
The first time he sees it, Drake doesn't quite know how to process this information - tangled up in the sheets, a few loose strands of hair framing your face, and the comfy dino shirt he usually wore to bed on days off adorning your sleeping figure instead
He may or may not have blown a fuse from the cuteness
It's not that you're small by any means, the average man's height with decent bulk, but Drake is just, well - huge, standing at 7'7, the guy does tower over most regular folk quite a bit ('regular' people in the Grand Line need not apply)
So its natural that his clothes leave more than a little bit of room for you to swim in
It's not hard to make him a flustered mess to begin with, but with this added bonus, you tease him to no end - walking around the house in just his ratty old sleep shirt all day, cuddling in his lap while wearing it, trying on different things from his wardrobe and then asking your dino boyfriend's opinion on how you look - truly, you'll be the death of him
Law
They're unamused, at least on the surface, that you keep stretching out their hoodies
There's no doubt whenever Law gets a new sweater or shirt that it'll hang awkwardly on them within the next few months (it needs some time before it starts to smell like him, of course)
Law pulls your ear and gives you the patent 'angry kitty' stare and pretends to push you away when you want cuddles for doing this, but they can never stay too mad at you for long
Eventually, Law starts to buy clothes that are a little bigger on purpose for when the inevitable happens - of course, there are some hoodies that off limits lest you get the cold shoulder and locked out of their bedroom for the night
But perhaps Law shouldn't complain as much as they do, especially when you catch your beloved captain cutely falling asleep at his desk in one of your animal print hoodies, or see them groggily drag their feet into the kitchen in the morning wearing draws a little too loose on them
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cricketnationrise · 2 months
Note
hello! :) THIS IS SO CUTE I CAN'T WAIT FOR A POSSIBLE CRICKET EXCLUSIVE!! because i am obsessed with u fr but that's common knowledge. <3
for the ficlet fest, if you'd like:
time stamp: 2:23am
location: brownstone
character: alex/henry
song: this is me trying by taylor swift (only if you want!!!!!!!)
rating: whatever you'd like
but like you can go any direction with this I'm just always projecting my adhd/anxiety/not good enough feelings onto alex on a regular basis :')
my ao3: firenati0n | Archive of Our Own (same as tumblr user)
THANK YOU SO MUCH! SENDING LOVE XOXO
your cricket exclusive is here! i actually went full on henry pov with this one bc my brain got stuck on the trying of it all. so have some first post-canon fight make up. this is actually the longest ficlet yet, but somehow i don't think that'll be a problem 😂 💜🦗
read the rest of the ficlets here!
❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙
2:32am, brownstone
The brownstone is quiet when he returns, which is completely reasonable for just after two-thirty in the bloody morning. 
It’s also immaculate, which is decidedly less so, especially considering the state of the place when Henry stomped out a few hours ago. 
The hallway is clear of trip hazards, shoes neatly in the rack. The kitchen gleams in the range hood light; counters clear and wiped down, small appliances lined up as precisely as Buckingham guards. Peeking his head in the for-once dark office reveals two tidy desks, chairs pushed in, and both of their laptops plugged in and charging. 
The den at the base of the stairs makes Henry pause. The stacks of books have been put away. The coasters on the coffee table have been relieved of their burdens of half-drunk tea cups and abandoned coffee mugs. In the dim light from the street lamps through the window, Henry can even see vacuum lines in the carpet. A second glance has Henry taking cautious steps inside.
There is one thing out of place after all. 
On the couch, propped on a few of the numerous throw pillows Pez insisted upon, and tucked into the quilt Ellen sent them, is Alex. Like an anchor to the ocean floor, Henry is drawn into the room, and to Alex’s side. 
He kneels between the coffee table and the couch near Alex’s head and just looks for a long moment. Alex clearly hasn’t been sleeping well. The couch is too short, even for Alex’s shorter frame, so his legs are tucked uncomfortably. His curls are more of a wild mess than normal, like he’s been tugging at them. Alex is gripping the quilt as tightly as he normally clutches Henry, and there’s deep furrows on his forehead. 
Henry should let him sleep, probably—neither of them have been sleeping all that well. Increased paparazzi presence as Alex’s first semester of law school starts and Henry takes a more active role in the shelter has been stressful. But Henry can’t help but reach out and try to smooth those lines on his forehead. Something churning and tense settles inside him when his gentle touch has Alex’s eyes blinking open, a small smile on his face when he recognizes Henry.. 
“You came back.”
“Of course I did, love.”
Alex exhales messily, blinking back tears now. “I wasn’t sure— After earlier—”
Henry shushes him with a hand on his cheek. “I will always come back to you. Promised I was done being an obtuse fuckin’ asshole, didn’t I?”
“You still left, though,” Alex says.
It’s Henry’s turn to fight back tears. “I could hear myself sounding more and more like Philip at his worst. It scared me. I didn’t want to subject you to that, to even inadvertently use my knowledge of you as a weapon. So I left before words I didn’t actually mean could find their mark.” He sways forward, resting his forehead on Alex’s, needing to be closer. “You deserve more than sharply aimed words, especially when you haven’t done a thing wrong.” 
“Hen…”
“I’m sorry Alex. I shouldn’t have— I knew it would be different once the paparazzi got wind of our plans, but I wasn’t prepared for how much more invasive they would feel. I’m having a hard time adjusting to life beyond Kensington’s thick walls and I started to take it out on you.”
Alex’s hand pulls on his shoulder. “C’mere.”
Henry climbs onto the couch and sprawls undignified on top of Alex, tucking his head into the crook of his neck. Alex’s hands, as ever, hold him steady, rubbing large circles across his back.
“There were two people in our fight, Henry. You aren’t the only one struggling. Or taking it out on the person he loves.” He presses a kiss to Henry’s temple. “I could hear echoes of my parents, but couldn’t figure out how to stop the word vomit. And that scared me—I never want you and I to be like them.”
Henry pulls his head back to meet his gaze fiercely. “Never.”
Alex smiles at his vehement tone, but it's got a rueful edge to it. “We’re gonna have to figure out how to talk about this stuff before it blows up in our faces again.” 
“Not tonight, though?”
“Nah, not tonight.” 
They’re quiet for a long moment, curled around each other on the couch, when a niggling thought finds its way past Henry’s lips. 
“Alex?”
“Hmm?”
“Why were you on the couch? Did you— Did you not want to be in our room?”
Alex holds him tighter. “I— You left and— So I was cleaning, and I did this room last, and when I was done there was no way stairs were happening, so I just collapsed here. I didn’t  actually think I'd fall asleep, I don't usually when you aren’t right next to me.”
“So it wasn’t because you wanted space from me?”
“Fucking hell, baby. No, I never want space. I want the opposite of space from you. If I could figure out a way to crawl into your rib cage every night I would.”
“Oh.” The last bit of tension leaves Henry’s body at that and he relaxes fully on top of Alex. 
“Yeah, oh.” Alex chuckles. “But, as nice as you feel on top of me, it’s late and this couch ain’t big enough for the two of us.” 
“You fit on it better than I do,” Henry can’t help but tease.
“First of all, rude. Second of all, I also have to pee so get up before I shove you off.” 
Reluctantly, Henry stands and reaches down to help Alex up after him. Henry folds the quilt and hangs it over the back of the couch, smoothing the last wrinkles with his hand. When he straightens up, Alex is only halfway up the stairwell. 
“Meet you in bed?” Alex whispers.
Henry climbs up to meet him. “Always, love.”
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dykelawlight · 7 months
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hyperspecific: what do you think fem!L, Light, & Mikami have on / in their desks?
GOOD ONE!!!! I'll do Mikami first because I've been thinking about that bitch of late
Mikami
Office landline. If we're doing this during the canon time period of the show, big old desktop computer + her work laptop on a little stand so she can be an early adopter of the use of dual monitors, which used to be fucking crazy to even think about. Work nameplate. I think she's a huge neat freak at work and basically only keeps stuff on her desk as she's actively using it, so she might end the day with a huge spread of case file stuff and code reference books and legal pad notes on her desk and will tidy every bit of it up and put it in its proper place before she leaves (probably at about 3AM if Japanese govt attorneys keep comparable schedules to Japanese firm attys). She's got a pull-out filing drawer that is organized to the letter with paper case files. Her other main drawers are just full of typical work stuff; extra legal pads, extra pens, hand sanitizer, paper clips, whatever. All pretty boring and standard-issue. She might have some pens in a little cup on her desk and she might have like a plain box of tissues for clients. She has an ergonomic wrist rest for her keyboard and a plain black mousepad. She leaves home stuff at home. I don't think she has so much as a houseplant in there. She wants to be taken seriously in an impersonal way and doesn't have time for shit like (glancing at my own desk) a tape dispenser shaped like a hedgehog.
She obviously has a desk at home, too, but it's similarly boring, with very few extra personal touches. She might have like a candle over there, a desk lamp, stuff like that, and she might stack personal reading (whenever she has time) over to the side.
L
L's desk is a fucking wreck. L is meticulously clean but by no means organized. L spreads case docs all over the place. Some of them fall on the floor. Whatever. She'll retrieve them as necessary.
She's obviously comfortable curling up into her preferred pose in a regular chair, but I think in terms of a regularly used personal desk she has a kneeling chair that she misuses by putting her feet on the pads instead of her knees, thereby completely negating any ergonomic value it might provide. (I am doing this as we speak.) I also think she keeps a space heater under her desk because she has terrible circulation in her feet.
She has a desk lamp but it's pretty standard-issue. She has a couple small things she fidgets with while she's really deep in thought, like a rubber band ball. Her drawers are also completely disorganized and chiefly used to ferret away snacks in the event that she forgets to eat for 8 hours or whatever. She might have some little desk-sized decorations that she thinks are amusing; probably like a Newton's cradle she can mess around with and a mini stuffed animal that she's become attached to for no particular reason. She's like Mikami if Mikami was a mess and also could ever loosen up. I think she has a wide array of colored gel pens also. She DEFINITELY has one of those 00s mouses with like bright blue fake water and plastic fish in it.
Light
Light's desk as an adult is carefully calculated to look both utilitarian and "normal." She has a plant. She has a nice little lamp she picked out. She has a box of tissues with a fun but unobtrusive pattern on it. She has a candle. She has a framed picture of her family. If she and L are together then she probably has a framed picture of them looking very Normal also, maybe on vacation or some shit. She has a plug-in mug warmer for her coffee. Etc. Desktop computer too but probably a little sleeker than Mikami's because she enters the workforce later.
Her desk is generally very clean. She keeps a microfiber cloth and some wet wipes in a drawer. She is still prone to the use of false-bottomed drawers to hide things she doesn't want other people to find, even if they're harmless and not magical murder weapons. She also keeps very organized files in a filing drawer for whatever her job might be in this scenario (probably a cop). Unlike L, she is staunchly opposed to the concept of eating at one's desk and has zero snacks in her vicinity at any time. That's why you pack a fucking lunchbox (very boring bamboo bento with her name on it).
She keeps a desk at home that's basically exactly the same because she doesn't like to mess with perfection. Unlike her last home desk, this one is not rigged as a bomb.
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morefandomscenarios · 2 years
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A/N: Self indulgent hc oncoming..... Then again, when are my original works ever not self-indulgent lol
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It's a not-so-normal evening tonight - usually, by this time you would've been relaxing in bed, but tonight you had to attend a call with your coworkers outside your office hours because timezone is a bitch.
Fortunately, you're not supposed to be talking, so you're just watching the screen of your laptop in silence. Unfortunately, your coworker has been rambling off for a whole twenty minutes.
You're trying to focus, and a glance at the other participants in the call shows that they're also struggling. One of them has opted to settle comfortably on her sofa, and you're so distracted by the cat on her lap, that you don't hear your lover walking towards you, fresh out from the shower.
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Doesn't notice and doesn't give a fuck that you're in the meeting. They'll pull you into a deep kiss, not caring about your hushed protest and your frantic arms flailing to cover the camera - hell, they might even unknowingly (and uncaringly) flash your traumatized coworkers. Thank god your mic is muted because the things coming out from their mouth are literal filth that does not belong in your team's video meeting.
Zoro, Nami, Kid, Doflamingo, Crocodile
Notices you have the camera turned on but cheekily places a kiss on you anyway. They're not afraid of showing how much they love you. Hell, your coworkers should know that you're so loved. Some of them might even give a cheeky side-eye towards the gawking audience before moving away from the frame.
Luffy, Shanks, Rayleigh, Roger, Sabo, Yamato
Immediately realizes that you're not to be disturbed, so they keep their distance. But nothing is stopping them from blowing a kiss your way or mouthing off a few words that'll leave you a blushing mess, so that's what they exactly did.
Sanji, Robin, Brook, Kaido
They notice that you're working and that's fine. Inwardly they hope that it won't become a regular thing (work and life balance is important after all). They don't want to seem needy, so they opt for quietly pointing to themselves and your shared bedroom's door, perhaps mouthing off a soundless "Come to bed soon" or "I'll be waiting, love you"
Usopp, Marco, Killer, X Drake, Mihawk, Rocinante, Smoker, Coby, Law, Kaku
They quickly notice your boredom and with one sneaky glance at the screen they understand the situation. Chuckling, they stay off camera and give you something to make you less bored. Making funny faces at you, imitating the coworker who started your suffering.... perhaps some of them dares to offer you a strip tease?
Franky, Ace, Thatch, Bartolomeo
The cards already foretold this future so he gives you a knowing look, before silently sliding a cup of warm tea onto your desk along with a handwritten note saying "The bumbling idiot will stop in five minutes. The meeting will last seven minutes past the schedule. I will be awake when you enter the bedroom. I'll see you soon, my love."
Hawkins
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I got an ipad! Does this mean I need to start putting out put together academia vibes?
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eremiie · 3 years
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hi PLEASE i neee stoner eren amd stoner reader😩
high off of you
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❥ 8k words | nsfw | eren x reader
❥ you’re dragged to a smoke session by your roommate, and you actually enjoy yourself— maybe a little more than you should have; and eren jaeger is to blame.
❥ content: choking, lowkey breeding kink ish, praise kink, slight orgasm denial, overstimulation, drugs (weed)
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content.
content is how you were feeling.
you had just gotten done with your shower, your covers were finally draped over your almost bare legs, your laptop was sat in your lap and you had put your hair up to get it out of the way. you were relaxed, you were calm, and you had decided you were gonna finish off your night with an episode of your favorite show, no matter how many times you had saw it.
"c'mon, we're going to get high."
your peaceful vibe was interrupted, and in the most abrupt manner your roommate could muster; he swung the door open not even bothering to knock, leaned against the doorframe and let his eyes survey your slightly mess room before landing on you and giving you the most goofy grin.
"connie, what the fuck?" you frowned and went to pause your show only to realize you hadn't even started it. with a sigh you looked back up at connie with clear irritation written across your face.
"what? don't you want to get high?"
"i just got out of the shower, i'm in bed now," you moved your laptop and threw the covers off of your legs and pointed to your shorts. "i have pajamas on and i was about to watch my show, no i don't want to get high right now." wasn't that the obvious? you couldn't lie, the offer was tempting since you weren't the one paying, and it gave you the opportunity to see your friends again, but the getting ready process had made you shove the offer down.
as if on cue connie seemed to read your mind. "you don't have to get cute or anything. it's literally just our regular smoke circle. just throw on a jacket and let's go."
you groaned and leaned your head back letting your arm drape over your eyes. "didn't we just come from sasha's house earlier this week? who the hell is supplying y'all this fast?" you tried to come up with an excuse to stay home, but connie was clearly one step ahead of you.
"it's not sasha's house it's eren's." the stupid sly grin on his face appeared and he leaned further into your room already knowing he had you trapped. he knew, much like the rest of the friend group about the undying tension between you and eren, but nobody could pinpoint exactly what it was. it wasn't that the two of you necessarily liked each other but you were... friendlier than friendly best friends. eren and you would flirt with each other more often than not and were very hands on. not to mention how excited you'd get when you got to see him, and vice versa.
connie didn't even give you the chance to respond to that comment, your answer was evident just by the way your attention spiked at the mention of eren's name, and the way your body stiffened in the slightest. he shut the door to wait for you and couldn't help but laugh at your feeble attempt of getting out of a session with your circle.
you lost, and you were slightly upset. any other words in your defense were stuck down your throat, and connie was already long down the hall. the only thing you were able to mention was a loud, "and knock next time, dumbass!" before you did as he said, grabbing your jacket and slipping out the door with connie.
that's how you handed up where you were now, at eren's shared apartment with mikasa and armin, although mikasa's car was missing from the parking lot.
"i love the outfit. it's giving me very much... hobo." connie looked you up and down stifling a laugh while the two of you waited at the door after the first ring.
you followed his eyes looking yourself up and down as well. you did look a little silly, black crew socks with crocs over top. you didn't even take it upon yourself to zip up your jacket all the way, the black fabric draping off your shoulder on one side revealing your shoulder only adorned by a single white strap to your cropped tank top. of course the jacket was a little big, covering your sleep shorts slightly. you weren't even sure if the jacket was yours.
"shut the fuck up." you kicked connie with your croc and he hissed, grabbing his shin before being a fool and hopping towards the door some more, spamming the doorbell.
"help! i'm getting abused!" and in that moment you wondered how you managed to share an apartment with the clown.
connie's ringing only stopped when the door flew open, sasha's figure standing there with a small smile. "hey!" her tone was cheery and loud as she grabbed connie's hand pulling him into a dramatic hug before reaching a hand out to you and pulling you into one too. "i missed you guys!"
"sasha we saw you earlier this week." you forced yourself out of her grip with an apologetic smile just in case your gesture came off as rude. connie nodded in agreement and stepped aside already heading towards eren's room. i mean seriously, wouldn't it have made more sense for you not to come if he was that eager to smoke? they could've had more rounds!
"that doesn't mean i couldn't miss you." her hand embraced yours once more and she slammed the door shut, locking it and leading you to the door opened ajar on the other end of the hallway, of course eren's as he always had those red led lights bleeding from underneath the doorway. "connie told me you didn't want to come also, so this is a surprise."
you rolled your eyes. "so he knew i didn't want to come and still asked?"
"well it was worth a shot; and look where it landed you, you're about to be faded." and she wasn't wrong. she finally let go of your hand and opened the door, the bright LEDS hitting you straight on making you squint for a second before your eyes surveyed the room. jean was already chatting with connie on the futon while eren was sat on his bed with a tray in his lap, rolling the blunt.
what you didn't see was the glance he gave you when you first started scanning the room, immediately trying to look focused on rolling the blunt while attempting to hide his boyish grin. you likewise, you bit the inside of your cheeks to stop from smiling at the sight of the pretty boy; his brown locks pulled back into the sloppiest ponytail, and the hairs in the back of his head skimming the black top he wore.
"so she actually came?" jean voiced looking over to you and making his way over to you from his position on the futon to embrace you in a side hug.
"jean boy," you used his nickname to mock him before returning his hug causing him to grimace at you and pull his arm back. you started to laugh and rolled your eyes at his dramatic actions once more. "yes, yes i did come."
"doesn't she look stupid?" connie looked up from his phone at you and jean giggling under his breath. jean took in your appearance and tried not to laugh, a small smirk on his face that was wiped off when you slapped his chest then flipped connie off.
"shut your bald ass up, connie." you retorted.
"i'm growing hair, i keep telling you that!" and the whole room burst into laughter, sasha doubling over because there still wasn't a trace of growth on his head.
"connie, you have no room to talk you are actually stupid." sasha added before going over to sit with the boy after grabbing a bag of chips from the desk next to the open door.
you shut the door behind you and continued to stand awkwardly until eren spoke, "you're laughing but as soon as she takes that jacket off you're gonna try to jump on her, kirchstein." he said with a raise of his eyebrow before letting his eyes wander over your frame.
now you were really trying to hide your smile, and you cursed yourself when one graced your face anyways. "eren," you dragged out his name walking over to him on his bed before plopping yourself down and resting your head on his shoulder. "get me away from these idiots." you faked a sigh before eren chuckled and gave you a side hug much like jean’s before continuing to roll his blunt.
"damn jaeger, you were so quiet i forgot you were here." connie said, not looking up from his phone that sasha peered over as well.
"and stop making slick jokes and hurry up with the blunt." jean huffed scooting off the futon and resting his head on his palm. "i'm tryna smoke."
you watched eren look down at jean with a negative expression before continuing to roll, and you watched intently loving the way he looked while he did it. the way he let his tongue slide over the gutted blunt was enticing  and you looked from your position on his shoulder.
he let his eyes drift over to you without moving his head and then he placed the blunt on the tray grabbing the grinder and holding it out in front of you. "you wanna grind it for me?" he asked with a small smile and it caught you off guard. you took a minute to process what he said before you grabbed the grinder and let it come apart in two.
"i mean, i guess." he slid the tray over to your lap and did that chuckle again.
"do you even know how? i bet you've always had someone roll for you, huh?"
you couldn't help but break out into another smile, this one out of slight embarrassment before you bumped his shoulder playfully and setting down the grinder on the tray. "bye... i've only rolled once."
"she doesn't know how, and plus just earlier she asked me who our supplier was. even sasha knows that!" connie looked over and you met his eyes with a glare, a deadpanned expression crossing your face and the group broke into laughter again besides you.
"connie i'm gonna fuck you up." you muttered. your mood shifted once more though when eren began placing the weed into the grinder and closed the lid handing it to you.
"work some magic, babe." you were really trying not to show how excited you were, butterflies flapping their wings and flapping them hard in your stomach, especially at the nickname. you began twisting the small container and eren's calloused hands stopped yours from grinding too much. "that's good, that's good." he took it from your hands then pulled the tray over. "i got it from here."
"yeah cause she's gonna fuck it up." jean laughed and connie joined in his eccentric laugh filling the air as well causing you to groan.
"can y'all shut up? damn. you can't roll either jean."
ooohh's from connie and sasha bounced around the room and jean looked up at you amusement dancing in his eyes. "better than you."
"at least i look good while doing it." you sassed playfully while moving invisible hair behind you ear. you could've sworn eren nodded his head from next to you, and those dumb butterflies in your stomach began moving again.
"got that right." jean snapped back just as quick a flirtatious tone to his voice that caught you off guard and you raised an eyebrow at the sudden demeanor. eren looked up for a split second before glancing at you again, his eyebrows furrowed in... confusion maybe?
"weren't you just making fun of me earlier?"
"chill, we were just playing around, girl." jean responded with a shit eating grin before forming a heart with his hand and pouting at you.
"you better stop for eren gets on your ass, you know that's his girl." connie scrunched up his nose then looks towards you and eren for a reaction that he succeeded in getting. both you and eren looking up at him; eren's eyes holding more of a curious stare and yours more threatening. eren continued sealing the blunt soon after seemingly unfazed by connie's comment.
sasha gasped and widened her eyes at you. "stop! you know they don't date." she winked at you and wiggled her eyebrows and you pretended not to see her.
"yeah, they don't even date." jean added on, wondering how the conversation flipped from you to your relationship with eren so fast. it was annoying to him in the least, the group constantly commented on how you and eren should just get together and were clearly not just best friends, but the two of you seemed to haven't taken action yet.
"might as well." connie shrugged his shoulder. "anyways, jaeger finished rolling, let's get high." connie sat up, sasha lifting her head off of his arm as he did so and clasped her hands clearly ready to hit the blunt much like everyone else.
"you want the first hit?" eren rolled the blunt between his fingertips while letting the flame singe the end looking at you with those jaded green eyes, flecks of blue dashing across them in a way that made your heart melt.
"she gets the first hit too?" connie exclaimed staring at you and eren with a bored look on his face.
"who rolled the blunt?" eren asked raising an eyebrow at connie before letting his tongue run over his bottom lip and lifting the blunt from the lighter to watch the smoke float into the air, and ugh did he look good. when connie didn't answer he answered for him, "i rolled it, i choose who goes first."
"plus shes low key a newbie, this is what? her third session with us?" sasha chimed in grabbing the pillow that connie was laying on previous and rolling onto her stomach on the floor in front of the futon.
you pursed your lips before grabbing the blunt from eren, not even noticing that his arm was placed behind you until he rubbed your side in slight encouragement, his warm smile aimed at you. you put the brown wrap to your lips and inhaled the smoke, the gas irritating your airway causing you to let out a cough you tried to hold back.
eren began to laugh at you as you broke out into a fit of coughs, your throat attempting to clear up for you, and the worse the coughs got the more of your friends started to laugh, the only thing you could do was stick your middle finger up while sasha crawled to the same desk near the door to grab you her water bottle.
"i'm crying!" sasha laughed as she rolled the bottle over to the foot of eren's bed. eren's laughs died down too after he hit the blunt and then bending down to pick it up for you, untwisting the cap and passing the drug towards connie.
"woah, chill." he said before blowing the smoke from his mouth in your face causing you to suppress more coughs and fan it away. he tilted the water bottle to your lips and you let it swim down your throat, relishing in the sweet gesture from the boy next to you.
"eren," you mumbled his name taking the water bottle from his hand. you didn't get time to finish your sentence before his door opened revealing armin standing there in his pajama pants and sweatshirt.
all gazes turned towards him as he scanned eren's room growing accustomed to the new faces and scenery. "hi." he mumbled rubbing his eyes. "when did you guys get here?"
"did you just wake up?" eren asked slight concern lacing his face.
"yeah... i heard laughing. don't forget we share a wall." armin gestured towards the wall in which eren's futon laid against.
"i didn't even know you were here. i didn't see mikasa's car so i thought both of y'all just dipped." connie passed the blunt to sasha and fanned the air of the smoke letting the rest disperse after speaking.
"mikasa is at the library. she can't stand the smell of smoke and how loud you all are. i don't blame her." armin chuckled before walking over towards sasha who hit the blunt and gave it to armin's outstretched hand.
"armin you smoke?" you couldn't help but ask, the last two smoke sessions you went to with connie, armin wasn't there. as a matter of fact you never saw much of him because he excelled above you by some and the two of you didn't share any classes, yet you definitely knew him through eren.
"everybody hear smokes except for you." sasha said hoping her words would coerce you to come to join the smoke circle more indefinitely, not just pass by a few times here and there.
armin let the smoke inhale his lungs then removed the blunt from his soft lips. "i smoke with eren sometimes. not usually with all of you guys but... sometimes?" his response came more like a question than an answer as he bent down to give the blunt to jean.
"let armin hit it a couple times." eren used his head to motion the blunt in jean's hand to armin and armin nodded in agreement.
"yeah, i'm about to go back to my room anyways." armin took the blunt back holding it between his lips while leaning against the doorframe.
"why aren't you staying?" sasha pondered sitting up and cradling her pillow to her chest. armin took one last hit then walked over passing it to you which you accepted with a kind nod.
"i should be studying with mikasa but i fell asleep. i have a test tomorrow, eren does too."
"so eren's here getting high and he has a test tomorrow?" you give eren a playful disappointed glance that lasted a little longer than it should've. he met your eyes and then let his drop down to your lips before breaking out into a smile and leaning forward, burying his head into your neck. his chain dangled almost touching your lap and you felt the strands of his hair brush against your chin causing you to twitch at the tickling feel while inhaling the smoke from the blunt. when your hand dropped down to your lap he replaced your hand with his and put the wrap in his mouth while nuzzling into you.
"mikasa made me study with her for like a week straight, i'll be fine." he whined. you let a sigh leave you and found yourself stroking the hair on eren's nape while fiddling with the clasp of his gold chain adorning his neck. the smell of his cologne was mixing in with the weed, but yet that woody pine still overpowered the plant and you couldn't help but rest your head on top of his in efforts to get closer to the source of the fragrance.
"i still don't understand why the two of you haven't gotten together." armin announced eyes flickering back and forth between you and his roommate.
sasha flailed her arms out and her expression was relieved, although her eyes went wide and her eyebrows went up, "that's what i been trying to say! they already act like they date." armin nodded his head agreeing with her.
"we don't like each other, we're just friends i don't know why you all say that." you said a little too quickly, eren pulling away from your neck finally and giving you a once-over. you missed the warmth he brought but then turned your head back towards armin.
"yeah, yeah." he giggled rolling his eyes. "okay well goodnight." eren stood up and passed the blunt to armin who took one last hit then handed it back to sasha, then the rest of the room murmured a goodnight to the blonde relaxing in silence for a minute after his leave.
eren took it upon himself to scoot back on his bed until his back was hitting the wall once he sat back down, using his hand to beckon you to follow him. "c'mere." and you obliged until you were next to him, shoulders touching.
jean looked over to connie and sasha, connie still scrolling through his phone aimlessly giggling at his home screen for whatever reason and sasha looking up at the ceiling on her back now, bag of chips on top of her stomach as she got lost in her thoughts.
"remember when we used to like each other?" jean took it upon himself to abruptly reminisce on the past in the presence of his friends. he took a hit of the blunt thats length was beginning to falter, it on the verge of becoming a roach. he leaned over and passed it on to you, eyes trained on yours, completely ignoring eren's gaze
you furrowed yourself eyebrows trying to recall the time once you figured jean was talking to you, his stare telling, which you actually could. "...oh yeah, last year. i guess i did."
eren pulled one of your legs overtop of his and let his hand settle onto your thigh.
sasha's head perked up at the sudden conversation. "oh my gosh... you did like jean for a little bit. you used to gush over him-"
"sasha! i know, i know, but that was last year."
"i wonder why we didn't get together if we both liked each other, hm." jean looked upwards and tapped his chin in almost a mocking manner. "we used to hang out a lot actually now that i think about it, me, you, sasha and connie."
connie let out another burst of laughter and let his phone to drop to his chest. "yeah, remember that one time we got kicked out of the library because sasha got caught eating like four times and she wouldn't stop after that lady told her to?"
you chortled and sasha's mouth dropped open. "i don't even remember that, i thought you got kicked out because you wouldn't stop fucking laughing and that same lady told you to shut up like seven times!" and more laughter erupted from the ones who were there that day.
you passed the blunt to eren for the umpteenth time watching him take a quick drag then beckon to sasha to grab it as he didn't want to get up. "you both got kicked out, those were two different days." you shook your head at your friends antics and looked up at eren. "they're so dumb."
eren returned your stare and only then did you notice the way his eyes were half lidded, you were sure red was rimming them even though you couldn't really tell because of the red emitting from the lights in the room. he squinted at you and scrunched up his nose. "you look high." he ignored your last sentence wanting to stray away from the conversation he was barely apart of.
"i am high, stupid."
a small 'hmph' came from the back of his throat and it happened again, his eyes dropping to your lips causing him to lick his before he brought those same eyes back up to yours. you could've kept getting lost in them if you didn't jolt at the sound of jean clearing his throat and holding the blunt out to you.
you leaned over to grab it once more. "careful, it's a roach. don't burn yourself." he warned you, so you pinched it between your pointer finger and thumb and started to put it up to your lips but eren grabbed your wrist.
"wanna try something?" he asked you, plucking the faltering blunt from your hands and using the lighter beside him to fire it up a bit more. "wanna shotgun it?"
you had to trace back where you hear those words again... like a shotgun when you get to sit in the passengers seat? no, that wasn't it... you couldn't recall, but by the way sasha widened her eyes for the several time that night, the way connie's mouth dropped into an 'O', and the way jean's features were exasperated, him looking down to the bright light of his screen, you could only wonder eren's intentions.
he didn't even wait for a response from you, pulling through with his actions anyways. "inhale slowly, okay?" he inhaled as much smoke from the blunt storing it in his cheeks, the skin expanding from the inside and then leaned over his face mere inches from yours. he grabbed your chin with his fingers and you opened your mouth slightly watching as he opened his and let the smoke pour out of his tinted lips. you followed his instructions; inhaling very slowly hoping the moment could last a little longer, both of you staring at the transition of the smoke from one mouth to the other.
eren glanced to the side for a second to see if the others were watching, mainly searching for one pair of eyes. you saw his upper lip curl upwards slightly and you inched forward a little more subconsciously. eren watched the smoke grow thinner and felt the way your hands grabbed at his shirt tightly. he watched your eyes flutter and felt your noses brush together.
eren watched both of you lean in a little more until your lips brushed and came together, and felt the fireworks go off in both of your bodies, electric like sparks getting sent through his.
he ignored the gasps and groans of your friends and instead focused on the gasp that left your lips when they first connected with his, and the groan you elicited from him, lips meeting so fervently. he couldn't admit it until today but he wanted your lips on his so bad, your body on his so bad. he was so infatuated with you and the two of you being around each other majority of the time didn't help. he could only reminisce in the little touches and flirtatious gestures you passed back and forth on a regular day and use that to fuel his thoughts at night.
"eren," you mumbled against his lips your voice coming out like a whimper that went straight to his dick, causing him to wrap his arms around your body and pull you into his lap letting your legs swing over either side of him. eren didn't forget about the guests in the room, and as much as wanted to put on a little show in spite of jean, he pointed towards the door snapping his fingers twice.
"five dollars that they fuck?" sasha nudged connie's shoulder as they stood up and walked towards the door while she rolled up her chip bag bringing it with her. jean's figure was already halfway out the door, slamming it hard and making his way to the living room with the other two following.
"hell no, you're gonna owe me five dollars instead. i'm betting that they fuck."
"no, cause you know they're going to that's why i said the bet first, peanut head." sasha stuck her tongue out at connie and he shoved her out the door closing it softer than jean.
he kisses you even harder just basking in the feeling of your smooth lips against his slightly chapped ones, lips working in synchronization like they were made for each other and he felt so needy. his hands roamed your hips and waist, going underneath the jacket now hanging off your shoulders and feeling the bare skin of your stomach. your skin was so hot underneath his hand, just like the air surrounding the two of you.
you ground down into his lap and he hissed stilling your hips at the feeling, his mouth dropping into a circular shape, his eyebrows pointing up until a sigh left his lips once yours disconnected from his. you studied his face; his eyebrows scrunched up in lust and his lips parted slightly already missing the feeling of your lips. his nails dug into your hips as if you would run for whatever reason.
"_____... fuck." his tone was low and light and he leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to your cheek, his skin warm on yours. "you're so pretty,"
your face grew hotter than it already was and you leaned your forehead against his while your arms draped around his neck. "thank you,"
"i want you."
you closed your eyes and relished in his grip that became impossibly tight on your hips. "i want you too-"
"i wanna fuck you... i wanna feel you." eren's eyes fluttered shut as well, his forehead moving from yours to the crevice of your neck, planting his lips and nibbling on the thin skin. your breath hitched and your hold on his neck tightened. "i wanna have you."
"i'm right here, eren."
he held back a moan at how gentle and soft your voice was when you said those words, but you caught on and wanted to actually get one out of him. you wanted to pleasure him, you wanted him to shudder because of you, and you wanted your name to leave his lips like a song; but he wanted the same from you.
he was high, and high, and high off of you.
"lay down."
eren obliged with a smug smile, turning himself to the side while steadying you on his lap until his head hit the pillow, his flyaways bouncing to the sides of his face. "c'mere." just like earlier you listened to his words and leaned down so he could press his full lips against yours. his hands cradled either side of your face as you rutted your hips against him and swallowed his groans. his tongue swiped against your bottom lip and his teeth pulled at it as well until you gave him entrance to slip his tongue inside your mouth. you moaned at the feeling of your tongues colliding and dancing around each other even though both of your mouths were somewhat dry from the earlier smoke session, it still felt all good.
you felt fuzzy and your body felt like it was melting into his. when you pulled back for air eren gave you that same smile he gave you earlier, and you moved your kisses down his neck. once you reached the crevice between his shoulder and neck you moved his chain aside and licked at the spot, the feeling of your warm tongue against the shy skin causing eren to hold you a little tighter. you nibbled at the pretty skin and wondered if the mark you proceeded to leave would even be visible under the gleaming red lights.
"i don't know why you're trying to give me a hickey, they already know we're fucking." eren taunted letting his hands travel up your spine until they reached your neck, smoothing his fingers over it. you bit down on the mark as a way to punish eren for his comment then kissed it, finally pulling back.
"shut up."
eren let out a low laugh, and his low eyes raked over your figure with his lip trapped between his teeth. "when did you get my jacket?" he raised and eyebrow and began to remove the fabric that was resting at your elbows after unzipping it the rest of the way to reveal your top.
oh, so it was his jacket. you let out a laugh at your idiocy; you knew it was a couple sizes too big. "you look cute in it, but i want to see you now." he threw the fabric off of his bed and let his warm hands travel up until they cupped your breasts, your back arching in the least. his thumbs ran over your nipples, the feeling making you clench on top of eren. "like this," he pulled them hem of the white top up until you lifted your arms, now only left in your shorts and socks. he didn't even question the fact that you weren't wearing a bra. "shit..." he pushed you down until he could latch onto on of your breasts his tongue swirling around your nipple and you let the tingling feeling go down your spine until he popped off. eren begins to remove his shirt swiftly throwing it somewhere near his jacket.
you make work of your position on top of eren, scooting down on his legs and pecking his chest, abs, then v-line until your head was leveled with his dick. he stared down at you with a look of sultry while your hands worked to pull down his sweatpants. his hips lifted to help you out and you palmed at him with your hand watching him throw his head back when such a simple gesture relieved some of the tension he was feeling.
your mouth connected with his dick through the fabric, feeling for his tip that rested on his thigh and smirking against it when he hissed, hand flying to your ponytail that you threw up earlier that evening. "fuck, don't tease me like that baby."
"i wanna take my time with you." a pout formed on your face and your hands made their way to his waistband, the elastic material detailed with 'calvin klein' circling his hips.
eren's hands grabbed your jaw forcing you to look up at him before you could pull down his boxers. "and i want to fuck you... make you feel good."
your stomach twisted and even though you were just trying to do the same you couldn't help but rush pulling down the brunette's briefs until his cock slapped against his lower abdomen, your pussy squeezing around nothing at the view. his tip red and leaking and you knew that it'd be heavy on your tongue.
"eren..." he watched the way you eyed his aching dick, and he took it in his hands rubbing himself up and down with his hand while basking in your expression.
"hm?" you didn't even know what you wanted to say, you were just mesmerized and wasted no time prying his hands away to replace them with your own. your nimble fingertips ran over his tip to gather his precum and slide it over his length and he twitched, no, his dick twitched, and his fists clenched in anticipation for your hot mouth on him.
he decided to be courageous, to look down and try to watch you without spilling over himself too fast, i mean could you blame him if he did? your hands, the feeling of you over him, the way you would feel around him... he'd had wanted this forever and now it was in front of him.
in a way, he wanted to ruin you, not let this moment go in fear it wouldn't happen again.
so you finally attached your lips to his throbbing member, and he sucked in a breath hand trying to choose between flying to your head or to keep his hands to his self for now, but he chose the former his fist keeping a grip on your locks while you began to bob your head up and down. small sounds of pleasure left him and his eyes closed again, him trying to focus on not fucking your pretty throat so early in. he just wanted you and him to be one in every sense for as long as possible.
a mantra of 'yes,' and 'fuck,' left eren's mouth while your worked around him slicking him up and drawing lines up and down his cock with your tongue watching his reactions for a particular sensitive spot he might have; and you found it.
you went back up to his tip kissing it gently before letting the heat of your tongue slide down a vein on the side of his dick. "_____," eren moaned lifting his hips although he wasn't engulfed in your mouth. "i need it, shit, i need your mouth."
you giggled and placed his heavy dick back where he liked it for now. you felt it brush against your throat and you wondered if you could go any farther, sucking fervently and coming back up to spit on his head, adding more slick to him. when you went back down eren couldn't help it, he had felt when his tip touched your throat earlier and he most definitely wanted to feel that again.
his grip on your hair tightened when your swollen lips were wrapped around him again. he pushed your head down a little bit causing your hands to put more pressure on his thighs. eren opened his eyes to stare at you again, your mouth stretched out so lewdly over his cock, saliva starting to slide down his length from your mouth and your eyes shut as you tried to focusing on breathing. this only encouraged him further.
"i know you can take more, c'mon, go a little further." he said in a tone near a whisper while he lift his hips up more so that he could feel that ridge of your throat and hear another gag.
you pushed yourself, letting him take more control and then he felt it again; "mhm, right there baby, right there." he moaned when you whimpered, groaned and gagged, but this only pushed his animalistic fervor and he tried to push you down more but you lifted your head to catch your breath. "fuck, that feels amazing, angel."
you let the praise run over your body and went back down on him seeing how far you could go without his extra nudge then focused some more attention on his tip.
eren could feel the curdle in his lower abdomen but he tried his best to ignore it, letting your work him more. he let you swirl your tongue around him and pepper kisses down his length. he watched you try to deep throat him again and watched the tears spring from your eyes before you came back up, and all of this built up further until he tumbled over the edge spilling white heat into your mouth with a shout.
you were satisfied.
aching for him? yes, but satisfied at your job.
eren's thigh twitched and his eyes screwed shut as you didn't remove yourself from his length yet, cupping his balls and paying attention to his tip, overstimulating him, watching him shudder and gasp under you like you wanted. his dick hardened again while he contemplated whether to remove you from his length or let the over sensitivity go until he had no choice but to stop, and once again he picked the prior. "_____, please i want to be inside you now, wanna fuck you still."
you slipped off of him and crawled forward only now aware of the wet spot on your panties.
eren brought your face towards him kissing you with no hesitance despite him just being in your mouth. he pecked your lips and you smiled as he praised you. "you did so good, so good..." another peck and then his hands trailed down to the shorts you were still wearing, giving your ass a squeeze and spreading them. "but now i want to see that pretty pussy on my dick, yeah?"
you let him slide off your shorts and underwear simultaneously until your slick heat was exposed to him and to the air, feeling it brush over you before eren's hands could. your head fell to his chest feeling the cold metal of his chain underneath you, and your sore jaw parted when you felt his rough fingers gather up your wetness on them, rubbing through your slit. "eren..."
"c'mon, sit baby. we're not done yet; fuck yourself on me." he placed his lips on your the top of your head. "please?"
you picked yourself up and scoot back taking eren's dick in your hand once more. you didn't even care that he didn't have a condom, you trusted him, and you trusted the birth control you were on too.
finally you slipped down onto him and for him it felt like you were sucking him up inch by inch until he bottomed out inside of you. "so fucking tight... you're so wet." he groaned with his hands on your hips and yours on his chest steadying you. it had been awhile since you had been fucked and feeling so full again felt good, the stretch felt good and the slight pain subsided so quickly.
slowly, you guided yourself up and down eren's cock until you could find a good rhythm. your chest bounced above him and your ass clapped together, mixing in with the sound of your slick getting pushed in and out of you. "yeah, like that," eren hummed watching you focused, your pussy squeezing around him and you putting in the efforts to fuck yourself on him for both your pleasure.
eren's hands helped guide your body up and down him, and you leaned forward a little to add some more pressure to your clit. everything felt so good, the way he hit your cervix, the way your bud rubbed against his lower abdomen, you could definitely say this was one of the best fucks you had in a while. eren slapped your ass for encouragement before massaging the same area and relishing in your gasp.
"this feels good... and so much better when you're high." you sighed out while your face contorted in pleasure.
"or is my dick just that good?" eren joked looking up at you after your comment.
"shut it, eren.. and," you leaned forward some more. you were somewhat exhausted from riding already, thighs aching and body shivering from the pleasure. "i’m tired..." you admitted almost shamefully.
"you're tired?" he spoke in the way you would to a child while turning you around so you were on your side. his chest was against your back, the cold gold material resting between your shoulder blades and your ass snug against him. he lifted your leg and held it up while you guided him back inside of you until he was buried deep once again, this angle hitting even better.
"i got you," eren murmured against your neck while starting his pace slow. his hand trailed up to your neck and he gave it a light squeeze while pushing you further against him. he loved the way your ass bounced against his lower stomach when he started going faster, making him speed up his pace. "'m gonna fuck you so good."
you let out a slutty moan at his dirty talk, bringing a hand over to your mouth and shutting your eyes. he found that sweet spot inside of you and you couldn't help but react as well as he hit it over and over again. eren's hand on your throat went up to pull your hand off of your mouth. "don't try to hide that pretty voice, i want to hear you, i want them to hear you. get loud baby."
you were sure he felt the way you clenched around him, suffocating his dick as it slid in and out of you at a steady speed, and this time when you let out a moan you let him hear it, you were loud like he asked and tried to put your leg up even further so he could hit deeper.
"eren, fuck!" you were left pondering why you didn't think about this earlier, why you didn't listen to everybody who told you to get with eren. you could've been getting the best dick you'd gotten in years but both your stubborn, wavering feelings got in the way. "yes, oh my god, yes!" you cried out while eren bucked his hips up into you tightening his grip on your neck.
he turned your head towards him and engaged your lips again swallowing your cries and whimpers as he abused your pussy. your hand shakily made its way down to your clit to give you another push but he was quicker, dropping your leg and grabbing your wrist causing you to yelp. "eren, please."
"beg me." that same fervor from earlier returned. being edged on by your cries and shouts of his name, knowing how good he was fucking you and making you feel was such a turn on. "tell me how you want me, how you want my cum."
your breath was ragged and your leg was aching but you wanted it stretched out again where you could feel it deep. you were on the verge of tears. your hips rutted against eren for any boost, any pressure that you could get you to your high. the hand around your neck only gripped further as you didn't respond yet.
"c'mon, beg me baby."
"eren," his name came out broken, your back leaving his chest as your arched hard. "please fuck me, fuck me... please," he started to move again in the least, after all he was on the verge of cumming as well. "fuck, cum inside me, i want it, please." the sobs that left your mouth were so hot and of course he gave you what you wanted.
he fucked up into you after lifting your leg again and letting the fingers that were choking you slip into your mouth while he kissed and nibbled at your neck, speaking in between, praising you and marking you. his hand slipped from your mouth and he brought his wet fingers down to your clit rubbing for you until you toppled over the edge with a loud cry of his name. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your cunt gripped him like a vice over and over again as if you were trying to milk him.
"ah, fuck," the way you were squeezing around him caused him to unravel himself, white painting your walls as he filled you up with his cum, shaking himself. "_____," he heaved as the two of you tried to come down from your escapade.
your breathing was beginning to steady again but you could still feel yourself pulsing around him causing him to pull out before it became too much. "eren.." you answered back as your head relaxed against his pillow while you rested in his grip. you felt his lips against your neck again, then stopping at your shoulder blades.
you were blanking out from tiredness, only then did you realize the state you were in, hair in somewhat of a mess, a sheen of sweat covering both of your bare bodies, and marks littering your body. not to mention the cum trying to ooze out of you. you didn't even realize when eren had gotten up until he came back, wiping you clean and only assuming he did himself too. he locked his door on the way back in and slipped his boxers back on, reciprocating on you with your underwear.
you could feel the bed shift, eren crawling in bed beside you after drawing out the covers from underneath both of you and wrapping them around you and him, bringing you against him before you fell back asleep.
༄ ༄ ༄
you woke up to a hand shaking you, your eyes lazily opening.
"wake up, _____."
"eren?"
the pretty boy smiled at you and studied your features as you tried to wake up completely. you were no longer naked, or in the same position you were from last night, now wearing a plain white shirt and your underwear.
"morning, i gotta head to class soon, remember i have a test, or did i-"
"don't finish that sentence." you rolled your eyes as you sat up completely eren laughing at you. you followed his eyes, them resting on your lips like always and you took it upon yourself to lean up and kiss him, this time quite innocently, domestic almost. "sorry, morning breath, but,"
eren this time cut you off with another soft kiss, his cheeks rising from his smile as he pulled you closer to him.
you didn't want to talk it out yet, you were somewhat fine with where everything was at now, although you knew your friends and eren wouldn't want to coax a direct answer out of you sooner or later.
but you were content with the way eren kissed you just seconds ago, content with his jacket and sweats you had to wear, you were content with having to use spare bathroom products at his house, you were content with the wave armin and mikasa gave you out the door, content with the walk you and eren shared to the college, content with the last kiss he gave you before his class.
content is how you were feeling.
content.
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sweettodo · 3 years
Text
Promiscuous.
⟿ Levi Ackerman x freader x Eren Jaeger
Includes : threesome, swearing, smut.
word count : 4,5k.
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for 300 followers, i promised i would bless you all with a few stories. this was a tough plot to come up with b/c the age difference, but i always come thru :)). enjoy. thank you for 300 friends, readers, and fans. one more story on the way, hope you like !!
Being in the scouts wasn't necessarily all that bad, especially when you had all the strong, agile men to look at all day long.
You didn't bite your tongue, the gushy, teenage girl flirtatiousness that you bestowed upon not one, not two, but a good sum of the boys you worked and trained with every day. Most of whom were your closest friends, who put up with your promiscuousness. For the most part, they fed into it, reciprocating the behavior. But it couldn't be avoided that you took a special liking towards your Captain; Mr. Ackerman himself.
Call it unnatural, call it unusual, but you had a justification for liking him so much. If he said the right thing in the right context, your knees would be shaky and weak, for instance, when he demanded you to 'shut up' half-jokingly for fooling around with Connie too much. You left training that day with a waterfall between your legs, leaving you stunned for at least a week.
The ideas in your head were endless and slightly disturbing. There was no denying you were captivated by him, and he knew it.
Not to mention he took a fondness to you too...
Well, not how you quite anticipated him too. He just believed you were a capable scout, thus him taking you under his wing with your friends. Leaving aside your whorish comments. He took your ignorant attitude with a grain of salt, not allotting you the time of the day- which only made it more of a challenge to get what you yearned much for.
He would scoff, walk away and roll his eyes, reprimanding you on behaving yourself and acting your age. You were 19, you were acting your age, 'I could be worse,' you mumbled under your breath.
Being the species of girl who was drawn to a particular type of man, power play, that sharp attitude which one with a level head and a drop of common sense would take as a definite red flag, the type of man that would punish you for being horny or bratty- you could only dream- it was also clear you couldn't bluff and say that you didn't favor the infamous Eren Jaeger: the strong-willed, wild, dominant and overbearing youthful man. He could command you to get on your knees, and you would in a flash.
Alas, you would not be seeing the pearly gates with what went through your mind about the long-haired, tall, demanding man. On the plus side-unlike Levi- Eren enjoyed the attention you gave him, he played the game with you.
And he played the game good- you liked it.
On numerous occasions, you would be more than touchy with Eren, the little 'not so serious' back rub, or a hand on his thigh under the table to make him hot and bothered. And once or twice, the rare make-out session in an alleyway while your friends shopped or by the stable of horses one time when you were sixteen. Though the sexual tension grew once you turned eighteen when you two were less apt to get in trouble for your conduct- yet you never took it all the way, liking the idea of having him on his toes every time he saw you.
Anyways, today was different than most days, you all were honored with a few days of relaxing, sleeping in, and extra time to eat and shower with no training, or missions.
Appreciating the peace, you lay in your bed buried under the blankets half asleep, taking in the unusual time of relaxation. While nearing slumber again, you're rudely interrupted. A pounding on your door riddles throughout your body, frightening you half to death, you flinch, sitting up in an instant.
"Food! y/n." oh, it was Connie.
You untangle from the blankets, sauntering to your wardrobe, and pulling out a regular old white shirt with shorts. The heat was not something to take lightly around here, you could collapse and suffer from a heat stroke if you weren't careful, so you rolled up your shorts a little and slipped on shoes, taming your hair and heading out of your messy room towards the mess hall, eyes finding your friends and groggily plunging into the bench besides Eren and your other buddies, "sleep well?" Connie laughs, you scowl at him.
"Yea! I was dreamin' about you too! Too bad you ruined it, I was just getting to the good part."
Connie laughs and shakes his head, shoveling food down into his mouth, "I don't even wanna know what that dream was about." Jean grumbles, ruffling his hair to remove it from his clammy forehead; Jean was a difficult one to crack, he usually blushed and would cut your trifling demeanor right off at the knees, he was more for Mikasa's quiet and ethical personality.
"Shut it Kirstein- I do!" Connie protests, you wink at him.
"I'll tell you when I get you alone, how 'bout that Springer?"
Eren could be heard from your left, snorting, you glance over and see his arm raise and head towards your back, yanking your bra and snapping it back against your skin, you unleash an 'ouch' and attempt to reach back and rub the area, "White shirt with a red bra underneath? Who're you tryna' impress?" You shrug.
"Captain, of course."
"More like you dressed in the dark this morning." Eren bullies.
"Captain, what?" Connie and Sasha childishly roll and bounce around in their seats, bellowing laughter while you slowly turn around to face your boss, he reiterates one more time before you chuckle and scratch the back of your neck.
"Talking about how good my boss looks today," the words that roll off your tongue make The tense up and sigh in annoyance, beginning to walk away, you pout, tilting your head, "am I wrong?"
"Keep it up, y/n, I'll have you in a cell indefinitely if you continue this adolescent behavior." He doesn't look twice at you, leaving as quickly as he came. Halting your comments right as they came flying out of your mouth, he had to have been enjoying them! Perhaps a little.
Right as the man in charge begins to leave the hall, he stops, peers his head over to meet your eyes.
"-In chains." Your eyes widen, a perverted grin growing onto your face, looking left to right baffled, 'in chains?' gawking to see if any of your friends noticed the innuendo, but it seemed they were well absorbed in their own business.
But someone heard him.
"In chains?"
You look at Eren, he shared the same shock as you, you wriggle your eyebrows and nudge his side, "I'm not the only one who heard it, so maybe I'm not going crazy." You giggle, finishing your meal and gossiping amongst your friends until it was time to go.
To pass time during the day, you all wasted hours cleaning up to your captain's expectations, finally relieving yourselves for the rest of the evening before dinner; walking down the streets of your town, stopping at the shops down the gravel streets. While everyone talks, your head is elsewhere; replaying that remark Levi made about the chains, borderline obsessing over it- rightfully so.
When he said the word 'chains', you instantly recalled the context behind his innuendo, unless you were going insane, but you had made a joke- your first endeavor at flirting with your boss, mentioning to him using the same chains he used on Eren in court a few years back, your friends condemning your extraverted behavior on the spot; when to no avail, Levi did not feed into that well, sending you to isolation shortly after. And then to Erwin's office to explain yourself... in front of him, Commander Hange, and Levi. Nonetheless, it didn't stop you from toying with the man.
You were somewhat... wild.
Enjoying the rest of your stress-free hours, you spend the evening sitting comfortably in the large common area after dinner; all of you except Eren, who didn't appear at dinner either. God knows where he was.
You lounge beside Armin and Jean, your head on Jean's shoulder per-usual.
"Jean, has Mikasa told you how good you look today?" You hum, his face is instantly soaked up in a rosy flush as he throws his hands over his ears to block your weird comments from reaching his ears, "Mikasa?" you quirk an eyebrow.
"Don't be absurd, y/n" she laughs, "Jean, don't listen to her."
"Jean, you look extra good today," you lean over closer to him, "just thought I'd tell ya'."
"Yeah, yeah." He cracks a small smile, you pat his shoulder then fall back into your seat.
"Awh- c'mon Kirstein, you know I-"
"Y/n, Captain needs to see you..." Eren's voice interrupts the chatting, his head peers into the room, you and your friends falling silent.
"You're probably in trouble again." Armin sighs disappointingly. You promptly stand, "good luck." dragging your feet towards your supposed 'escort', Meeting Eren at the door frame of the corridor, his hands stuffed in his pockets with a deadpan look, watching you begin to take lead ahead of him, "how do you know Levi wants to see me?" You question, examining him whilst walking through the hallways, up the stairs, and around the corner, a few feet away from your Captain's headquarters.
"We talked."
With an uncertain look on your face, churning with turmoil, Eren is knocking once, then twice before pushing open the engraved wooden door, 'Captain didn't even ask who it was at the door-' you furrow your eyebrows, his hand on your back, quickly whisking you into the large room, abruptly stopping in front of his desk.
Your feet are glued to the floor while Eren is closing the door. Levi stands there, propped up against his desk with his arms crossed. The room was eerily silent, you were becoming slightly intimidated. Do you stand? Talk? Sit?
The silence was unbearable.
"Do you need me-"
"I'm fed up, with your manner, cadet." Levi interrupts.
"If I may- Captain," He nods for you to proceed, "why is Eren here?" Captain was very much capable of taking care of reprimanding you on his own, you were almost irritated that Eren was lingering behind you, feeling his eyes burning voids in the back of your head, disrespectfully.
"Isn't that what you want?" Eyes doubling in size, you swerve your head to attempt and get a view of Eren, but Levi halts you once more, treading closer to you so you can look at him, "you don't need to look at Eren."
"I- I don't quite understand."
No one says anything. The air is now thick, more difficult to swallow for oxygen, you were entirely thrown off track with the way he was speaking to you, the way he was looking at you made you want to make a run for it, "Cat got your tongue? Y/n?" Chills rake up and down your body when you feel Eren's breath on your neck, sending your head flying behind you to see the blue-eyed devil almost pressed against your back, you look back at Levi frantically.
"Sit."
Without pause, your ass is planted into one of his chairs, "why aren't you being stubborn? Where's that attitude that constantly gets you into trouble?" Feeling as if you're shrinking, the two men are overlooking you, "go on."
"I- well,"
"She has nothing to say for herself, Cap." Eren looks at Levi, "told you she was all talk." He jabs, were you dreaming?
Your heart thumped out of your chest, you never dreamed of Levi taking it this far, especially when he was so professional... "y/n," Levi's finger touches underneath your chin, raising your head to look at the two men, "always teasing me when you do the same to Eren, so slutty, don't you think, cadet?"
Your mouth drops open at his use of words, finally- the game caught up to you, and you were facing the repercussions, "don't be all shy now."
"I'm not-"
"Then if you're not shy, get on your knees and show us how much you’ve wanted us.”
You hesitate to move, but eventually find yourself slowly sliding out of the chair and onto your knees, "not in my office, go in my room." Eren grabs your arm, walking towards his adjoining room, Levi opens the door and permits you to be ushered in by both him and Eren; Eren grabs you by the hair and directs you back onto your knees in front of your captain's bed, "she's so compliant now that she knows we aren't joking anymore," Levi scoffs, standing behind you while Eren is unbuttoning his jeans right in front of your eyes, a combination of anxiousness and warmth growing in the pit of your gut, looking up at him through your eyelashes, licking across your bottom lip hungrily.
"Be a good girl and open for Eren," Levi bunches up your hair from behind, removing it from around your face.
"Yes sir."
Sticking out your tongue, you try to relax your throat once seeing the size of the man, Levi's grip on your hair prevents you from getting a good look at it before his cock is nudging gently into your mouth, down your tongue, and to the back of your throat, fastening your lips around the base of his cock whilst swirling your tongue when he pulls out of your throat, groaning when your tongue works him with ease.
"So good," He hums, grabbing the sides of your face, Levi drops your hair from his hold so Eren can pick up his pace, using his hands to guide you; gagging and choking while he fucks your throat, saliva dripping down your chin, at the verge of tears, you take his length as far as you can manage. Eren grunting and huffing; only throbbing more when he sees the little tears drip down your cheeks. He heaves out of you, your tongue lolled out while strings of spit follow his cock, the men are astonished at the sight of you gasping for air, but they weren't going to tell you that.
"Are you gonna be good for me and our captain, princess?" Eren crouches down to meet your eyes, clever smile on his face, you nod and he stands you up by your armpit.
You had virtually no control over yourself, they were moving you to where they saw fit; right on your hands and knees into the soft plush sheets, "what do you want, y/n?" you listen from behind you, your head is yanked backward, Levi is there, his free hand wrapped around your jugular loosely, his shirt unbuttoned.
"I want you both to fuck me," you gasp out, they both snicker at you.
"Too easy, way too easy, such a fuckin' whore, imagine wanting both of us," Eren taunts, snatching your shorts down to your knees and lifting your shirt to grab onto the thin waistband of your underwear, "you want Jean to fuck you too? Got any other favorites?" Levi shoves you back onto the mattress, your arms catching you while Levi continues to remove your shorts from your knees, tossing them on the floor, rough hands caressing and pulling apart your ass, both men watch your panties slip in the separated cave of your ass, Eren pulling off your shirt and unclasping your bra.
"N-o, only you guys."
"Who do you want more? Me or your other little fucktoy?" Levi sneers, moving to your front, once again lifting you by your chin, keeping you still while Eren rubs his fingers against the soaked cloth. Pulling upwards against your cunt, the pressure making your clit spasm and scream for the touch of his actual fingers, looking desperate and hungry at your captain.
"I- I can't choose."
Your chest rising and falling, Eren is finally relieving you from your panties, fingers instantly meeting your folds and slipping past your entrance with his two fingers, you whine, eyes rolling to the back of your head, knuckles curving downwards to hook into you and find your sweet spots.
"Well aren't you lucky, you get both of us, even though you don't deserve it," Your captain smirks, getting on his knees, fiddling with the button of his slacks, zipping them down and pushing them past his thighs, "I think she needs to beg for it." He looks at Eren, his erection making itself known from beneath his boxers, fingers quickly scissoring the roots of your hair while he frees himself from his constraints.
"I wanna be your slut- please make me cum." They smile, pleased with your submissiveness.
Cock spilling with precum, he scooches towards your salivating mouth and holds your level to his cock, centimeters away, "so fuckin' wet, can't say I'm surprised you get off to this." Eren's tip rubbing between your folds, collecting the slick that was seeping from your hungry pussy. He pushes into you while Levi is pushing into your mouth, both holes becoming occupied by their pulsating cocks; they longed to fill you up, the torturous teasing you put them through the second you turned eighteen was bound to make them snap- you didn't know what you expected, to be honest, you asked for this.
Eren fucks you slow, savoring the feeling of you clench and suck him in further, pussy stretching from the sheer size of him, veins from the base of his cock hitting and rubbing against the very nerves that were screaming for him to go faster.
Levi fucks deep into your throat, he was about Eren's size, perhaps a little thinner, but he was no match for your throat, choking up the spit from past your throat to lube his cock further. You bring your hand up to assist you, twisting your hand back and forth- up and down while you stimulated his sensitive tip with your tongue, hollowing out your cheeks to suck him back in and repeat.
He was becoming unkempt, his mouth ajar with little moans slipping past his lips, hair dangling in front of the sides of his face while his hips bucked back and forth into the depths of your cave.
"My God, so wet."
You moaned against Levi's cock, Eren speeding up and reaching your cervix, your juices slushing and pussy squeaking while he stretches you out. When his hips connected to your backside, you only want to shrivel up more from the pace he was hitting the hole of your tight cervix. Initially, it hurt, but almost instantly it began to feel pleasurable for both you and Eren, he was reaching great lengths inside of you. He's always wanted to fuck you; almost disappointed in himself that he didn't do this before.
"Taking me so well, I can barely fit," he grunts, "you like my cock y/n? Isn't this what you wanted with your bullshit teasing?" he smacks your ass, crying out, his hips jutting back and forth against you mercilessly, sending jolts into every bone of your body.
He slaps you again, your right ass cheeks burning and tingling from the strength of his slap, "fuckin' slut, better be quiet."
Levi pulls out of your throat, finally able to audible out the loud weeps and cries, he throws his hand over your mouth, "shut up before you get us caught."
"Fuck, Eren!" you wail, ignoring Levis commands, gasps and moans fly around the room, his cock filling you perfectly to the point where you felt like you were made to shape him.
"Open." his hand is forcing your jaw open, sticking your panties into your mouth to silence you. You cry into the fabric, the coil twirling up in your stomach, clenching your walls while he drills into you, his cock rubbing against your g-spot, sending you into a frenzy.
Levi fists his cock for the time being while Eren is chasing his orgasm, knocking into you- inching you towards your orgasm. The back of your head tingling, your pussy twitching, and your stomach tightening, the room spiraling around you while you drop your head into the mattress, eyes screwed shut; Eren tearing an earth-shattering orgasm out of your body.
You see stars and a bright white consumes you, hands reaching to grasp anything, finding Levi's bicep and digging your nails into his skin for support while Eren's cock bathes in your cum, his hands pressing into the small of your back, "'boutta cum, right in this pretty little pussy." He spits, pinning your back to a better arch, you cry into the sheets when Erens thrusts loosen a little, sporadic and stabbing thrusts until he's panting and dumping a large load of his seed into your cunt, letting out moans and swears of approval. Your body convulsing, wanting to collapse.
Erin's lightheaded, dizzy and sweating, little bangs and baby hairs sticking to his soaked face, watching your cum drip down your thighs, the wetness from your pussy which had soaked his stomach, it was a fucking mess.
Everywhere.
He pulls out of you, your cream coating his cock; snatching a shirt and wiping himself clean, hiking up his boxers, "you're not done. On your back, now."
Without warning nor regard, you're pushed forward into Levi's hands by Eren to get you moving quicker; you slide onto your back, Levi takes charge and steps off the bed, hauling you by the thighs until you're at the edge of the bed, Levi pressing his hands under your thighs, holding them up and letting his cock slap against your cum-filled cunt, biting onto his bottom lip, teasing his cock into you.
He leans down, taking out the pair of underwear from your mouth, "keep quiet, understood?"
Quickly nodding and bracing yourself, happy to feel warm again.
"Did Eren fill you good?" he asks calmly, you nod.
"Yes- Levi."
Levi halts mid-thrust, peeved look on his face, "yes what, y/n?" you swallow hard, throat dry from the cloth.
"Y-yes Captain, he did." You mewl, he nods once before finishing his thrust.
"This pussy is so tight, even after he stretched you out like this?" he huffs, head dipped down- eyes filed to your pussy sucking in his cock so well; hair flopping back and forth, "I told you I was gonna do something about that mouth of yours, didn't I?"
"Y-you did, sir." You wail.
Levi didn't hold back, each of his sharp thrusts made you more tender inside, little cries fall from your swollen lips while Eren sits beside your head, big arm reaching over your face and kneading your boob, he watches them bounce slightly as Levi ruts into you. Rolling your hard erected nipple in between his fingers, "look at that face, are you gonna cum again?" you look up at Eren, who wears a smug look on his face, "are you gonna cum on Captain's cock, y/n?" you whine, trying to remain quieter under your Captain's directions.
"Gonna-" Eren's hand moves once more- over towards your clit.
This was the first time tonight you had felt this overstimulation, hissing in air and biting onto the skin of your lip, hand grasping Eren's wrist as he swirls little- yet strong circles into your clit, your mouth slacks open, “please! Feels so-" another burst of spasms erupting, thighs shaking and clenching around Levi's waist, "f-fuck me- Fuck me harder Captain, please!" You cry, walls convulsing, cum seeping out of you, down your ass and the base of his cock while he fucks you silly, Eren bringing you that much closer to a euphoric feeling again as he rubs your spasming clit.
"Yeah? You want me to fuck you like the whore you are, right?" Levi pants, cockhead rubbing against your sensitive and exhausted g-spot.
"Who can fuck you better?" Unable to audible, Eren moves faster around your num.
"Don't disobey our Captain, pretty girl- use your words." Screwing your eyes shut, the two men await your answer.
"I-I don't know- Ah!" Your back arches, core tightening for the second time tonight- body shaking as the following orgasm sends you over the moon, Eren's hand smacked over your mouth, you wail into his hand, Levi pins your legs open, leaning down to fuck into you harder, thrashing into your guts, pussy gushing around him until he is groaning and throwing his head back while he slams into you, his stomach nearly slapping against Eren's fingers, his dick twitching. His cheeks rosy and his muscles flexed.
"Fuck, so good- so tight- keep squeezing-" he breathes.
You're dazed from the rocking of his hips, he slows, catching his breath while he releases, coating your bruised walls with his cum. Your body left empty and quivering as Levi is slipping out of your cunt, Eren handing him the same shirt he used to wipe himself off with; your captain retrieving it and cleaning the amount of cum that was left on his softening dick, moving to you and carefully wiping the inside of your thighs and beaten cunt.
Catching your breath, Levi is picking his boxers up from the floor and pulling them up along with his pants, “don’t stay there forever, my sheets need to be switched.” He states, Eren reaches for your hand and helps you sit up, putting his shirt over your head and you slip through the arms, feet meeting the cold wooden floor, you attempt to stand, your knees buckling, Eren grabs you by the tricep before you land on the floor and sits you back on the bed.
“I think it would look suspicious if I carried you out of here, can you walk?”
You nod, “yeah.”
Standing again, you're able to succeed, reaching for your underwear, Eren already had it swinging around his index finger, “I’ll hold onto these.”
With no willpower to object, you just pull up your shorts and pick up your shoes.
“Walk her back, Jaeger, don't do anything stupid.”
You and Eren both leave your Captain’s office quietly, the hall empty and empty, you and he slowly walk back, you laughed at the thought about how it would be a tough one to explain why Eren was shirtless and you were- quite obviously- wearing his shirt while he holds your stained shirt in his hand.
With great luck, you and he make it without running into anyone, reaching your door, you and him enter and you shut the door behind him.
“Here’s your shirt.”
He watches you as you throw off his shirt, tossing it to him and opening a drawer, and grabbing one of your own.
Before you realize it.
“Uhm, Eren, I forgot my bra.” Glancing down at your bare chest, Eren shrugs it off and laughs.
“Captain wanted to keep something too, princess.”
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plsimsuchasimp · 3 years
Text
cheating pt. 2
part 1 here
Ft: Suna Rintarou x !gn reader, a little bit of atsumu miya x !gn reader
Genre/warnings: hurt/comfort, brief mention of fighting, panic attack, angst to fluff
Wc: 2.6k
NOT PROOFREAD!
The morning after you broke up with Suna, you wake up with a sour taste in your mouth, hugging a pillow. Momentarily disoriented, you look around your room until you spot your phone, and it all comes crashing down.
Oh no. Your chest tightens when you see 41 missed calls from Suna and 118 unread text messages over the course of the night. You'd fallen asleep with your phone set to silent, crying into your pillow at the immense betrayal.
Slowly, you unlock your phone to see increasingly frantic messages from Suna, begging you to forgive him and take him back. Ten new voicemails. You shouldn't press it, shouldn't listen to his voice. But you do.
"Y/N," immediately, your heart cracks at the sound of his voice. He sounds so desperate, so frantic, tears clinging to the words. "I'm so, so, sorry. You have every right to be mad at me, every right to hate me. I hate myself too, and I'll never forgive myself for doing that. I-I just wanted you to know that I-" the recording becomes quieter, only the faint sniffles picked up on it. "I love you."
It ends there, and you freeze. He'd never told you he loved you before, skipping over it whenever you jokingly mentioned the future. You knew he was scared of commitment, but it still hurt whenever he ignored it. A particular memory from two weeks ago floods your mind, no matter how hard you try to push it away.
You were lying on Suna's bed, resting your head against his chest as he scrolled through the videos he wanted to upload to Worldstar. His arm was slung around you, his lips pulled up in a smirk, his green eyes flicking from the phone to you and back again. It was comfortable, a lazy Sunday with the sun just beginning to set behind his curtains. You nestled further into his chest, his heartbeat regular and reassuring. You let your eyes drift closed, basking in the warmth of his affection.
Almost too soft for him to hear, half hoping he wasn't listening, you whisper "I love you." He stiffens, and you know you messed up. His heart skips a beat, and he pretends like he didn't hear you. You swallow, embarrassed that he didn't say it back, but neither of you moves until Suna gets up, saying he has to use the restroom. He doesn't come back for a while, and when he does, he mutters something about it getting late (it was barely 6 pm) and how he'd forgotten that he had to do something today. Taking the cue, you took your stuff and left, silently cursing yourself for saying it before he was ready. Things had been awkward the next few days, with him responding less and less frequently and seeming more distant and cold.
Come to think of it, it was right before he started acting strange.
oh.
Pressing a shaking hand to your mouth, you squeezed your eyes shut. Was that why?
Before you could sink deeper into your thoughts, you heard a knock at the door of your bedroom. The door opens to reveal Atsumu, standing awkwardly in your door frame. Yelping, you bring the bedcovers up to cover yourself, forgetting that you’re still wearing your clothes from last night. “How did you get in here?!”
He blushes, eyes flickering around your room and refusing to land on you. “Yer mom told me where the spare key was.”
You sighed, and he came over and sat on your bed, looking at his feet placed on the floor. “Ya okay?” he asked, voice low. That wasn’t what you’d expected. It was rare for Atsumu to be serious, rare for his brow to be furrowed so severely.
“Well, that’s debatable,” you said, scoffing a little. He nodded, eyes still fixed on the floor.
“I saw Suna last night,” he blurted out.
“You did?” Your eyebrows lift, surprised at his uncharacteristic behavior.
“I punched him,” he admits, lifting his head. “I was just too angry at him for hurting ya.”
Then it was your turn to look at the floor, not responding to this statement. What were you supposed to say, anyway? You sit in awkward silence, waiting for Atsumu to gather his thoughts and speak again.
“He’s in love with ya, ya know,” he says quietly. “That’s why it doesn’t make sense.”
“Why would he cheat on me if he loves me?” you ask, lip quivering slightly. You noticed the tense of the word; is. Not was. He sighs in frustration, shoulders slumping.
“I don’t know.” Seemingly debating on whether to say something, he decided to anyways, “He just let me hit him.”
“What?”
“He just stood there when I punched him, didn’t even punch back or anything. He just looked so sad, ya know?”
“Sad?” you scoff. “He was the one who decided to do it.” He nodded, knowing you’re right.
“I don’t really know why I came here,” he admitted. “I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay. Aren’t ya missing class right now?”
“I’m not going today,” you mutter. He understood. Silently, he got up and left the room, and you heard the door shut short afterward, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
It wasn’t raining anymore, but the clouds still clung dark and heavy, low to the mountains and shrouding the distant buildings. Puddles shone on the ground, the leaves outside your window glistening with raindrops.
It hurt. It hurt so badly, the confusion and anger and sadness all combined. The truth was, you still loved Suna, and apparently, he loved you. Falling back onto your pillow, you felt like crying, but the tears wouldn’t come. Your eyes were dry, the pain finally internalized. The good memories of your time with Suna came then, flooding your mind and squeezing your heart.
The first time you two kissed, in a parking lot of a 7/11  at two in the morning. His lips tasted like soda, the sweet fizz almost intoxicating. It was a quick kiss, feeling him smile against your lips and seeing the smirk on his face when he pulled away.
Watching the stars together from the roof of a building on a moonless night, offering you his jacket when he noticed you were cold. You fell asleep in his arms that night, the cool winter air brushing your cheeks and inciting him to hold you just a little bit closer.
The playful insults exchanged, the banter slowly turning into backhanded compliments, and then sweet nothings whispered in your ear.
The warm, enveloping hugs, although somewhat rare- he would hold you, one arm on the small of your back and the other caressing the back of your neck.
The skeptical look on his face when you took him to the grocery store, fully intending to make a new dish you’d seen on TV with him. Not noticing the softness in his eyes as he watched you, your excitement contagious in his smile.
The teasing he endured because of you. The day you walked into the gym, bringing him a homemade bento, the boys had teased him relentlessly. He didn’t mind, because it made you happy.
All of that was gone now, and the miserable aching in your heart was a constant reminder of it. You let sleep take you away again, the pain in your expression being smoothed away by the gentle lull. When Suna slipped into your room using the same key Atsumu had failed to properly hide, he saw you curled up, hugging a pillow in your sleep, a small crease marking your forehead. He always said you looked angelic in your sleep.
“Suna…” you murmured, shifting slightly, and his eyes grew sad at how you grimaced slightly at his name.
He made his way to your desk chair, sitting down silently and grabbing a piece of paper from the desk along with a pencil, beginning to write.
When you awoke to the sound of a pencil scratching paper, it took you a second to register that there was someone else in your room. You screamed, clutching your pillow until you recognized Suna.
His eyes found yours, and the guilt and shame in them were almost overwhelming. You looked away, clenching your jaw. The pencil fell from his hand, seeming to fall in slow motion until it hit and bounced off of the floor, clattering once, twice, and then three times before rolling away from his foot.
“Get out,” you whisper.
“Can we just talk about this-” he rushes, standing up and impulsively moving closer to you.
“I said get out!” You yell, flinching away from his touch as if it’s some sort of deadly disease. His face falls, and he withdraws his hand, swallowing hard. “What is there to talk about? You cheated. It’s not a mistake. It’s a choice, and you chose to break my heart!” You look at him, anger and pain mixing in your eyes, and he finally gets it. You’re not coming back. He ruined it with an impulse decision, a reckless choice in the face of his fear of commitment and the overwhelming feelings that he didn’t know how to deal with.
The day you told him you loved him, he froze only because he didn’t know what to do. He’d gotten up, gone to the bathroom, and sunk down the door, back straight and head tilted towards his knees. This had never happened to him before- every time he’d been with a girl, he’d never felt like this. Was it love? He already knew he messed up by not saying it back, but his emotions were confusing, distracting, almost frightening. He’s taken his mind off of it by falling into a stranger’s arms that night, reassuring himself that he was still the same old Suna, the one who didn’t need anyone.
God, how he hated himself for that. Tears welled up in his eyes against his will, and he stared down at the floor.
“Why are you still here?” You spoke, back turned to him, “I thought I told you I didn’t want to talk to you.” Your words stung, you knew they did, but you didn’t really care. The paper in his hand fluttered to the floor, almost inaudibly brushing across the wood. His bottom lip quivered, and the tear that clung to his eyelash slipped silently down his face, making his green eyes appear even brighter than normal.
Thunder crashed outside your window, and Suna froze, his sharp intake of breath making you turn. He looked petrified- his entire body seemed to be shrinking into itself, his hands trembling and clenched, his eyes wide with unmistakable fear in them.
“Suna?” You got up from your place on the bed, curious as to what was happening, then remembered. Suna had a crippling fear of thunderstorms. “Suna. Suna, hey, look at me.” You waved a hand in front of his face, but he just started shaking harder, his breathing getting faster. Gripping him by the shoulders, you gently pushed him towards your bed and helped him sit down, your brow furrowing. “Can I touch you?” you asked gently, receiving the smallest of nods in return. You sat beside him and started rubbing his back, gently holding him closer to you. Thunder triggering a panic attack had only happened twice before, but you were familiar with how to help him through it. “I’m going to go close the curtains now.” Almost methodically talking him through your movements in an attempt to distract him from the thunder growing louder outside, you went to close the curtains and turned on your bedside lamp. “Tell me how I can help.”
He struggled to speak, his breath turning into short hyperventilations until you sat down next to him and started breathing loudly and evenly, hoping he would hear you and try to match his breathing. To your surprise, he turned to you and hugged you, burying his face in your chest and huddling close to your body. Stiff at first, you slowly wrapped your arms around him and rocked back and forth, whispering into his ear that it was almost over and he would get through it. You could feel his back shuddering, trying to maintain control of his breathing and failing. Out of instinct, you rested your cheek on his shoulder, staring at the picture of you two that still rested on your nightstand, and you felt his breathing gradually slow. Soon, he stopped shaking, but he still clung to you as if you were his life raft in a tumultuous storm.
It wasn’t until you felt wetness on your shirt that you pulled back, concerned, only to see tears dripping down Suna’s face. He instantly missed your warmth, your smell, the feeling of you holding him, but he knew it would be selfish of him to try to pull you back in.
You didn’t speak, eyes flickering from him down to the blanket underneath you. Your anger was gone now, and as hard as you tried to hate him, looking at the vulnerability displayed on his face melted the resolve you had.
“You look terrible,” you say, eyes wandering over his disheveled hair and puffy eyes.
“I didn’t sleep last night,” he responds, and you instantly feel awkward.
“I-I’m sorry,” you mumble, unsure of what to say. He just shrugs, gazing downwards.
“About what I said in the voicemail.” At these words, you freeze. “I meant it, and I’m so sorry for not saying it earlier.”
You turn away from him, eyes burning, as you feel a lump in your throat. “If you love me, why did you do it?”
His words die in his throat because that’s what he’s been wondering this whole time. If he loved you, why did he do it? “I-I did it because I was scared.”
“Scared?” you spit, pain lacing your words, “Scared? Do you know how terrified I was to tell you? I know that you’re scared of commitment, I know that it’s hard for you to express your feelings, but do you have any idea how many hours I spent wondering if you even liked me anymore? If you even cared at all?” Hot tears spill down your face, your lips quivering as you tip your head back and stare at the ceiling. Quieter, you say, “Do you know how many times I cried myself to sleep because of you? No, you don’t. But I still believed in us, I really thought it could work, and you threw it all away because you were scared?”
You shook your head, and he stared at you, hating that he made you feel like this. “I had no idea,” he rasps, voice husky from the breath caught in his throat. “When you told me you loved me, I realized I loved you too. I’d never felt like that before, and I was scared of my own feelings, so I wanted-” He stopped, unsure of how to continue. “I needed to distract myself.”
Each word stings, a knife stabbing into your back, as the tears fall harder and faster. You look up at him and see there are tears streaming down his face too, the shame too much for him to bear.
“I would do anything for you to come back.” His voice breaks, becoming breathier as his shoulders begin to shake again. “Please.”
In one swift movement, you pulled him close to you, and it was your turn to huddle into his chest as you sobbed. Just for a second, just for a moment, just to feel his touch again, but he wrapped his arms around you tightly and didn’t let you go. Clinging to each other, you shared the pain.
“If we can move past this,” you mumbled, face pressed against his shirt, breathing in his scent, “you can’t ever do something like that again.”
“No, no, of course not,” he assured you, voice thick with emotion, “I promise I’ll be so much better. I’ll try to give you everything you deserve.” 
He pulls away and looks at you, drinking in your face, before pressing a soft, hesitant kiss to your lips. When you reciprocate, he kisses you harder, with more passion, holding you as if he can’t let you go. “Thank you,” he mumbles against your lips, and you feel the pain and anger and worry seep out of him.
It was going to be okay. a/n: i’m not really sure about this one, but i hope you guys enjoyed! sorry for the major angst, lmao also tiny reminder my requests are open even tho i kinda suck at them
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s0apysm1les · 3 years
Text
Ohhh my gosh~ I just came across a yandere x reader short for Spiderman and it was so so soooo good! But it left off at a cliffhanger! And it got me thinking...
yandere spiderman x gender neutral!reader
Word Count: 1k+
Yandere Spiderman who sneaks into Reader's room at night just to stare at you and watch you sleep
Content: GN!Reader, Stalking, Breaking and Entering, Watching someone sleep
Only chicken little uses a beta
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Living in New York, you always lock your windows - hell you'll put a slip of wood in along the track on your more paranoid nights. Which you've been having more often lately. You find it difficult to sleep lately, wanting to keep yourself up all night to make sure that there isn't anyone there. You know there isn't. There can't be! But you still can't escape the feeling that you get when you wake up... someone was here... it says. You can almost smell someone else's shampoo on your desk chair - well, it could be someone else's or it could be that the new soap your using just smells like that after a bit?
Whatever it was, you knew something was off. Was something moved or missing? Was there any sign of someone having broken in, but things were the same as usual. The bar was still in place, hidden in the window's track from creeping eyes, holding the frame down - should the lock be broken somehow. But what wasn't there the night before was a small spiderweb in it. And sitting neatly in the center of the web was one you recognized as a Lace Web Spider. It had a darker head and a butterscotch colored body and some splashes of a lighter honey-colored shade of brown.
You were well educated in the world of Arachnids and Insects due to a completely *rational* fear of them and bugs - despite what others might say. Your arachnophobia and Entomophobia had a long history, following you all the way back to why you moved to New York in the first place.
You stomached the small whimper that came up at the sight of the small creature and backed away slowly. You were so petrified of the currently docile ...thing! that you had immediately grabbed what you needed and quickly shot out of your apartment a good ten minutes before usual. Looks like this morning was the first in a long time where you wouldn't greet that Parker guy as you left for work.
You had developed a habit of greeting the soft-spoken brunet each morning as you both left at the same time. You worked at the coffee shop just two storefronts down and across the street from the Daily Bugle, so you two tended to take the same path and as such you started talking. He was cute... in a simple way. He wears a pair of black frame glasses and has a semi-permanent smile on his face, the kind that many people take advantage of. And you were sure that many did.
But ignoring him since he wasn't there, you went to work. You poured the regular cup for J Jonah Jamison for the moment his pressed intern of the week to rush in for it just ten seconds after you completed it. Jamison was a good man. Eccentric for sure! But he did mean well... for the most part... you hoped...
The day came and went, screaming matches from angry people were heard and given and you headed home. The spider, terrifyingly enough, was gone and you took an unused chopstick from your last order of chinese takeout and swiped the web up. Nothing. No eggs, no bugs in it and no damage to the window from in or outside.
Again, you went to bed not really wanting to go to bed and again you woke with the spider in the window, web once again on the stick.
It was tonight that you decided to test your paranoid mind. It never steered you wrong before and if nothing happened, that would show your mind that there was nothing to fear... So you go to bed thirty minutes more than usual and start doing math in your head to stay awake. While subtracting 7 from 100 until you got as low as you could that something happened. You were at 42 and you were sure that you messed up somewhere when a soft, barely audible tap was enough to catch your attention.
Never really one to lose their cool in high stress situations, you were still calm with level breathing and a calm heart rate when you hear a soft set of feet settle on the carpet you covered the ugly old wooden floor with.
You were curious. Who wouldn't be? You stayed there, trying to listen for their breathing and found and felt nothing. You were wondering how they even entered the room in the first place when a soft -ticking was the best word to describe it-sound seemed to come from around your room.
Your heart began to race, knowing just what you were hearing was the itch inducing sound of a spider's legs, like dry wicker brushing together. Your eyes shoot open and you were unfortunately facing said window as you did. From there, you could see a shadowy figure sitting in the chair in front of your desk. You only saw the large one at first, until you noticed all of the smaller ones too, crawling slowly through the light.
"It's okay citizen-" the figure chipped. His words sounded like they came from a smiling mouth, but they were cold and made your skin crawl. You saw the large white slits of his eyes stand out against his red textured body suit.
"I was just... making sure you were okay." The notably male voice of the now identified Spiderman told you in a flat tone. You held your head back from shaking negatively, be it either in disbelief or horror, you were sure he wouldn't appreciate the action at all.
You held out in the uncomfortable silence for a good ten seconds before you had to speak again.
"...Why?" You dragged out, slowly wrapping you throw blanket over you like a sweater under the gaze of your friendly Neighborhood Spiderman. There was something about not being able to see where he was looking as he stared at you that unnerved you even more so than the twenty-something spiders of varying species slowly walking to the super human sitting in your chair.
"I can't have you getting hurt~" His tone held a sort of joy in it as he spoke. Tilting his head, he continued, "After all, I'm your friendly neighborhood spiderman, [Name]. You're safe, don't worry. Go back to sleep, now." He chuckled. He didn't clarify further, just continued staring at you until you laid back down onto your bed and tried to return to sleep under his scrutinizing gaze.
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neonponders · 3 years
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Here’s a prologue for my The Mummy AU!
This all started because of the moodboards above, created by @memes-saved-me and @harringrove000 . I just couldn’t help myself.
Here’s my original post about this au (it includes links to the moodboards) ~
And @hoegrove I know you wanted to see this so 🌹
Read on ao3 ~
• • • • • • •
The overhead bulbs and candlelight cast harsh shadows and warm light throughout the grimy bar. Everyone glistened with sweat from the desert heat. The night brought with it gentle, cool breezes over the Nile, but in this packed place, the occasional thworp of paper and silk fans being thrown open could be heard. Even the swish of luxurious ostrich feathers swayed to cool people off.
Steve moved his legs to cross his knees, the papyrus green trousers brushing against the military beige breeches of the man sitting opposite him at their small, round, gambling table. They had gathered quite an audience; the messy pile of money had long since included bets beyond Steve and this man’s wagers. Steve hadn’t caught his name, but he felt the heat of his body through their trouser fabrics, and more than once caught himself staring at how the light gleamed in that dark blond, honeyed hair.
“You trying to distract me?”
“No,” Steve smirked, “I’m trying to get comfortable.”
“Stressed?” the man crooned.
Steve removed his gaze from those pin-made waves of his hair. They had long since given up their shape to the day’s heat, but a tress outright curled over this handsome bastard’s forehead. Steve dared to think he looked better unkempt. “Not one bit. Play your cards. You’re dressed like you have somewhere to be.”
“I’m in no rush,” he replied lethargically, like this was exactly where he wanted to be.
Steve let his eyes wander him a little more. “You sure? You look like a military man.”
“Honorably discharged.”
“Congratulations.”
Steve knew his eyes were blue, but in this lighting they looked like clear glass over onyx pupils when he tilted his head to look at Steve curiously. The latter retaliated before he even spoke. “Is that a strange thing to say?”
The blond shrugged with a gentle shake of his head as he plucked at his cards, rearranging them in his hand. “Only if you worship at the alter of hyper patriotism and military imperialism.”
Some chuckles sounded around them as harlots shared long, cigarette filter stems with their johns, and the barkeeps made glass clatter. Steve exhaled in a huff. “Whatever that means. I’d like to win, already. Play your cards.”
“You first, dear.”
He did, laying down his fan of cards underneath the row of cards from the dealer. The Madame of the place listened to their exchanges with amusement but kept it professional as she narrated, “Full house. Always something to brag about. And you, Mr. Hargrove?”
Hargrove, huh? Steve mused as he watched for any amount of discomfort on the man’s face. He didn’t get it.
“Straight flush,” the Madame said, aligning the winning cards with those from Steve’s and her own line. Steve had practically given him that win. And more of his father’s allowance than he would ever admit.
Hargrove moved a stack of chips to the Madame’s side of the table for a substantial tip, and then offered that hand to Steve. “Good game, Mr…?”
His eyes lolled under a slow blink before he accepted the hand. “Just Steve. It’s what I get for losing.”
“Let me top off your drink, at least, Steve.”
He took his loss with grace and stood to follow Hargrove to the bar. The crowd separated for him apart from a random slap on the back and long fingers stroking his hair in consolation. Hargrove reached the bar first, and watched all this while leaning back on his elbow. A light overhead moved across the exposed skin of his chest, just as honeyed as the rest of him, and the sparse hair there. Steve discretely lowered his gaze as if to not trip over the tiled stair raising the bar from the regular floor.
“Do you come here often?”
Steve snorted a quiet laugh and lifted his gaze. “You’ve already got me here. Ask me a real question.”
Hargrove smiled as the barkeep approached. “A bottle of red, please. Two glasses. It is a real question. People respond to you as if they know you here.”
Steve mirrored his stance and leaned into his elbow on the bar. “My sister and I come here sometimes. When we want to get away from…all of it.”
Hargrove hummed deep in his chest as the sound of a cork popping briefly diverted their attention. “Sister?”
“Stepsister, if you want to get specific, but she’s not here. You’ve only got little ol’ me.”
The barman poured two glasses without stopping, holding the vessels together with a practiced hand before he set them and the bottle on the bar. Hargrove paid him as he replied, “I have one of those. A stepsister, I mean. Although I don’t know how much it counts if you haven’t seen your so-called family in years.”
Steve reached for his wine and asked before he meant to, “Do you miss her?”
It was a bit too personal of a conversation between strangers. Hargrove’s pause made him quickly add, “You don’t have to answer that.”
“I’ll miss you, depending on how the rest of this night goes.”
Steve coughed on his wine. Hargrove chuckled as he offered a pale blue handkerchief to wipe his mouth. “Are you always this generous to people who’ve lost money to you?”
“Only the ones who are pretty enough to be a prize themselves.”
Steve’s eyes lolled in his head despite the rouge blooming in his cheeks and dusting across this throat. “If I’d known you were so used to winning I might’ve spent my money better.”
Hargrove’s eyes held steadily on him. “I’m glad you didn’t.”
* * *
Steve’s back pressed hard enough against the wall to break the kiss with a huff. He craned his face towards the sky as Hargrove made him shudder with soft lips and prickling stubble on his throat. They could hear the bar’s goings-on just on the other side of the exterior wall, but leaving the humid interior was refreshing on their wine-flushed skin. The darkness of the Cairo alleyway freed Hargrove’s hands to massage Steve’s backside.
As Steve caught his breath, he managed to slip his own hand between them, feeling the muscle of that chest for himself before he ducked to taste Hargrove’s skin. Salt and the neutral sweetness of a man’s skin. He liked the little sounds that Hargrove hummed while making a mess of Steve’s hair.
“I want this hair all over me. Better than silk.”
Steve lifted back up to frame Hargrove’s head in his hands, claiming and tasting and licking into his mouth. The way Hargrove kissed—like Steve was an oasis and honeycomb. Delicious and all his. It made Steve want to have him right here. Better than wine and cigars—intoxicating, having this kind of attention all to himself.
Hargrove hummed again, this time to get Steve’s attention. “Put your arms around me. I’ll do the rest.”
He didn’t fully understand until his trouser buttons slid free with ease. Steve openly moaned in the wake of Hargrove’s hand massaging his front, finding which direction his erection stood and easing it out into the night air. As his warm palm pumped him to aching readiness, Steve’s hands continued to wander Hargrove’s body. The man kissed him in a rush, almost brutally plundering his mouth before releasing to latch onto Steve’s collarbone.
One of Steve’s arms remained anchored around Hargrove’s shoulders. The rest of him rocked gently against the man intent to take him apart in a back alley—not that Steve minded one bit. His other hand pushed aside that half-open shirt to squeeze a nipple. Hargrove groaned deliciously and lifted his head to give Steve’s ear the same tantalizing attention—
Steve frowned a little at the hard and heavy rock of a thing knocking against his hand. It didn’t take much to pry the thing out of Hargrove’s jacket breast pocket. Steve didn’t have the time or the lighting to see what it really was. He had half a mind to hold onto it just out of petty spite. A token for taking so much out of his own wallet.
A reason for Hargrove to find him the next day.
Except a voice made Steve chirp, “Huh?”
And then Hargrove faced him with the same curiosity. They realized together that neither of them had spoken. Gas and oil lanterns were quickly moving through the alleyway, held aloft by harsh voices.
“Shit!” Steve hissed, rapidly putting himself back in his trousers. He yelped a choked sound as Hargrove yanked him out of the alley by his arm.
“We gotta go!”
“No shit!”
“Split up!”
“What?”
“GO.”
With that, Hargrove shoved him right into the vaporous air of a crowded hookah restaurant. Steve could only dodge and duck around rapidly standing patrons as the police flooded inside. The kitchen staff only reacted after he’d already dashed through the room, and by then, the police were too held up to catch up with him. Steve didn’t stop running. He heard yelling and whistles in the streets behind him, but he kept going—Hargrove’s strange stone clutched tight in his hand.
Only once he’d finished a very round-about path back to his lodgings, did he sneak quietly past his sister’s room and light a lamp to see his prize. The octagonal…thing…fit well in his palm. On one face, jagged lines had been finely carved, but all around its edges were familiar hieroglyphics.
“Oh. What the hell—better yet, what is a handsome American in Egypt doing with you in his pocket?”
Steve went over to his writing desk to find his glasses in a drawer. He popped them on and recognized a cartouche when he saw one. “Seti. Pharaoh Seti, huh? Well, Robin’s going to be all over this when she sees it.”
A shrill whistle outside startled him enough to drop it heavily on his floor. The whistle sounded far away, but he remained very still in case the wrath of a woman awoken before dawn barged into his room.
If Robin woke up, Steve remained blissfully unaware. He quickly undressed, washed as much of himself as he was able with the washbasin, and collapsed onto the bed. With Hargrove’s fancy artifact on his bedside table, Steve let the memory of sharp beard stubble and firm hands guide his own down to his cock. He got himself back to standing and finished what Hargrove started quickly.
But it was soft lips, open arms, and steady eyes that eased Steve to longing sleep. A slumber so deep that had his stepsister threw a pillow at him the next morning for oversleeping on her way to work at the National Library.
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ourimpavidheroine · 2 years
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Happy Birthday!
It’s been seven years to the day since I published Please Excuse My Penmanship, my first Wuko/TLOK fanfic and the one that started all the glorious hot mess that is over a million words by now.
I had written it back in December of 2014; it took me a couple of months to work up the courage to post it. I was shipping Wuko when I was watching the show and there really wasn’t much fic out there at the time. What little of it was there - with one or two exceptions - wasn’t at all to my taste, and everyone else was writing Korrasami fic anyhow. 
I wanted to do a letter fic, even though I knew some people would just bail the fuck right out of there as soon as they saw it. And so I did. And it turned out okay, didn’t it? I still think so, all these years later.
Over these past seven years my life has seen so many changes. My wife died, my little family imploded, both my kids and I suffered some pretty severe trauma that we’re still feeling the results of. My kids grew up and hit adulthood. I survived breast cancer. I wrote a lot to get me through.
Some of you have been readers from the start. Some of my readers left when the story turned into something they no longer wanted; some of them left the fandom entirely. Some of them just disappeared as their own lives took them over.
Some of you left due to various issues and came back, and I have always been so grateful for that. I notice when my regulars go away. And I worry.
And some of you are new readers, who came my way when Netflix brought along Wuko 2.0, even though what I’m writing doesn’t appeal to a lot of teenagers. Hello and thanks for reading!
I’ve gotten so many wonderful, heartfelt comments along the way. (All of you long time readers know about @marezelle​ and their amazing comments; and in fact it was them that let me know it was PEMP’s birthday today!) I’ve gotten fanart that I treasure ( @scarlettfire's​ painting of Huan and Goba in Ikki’s Corridor is framed and hangs above my desk) and my work got translated into Polish and, much to my eternal delight, the “Raava in a teapot” phrase I coined was obviously mistaken for canon because I’ve seen it in several other fics over the years.
It’s been a hell of a ride, is what I am saying. Thanks so much to all of you, over the past seven years, who have come along for any part of it. Love you.
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americasmarauders · 3 years
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in your eyes - Bucky Barnes
author’s note: so remember when I said I wouldn’t write Bucky anymore, only that one time? yeah, so I said, you know, like a liar. I saw the first episode of falcon and the winter soldier and that was all it took for me to fall into the ‘bucky barnes simp’ hole all over again. I made an entire one shot based on a single piece of a dialogue from the first episode. the story starts right before the first episode and ends right after the last. I spend an entire month and a half working on this please give it some love.(pls reblog i beg of you) Huge thanks to @batarella and @glorified-red for beta-ing this. ily <3 hwo knows, if people love it enough I might give a part 2. 
summary: her quiet job in the library got louder when Bucky walked into her life. (Bucky Barnes x telepath!librarian!reader)
WARNINGS: i do write a bit about addiction in this, if it makes you uncomfortable, please do not interact. it’s not heavy, or graphic, but the reader does experience abstinence. be warned.  no spoilers for tfatws, but i do reccomend you watching it. 
words: 11,416
mastelist
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#
It was all so loud usually. When she first discovered her ability, it was like there were suddenly a thousand voices yelling inside her head all at once. She remembered falling to her knees, clutching her ears and crying out as the voices shouted different things at her. 
 Then the Professor came, promised her to help control her own mind. She didn’t want to trust the guy, even if he said he had the same power as her--even if he said everything would be alright. But the headaches were getting worse, the voices were getting louder and louder. She took him up on it and left her home to live in his boarding school. 
She met interesting people and--at the end of her stay--she achieved what she was there for. It took 4 years of her life, constant nightmares from reading too much of her colleagues' minds, and several isolated afternoons - more than she wanted to admit. Nevertheless, she could finally go to a concert or have a normal college class without crying from pain. 
She lived a normal life after her time at the Institute. She mostly ignored how her teenage years were far from the ordinary, or how sometimes she could hear a random thought from the person sitting next to her if the thought was loud enough. There were days when everything got too much, days where she lost control. She would stay in her house with noise cancelling headphones on (even if it didn’t work like that, it somehow helped) just going on throughout her day as quietly as possible. Tom knew she would get sick, even if working at the library rarely made her go into her lockdown modes. 
The library calmed her in a way. The thoughts were rarely disordered and loud, more focused and quiet. It fascinated her that even in their thoughts, people respected the quiet environment the library required. But sometimes, someone would appear with a troubled mind, something  books couldn’t even soothe. 
There was a regular now, he was one of those people whose thoughts were always all over the place; she couldn’t pick them apart, words would fly through her head -  words she often associated with the book he was reading. She wouldn’t know, it was Nancy that talked to him most times.
He always sat at the same old, worn out armchair, talking with the older people in the library as if they were the only people he was comfortable with. Sometimes, she would be restocking the books and see him looking at old newspapers. She never got the courage to talk to him. She figured her curiosity wasn’t enough to muster up the bravery needed to utter a word to him. 
Tom was on leave that day. He was stalling his doctor’s appointment, telling her his back pain wasn’t that serious, but she knew better. Every so often she would hear a whisper of pain in her head and she knew her boss wasn’t alright. It had taken her months, but she finally convinced Tom to go and get his back looked at. 
So she was working the counter that day: checking books off, admitting them, and then separating them so she could reshelve the books the next day. It was pretty boring work, repetitive, and she wondered how Tom kept busy all day when she finished all of her chores in a couple of hours. 
“Excuse me,” she heard, standing up as a reflex. Her eyes trailed up to the person standing in front of the main desk. It was the Loud Man (that was what she had taken to calling him). “I want to check this off.”
“Yeah,” she said, breathless. She was hearing too much from him, too many random words. It made her feel dizzy. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”
She took the book from his hands, her fingers brushing slightly at his leather gloves, her thoughts suddenly got even more flooded at the slight touch. She could feel a rising nervousness in him, so much it blended with her own nerves. She quickly retrieved her hand, hoping she hadn’t seemed impolite. 
She sat back at her chair, looking at the book. “The Hobbit, huh?”
“I’m re-reading it,” he said, his eyes sincere, “I read it when it first came out.”
She looked at him funnily. “You read it in 1937?”
His expression froze, the slight smile morphing into a frown, his loud thoughts got louder with a single word: ‘lie’. “That’s a funny joke.”
She smiled at him, not taking his comment too seriously. “I’m a funny gal.”
He laughed, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. It was like he was only checking off  a box of social convention. It quickly faded to an impatient expression, and she could tell he wanted to get out of the situation as quickly as possible. 
“I haven’t seen you here before,” he mentioned.  
“Oh,” she muttered, “I’m usually reshelving things, Tom operates the front desk but he went to the doctor. I’m the only other person who works here, so,” she trailed off, “I’m Y/N.”
“Bucky,” he responded, his face slightly tensed. His eyes hovered over everything in the library, as if he was trying to find something wrong in it. 
“Nice to meet you, Bucky," she handed the book back to him. "It's due next week. Don't be late with it.”
“I'll return it tomorrow,” the words slipped from his mouth. 
“Fast reader?” she asked. 
“Got nothing else to do,” he shrugged, the word ‘lie’ once again swimming in her head in the mess of thoughts she received from him. 
He gave her one last smile and disappeared into the library. His thoughts got distant, but they lingered in her head. Flashes of pain, bright white lights, and screams littered her mind. She shook her head trying to get rid of them. It rarely worked, not with thoughts so persistent. 
Her head started to pound as the thoughts got more intense somehow. That never happened before, usually she could only hear people that stood near her and she was sure Bucky walked all the way to the back - he wasn’t close to her in any way. 
Her hand shook as she fished out her headphones. She put them on and connected them with her phone. Playing her music was a hopeful distraction, detering her brain enough to quiet down everything. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out slowly, just like the Professor had taught her. He used to say a quiet and strong mind was the key to ward off stray thoughts. 
It helped clear the thoughts, the mess of words only leaving whispers of broken thoughts in the way. She grabbed those and put them away, shoving them inside a mental box of lost thoughts. She did that with all the others, it helped keep her mind organized. 
She didn't know how much time had passed when she opened her eyes. She always took too much time clearing her mind, she would forget the outside world. Peter used to poke fun at her for that, drawing penises on her face. When she came to her senses she would always run after him, ready to tackle him to the ground. It was always useless: you can't outrun Peter. 
She noticed Bucky leaning on the frame of the front door. It was getting darker outside, an orange hue illuminating his eyes perfectly. Her breath hitched for a second before recomposing herself. 
“Good nap?” he asked, the smallest smirk on his lips.
“I wasn’t napping,” she smiled, shaking her head. She checked the clock and saw it was way past closing time. It didn’t go unnoticed by her that he had gone out of his way to stay with her when he should have gone home. “Why’d you stay?”
“Everyone left,” he said, “and I thought it wasn’t safe to leave you in a trance alone in an empty library.”
“I wasn’t in a trance,” she took her headphones off, resting them around her neck, “I was… clearing my head.”
He looked at her funnily, “Busy day?”
“It’s been weirder than usual,” she responded, smiling. She sat back down and logged off the system.
“How weird is working in a library?”
She scoffed, lighty. “You have no idea,” she smiled mischievously.
She picked up her things, keys in her hand. She left the front desk, going to Bucky’s side. “Thanks for staying,” she said, “You really didn’t have to.”
“It’s no problem,” his hand brushed the back of his neck with a timid smile, very unlike his general physique and stance, “I had nowhere else to go.”
She could feel his thoughts bubbling underneath her skin, wanting to come out and flood her brain with confusing images and words. Whispers of faint words echoed through her mind, soft enough that she couldn’t distinguish what they were. 
“I find that hard to believe,” she said, words slipping out of her mouth faster than she could stop it. Old habits she supposed. She could always keep thoughts of other people to herself, it didn’t seem fair to them she could hear their thoughts, the least she could do was keep them to herself. But when it came to her own, they just came out of her mouth before her conscience could stop her. “I mean,” she started, “a guy like yourself -  good looking and all - must get a lot of people just, um, throwing themselves at you.”
He breathed out, an awkward expression on his face. She could hear one word clearly: ‘lie’. “I don’t date a lot,” he stated, “Not really my thing.”
She changed her approach to the conversation, sensing the uncomfortable energy he oozed. “Oh,” she muttered, “It’s okay, I mean, I don’t date a lot either. I barely leave my flat actually,” she brushed a single piece of hair out of her face, “I hate crowded spaces, and I have just the weirdest habits. You know, not a lot of people are into women who work at a library and barely make minimum wage,” she mumbled, her hands in her pockets restraining her hands for gesturing too much just like she always did,  “I have a lot of issues too, at least that’s what the Professor used to say to my therapist before each session, which is fair and--oh God, I’m sorry, I just rambled.”
He chuckled (an actual chuckle), a full light-hearted laugh, one that rumbled throughout his chest. “It’s fine,” he said, “I like listening to you talk.”
She heard the words ‘like’ and ‘quiet’ shoot through her mind. She smiled at him shyly, looking down at the ground. “I don’t know how to respond to that,” she laughed awkwardly, “Thank you again, for waiting and being, I don’t know, just nice, I guess.”
He smiled, a slightly bigger smile then he had given her the entire time they’d interacted. “Yeah, yeah,” he shook his head, “No problem.”
Both of them walked out the door. She turned and locked it, then pushed a button that activated the security systems of the building. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she said whilst shrugging. 
“Yeah, yeah,” he went down a few steps of the main staircase. “I’ll see, uh, see you tomorrow.”
She saw him go down the steps, listening to the faint echoes of his thoughts in her head. She felt the tips of her mouth curl up, watching him go as the sun set on the horizon. She hadn’t felt that before, that sense of mystery, of wonder and curiosity. His mind was in shambles, broken pieces of it laying in every corner of his brain, and she heard all of it. It compelled her, even if it felt completely wrong to be so enthralled by someone’s mind. 
She felt inadequate for liking his mind when he didn’t even know she could listen to it. It wasn’t the first time she felt that way. She remembered a boy from the shop near the Institute, she loved hearing his thoughts. She rarely left the Institute, but when she did she would always sneak to the store to buy a popsicle as an excuse to admire him. Sometimes he would smile at her and her brain would malfunction for just a second, his thoughts flooding her and overwhelming her every time that happened. 
She anticipated it was only a matter of time before that happened with Bucky again. She didn’t exactly know if that was a good thing, if she should indulge in the latent curiosity and table herself further with his mind - with him. 
The sun set in the horizon, the orange glow fading to the blue of the night sky. Walking down the streets, she could still hear remnants of his thoughts inside her head, his imprint already set on her. She wondered how long it would take for it to fade, if it would fade and if she wanted it to.  #
#
He gave her one last look before walking away from her. She could feel him uncomfortable, it lingered in her head longer than it should. He lingered in her more than he should. Her eyes followed him on his way out of the library. His mind was confused and tired, it left a trail of breadcrumbs calling for her to solve the mystery that was.
Tom’s doctor ordered maximum rest. Apparently, the problem in his back was more serious than both of them anticipated. The doctor ordered as much rest as Tom could have, meaning more breaks and leaving early. That also meant she had to do double the work - she wouldn’t mind at all had she not left a pile of returned books to shelve. 
She put her headphones and drove the cart full of books through the library all afternoon. Usually not a lot of people came in on a Monday afternoon to check out books, most were local teens that were there to study or make out. She always pretended not to know which ones were there to actually study or not; the thoughts always flew out to her when they were there to snog, most times it was hard to contain the shit-eating grin that would want to rise. 
She felt someone touching her shoulder. She jumped slightly, startled at the touch. Turning around, she saw Bucky, his thoughts overwhelming her. She rested the headphones around her neck, pulling out her phone to pause the music. “Hey, Bucky,” she breathed out, trying to contain the images and words in her head, “What are you, um, how you doing?”
“I’m good,” he smiled at her, looking down at the ground, “Um, Tom’s not at the front desk and I gotta return the book.”
“Oh yeah,” she took the book from his hand. It was still warm from his touch, “I thought you wouldn’t come today, to be honest.”
“I said I was,” he looked at her intensely, eyes narrowing in suspicion. 
“Well,” she smiled awkwardly and averted her eyes to the ground, “People sometimes say things they don’t mean.”
She didn’t realise what she said until it was out of her mouth. She remembered how he was uncomfortable around her, and how he would think about lies just as he told her something. Embarrassment flooded her senses, she felt heat rising to her cheeks. 
He looked at her weirdly, as if he was analyzing her. The more he looked, the more she listened to his mind. Words of suspicion floated around, she swallowed dryly and nervously at the thoughts. Echoes of screams and a crushing sense of guilt came through, she wondered what had happened for him to think of that. She wondered if she was the one person that caused him to think like that. 
“I’ll return it for you,” she said, motioning for the book, trying to get the attention off of her. 
“Yeah, thanks,” he said, “D’you mind if I get another?”
“Yeah, go ahead,” she said, “I’ll wait for you - at the front desk, I mean,” backing away from him, she accidentally bumped into a bookshelf,  “Not, um, not any other way.”
He stared at her and nodded slightly. She turned around and walked to the front desk, cringing at her inability to mutter coherent words to him without stumbling in the middle of a phrase. Something about him made her lose all of her composure, she didn’t know if it was the constant flood of thoughts and memories she listened to from his mind or just him making her nervous. 
She sat down at the chair behind the front desk, and rubbed her face, as if it would rub the embarrassment out of her. Sighing, she returned the book for Bucky. Just as the day before, his thoughts lingered in her head, images that meant very little to her were calling out.
“Why’s Tom not here?” he asked. She looked up at him, his blue eyes piercing through her. It was the first time she noticed his eyes, and somehow, it made everything worse. Instead of whispers, she heard everything clearly. Fools said the eyes were the windows to the soul. She knew better: someone’s eyes told her what they were thinking, what they were feeling. And she could tell Bucky felt a lot. 
“Um,” she looked back down to the book she just admitted back, moving it to the pile of books to reshelve. “He’s on leave, doctor’s orders.”
“Back pain was somethin’ serious then?” he responded, handing the new book to her. 
“Yeah, I told him to get that checked out, turns out I was right,” she shrugged, getting the book, her eyes still fixated on the computer. She felt the leather of his gloves graze the tips of her fingers, and a searing pain shot through her head. She brought the book down to the table, closing her eyes hoping the pain would stop. “Brave New World? Revisiting the classics, huh?” she struggled to keep a whimper from emerging from her mouth. 
“Yeah,” he breathed out. She heard a whisper of concern run though his head, “Um, are you alright? You don’t look very well.”
She shook her head, faking a smile, pretending she wasn’t getting a thousand thoughts from everyone in the library- especially Bucky’s thoughts - blasted at maximum volume on the speakers of her mind. “Just a bit of a headache.”
“It looks serious,” she could hear the leather from his gloves squeaking as he rested his hands on top of the counter. 
“I’ll be fine,” she gritted through her teeth. It had been years since she was last in a position like that, her head throbbing with thoughts that weren’t hers. “I have these all the time.”
She heard his thoughts of concern louder than the others. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
She dismissed his question, not wanting to dwell on his concern longer. “Here,” she handed the book back to him, her other hand closed in a fist, “it’s due next week. Don’t be late with it.”
“I won’t,” he said, his tone slightly strained. “I’ll return it tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she shook her head, her eyes closed and teeth gritted, choosing not to question how he would return that book tomorrow. She fisted both of her hands, her fingernails sinking in the skin of her hands. “Yeah, it’s fine,” she whispered to herself.
She heard his footsteps moving away from her, she sighed in relief, hoping it would mean her mind was going to calm itself and the headache would fade. Instead, the footsteps grew closer to her once again and then the leather of his gloves was grazing the skin of her arm, helping her stand up and guiding her somewhere.
“Imma take you to the hospital, doll” Bucky stated, not leaving room for discussion. 
“No,” she tried to shake off his hold, “My shift’s not over, I can’t leave.”
“You look terrible, and you’re clearly in a lot of pain,” he grabbed her arm again, “You need to go to a doctor.”
“Doctors won’t solve this,” she once again freed herself of his hold taking a step back from him. More of his thoughts flooded her mind, a mess of memories and guilt overwhelming her. “They never solve anything,” she breathed out, her voice breaking, “I just need to rest.”
“Doll,” he dragged, his tone temptive and careful. 
“No doctors,” it was the first time she had looked in his eyes willingly. There was a sort of weird determination in her eyes, one that came with years of terrible experiences with doctors. Hundreds of appointments that left her more desperate than before, endless tests and thoughts heard that she didn’t have any fix, as if she was broken in the first place.
His jaw tightened and his intense eyes fell upon hers. Her throat dried up under his gaze, her head unbearably heavy with his thoughts and hers. “Fine,” he growled, his hands moving to the pockets of his jacket, “Fine.”
“I need to go back to work,” she backed away from him, slowly. “I--I’m sorry,” she whispered, not sure why she was apologizing to him. 
“It’s okay,” his jaw was still tight, his eyes were still intense lingering at her. She couldn’t even appreciate his gaze at her, and how if she was a normal person,--if she didn’t have that goddamn gene--she would have let her heart skip a beat and feel coy under his gaze. “It’s your choice.”
There was a stubbornness to his stance, something that told her he wouldn’t be backing down so easily. She couldn’t go to any doctor, she couldn’t risk anyone finding out. She didn’t want to go through the tests and the never-ending questions, whether it was out loud or not. There was only one person who could possibly help her, and she refused to go to him. 
She backed away from him quickly, turning around and heading to the front desk once again. Her headphones found their way to her ears, and she started to blast her music at full volume, hoping, or rather praying, it would help ease her headache. She put her phone in her back pocket, grabbed the book she had just returned. 
The cart wove between the shelves with ease under her direction. She could still feel Bucky’s presence within the library, it was like carrying an iron ball tied to her feet at all times. Unlike the day before, he was more troubled, he felt more things and more intensely. It was too much. She wondered what happened for him to be so restless. 
The music hardly helped, it somehow made it worse. She couldn’t shake the tangled thoughts and think for herself, and the music disturbed even more. She dropped her headphones, frustrated. Her head pounded, desperation rose in her. She refused to call Professor, he would not help, he would only rub in her face that she shouldn’t have left. ‘This wouldn’t have happened if you stayed at the Institute, Y/N,’ she could imagine him saying if she closed her eyes. 
“Are you better?” turning around, she saw Bucky, his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. His eyes were focused down, his shoulder slightly hunched. It looked like he was ashamed of asking her if she was alright, almost as if it was his fault that she was in pain. It was, but she didn’t hold it against him. She was certain it wasn’t his fault. 
“Not really,” looking at him, she analyzed his expression. His jaw was tense, she could see his hands were fisted inside his pockets, “I just need to sleep.”
He nodded slightly. “You sure you don’t want anythin’?”
Her head tilted slightly and her mouth quirked up a little. She could tell he wanted to charm her, she heard the word bounce around her head faintly--the guilt was louder, though she could barely hear anything else--and she would lie if she said she didn’t like his attention. “I am” her hands entangled together, her knuckles tight, “but thanks for the offer.”
“Yeah, yeah” he breathed out, his hand brushing the side of his leg in a nervous habit. “I need to go,” he pointed back at the door, his face stony. 
He gave her one last look before walking away from her. She could feel him uncomfortable, it lingered in her head longer than it should. He lingered in her more than he should. Her eyes followed him on his way out of the library. His mind was confused and tired, it left a trail of breadcrumbs calling for her to solve the mystery that was. 
#
#
She sat cross legged on her bed, her eyes closed. There were candles around the room, the lighting dim and warm. The smell of  incense was strong, it swallowed the entire room. It was necessary, she needed that to ground herself to the real world, and not lose herself in her mind. 
 Since calling Professor was not an option, she tried to take matters into her own hands. She was going to untangle the knot of thoughts Bucky had left in her head by herself. It could potentially be dangerous, if she wandered too far who knows what could happen. She had taken the necessary precautions, but she had  only done that before under the careful and judgemental eye of the Professor. It was the first time  she was doing it alone, it scared her to think what could go wrong. 
She breathed in calmly and concentrated on the knot in front of her. Her head was a whole other world, it could be molded to her will, she felt safe in it. Now, it was a black empty space, the only thing filling it was herself and the pulsating mess of thoughts Bucky had gifted her. 
Kneeling in front of it, she carefully picked apart superficial thoughts, setting them aside. They didn’t matter to what she was there to do, they were only random words and snippets of his day-to-day life that she was sure were not the ones causing him so much pain. 
It didn’t take long for her to reach what pained him. It was surprising to see the amount of thoughts in front of her, usually it was much less. People tended to blow things out of proportion often, little things could cause a world of hurt to themselves. Bucky seemed to take a lot of pain, underestimating his grief. A typical mentality of someone who lacked the confidence, who didn’t trust themselves enough. 
She picked a single memory and entered it. 
The lighting was dim, a yellow glow swallowed her. The room was dirty and disgusting, the tiles that were once white tinted an yellowish gray. It looked like a room used for medical procedures, judging by the sheer amount of medical-like instruments littered around the desks. There were no calendars in sight, she had no way of knowing when the memory had happened. 
There were at least 5 or 6 people in the room, all surrounding a metallic chair. She approached the scene, carefully. Standing beside the chair, she saw Bucky.
He couldn’t be much older than he was when she met him. His hair was slightly longer than it was currently, just brushing his forehead. He was shirtless, his skin glistening in the faint lighting of the room. His hand was tied to the chair. His temples bruised from something she hadn’t figured out yet. His chest moved violently, struggling to breathe properly. And his left shoulder? There was a red swollen scar there. She doubted the wound was fresh, more like reopened. Maybe they tried putting a prosthetic there and it failed. It was likely they hadn’t administered any painkillers in the procedure, and she felt anger boiling inside her at the thought. 
“James Barnes, 3255...” he trailed off, muttering under his breath. His eyes were halfway closed, it looked like he barely could keep them opened.
“Попробуй снова,” try again, one of the doctors said. 
Her eyes lingered on the doctor that had just spoken. He looked evil, and she felt in her bones he was. His smile was wicked as his eyes lingered on Bucky struggling to catch his breath tied to that chair. All of the doctors looked sadistic and malefic. She felt goosebumps flood her skin, disgusted by the situation. 
The machine started whirling. An appendix lowered into Bucky’s left eye, another lowering to his right temple. Someone put a protection on his mouth, and she could see Bucky trying to free himself from his ties. Something told her, even in an altered state of mind he was already conditioned to know that noise and that feeling were bad news. She swore she saw his eyes flicker to hers just before everything started. 
The screams - his screams - bounced on the walls and filled her soul in a terrifying way. Tears came to her eyes as she carefully studied what was happening to him. His hands formed fists, his knuckles totally pale on his flesh hand. His eyes were shut violently, his mouth open in a painful way. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but she couldn’t. She wanted to hug him and take him out of that awful place, but she couldn't. It was all a memory, it already had happened and she couldn’t do anything about it. 
The doctors recited words in russian repetitively. Her eyes traveled to the doctor holding a red notebook. The wicked smile never faltered, completely ignoring the man in pain in front of him. She felt a urge she had fought so hard to suppress: she wanted to invade their brains, pick them apart and tear them down from the inside. She wanted to scream and shout at them and destroy everything in the room with a single thought. The fact that she was inside a memory and couldn’t physically change anything bothered her little. The anger and sadness she felt were real.
The machine stopped humming and Bucky stopped screaming. When he opened his eyes, she saw something that utterly terrified her. His eyes were empty, devoid of emotion, very much unlike mere seconds before. They were wide open, focused forward, looking beyond the doctor that was hovering over him. 
“Soldat?” one of the doctors asked, a wicked smile forming on his lips.
“Готовы соответствовать,” ready to comply.
The room became blurry and she was sucked out of the memory. She stood there in front of the knot of thoughts. A feeling of inadequacy overwhelmed her, and she willed herself out of her own mind. She shouldn’t have done that, not without his permission. He didn’t even know she could hear his thoughts, much less explore the memories he had left with her. 
She gasped for air as she came back to her senses. Bucky was much more complicated than she had anticipated, and the guilt he carried around with him wasn’t blown out of proportion and unwarranted. He felt as if things he had done, whatever those things were, had been his responsibility. But she knew more about the mind than him, she knew that that person she had watched be tortured was not him. Those eyes told her nothing, and his eyes told her everything and more. Those eyes were from someone who was a puppet, stripped of free will and agency. So maybe his guilt was warranted, but it didn’t mean it was his fault.
She rubbed her face and laid in her bed, looking up at the ceiling. Her heart raced inside her chest, the adrenaline of doing something so wrong settling on her. She would have to be honest with him.  She let a shuddery breath, as she realized she was at the point she avoided when meeting people. The fear of rejection was crushing and familiar and with time she realized it was easier to push people away, not forming connections deeper than trivial than to explain what she was. But Bucky was different, she felt it in her bones. And she wasn’t willing to let him go. #
#
Tuesdays were fuller than Mondays, but only slightly. Maybe one or two more students came in, trying to get ahead of the curve and not procrastinate their studies more than necessary. The amount of work she had was enough to keep her busy throughout the day, even without Tom’s help. 
She hummed the song in her headphones, weaving her way through the shelves, puting the few books that were returned that day back where they belonged. It was the part of her job that gave her the most pleasure. It gave her a sense of control and order, something that had lacked almost her entire life, especially while she was at the Institute. Professor had controlled everything back then. He controlled her and Peter and all the others to be something that most would not have chosen to be if given the choice. It made her feel helpless and tiny. But she had freed herself from that reality, much to Professor’s dislike. And now she could happily find her control in tiny things, like putting books back on their shelves. 
“How come I always come when no one’s at the front desk?”, her headphones fell to her neck as she turned around to look at Bucky. He wore a shy smile on his face, clutching two books tightly in his gloved hands. His thoughts were quieter that day, but still present and loud. She doubted it was enough to give her a headache, but it was enough to leave a mark on her mind.
“Well, I’d say it’s just your luck,” the corners of her mouth quirked up. “Wanna check those out?” she pointed at the books in his hands.
“Yeah,” he breathed out. She started walking towards the front desk, Bucky at her tail. “So, are you better?”
“Yep,” she nodded, getting behind the desk and taking the books out of his hands, “Told you I just needed to rest.”
“Doll,” his head tilted, his eyes carefully analyzing her. She heard worry bounce around his head, “you looked like you were about to drop dead.”
She shook her head, a smile creeping its way to her face. “It’s more common than you think, it’s fine, Bucky, really,” dismissing his worry, like it was the best way to earn his trust. “For whom the Bells tolls? Really diving into the classics, huh?”
“Need some comfort,” he shrugged. “It’s been 80 years since I read these, it felt like the time to re-read.”
“80 years,” she dragged, “You look a lot younger.”
His face became briefly stony, his brain going haywire for a second before he relaxed and gave her an awkward laugh. “You’re a lot funnier when you’re not in pain.”
“Aren’t we all?” she slid the book over to him. “It’s due next week, don’t b--”
“Be late with it, I know,” he completed, “I’ll return it tomorrow. Like always”
She heard words of charm and flattery from his mind. It was a timid voice saying it, if she had been distracted she wouldn’t have heard it. Her eyes trailed downwards, her smile tiny and shy. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you’re lying.”
“How’d you know better?” his eyes narrowed at her and his head tilted to the side. She found it absolutely charming that he did that when he was confused. 
“I read minds,” she said, seriously, her face impartial, very much unlike mere seconds before. 
“That’s funny,” he laughed, pointing at her. 
She opened an awkward smile at him, looking carefully at his expression. His mind told her he thought she was pranking him, being funny to charm him. She wasn’t. “I know you think I’m trying to charm you,” her eyes looking at her feet, her fingers entwined in a nervous habit, “but I’m not,” she finished, whispering. 
She could hear confusion clearly in his thoughts. It wasn’t exactly at how she could read his mind, more to why she was telling him the fact. “I can hear your thoughts very clearly, they’re very loud,” she whispered. After all these years of experience with this power, it never got easier telling people about it. “And I didn’t think it was fair to listen to your thoughts - you think a lot you know? - all so loudly and clearly,” She couldn’t look at him, her eyes were still cast downwards in shame, “If you want to, I can explain how it is, we can go for a walk or whatever.”
She could feel his intense gaze on her skin, she didn’t dare to look up. Disappointment was one of the things she hated the most, one she had dealt with a lot. Seeing it in his face would surely break her heart, even if only a little bit. “Fine,” she heard him say it, airly, “But you’re paying.”
She looked up and his expression was impassive. But his eyes were twinkling with a sort of curiosity and wonder that could only mean good things. A weird sort of relief washed over her. She let out a sigh, her features relaxing. “Great,” she brushed a piece of her hair out of her face, “great,” she breathed out, “I just need to close this place.”
“I’ll wait.”
#
#
“Tell me what that boy’s thinking,” he said, pointing to a little boy by the pond feeding the ducks happily. 
Her eyes trailed to the kid, trying to focus on him. It was an exercise she hadn’t done in a while, since she had left the Institute really. “He’s happy he’s with his dad,” she reported, “he doesn’t see his dad often and he misses him.”
“What about the dad?” his hands were in his pockets, his gaze locked on the dad sat on the bench just behind the kid. 
“He’s guilty he doesn’t spend enough time with his son,” she added, her eyes following the posture of the man. His eyes were fixed on his son, watching his every move. It was clear he felt some sort of guilt towards his son, and it was easy to assume that by his stance alone--if you were observant enough. Bucky was, “He works two jobs to pay the child support. He can’t find time between them often.”
 “How do I know that you didn’t just meet those people and they told you their life story?” Bucky questioned, his gaze intense and locked on her. They stopped beneath a tree, orange sun rays peeking from between the leaves. 
“It’s the first time I've ever seen them,” she plopped down beneath the tree, crossing her legs childishly, “I barely leave my apartment.”
He stared at her, his gaze strong and judgmental. Huffing, he calmly got down and sat beside her, his legs spread out in front of him. He crossed his hands on his lap, and her gaze locked at his left hand. She wondered if the arm was still the same as the one she had seen in his memory. That arm sent chills down her spine, it was intimidating and terrifying, the red star staring at her menacingly. “Why, though?”
“I can’t, really,” she shrugged. She looked up, her head tilting to the side, considering her words. “I have these lockdowns when I’m surrounded by too many people. It hasn’t happened in years but,” her eyes closed, the memories of the last lockdown she had flooding back at her. She saw her younger self falling to her knees in the middle of the Institute’s lobby, screaming and clutching her ears, “but it happens, and I’d rather not go through that. I’m not in speaking terms with the person that can help me and I’ll do anything to not talk to him again.”
His lips formed a thin line. A hum trembled his chest, his head resting on the tree behind them. “How much have you seen from…” his jaw clenched, his voice quiet and hesitant. 
“Not much,” she dragged. “I stopped after I realized that I, um, that I was…”she found she couldn’t complete the sentence under his strong gaze. “It wasn’t fair to you for me to see anything, not without you knowing.”
“What did you see?” he gritted through his teeth, his eyes watery and sad. 
“I saw,” she gulped, her voice straining with emotion as she looked deep into his eyes, “I saw you, um, tied to a chair. You were so out of it,” she shook her head, tears flooding her eyes, “you were mumbling your name and some numbers. And then,” she sighed, picking up strength to continue, “and then they - they broke you.”
“What else?” he growled, his hands in fists. His eyes were no longer sad, there was a latent anger in them. It made her sad that she was the cause of his anger, or rather the target. 
“Nothing,” she shook her head, “nothing else. Nothing other than random words from your day to day.”
He considered her for a moment, his eyes hovering her face frantically. She tried her best not to listen to his mind, trying to focus on elsewhere, on someone else. But he was like a magnet, and she could help but to be attracted to him and his thoughts. Words of confusion, anger and infatuation floated in his brain and echoed in hers. “Can you turn it off? Your...thing?” he pointed to her head almost in disdain. She knew better than to believe his gestures.
“Not exactly,” she hugged her legs, her chin resting on her knees. “If I could, I would have, a long time ago.”
They remained in silence after that. He looked at the clouds, considering everything she had just told him. She looked everywhere but at him, trying to stray her mind from him. It felt impossible,  he became her gravity center, and she couldn’t really escape it. She found that she didn’t want to. 
“How did you get the…” he tried to find the right words, “the mind reading thing?”
She laughed at his silly phrasing. “I was born with it,” she looked down at her hands, her cheeks feeling hot. “Professor picked me up and took me to the Institute after I turned 13 because of it.”
“That sounds like a cute way of saying you were kidnapped by the guy,” he commented, his tone serious and his eyes on her. 
“I wasn’t,” she tilted her head towards him, as if she was telling him a secret. “I went willingly, actually. The nightmares were getting worse and the headaches,” her eyes locked with his for a brief second as she brushed a piece of her hair out of her face, “well, headaches like yesterday’s are light ones compared to those. And the Professor, he promised to help me control it.”
“That doesn't sound suspicious at all,” she could hear him roll his eyes in disdain. 
“He did help me,” she assured him, “but at the time, I didn't realize that it would come with a cost.”
“I’m guessing he wanted something out of you,” he inferred, “that you weren’t willing to give.”
“Something like that,” she responded, her voice vague and distant. Remembering the things Professor had planned for her made her scared and, most of all, angry. Angry he dared to think she would be so desperate to abide by his wishes. She had learned that following his plans brought her nothing more than frustration and loneliness, he robbed her and her friends of a stable childhood so they could become his pawns. “He wasn’t a good person.”
“I get that,” he whispered, his head down, looking at his hands. He opened and closed his left hand repetitively. The anger he had felt once she had told him what she had done came back, but directed towards someone else. 
“Listen, Bucky,” she turned her whole body towards him. Her hands itched to grab his, but she knew neither of them were prepared to cross that line, “I’m truly sorry that I… couldn’t control myself. I figured that if I could decipher your thoughts the headaches would stop, but I didn’t realize how much you kept hidden,” she confessed, her fingers fiddling with themselves in a nervous habit. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, I want to give you a chance to tell me these things yourself, that’s why I told you.”
He looked at her for a moment before responding. “You told someone who you’d only known for a couple of days your biggest secret,” he recited, almost as if he had been rehearsing the line in his mind over and over, “because you felt bad.”
“Well, when you put it like that it sounds foolish,” she grumbled. “I know what’s like not to be given a choice, and I wanted you to have the choice to, you know, walk away from me,” she finished, her voice just above a whisper. She struggled to keep her tears at bay, a couple of them spilling and running down her cheeks. 
“Why would I walk away from you?” he asked her, sincerity in his eyes. 
“You wouldn’t be the first person,” her eyes were cast forward, looking way beyond the park. She didn’t bother cleaning the tears that were rolling down her face. “And you wouldn’t be the last, certainly.”
“Doll,” he dragged, his voice low and beautiful, “I wouldn’t.”
She could barely hear his thoughts over her own. She couldn’t think straight anymore, too many emotions flooded her own senses, it was all too much. Her hands rubbed her eyes, trying to rid them of the tears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry.”
“It’s okay,” he shook his head. “But, seriously, don’t tell your biggest secret to someone you barely know.”
She laughed at his suggestion, her smile watery. “I won’t, don’t worry,” her head tilted to the side, her eyes carefully studying his face. It was the first time she truly took him in. His face was so wonderfully beautiful. His nose and his lips were perfect. But it was his eyes that would always fascinate her. So wonderfully blue and so beautifully deep. It was impossible to not fall in love with him with those eyes. 
He got up and brushed his gloves on the sides of his pants. He offered her his right hand, “How’d you say we get that coffee now and you tell me the craziest things you’ve ever seen people think?”
She smiled sincerely at him, her eyes looking up at him in admiration. She took his hand and she let him guide her.
#
#
“Doll, you need to start staying at the front desk,” he leaned casually on the side of the bookcase, looking calmly at her as she turned around to face him. “What if someone important comes in and there’s no one there?
She felt amused at Bucky’s teasing and smiled. “Tom’s supposed to be there, he must have just left to do something,” she stated, smugly. “Besides, you’re the only important person that comes here. At least, to me you are,” she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. 
He bit his lip and looked at her in a way that made her melt. “Aren’t you a charmer.”
She could hear clearly in his thoughts he was amused by her behavior, the word ‘charm’ levitating around her brain. “I learned from the best,” she shrugged brushing past him and walking towards the front desk. 
She heard his heavy footsteps behind her. “Are we still up for tonight?” his voice had an edge that wasn’t there before. She sat down on her chair behind the counter as her eyes carefully analyzed his face. His jaw was tense, his eyebrows were furrowed and his fingers were tight around the book he meant to return. 
“I’ve been up for it every day for the past month, Bucky,” she narrowed her eyes at him. His jaw clenched even more in a way she didn’t know possible. She tried to ignore his thoughts and the words that bounced around her brain. “What are you trying to say?” she asked softly, taking the book from him gently. 
He sighed, resting his elbows on the counter he leaned in. “Sam needs my help,” he said, his voice low and tired. She could tell he wasn’t telling her the full truth, but she didn’t push it. 
“Oh,” she muttered, typing away to return the book he brought. “So you’re cancelling?”
“Doll, I wouldn’t if it wasn’t important,” he stated. She could tell he was sad, his eyes told her so, and so did the words in his head.  It pained her to see him give up their time together. It was cherished by both, and she suspected it was maybe one of the only moments of the day Bucky didn’t have to hold everything in. Mostly because she could see everything he was hiding. 
“Don’t,” she stopped him before he could further apologize. “I understand, an Avenger’s calling you,” she whispered, a devilish smile on her lips, “how could you not answer it?”
“I can think of a lot of ways,” he gritted. He had told her his qualms with Sam Wilson, but it only seemed like friendly teasing and nothing else. Nothing too serious, that's what she judged it to be. 
“Bucky,” she warned him, “there are more important people than me, and Sam is definitely one of those. Don’t feel guilty, that’s what I’m trying to say.”
“Y/N,” he never used her first name. He would call her ‘doll’, or ‘love’ or even sometimes ‘sweetheart’, but never by her first name. Hearing it leave his lips sobered her up quickly, “there’s no one more important to me than you.” 
Her mouth hung open in complete shock at his declaration. Her brain short-circuited for a moment, before recomposing herself. She opened her mouth to respond him but he quickly beat her to it. 
“I’m truly sorry, love,” he shook his head, his eyes cast downwards. 
Her eyes hovered him quietly for a second before slipping the book to him. “I extended the due date. Two weeks and nothing more,” she said, sternly. “You know the drill, Bucky.”
“Don’t be late with it, I know,” he recited. His eyes lingered on hers for longer than it normally would. It felt as if he was memorizing her, studying the little details of her face, the little quirks of her personality. She felt heat rising to her cheeks, like every time she was under his intense gaze. He looked downwards for a moment, his mouth slightly opened. “I won’t be gone too long, just a couple of days.”
She got up from her chair and walked to his side. She bit her lip as he watched her go around the front desk. He leaned on his arm, casually standing there as she looked down at her feet in front of him. “You have my number, I’m just a phone call away,” she muttered shyly. She couldn’t handle this flirty interactions with Bucky. Mostly because she would have to juggle her own thoughts with his. But there was something about his demeanor at that moment that put her at ease, she didn’t feel the need to juggle both of their thoughts, only to embrace them. She let herself feel the butterflies and be fully flustered under his charm. It felt nice. “I’m gonna miss you,” she whispered. 
“Yeah, me too,” he looked at her eyes, deeply and soulfully. She didn’t know how she hadn’t melted at the spot. “I’ll be back, I promise.”
The corners of her mouth quirked up. “I know,” her lips brushed his cheek. She quickly kissed it and looked back at him. “You should probably go. Don’t wanna keep Sam waitin’.”
He smiled at her one last time before leaving her. His smile, there was something different about that. It felt sincere and genuine, unlike all his other smiles that were usually caused by awkwardness and embarrassment. She had seen something completely different in that smile, something she couldn’t exactly place yet. 
#
#
She arrived quietly at her apartment, carrying a bag full of groceries and flowers for her tiny garden out in the fire-escape. Her upstairs neighbor had complained about it for months, until he joined and now she shared it with him. She had plans to make the whole building to contribute to the little garden, she was almost convincing her downstairs neighbor and she was a pivotal person. 
The apartment was too quiet, unlike normally. There were always whispers of her neighbor’s thoughts echoing through the walls, the busy sounds of the streets, the shouts outside from people going by their day. 
“I know you’re here,” she shouted to her apartment, “you weren’t subtle about it.”
“I knew you wouldn’t talk to me, otherwise,” Professor rolled in. He hadn’t changed a single bit since the last time she had seen him. His clothes were the same, his bald head glistened the same way it did, and his chair was just as stoic as his face. She hated him and seeing him in her apartment only reminded her of that.
“That’s cause I don’t want to talk to you, Professor, I thought I had made myself clear,” she growled, resting the bag and the flowers on the kitchen counter. “Why are you here?”
“It has come to my knowledge you’ve been having your episodes,” he said, robotically. 
“I’m not having any episodes, I'm fine” she muttered, her back turned to Professor. She cursed Peter mentally for being a fucking snitch. Next time she saw him she was going to give him a piece of her mind. 
“You’re not,” he corrected her. As usual, she only heard him in a tone of superiority and condencense, he always knew best. “We know what happens when you let yourself go with other people’s thoughts, child.”
“Don’t call me that,” she gripped the counter, her teeth gritted and her eyes shut. Her hands felt clammy, almost slipping from the counter. She had escaped the Institute, she had sworn she would never go back, for fucking Peter to bring Professor to her again. She knew Peter did it because he was worried. It still didn’t make it sting less. “I said I’m fine, I have everything under control.”
“How long have you been taking the suppressing pills?” he asked her, his voice judgemental and cold. 
She turned around to face him for the first time. He was impossible to read, he always made sure of that. As much as she begged him to teach her how to do it, to help her block out thoughts and stop people from getting into her head, he never really did it. She had to discover for herself, and, in that, she never was as effective as him. “It’s none of your business,” she scoffed. “It’s not like I’m of any use to you anymore, Professor. I’m sure you have a brand new shiny pawn you can play with that’s even better than I was. Besides,” she added, crossing her arms on her chest, “you gave me those pills.”
“They’re for emergencies only, Y/N, not continuous use,” he shook his head at her, his piercing through hers, She looked down avoiding his gaze, her jaw tight. Her head started to feel heavy, and she didn’t know if it was his prying or something worse. “Do you remember the last time you used those same pills continuously?”
Her teeth gritted and she closed her eyes to stop him from seeing the tears accumulating in them. She looked at him, her eyes completely angry and full of hurt, “I'm a lot stronger that I was back then,” she gritted. 
“Bad things happen when you repress your power,” Professor warned, leaning on his knees. “You learned that the hard way.”
“I haven't taken them in days.” she stated, trying to keep her head focused and her voice free of emotion. Professor considered her for a moment. She could feel him prying in her head, searching for traces of a lie well told. She knew he wouldn’t find any, she told the truth, even if it was half of it. 
“I know you’re not telling everything,” he told her, his hands fiddling with the orange vial temptevely. “What are you hiding?”
She scoffed, rolling her eyes at him. When she was younger, she wouldn’t even consider behaving badly around him. Now, she knew better. “I don’t owe you any explanations, Professor. I don’t even understand why are you here,” she pointed accusingly at him. “You've done a pretty good job showing you don’t care all my life, I find it hard to believe you care now.”
His eyes found hers, as always completely unreadable. But she saw the little details, the way his jaw tightened slightly, the way his fingers opened and closed the cap of the bottle nervously. It was hard to tell if the tick was fabricated or not, she could never tell with him. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll be in touch,” he wheeled himself towards the door. 
“Please don’t,” she said clearly as he exited her apartment.
As the door closed she let a shuddery breath, laying on her couch in exhaustion. She let a couple of tears fall from her eyes, quickly drying them after. She had cried because of Professor too many times in her life, she would not cry for him one more time. 
Her phone vibrated on her back pocket. She sniffed and fished out, checking what was the cause of the notification. ‘Just arrived. Call me’ from Bucky. Her heart picked up, smiling at her phone happily. 
It rang a couple of times before he picked up. “You’re late,” she said, before he had the chance to say anything to her, “you said a couple of days.”
“I’m sorry, doll,” he breathed out, “it took longer than anticipated.”
“It’s okay,” she shook her head, a smile on her face. “The book, though, you’re gonna have to pay a fee for being late.”
He laughed at the other end of the line. “First time I ever return it late, can’t you make an exception for me?”
“I didn’t do anything, it was Tom,” she stated quickly. Her lips adorned a permanent smile, so much it barely seemed Professor had just left her apartment. They stayed quiet before anyone said anything.
“I missed you,” he whispered, her heart racing in her chest as he recited the words. 
“I missed you too,” she replied back, her voice soft and full of emotion. She tried to contain her tears, an accumulation of feelings from just before and that moment but she couldn’t. “I was so lonely, I’m so glad you’re back.”
“Me too, love,” he sighed on the other end of the line. She could imagine him looking down at his feet, a silly smile on his lips. His eyes were twinkling in her mind the way that melted her, he looked absolutely beautiful as usual. “Do you want to go out? I owe you 2 weeks worth of coffee.”
She looked at the ceiling, trying to contain her heart and failing miserably. “Yeah, yeah, I’d like that,” she breathed out. 
“I’ll pick you up in 20.”
She hung up the phone and got up from her couch, a silly smile on her face. Her smile soon faded after she realised what she had done. She was only off the pills for 2 days, it wasn’t enough time for her powers to normalize. Without Bucky present, the abstinence wasn’t as noticeable. Sure, she could hear everything more clearly, the music her neighbor had stucky in his head, or the busy thoughts of a random person passing on the sidewalk. But Bucky always had a thousand things in his head, and that surely would be a problem. 
She was telling the truth to the Professor. She wasn’t taking them continuously, only a couple of times a week, when Bucky’s thoughts were always the loudest. But she hadn’t told him that she had stopped so late, later than she should have. She was toeing the line again, just like she had done when she was a kid and the prospect of not listening to everyone all the time seemed too good to be true. 
A sigh escaped her lips, her heart racing inside her chest, not for the right reasons. She hoped she could control it, keep her latent power at bay just like she did everyday. It was easy to fool herself like that. She forgot how addicting Bucky could be, how wrapped up in him she would get. It was almost an experiment: how would she deal with Bucky’s mind when her power was at the most raw. She wondered if she should be curious or scared. 
Her hands sweated as she unpacked her groceries. A cold rush ran through her spine, and she remembered the symptoms she experienced the last time she was off the pills. Dread settled in her, anticipating what was about to come. She cursed Professor, her stupid mutated gene and those fucking pills. She often wondered what would have happened if she never manifested any powers, how her life would have played out. 
Then, her senses were flooded by Bucky. She whipped around to the door, seeing the shadow of his feet lingering outside. Her head felt heavy and there was a pain blooming, something much worse than the ones she’d endured when she first met him. It was a side effect, she should have expected that. She leaned on her table for a moment, trying to get used to the pain. The knock echoed through her apartment. She barely registered it, his thoughts flooding her. It was all so incoherent, flashes of yellowed memories and newer ones ran through her head. She heard her name screamed in his head over and over again, his voice whispering pet names he had given her with images of their time together. 
She opened the door and there he was, standing in front of her. He wasn’t wearing his traditional gloves, and he had dodged the leather jacket of a simple longed sleeved t-shirt pulled at his elbows. It was the first time she saw his arm being displayed so freely, so unashamedly. He wore a boyish smile on his face, holding a bouquet of yellow and purple flowers meant for her. “I brought you flowers,” he handed the bouquet to her, his eyes twinkling with a charm she hadn’t seen in him before.  “You said you wanted to expand your garden,” he justified with a shrug, his eyes on the bouquet. The smile never left his lips. 
She almost forgot about her symptoms, letting his charm encapsulate her and warm her heart. She accepted the flowers, their smell overwhelming her. She stepped aside for him to come in, he ducked his head and got in the apartment quietly. It wasn’t the first time he had been over, but it was still odd to see him in her place. It looked smaller with him in it, less lonely. 
“Thank you,” she whispered, closing the door. Her hands glued to the plastic wrapping of the flowers. She wiped her other hand on her pants, gulping nervously. If before she thought his thoughts were loud, in that moment it seemed like they were being blasted in amplifiers at maximum volume. “How’ve you been?” she stuttered, her mouth dry. 
“I’m good, good,” he laughed looking down, his hands on his pockets. She could tell he wasn’t lying, for the first time she asked him that question he actually answered it honestly.  “How are you, doll?”
She grabbed a pot and some dirt to stick the bouquet in it from the cabinet under the kitchen island. “I’m okay,” she replied quietly. Resting the supplies next to the sunflower she had just bought, a wave of nausea washed over her. She felt the color drain out of her face, feeling lightheaded. Her hands gripped tightly around the backrest of a chair, trying to not collapse to the floor. 
She heard him rush to her side, his hands supporting her. The cool touch of his metal arm was contrastant with how hot her skin felt at the moment. “You don’t look okay,” it was like he was yelling in her ear, but she knew his voice was barely above a whisper. “What happened?”
“I’m off my pills,” she gripped his forearms, her eyes shut close. She tried organizing her head, separating her own thoughts with the thoughts of others. 
“Let me get them for you,” he guided her to the couch, gently sitting her down. 
“No,” she reached for him, her voice dying in her throat. Her hold on his wrist was weak, her eyes closed. The light only worsened her headache, she couldn’t bear to open her eyes. “There’s none left.”
“What d’you mean there’s nothing left?” he asked her, his voice strained. She knew he tried to contain his worry, but it slipped out in his tone. If she wasn’t so sick, she would have appreciated his care. “It seems like something important to have.”
“Professor took ‘em,” her words slurred, “I can’t take more, Bucky.”
“Why?” he hesitated, “what happened?”
“My powers,” her jaw clenched at the sharp pain going through her head, “I just wanted to spend time with you, Bucky, but the pain…” the tears spilled from her eyes, her eyes still closed. The grip on Bucky was tight, she was holding onto him like he was her lifeline, the only thing grounding her to the real world and not her head. 
He sat beside her, his hands hovering over her, unsure of what to do. She heard a sliver of guilt going through him, and sadness overwhelmed her because of that. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her. 
“No,” she shook her head, wrapping him up in her arms, “it’s my fault. You’re amazing, Bucky, and I couldn’t stay away,” her tears wet his shirt, her head resting on his shoulder snuggly. She couldn’t help but notice the safe feeling that overwhelmed her in that moment. It was almost like it was where she belonged, safe in his arms. “Your mind… it’s just so beautiful, you’re so beautiful, Bucky. And I was greedy, I wanted you to myself, even if it meant a little pain.”
“A little?” he asked, his voice laced with a sassiness she hadn’t seen before. 
She laughed quietly, looking at his face. His blue eyes were sincere, full of emotion and thoughts she could never bring herself to decipher. “A lot,” she sighed, her eyes fixated on his.  “I fell back into old habits.”
“I get it,” he assented, his eyes cast on hers, looking for something she didn’t quite know what it was. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Stay,” she whispered, her heart beating fast inside her. “Please, stay.”
And Bucky did. For the first time, someone who had met her, all of her, stayed with her. That only made her love him more. He hugged her tightly, his head resting on the crook of her neck. “I’ll stay,” he reassured her, his thumb caressing her shoulder gently, “I got you”
She mumbled ‘I’m sorry’ like a prayer on his shoulder. It was too much input, her own emotions and his blended and her tears were their escape. “I shouldn’t have unloaded this on you,” she sniffed, breaking the hug. “It’s not fair.”
“Hey,” he gently pushed her hands out of her face. Her face was swollen and her eyes were red, but she could tell he didn’t care, she heard the word ‘beautiful’ bounce around in his head. “I can take it.”
She shook her head, words unable to escape her quivering lips. “Hey, stop,” he said firmly but lovingly, “listen to me,” he grabbed her face delicately, his fingers brushing her cheeks delicately. “I can take it, doll. Trust me. I have my demons too,” he whispered, “and they don’t scare you. You don’t scare me. I’m not going anywhere.”
Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t look away from his eyes. The sincerity in them disarmed her completely, the little restraint she had completely gone. Her breath hitched at the sight of the glimmer in his eyes and the love in his mind. “Thank you,” she mouthed, her voice gone. 
“You’re welcome,” he smiled at her, the boyish grin he had sported when he arrived back. “How about I make you some tea?” he got up, walking a few steps to the kitchen. He moved around like her tiny little flat was where he belonged. “I make a mean chamomile tea.”
She laughed quietly, her brain slowly calming down, her fever settling. “I’d like that.”
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Text
Cat Got Your Tongue
Chapter One
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Master List /  Series Master List
A/N: This series is set in the same world as Bare In The Woods (a one-shot were-bear Henry Cavill story). This series will be cross posted between Tumblr and AO3. As Tumblr has no way of preventing minors from reading the smutty bits (and there will be smutty bits) those chapters will only be available on AO3.
My archive work is available to Register Users Only. This means Yes, You Must Have An Account with Archive to read my work. If you'd like more information on how to acquire your Free archive account, please see this post. All you need is an email address to sign up. That's it. Just do it people.
Read on AO3 here!
Summary: The community of Salvation holds many secrets, not the least of which is the diversity of were-folk who call it home. Ember Porosha is one resident for who Salvation isn't just the town's name but her saving grace. After outrunning her past, she's resigned herself to playing surrogate to everyone else's children and never having her own. A mate was not in her future, and she was learning to live with that. Until he walked through the door of The Last Book and Brew.
Thomas Loki Hiddleston wasn't going to be in town long. Here for the naming of Henry and his wife's baby girl and presentation to the weres of Salvation, he planned only to stay a few days. A small town like this could never offer him the outlet he needed for his cat's dark desires, nor could he hide what he was for long. His nature would eventually need an outlet and Salvation held nothing for him. Or so he thought. One wiff of Ember's unique scent and he knew he'd found a long thought lost to him future.
But when she doesn't fall at his feet, and proves more stubborn than a mule, can he resit taking her in hand long enough to win her heart? Or will the bond between true mates not be enough to tame this wild hellcat.
Series warnings: Were-Creatures, Cats, Bears, Smut, Shameless Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Dom/sub, Blood, Blood Kink, this one could (will) get kinky
***
When the sleek black car drove through town, Ember gave it only a passing glance. It was odd, sure, but anyone who drove a Jag was so far out of her league they were playing on a different ball diamond altogether. The car screamed money, something she cared little about.
Sure she needed it, everyone did, but Ember was content with what she had, and in this sleepy town cradled lovingly between the mountains, she didn't need much. She had her sweet yellow cottage, her bookstore, and a community of friends when she desired company. And now, with the snow falling thick on the ground, she would have another singular pleasure. 
Ember's little snow leopard heart leapt at the thought of running through the high passes and sliding down the long slopes, her wide paws keeping her above the snowpack instead of sinking in while her thick coat kept out the cold. It had been too long since she'd last played in her were form, and was looking forward to going out to the ranger station in a few days to visit with Henry, his wife, and their little cub. 
The sweet baby girl already had Henry wrapped firmly around her finger, and Ember couldn't help but laugh at the goofy smile that perpetually graced his face when he looked at his family. 
If a pang of jealousy jabbed her heart, Ember didn't let it show. She'd resigned herself to a lonely life a long time ago. 
The bell over the door of her little shop gave a merry jingle, and she placed the last of the new James Patterson novels on the shelf before dusting off her hands and stepping out from behind the bookshelves to smile at Lorraine, the town's most gossipy raven.
If she was fluttering into The Last Book and Brew, then Ember was about to hear an earful.
***
Tom swept into the charming inn and forced himself to smile at the woman behind the desk. He'd spent a miserable six hours on the road, driven through a blizzard, and killed his cellphone when he'd dropped it in an icy puddle two hours prior as he'd filled the car with petrol. But there was no alternate way to get to Salvation, buried deep in the mountains, except to drive. 
And Salvation was where he needed to be. 
His old friend, Henry, was celebrating the birth of his first cub, and Tom dropped everything to come and see the little darling Henry was blessed with. And to meet the woman who'd tamed the giant bear after all this time. Sadly, he'd been unable to attend their wedding, but he refused to miss the welcoming of a new were into the community, whether he belonged to the Salvation clan or not.
That didn't mean he wouldn't give Hen the gears for choosing to live in some backwater nowhere even if it was beautiful here. 
Still, Tom preferred the city for its indulgences and entertainments. No, he couldn't fall on all fours and run through the concrete jungle he called home, but he'd long come to terms with his destiny. It wasn't as if there was a panther out there waiting to run under the moonlight with him. 
He was going to be a lone cat, a bachelor. He'd resigned himself to it, for no matter what anyone said, no one - were or human - had ever submitted wholly to his dark desires and chosen to stay in his possession afterward. They were all far too soft for his liking, ending in no more than a one-and-done.
At least, he could stalk the clubs and play with those unaware of his darkest needs and wants in the city. Tom was not a Dom to be denied, and those who gave in to the allure of his pretty face soon learned all about the devil underneath his Gucci suit.
"Hello, darling," he purred to the desk clerk. "Thomas Loki Hiddleston, checking in. I believe I have a reservation."
She blushed to the roots of her hair, sputtered, and nodded. "Of-of course, sir. If-if you'll sign a few things and put your card on file, I can get you situated on your back- In your room!" she corrected, staring at her hands. 
Tom couldn't hide his smile, but he swallowed his laughter. It was always the same. The sweet little birds flocked to him, but they had no idea a predator was stalking them.
He went through the incidentals, signed her documents, collected his key and listened intently when she told him about the room, breakfast, the restaurant, spa, and pool. His ears perked up at the last. He did enjoy a refreshing swim. 
"And if you fancy something other than regular coffee or black tea, there is The Last Book and Brew just down the street. Ember makes the best scones and tea."
"Does she now?" he murmured, eyeing Irene - her name on a little plaque pinned to her chest - as she handed him back his credit card. "Perhaps I'll check in on it. A cuppa does sound delightful." The drive had been long, and tea might be just the pick-up he needed before calling round to Henry's. 
He nodded to Irene and headed for the stairs instead of the elevator. Three floors were nothing for his long legs, the exertion minimal, as he hiked to the third floor and down to the end where he fit the old-fashioned key into the antique lock and pushed open the door. 
Tom was pleasantly surprised to find a mixture of well-kept antiques and modern furnishings decorating the space. While the bed and mattress were new and covered with clean, white duvet and sheets, the dresser - upon which sat a television - was a heavy mahogany buffet with curved Queen Anne legs. The bathroom was a revolution of modern plumbing though a cast iron tub stood on clawed feet beside a glass shower big enough for two. Gilt framed mirrors hung above dual vanities into which water poured from brushed gold fixtures. 
It was all very romantic with its old-world charm though the inn was showing its age. Wallpaper lifted at the edges, millwork was chipped and rubbed in places, and a few of the lovely old tiles on the floor in the bathroom were cracked. But with the likely age of the building, it wasn't so surprising. If the gorgeous stone building weren't at minimum a century, he would eat his scarf. 
She could be an absolute beauty with effort and enough money. Yes, he would be comfortable here for a time. The Salvation Inn would suit him.
Tom made his way to the windows that looked out on Salvation's main street. The road was a mess of dirty snow, sanded and salted for ease of travel, but the thick white flakes floating down turned the quaint replica gas street lights into white-topped monuments of winter. Storefronts glowed with welcoming light, still running their Autumn displays, creeping toward American Thanksgiving. The commercialization of Christmas had yet to appear, giving everything a cheerful, colourful cast he found pleasing to his senses. 
Cars moved without hurry, mimicking the people coming and going about their business. Everyone was bundled up, but no one seemed to mind the cold and the snow. To be expected, he supposed. They lived in the mountains where snow fell early and lasted late. 
As his gaze traversed the lane, his attention landed on The Last Book and Brew and caused him to tilt his head, intrigued. Unlike the other traditional storefronts with their brick faces and colourful awnings, gold filigree writing on wooden signs, the little bookstore had a distinctly different feel to it. 
The door, window frames, and brickwork that accented the front of the building were painted a shiny, deep black. There was no awning but three stunning lanterns hung above the windows on wrought iron arms, beautifully curved like the elegant lines of a woman's body. A sign in the same black iron hung perpendicular to the door. Shaped like a shield or some family crest, the words The Last Book and Brew glowed crimson outlined in gold, while a raven of the same black iron sat guard, casting judgement on all who entered. Red velvet mounded in the windows, lovingly cradling the displayed books like sacrificial offerings. 
Someone knew what they were doing, for that was the sexiest storefront Tom had ever seen.
Utterly enchanted and desperate to see if the interior matched the exterior, he left his leather valise unpacked on the bed, pocketed his key, and headed for the door.
Irene looked up as he passed her, but Tom paid the clerk little mind. He was on a mission, a hunt now, needing to discover the answer to the mystery of just who this Ember of Last Book and Brew was that she could create with such aplomb a store so alluring. 
There was no wind when he trotted down the inn's exterior stairs and out into the snowfall. Traffic was light, so he crossed mid-street, avoiding puddles and snowbanks in an attempt to keep the Italian leather of his shoes dry while large flakes of falling snow collected in his dark ginger locks. He reached the door and admired the ornate handle before opening the door into another world. 
Tom stepped inside and stared in amazement. He'd never thought a bookstore could be moody, but this one certainly was. The floors were highly polished ebony wood that led into dark railings which spiralled past the sunken first-floor cafe up a short flight of stairs toward the bookstore beyond. 
He admired the cobblestone floor in the cafe, again shiny with polish, sealed he suspected to make cleanup easier. Upon them sat a virtual Mad Hatter's Tea Party of chairs, all shapes and sizes separated by wrought iron tables topped with glass. And though the chairs were unique in shape, they matched for colour, upholstered as they were in the blood-red and black brocade that turned them into a sexy indulgence he prayed were as comfortable as they looked. 
And hung above it all, like a lady's magnificent fascinator, was a chandelier worthy of the name. Clearly electric, it appeared to drip ropes of black jewels and crystals as long as his palm, lit by three dozen candles that flickered with faux flames. It was spectacular.
Beyond, the cafe counter, like a walnut dream, appeared to be a repurposed and rehabbed saloon bar where elegant scrollwork on a pristine chalkboard announced the daily specials. He could see the cakes and pastries in their glass case, and while his stomach rumbled to remind him of the last meal he'd eaten, Tom was too enthralled with the decadence of the store to allow himself to be led by his nose when a small sign at the foot of the stairs requested no food past that point. 
Another small sign asked him to wipe his feet, which he did without thought, before heading up the short but wide curved stairwell to the second floor into the fantasy world of someone's most magnificent mind. 
He felt guided by the hand of a fae as he wound his way through ebony bookcases over hardwood floors, beneath more hanging lanterns and delicate chandeliers. The soft white of all the lights allowed him to read titles and leaf through pages without feeling as if the overhead lights would eventually dry out his eyes or buzz their annoyance through his brain. Every so often, he came upon stands of lightly scented candles, or soaps, or lotions made with all-natural products and tingling with the lightest touch of were-magic, causing Tom to look at the store with deeper senses. 
The corners and cardinal points of the space had crystal wards, he realized, and the soft pulse of benevolent magic left him at ease. Whoever this Ember was, she bid all who came to her sanctuary welcome. 
Even more intrigued than before, Tom found his way toward the counter where voices spoke in hushed tones, intent on finding the owner and congratulating her on the sensual, slightly erotic nature of her store. It left him breathless in a way that was hard for him to come by, and yet even as it pulled at his dark, seductive nature, he knew a family could come into such a place and find it magical, like falling into the rabbit hole of a dark Alice fantasy.
"That's nice, Lorraine, but I don't think Henry would approve of you gossiping about his friend."
Tom stopped in his tracks. Warm brandy and velvet bled over his senses, stroking straight through him to the soul of his cat. The panther purred and preened, wanting the owner of that voice to pet him and whisper words of seduction in his ear. 
"Poppycock! Some big-city fella isn't going to care if we mountain folk talk about him."
Ugh, raven. He'd know that grating tone anywhere.
"Besides, he's some fancy lawyer or something," the raven, Lorraine, continued. "I'm sure he's used to people talking about him."
"It is still impolite."
Tom shivered, eyes half-lidding. He had to roll his head, stretching his neck to keep from sprouting fur. What he wouldn't give for one night with the owner of that voice. 
Never one to hide in the face of scrutiny, Tom glided out from behind the bookshelf and smiled at the two women. "Actually, I run hotels."
The raven eeped and jumped, spinning to face him. She was older than he'd suspected, her dark hair thoroughly saturated with grey though her eyes remained clear brown orbs. The other, oh, the other, he could not help but stare.
Her face was the kind that would make angels weep with sharp, classic features, high cheekbones and a pointed chin like a sweet little fox. Her big eyes widened in surprise, showing off the shocking green, so pale and light they were almost neon when the light caught them. The heavy fall of thick curls that slipped from her shoulder left his mouth dry with the desire to sink his fingers into the mass that started black at the root and faded into tones of silver and dark grey, hinting at patterns like small rosettes. 
A sleek, lithe body lovingly caressed by a sweater of raspberry wool and leggings of black knit glided out from behind the cash desk, her steps silent in small silver ballet flats. "Mr. Hiddleston?"
"Indeed," he purred, accepting her hand when she offered it. He captured it between both of his rather than shaking it as presented and held it lightly. "Thomas Loki Hiddleston, at your service, love. My friends call me Tom."
"Ember Porosha. Welcome to Salvation and The Last Book and Brew." She tilted her head, causing all that lovely hair to slide to the opposite shoulder. "Henry speaks highly of you."
"Mm," he chuckled, adjusting his grip to lightly press his thumb into the palm of her hand as he brought her knuckles to his lips. "Brags, does he?"
"Terribly," she agreed with a smile.
Tom smirked and pressed his lips to her skin. He inhaled and went rigid. That scent, the sweet smell of pine and snow somehow laced with the delicate notes of summer dreams, drowned him, flooding his lungs until he was sure he would never be able to breathe again without breathing in Ember's delectable fragrance. 
She tried to retrieve her hand. Tom growled, low and deep, more a purr than a reprimand, and opened eyes he knew would glow green with his cat. 
"Well, hello, pet," he smiled. "It seems I was wrong." He wasn't destined to be alone after all.
Sharp claws latched into his hands. "I've no desire to start anything with you, true mate or not."
He dropped her hands and brought his to his mouth to catch the blood seeping from the minor wounds. "We will see about that."
She hissed at him. 
Tom threw his head back and laughed before gliding into her personal space and threading his fingers into her hair. "Spit all you like, little kitten. I always get what I want."
"I think it's time you left, Mr. Hiddleston," Ember growled, her hand on his chest to keep him at bay. 
"Tea first," he smirked. "I'm gagging for a cuppa. Haven't had a decent one all day!" He stroked the silvery strands before letting them fall through his fingers. "Is your coat just as soft, Kitten?"
She glared daggers at him. "Leave."
He chuckled but stepped back, practically able to see her tail flick in anger. "Until later then, Ember."
***
He turned on his heels and sauntered away, leaving her seething behind him. How dare he. How dare he! How dare he assume such liberties when they'd only just met. When it was clear he was only passing through and would leave nothing but devastation in his wake.
"How dare he!" she hissed and stormed toward the back of the store to her office to calm down, forgetting Lorraine was still there.
Ember didn't slam the door, knowing he was still in the store, and she'd be damned before she gave him that much power over her. She would not be brought to heel like some… some… Kitten!
She growled a low sound and clenched her fists, determined to get control of herself and that snow leopard rolling like a damn hussy inside her.
She'd smelt him the moment he'd stepped beyond the books—dark spice and leather, mandarin and rosewood, with notes of cinnamon and vanilla. Ember's mouth watered with the desire to taste his skin and see if he tasted as good as he smelled.
"No," she said firmly. Her cat scoffed. "He won't stay here. He's a big city panther, and we will never go back." She was determined to live alone, be alone because she was safer that way.
Salvation was, well, their salvation. When she was most desperate for a new start and a place to hide from her past, Salvation was there with open arms, and an established were community.
Her cat settled down with the reminder and left her alone to pick up the phone.
Ember dialed the number by heart and waited for them to answer. "Hey, Henry, it's Ember. About tonight. Something has come up… I'm… not going to make it."
Next Chapter
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chefdoeuvre · 3 years
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Under Control
Kelly Severide
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Pairing: Kelly Severide x Sister!Reader
Description: Even when you think you have things under control older brothers always worm their way into helping.
Words: 1,595
Requested: yes by @ticklepete; Okay so can you do a Kelly x Sister where y/n is being seriously threatened by someone who she had a run-in with in the past (like an arsonist or former victim, etc) and of course Kelly's overprotective brother side kicks in. Her being the independent woman she is gets a little annoyed but ultimately is thankful. I feel like #46 and #12 would work with this.
Warnings: mention of minor injuries, blood, fluff as per usual.
A/N: I just love Kelly Severide and his overprotective ways. This can be counted as a stand alone or a part two for Rivalry. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors.
There they were again, flowers sent to the firehouse addressed to you. At first, you thought it was sweet how you had a secret admirer. Now after a month and a half of this you were starting to be fed up with it. Of course, you couldn't throw the flowers away they were too pretty for that, clearly, someone had spent a solid chunk of change to get them for you. Obviously, Kelly offered to tell Jay and get him to find out who they were coming from but being the stubborn Severide you are you declined.
The next shift came by in the blink of an eye and this time instead of a large bouquet of fresh flowers you were simply handed an envelope. The envelope didn't have a return address on it only the firehouse's and your name printed on it. You stuffed the envelope into your locker when the announcement system went off signaling a call. The call was a fairly normal rescue. Thankfully, there was a simple solution to saving the victim and it didn't take long to get them to safety.
After heading back to the firehouse you went back to your locker and pulled out the envelope that's been invading your thoughts since you got it. Ripping it open you unfolded the single piece of paper in it and let your eyes scan the words. Reading over them multiple times you felt a pit in your stomach. It was clear to see that they were threats aimed at you. This only confused you, if this wasn't some secret admirer who the hell was this? The words were generic threats you'd expect from a regular old crime show so that's not what scared you. It was the fact that they went through these lengths just to get your attention. Instead of doing what a rational person would do you stuffed the envelope back into your locker and tried to get your mind off of it.
Making your way out of the locker room you bumped face-first into a hard chest. Immediately two arms reached out and grabbed onto your shoulders to steady you. Looking up with wide eyes you're met with the familiar steel blue ones of your brother.
"Hey, you all right?" Kelly asked as he scanned your facial expression.
"Yeah, I'm fine." You nodded quickly.
You tried to sidestep away from him, but his strong arms kept you planted there. Given the fact that he's your brother, he knew you like the back of his hand and he knew what you were like when something was bothering you.
"No, you're not. Talk to me." Kelly urged as you all but looked him in the eyes.
Sighing you shoved his hands off your shoulder and turned on your heel assuring him that you were fine. In truth, you were far from fine but you'd deal with it your own way. Which was being majorly stubborn about it and completely ignoring the fact that you weren't okay. You made your way into the common room and took a seat in between Herrmann and Mouch who were watching an old movie.
Kelly, being the nosy brother he is took it upon himself to check out your locker. Granted he only knew your combination because it was your birthday and as your brother of course he knew you would use that as the passcode for your phone as well. Pulling open your locker the envelope fell out and he quickly pulled it open. Reading the words across the page he suddenly felt the urge to punch someone.
Soon enough, the announcement system went off signaling a call. Apparently, it was a large abandoned warehouse on fire which meant all of Firehouse 51's help was enlisted.
Pulling up to the scene Boden started giving out directions to each unit. Squad was taking the brunt of the work by checking the building along with some of Truck's help. You and Kelly were paired up to go the furthest into the building, biting back a joke about the sibling power duo the two of you were you headed into the burning building. Kelly stood close beside you with a clenched jaw, still angered by the threats aimed at you.
"We're clear on the West wing." Cruz's voice sounded from your walkies.
"Same on the East." Stella agreed.
"All good on the North wing. South?" Casey asked.
You and Kelly were still making your way through the building about to reply when you heard a shrill scream. Looking up in alarm, the two of you shared a glance before setting toward the sound.
Taking the lead you made your way weaving through the crates to where the sound came from. Another high-pitched sound shocked you into place before you started toward the louder noise again.
"I've been waiting for you." A deep, gravelly voice sounded from behind a large crate.
"We have to go, this place isn't gonna last long." Kelly chided looking between you and the wooden crate.
"That doesn't seem to be in my agenda, Lieutenant Severide." The deep voice tutted.
You and Kelly shared a look of confusion. How the hell did this guy know who he was?
"Oh, allow me to introduce myself." The man all but cackled as he stepped out from behind the crate.
In his hands was a familiar-looking bouquet of flowers. He had a devilish smirk planted on his face and dark eyes that made him look demonic.
"It's Charles, but you can call me Chuck." He greeted with a sickly sweet smile and looked dead at you.
Kelly immediately stood to step in front of you and practically growled at the man.
"Cool it, Kell." You shoved your brother aside with a roll of your eyes.
"All right, Charlie was it?" You crossed your arms nonchalantly, "take your flowers and leave or I promise you I'll let the hound at you." You gestured a hand toward your fuming brother.
Of course, you were naturally sassy, but in times of danger, your sass levels would go up by a hundred. Was this the smartest idea to agitate the guy who lit this place up? No, probably not, but your instincts decided otherwise. The man was rendered speechless, to say the least. He was expecting a sobbing woman not a lady who could even out sass Jay Halstead on a good day.
While the man was a blubbering mess Kelly took the initiative to call it into Boden because of course this had to all go down in a burning building. A few moments later you turned on your heel and began dragging Kelly with you.
"What the hell are you doing?" Kelly berated.
"I'd rather get the hell out of dodge before I turn into a crispy treat." You hissed pulling him toward the exit.
Chuck still stood there trying to mutter out a response when he bolted after the two of you. Pushing Kelly ahead of you, you turned around to see Chuck barreling toward you. Grabbing his wrist in a tight grip you all but dragged him out of the building. Just in time the three of you made it out of the building before a huge explosion erupting out of the ceiling.
Out of the corner of your eyes, you caught sight of the Severide sibling's favorite detective and pulled Chuck along with you.
"I think your package was sent to the wrong building." You shoved Chuck forward as Jay pulled the man's arms behind his back and cuffed him.
"Thanks, Y/N." Jay nodded with a smirk adorning his features.
"Anytime, detective." You flashed a quick smile before heading back to your fellow firefighters.
Letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding you ripped your helmet off and dropped it to the ground.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Kelly placed his hands on your shoulders before pulling you into his arms.
"Oh, come on. That was totally badass." You chuckled.
Kelly stared at you bugged-eyed, tilting his head in confusion.
"Come here, you big teddy bear." You wrapped your arms around Kelly's waist, hugging him tightly.
Locking your hands behind him you pulled back hissing in pain.
"What? What's wrong?" Kelly scanned you for any injuries.
"Damn bouquet had thorns in it. I'm fine though." You scrunched your brows pulling at the thorns embedded in your palm.
"What do you mean you're 'fine'? You're bleeding!" Kelly exclaimed.
"Dude, they're just thorns." You dismissed.
Kelly pushed you toward Gabby and Sylvie wordlessly as you wiped the little bit of blood escaping your hand.
After getting all cleaned up and heading back to the firehouse you went to find Kelly who was hunched over his desk in his bunk room.
"Thank you." You spoke up leaning against the door frame.
Kelly snapped his head toward the sudden voice.
"What?" Kelly asked with a small smirk.
"I said it once, that's it." You crossed your arms with a pout.
Kelly raised his brows and you let out a defeated sigh, "thank you for being my protective brother, even if I don't need you to be." You stepped forward and placed your hands on his shoulders with a small smile.
"It's in the job description." Kelly reached his hand up to ruffle your hair.
"Seriously, how many times do I have to tell you not to touch my hair?" You laughed, pushing his hand away.
"You're gonna be the death of me, I swear." Kelly rolled his eyes playfully.
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bopbopstyles · 4 years
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ELEVATED SURFACES
RATING: R/smut (sex, heavy alcohol use, smoking, lots of cursing)
WORD COUNT: 11.6k
CATEGORIES: fratboy!harry
MASTERLIST (check it out for extras) | INSPO TAG | PLAYLIST 
a/n: as a recently graduated srat girl and lover of a good frat party, this one shot was intended to fill the whole in my heart which is LEGIT frat Harry. he is fratty and hot and long haired and a mess. if u like this try out TEMPTATION which is my other frat!h series and the first thing i ever wrote on this gd website (he’s not as fratty but we love him a LOT)
a/n pt.2: as a note, i want to make very clear that frats and greek organizations frequently harbor predators and abusers. i do not in any way condone that behavior or that reality, and i would like to bring attention to a petition to remove a fraterity that had done truly many horrible things--your signature would be a huge help. for survivors of assault, you are not alone, and it is not your fault. 
As you rose up, your eyes locked on a figure in the doorway of the basement. His long hair was loose, curls that had been pulled out from the hair tie he always had on his wrist, a tight white shirt that you knew meant all of his tattoos were on display. Harry was watching you, you realized as you twisted your hips and bounced your arms up and down with the beat, singing the words. So you kept his gaze, and just to taunt him, when the chorus hit again, you dropped down, ass hitting your heels, eyes on his the whole time.
or
Harry is a very fratty frat boy and Y/N is a really good dancer
pls reblog and share with your friends 💕
“We really should not be still going to our own mixers,” Emily said to you, fluffing her hair and rotating to check her ass in her jeans. You looked up from where you were sitting on your bed, a gin and tonic in one hand to get your blood flowing before the party started. Emily sighed, and then turned from the mirror to you, grabbing the coffee cup that had never seen coffee, just alcohol. “Are people even going?”
You nodded, tossing your phone next to you and leaning against the bed frame. “Alexis is on her way over—she got held up finishing an essay. Maya said she might come, I tried to convince her by promising I’d bring my flask and you’d have your Juul.”
“I swear, she has to just give in and get one of her own.” Emily took a long sip and crossed her arms.
“She claims that will make her addicted.”
Emily rolled her eyes. “She’s already addicted—she uses half my pods and ends up hanging out with whatever guy will let her take a hit. Is it just going to be us and all the new members?”
“No, I think some juniors are going. And definitely the sophomores—they’re all on the little hunt.” You got up, going to your computer to change the song, scrolling through your comprehensive and well-curated pregame playlist. “Plus, who gives a fuck, we’ll only be there for an hour or two for the free alcohol and then we’re hitting the bars.”
“True.” A knock came from the door, and Emily hollered to come in, and Alexis appeared in the doorway, her makeup looking utterly flawless as always. You had always wanted Alexis’s wardrobe and told her constantly, to which Alexis always replied that she wished you were the same size. Unfortunately, Alexis was a solid five inches shorter than you and had a completely different bra size, making sharing quite difficult.  
“Bitches, I brought tequila!” Alexis swung into the room in a cloud of perfume, and threw her arms around you and Emily’s shoulders. “Come on, we need to get tipsy before we get to this mixer. Nick already texted me making sure I was coming.”
“Grab the shot glasses,” You replied, nodding to the makeshift bar cart in the corner, which as laden with glasses of all kinds and all your alcohol. “Are you hooking up with him tonight?”
Alexis shrugged, pulling her tequila from her bag and setting it on your desk before turning and going for the shot glasses. “Probably. I don’t know, he’s been weird lately—we hooked up on Monday night, but then he got all weird and left like immediately after and hasn’t texted me since. Barely acknowledged me when we saw each other in the library.”
“Was the sex weird?” Emily asked, unscrewing the top on the tequila so she could pour.
“Yeah,” Alexis replied, holding the glasses steady while Emily poured. “Like weirdly…intense? I let him come inside me which was probably a stupid idea, but I’m on the IUD so we should be all good. And then I offered to let him stay and he just got all flustered and said he had to go.”
You took your full shot glass, and you all clinked before tossing them back, the alcohol burning on your throat.  You hated tequila shots but Alexis loved them, and you did admit they did their job. “Do you think he’s caught feelings?”
Alexis’s eyes widened. She had been pining after Nick for ages, his tall basketball stature and surprisingly good fashion sense a dime a dozen. Much less, apparently the sex was insane, so what wasn’t to like? “You think? I thought it might’ve not been his vibe.”
Emily grabbed the bottle. “Another?” You all nodded, and she poured again, The Weeknd crooning in the background. “Just see what happens tonight, feel out what his vibe his.”
“Good idea.” You slammed back another shot, hissing before setting down the glass. “Okay, that’s enough tequila or you two are going to be carrying me home tonight.”
Emily and Alexis laughed, before taking seats on your bed, continuing to chatter about the night ahead. It was a Friday, your favorite night because it was usually just mixers, no general parties, which as a senior you had grown to despise. The fighting for watered down alcohol, packed bodies and horrific gender ratio was simply no longer something you had the energy to deal with. Mixers were your preferred zone, filled with your sorority sisters who you adored, the opportunity to actually hang out with the frat brothers whose presence you enjoyed, and usually pong. Sometimes they even let you DJ because you had the best party playlists. The president of Sig Ep had actually asked for the link one time and you’d heard they used it sometimes when the brothers didn’t want to man the computer anymore.
You surveyed your outfit in your narrow mirror, the black denim jeans and simple white tank that showed a bit of stomach and your tan you’d worked hard on during your winter escape to the Caribbean with your lineage. It was simple, yet it suited your needs—after three and a half years of college parties, you had discovered getting dressed up for frat parties was a useless activity, since your clothes would get drenched in jungle juice and sweat anyways. You left your best outfits for Saturday nights spent clubbing downtown.
If you were being honest, the whole reason you were going tonight was because at the last mixer you’d had with Beta, you’d turned around on the dance floor to find Harry’s eyes on you. You were already dancing with another one of the brothers and ended up making out with him in a corner until you got bored, but you hadn’t been able to get the sight of his eyes on you out of your head.
You’d known Harry since freshman year, your interactions limited mostly to mixers and the occasional run-in in the dining halls when you exchanged pleasantries, or the one time he’d volunteered for a karaoke team for your sorority philanthropy event and you’d been in charge of his team. But the two of you had rarely ever spent time together.  That didn’t mean you hadn’t had a lingering crush on him since you’d first laid eyes on him, though, and over the years he’d only gotten more attracted. A body that filled out his white t-shirts and black jeans, hair long and sweeping his shoulders to where he wore it in a bun most times, a jaw that could cut glass. He was hot and he knew it, as did everyone else on campus.
As juniors you had both been on the executive boards of your respective Greek organizations and had ended up in meetings together about housing violations and social calendars, but it hadn’t ever led to much more than you both complaining about how fucking annoying FIJI and their insistent requests for a house was, considering they’d trashed their last one. But this year, you’d found his eyes on you multiple times, and you wondered if perhaps your time had arrived. You’d both always danced around each other and you were curious after all these years if he was finally interested in hooking up. Not that you really expected much more, or were looking for much else—you were a senior, after all, and you were enjoying it.
“Y/N.” Alexis’s voice ripped you from your musings over Harry, her fingers snapping from her spot on your bed. “What’s got you thinking hard over there?”
“Harry?” Emily guessed, one eyebrow raising. “Emmett said he’ll be there tonight.”
“He’s always there,” you replied, because he was. Like you, he seemed to enjoy the mixers, but usually avoided the open parties unless he was on door duty.
“You’d hook up with him, right?”
You looked at Alexis. “Obviously. He’s so fucking hot.”
She laughed, as did Emily. “Then go for it, girl. It’s not like he’ll say no.”
You shrugged. “He might. Never know.”
“I seriously doubt that. You look hot as fuck, as usual, and are the life of the party. Beta adores you. They literally asked you to move in this year when they had an open spot.”
“It was a joke,” you reminded them, because it was—you wouldn’t ever be allowed to live in the house and they knew that. It was true though, you had become a bit of a groupie over the past few years, preferring the more laid back vibe in their house. You’d become friends with all the senior guys, except the weird or obnoxious ones, and had become a regular invite to Bachelor Monday watch parties in their second floor living room. You brought snacks and your friends, they provided the booze and the cable.
“Still,” Emily said, nudging you the toe of her black booties. “Don’t sell yourself short, babes. He is missing a brain if he’s not interested in you.”
“And seriously missing out,” Alexis added. You shot her a look, but she just chuckled. “Bitch, I lived next door to you last year. You are loud.”
“Shut the fuck up,” you said, laughing, but she was right. You were. Guys had told you on countless occasions, but you really couldn’t find it in yourself to care all that much. “Come on, we should go. Maya is texting me asking when we’re leaving.”
“Do you have your cigs?”  Alexis asks you, downing the rest of the drink she’d made while you had been staring into space.
It was your vice, one you had picked up during a semester abroad and only did when you were drunk. You knew you should stop, but something about it made you feel powerful, a bit badass, so you kept doing it. “Obviously. Emmett will have a fit if I don’t.” You swiped your pack from your desk drawer and your trusty pale blue lighter, and shoved them into the pocket of your jacket. With one last swig of your drink, your veins buzzing with alcohol just the right amount, the three of you were off, singing an old Hannah Montana song in the elevator down to the lobby of your dorm.
One of the pledges was working the door, but happily let you three into the frat house. The lights on the main floor were off, except for the ones in the front study that doubled as a coat room, where you tied the arms of your jackets together and set them in the corner so you didn’t lose them. Your cigs were transferred to your back pocket, and you just prayed you didn’t forget they were there and crush them again.  
Josephine and another junior were the sober sisters, and offered you three hugs before checking your names off the list. You got positive points for being there, as if that was the main reason you had shown up.
“Emmett!” Emily called, and the blond-headed boy’s head flipped up from where he was standing behind the bar. A Gatorade water cooler was sitting on the high bar, stacks of red solo cups and boxes of white claws and beers sitting on top of one another.
Aka, your happy place. “He’s bartending, thank god,” you said, and grabbed Emily and Alexis, weaving through the crowd. Girls stopped you all as you moved, hugs and squeals at your appearance. You had to admit, you were popular in your sorority, but mainly because you had made it your mission to get your money worth. As a result of your exec position, you’d gotten to know the sophomore member class and you adored them all, chaotic messes who always turned up with you and made you laugh hysterically. Honestly, you were sad to graduate because it meant leaving behind so many fun friends and memories.
“We’ve been waiting for you three,” Emmett said when you arrived in front of him. He was wearing the frat’s homecoming shirt from the previous year and his eyes were dilated, obvious that he had smoked before. “What are we drinking?”
“What’s the mix?” You asked, pointing to the cooler.
He grabbed three cups, knowing you would be taking it. “Shit ton of vodka, Kool Aid, water, the usual.”
“My favorite,” you replied, blowing him a kiss. “How is it downstairs?”
He filled the cups and handed them to you all. “They just wrapped up pong so it’s still getting moving.”
Alexis took a long sip before grabbing your hand. “Sounds like we need to get people dancing.” With that she turned around, her long slick black hair moving in a circle. “Let’s dance!” She called, and the girls around you cheered, following the three of you down the slippery steps to the basement.
Downstairs, The Motto was playing and you bobbed your head along with the beat, moving your hips as you entered the large basement space. It was dark except for a glowing sign with the Beta letters in narrow neon lights, casting the room with a tint of green. Your battered frat shoes, an old pair of white Vans, stuck against the beer and jungle juice-covered floor as you made your way to the middle. A couple of other girls and brothers were scattered around the floor, and you broke from Emily and Alexis’s hands as you twirled on the floor.  
You raised your cup above your head and started dancing, rapping the lyrics by heart, moving your hands and hips along with the song. Emily and Alexis sang along with you and some of the younger girls showed up, then some other seniors who shared your love for frat parties. All of a sudden your little was screaming and running towards you, Mallory’s arms wrapping around your waist.
“Oh my fuck god, MOM,” she screamed, using the nickname she’d had for you since you’d taken her as your little two years ago. You laughed and threw your arm around her shoulders, screaming the lyrics. There was a specific reason you had taken Mallory as your little, and it was because she lost her shit at parties just as much as you did. You two were a dynamic duo like no other, and if your grand little didn’t have a huge exam on Monday, she’d be here too and you would all be dancing together as usual.
You downed your jungle juice, the sugary drink combined with the loud music blasting and your friends making your adrenaline kick into high gear. And then Maya appeared, arms waving like crazy, and then she dropped it low and you remembered why you adored her, even if she always stole Emily’s Juul. She had a beer in one hand and a white claw in the other, ready for the night ahead.
Then Emmett appeared, trailed by some of the other brothers in tank tops and t-shirts, one carrying a six pack on his shoulder and handing out warm beers to the brothers he passed. Emmett beelined for Emily, his arm thrown around her shoulder, their completely platonic friendship on show for everyone. The song ended and you took a breath, crushing your cup and tossing it into the corner so you could have your hands free. Emily pulled her Juul free and took a hit, passing it to Maya next without a question between them.
The opening notes of Come Get Her started and you immediately grabbed Alexis and Emily, beelining for the bar that the speakers rested on, something you weren’t even sure how it got there, but it was your favorite elevated surface of all time. Wide enough to dance, tall enough to be high but not too high where you couldn’t mostly stand. You clamored up, coming to nearly full height and turning to your friends.
“Somebody come get her, she’s dancing like a stripper!” You screamed, your friends coming in a circle in front of the three of you, some other girls getting up on the bar. When the line came through again, you decided fuck it, and you dropped your ass low, bending your knees and tipping your head back.
When you danced, you didn’t give a single fuck about impressing guys or any of that. You just simply loved to dance with your friends, move your hips, and didn’t care what you looked like. Mallory screamed when you got low, your name falling from her lips in a squeal of joy.
As you rose up, your eyes locked on a figure in the doorway of the basement. His long hair was loose, curls that had been pulled out from the hair tie he always had on his wrist, a tight white shirt that you knew meant all of his tattoos were on display. Harry was watching you, you realized as you twisted your hips and bounced your arms up and down with the beat, singing the words. So you kept his gaze, and just to taunt him, when the chorus hit again, you dropped down, ass hitting your heels, eyes on his the whole time.
That had him moving. He joined a circle where Emmett and some other senior guys were dancing with some other girls, beers in hand as they shifted back and forth. But you knew what would have them all actually dancing and screaming and jumping along with you. You needed to see Harry like that—loose and free. So you turned around and grabbed the attention of the sophomore on aux, his name something along the lines of Justin, and screamed your song choice to him. He gave you a thumbs up, and then you turned back around. Your hair was sticking to the back of your neck, and you rolled it into a loose, high bun, pulling the elastic on your wrist around it as you swayed to the song.
You could hear the song ending, and with your eyes on Harry, you decided you would get down. He was next to a pledge with a six pack, and you wanted a beer. You were mixing alcohols like nobody’s business tonight, but you’d done worse. You squatted down and kicked your feet out, Mallory’s hand coming out to help you down. “You good?” She asked, leaning in to you.
“Yeah, just hot,” you replied. “Going to get a beer.” She nodded and let you go. There wasn’t a need to watch your friends as much in a normal party, since you knew all the girls here. Maya pulled you in for a hug as you moved, and then the current president called out your name from where she stood with her boyfriend, a white claw in her hand.
Squeezing next to Emmett, you nudged the waist of the pledge next to you. “Can I get one?” You asked, pointing to the beers.
“Yeah,” he replied, pulling one from the case and handing it to you. It was a Natty Light, but you really could’ve given fewer fucks—they were a frat after all, they didn’t buy the good stuff.
You popped the tab and took a long swig, the liquid quelling your rough throat from singing. And then, the song changed, and you smiled, eyes meeting Harry’s. You decided you were going to draw him out. “I got hoes, callin’!” You screamed, the song starting the speakers, and the boys all joined in. Fuck it, you thought, and chugged the rest of your beer so that you could jump, your arms outstretched and pumping up and down. Your bun was bouncing on your head and you were grinning, the music flowing through you.
Harry was watching you, his head tapping, hair swishing back and forth. You needed more. So you moved into the center of the circle, knowing the guys would hype you up, and reached for him. “Why aren’t you dancing?” You asked him playfully, and his eyebrow shot up.
“Fuck! Shit! Bitch!” The best lines of the song ran through the speaker and you just grabbed his hand, which was warm, and pulled on him. Suddenly his body was in front of you, close, and you tried to process what your original plan was. But then, Harry started moving, back and forth, head bopping, rapping the lyrics in time, and you knew you had gotten him. “I be ballin’, like a motherfuckin’ pro,” you sang, starting up to jump, and to your surprise, Harry joined you, a carefree expression finally crossing his face. He was screaming the lyrics then, hair bouncing as he moved. He rotated, grabbing the shoulders of another one of the boys, who joined in with him, them screaming the lyrics at each other.
You couldn’t help but laugh, the change in his demeanor so sudden. When the song changed, T-Shirt by Migos coming on, he turned back to you. All of a sudden, his lips were next to your ear and you choked on air. “Fuckin’ love that song,” he said, accent smooth in your ear.
“You and every other frat boy,” you replied, stepping backwards. You had ended up at the side of the circle closer to the wall, and so you moved towards it, freeing yourself from the heavy circle of boys.
The song was slower, not a jumping and dancing song, but one that suggested the slow grinding of hips and closeness of bodies. Which fuck it, you wanted. Desperately. He was looking at you with an intense stare, smile sloppy from alcohol, Harry sweaty on his forehead, arms straining under the fabric of his shirt. He was following you, taking a step away from his friends and following your body as if magnetic. So you just went for it, putting your weight lower, and rolled your hips back and forth to the music.
Mama told me/not to sell work/Seventeen five/same color T-shirt
Your eyes met his, and the shared intensity of his gaze stirred something inside of you. Desire. A need to know what his skin felt like, a desire that had been lingering since you first saw him. Your hands moved on their own, draping over his shoulders, and his hands found the curve of your waist, and suddenly you knew what his skin felt like on yours. They found the bare skin between the hem of your shirt and the top of your jeans, burning your already warm skin.
Justin-something on aux changed the song, deciding that was enough, and then No Role Modelz was on, and you moved, swaying back and forth, your chests coming closer and closer. His face was inches from yours and you wondered what his lips would taste like. The slow rap and smooth feel of the beat had your eyes fluttering shut, mind twirling from the alcohol and the lowlights, the heat of the packed basement. If you didn’t have Harry under your hands, you might have left for a smoke break, an excuse for air. But you weren’t letting go of him anytime soon. So you turned around and when your ass touched his dick you couldn’t help but smile—he was already hard. You felt his arm move and watched him sip his beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he drank. You rolled your hips against him and then reached up, grabbing the can and bringing it to your own lips, taking a sip and watching him watch you. The two of you were taunting each other, acting on a feeling that had always been an undercurrent in every one of your interactions, a slight sexual tension that if you pulled on would become taught.
Which as you pressed against him, you fucking yanked on. His free hand clasped around your hip, holding you close and swaying in time with you. You could feel the sweat that had soaked through his t-shirt a bit, but you didn’t care—you  were sweaty yourself, so was everyone in the room. It was part of the appeal, the fact that everyone was a mess and no one cared. He was rock hard between the denim of both of your jeans, and you could feel the power racing through you, the fact that you had him like this going straight to your head.
When Mr. Brightside came on, you decided that was your smoke break time. You couldn’t stand the song after so many years, and the feeling of bodies pressing together as they jumped was too much for you. “I’m going to get some air,” you said, turning around so you could face Harry.
He was so close to you, just inches away, when his tongue licked over his lip. “Can I come with?”
“Sure.” You grabbed his hand as you moved through the crowd, pushing between frat brothers and your sorority sisters who were all dancing together to the song. When you made it through the exit you sighed, the stale air of the stairwell even feeling better than that room.
“Fuck it was hot in there,” Harry said, your hand dropping from his. He followed you up the stairs and you nodded. You pushed open the door and a Doja Cat song was playing, some people upstairs scattered around, drinking and talking, some sitting on couches together. You waved to Maya, who seemed to have also needed a break, and nodded to the door as if to tell her you were getting some air.
“I’m going to smoke if that’s okay,” you told him as you made your way to the door, pulling your cigs and lighter from your back pocket.
He nodded. “Can I bum one?”
You opened the heavy oak door and said hello to the handful of guys sitting on the steps, who were manning the door and making sure no one random got in. “Sure,” you responded to Harry finally, sitting down on the concrete half wall that lined the landing. You could hear the slight thump of the music, but for the most part it was quiet, the the frat house a couple yards away not throwing anything tonight.
Harry leaned against the wall close to you, taking your offered cigarette. You flicked the lighter and raised it to your cigarette, taking a drag when it lit. Then you handed it to Harry, who accepted it gladly, doing the same. The smoke filled your lungs and your drunken mind considered that you should quit, but at the same time, you liked having something to do when you got air, an excuse to be on the steps. One of the other guys asked for one, and you handed one over, making a new friend.
And then you looked back to Harry. “So,” you said, tapping the ash on your cig. “How have you been?”
You hadn’t seen him since your last mixer with Beta, but you two hadn’t talked in ages. “Good,” he replied. “Busy with classes and stuff.”
“What are you studying again?”
“Political science,” he answered, and your eyebrows shot up. You had expected business or economics, like most of the Beta brothers.
“Why poli sci?”
He shrugged, tapping the ash before taking another drag. “Dunno, really. Took a class freshman year and liked it enough.”
“You don’t want to work in politics or something?”
“I don’t really know what I want to do, honestly.”
“You make it sound like that’s unusual,” you tell him. “Most people don’t.”
He chuckles, a low sound from the back of his throat, and you like the sound of it. “I’ll tell my dad that next time we talk.” You could tell there was a story there, but didn’t push. It wasn’t that kind of moment. “What about you?”
“Psych and pre-law,” you reply, the answer rolling off your tongue with ease.
“Oh? What kind of law?”
You took another drag before answering. “Criminal defense, but I want to work with people on death row.”
His eyes widen, just as you expected. It’s the usual response from people. “Fuck, that’s awesome. What made you interested in it?”
“I just got really into true crime when I was in middle school and ended up doing research on the criminal justice system and what a fucking disaster it is. Death sentences and death row especially. So I want to overturn false convictions.”
He puffed a cloud of smoke, and you watched his lips form a circle, a dark pink color that drew you in. “And you said most people don’t know what they want to do.”
A breeze made the hair on your arm hair stand up, and you rubbed the skin to warm up. It was cold tonight. “I’m unusual,” you told him. “Most of my friends have no idea what they’re doing after graduation.”
You had reached the end of your cigarette, so you dropped it to the ground and stamped it out, the combination of the nicotine and alcohol making your head deliciously hazy. “I’m going back in.”
Harry dropped his cigarette too, putting out the bud. “Lead the way.” He swiped his ID card on the door to let you both in, and you held the door for him, the sound of Post Malone sweeping through the house. “Want another drink?”
You mentally considered how drunk you were, came to the conclusion that you could take some more, and nodded. “White claw, please.” If you laid off the jungle juice you would last a bit longer, and you weren’t particularly wanting to get wasted tonight—you wanted to see where this went.
Harry nodded and walked towards the bar, while you turned to the group of girls closest to you, who were drinking juice and chattering amongst themselves. They immediately started asking you about Harry, about what was happening, and you shrugged because you truly didn’t know. “He’s hot,” one of them, a sophomore named Cat said. “You going to go for it?”
“If the opportunity presents itself,” you replied. You weren’t going to push with Harry, the last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself in front of him. You’d follow his lead, see what he was interested in, matching his flirting and  see where it went. Not to say you weren’t forward, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable either. “What about you guys?”
Cat launched into an in-depth analysis of the weird flirtation she’d been having with a junior guy in Beta, how they’d hooked up once but not again, but he kept looking at her. You encouraged her to go for it if she wanted, and she grinned, perhaps just needing an extra push. All of a sudden, you felt a hand on your back, and Harry was next to you, a Black Cherry white claw in one hand, a Heineken in the other.
“If I’d know there were Heinekens I would’ve had that,” you told him, accepting your white claw.
His hair fell behind his shoulders when he tipped the beer back. “Most girls don’t like beer.”
“Well you’ve met one now.” You liked messing with him, dropping flirtations into the conversation and pushing buttons. It made him smirk at you and you loved it, the twinkle in his eyes and the pinkness of his lips.
“H.” A guy appeared behind Harry. “We’re out of vodka.”
“How are we out?” He asked, taking another sip of his beer.
The guy, a pledge from the looks of him, grimaced. “Someone took one of the bottles.”
“Fuck,” Harry said with a sigh. “Have one of the other pledges go get more and keep the receipt. Get more claws while you’re out, we’re running low.” With that, he turned back to you, exhaling sharply. The boy disappeared, sensing that was his cue.
Right as you were about to speak, you heard the opening notes of I Love It from downstairs, and you turned to the girls around you. “Downstairs,” you told them, and they all tossed back the rest of their drinks before tossing them into the trash can a few paces away. You opened the door to the basement and then looked back to Harry. “Coming?”
That made him move, following you down into the dark stairwell that smelled of stale beer and sweat. He stayed close to you, and when your foot slipped on a stair he reached out to steady you, a hand to your side that made your body warm with more than just the temperature of the room.  The girls in front of you streamed into the room, screaming the lyrics to the song.
“You’re such a fucking hoe/I love it!” You joined in, laughing at the lyrics in spite of yourself, but the truth is you fucking loved the song. It was absurd and was filthy, but you liked screaming the lyrics in a room with a bunch of your friends.
You twirled around and walked into the room backward, moving your body with the beat, taunting Harry to follow you. Which he did, as if connected to you by a magnet. You could see his lips moving, the lyrics falling from his lips to match you. You stopped moving in the middle of the room and Harry’s hands found your hips. Turning in his hands, a coy smile on your face, you knew what this song was going to involve. Hips moved on their own accord, grinding hard against him. You could feel his breath on your neck, the lyrics I’m a sick fuck/I like a quick fuck/I like my dick sucked/I’ll buy you a sick truck in your ear. Hearing the words on his lips for some reason had your blood pumping,  and you wanted to hear them again on a loop.
His dick was hard against your ass and your hands stretched behind you, finding his hips to hold him close. His head fell to your neck, nosing at your skin, his fingers on the bare skin at your waist clenching. Your hips moved in time  with each other, his body dropping to be at the height as yours, chasing the desire that was running between you. Your head tipped back against his chest and eyes fluttered shut, letting the alcohol in your veins and the music pounding in your ears take over. All you could feel was him, the cut of his body and the strength of his arms next to you, his hips insistently rubbing against yours and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to actually grind on him.
The song changed, Work Out by J. Cole sounding through the speakers and you pulled away from him and turned to face him. You were going to put on a bit of a show, you decided, because why the fuck not. It was clear at this point that he wanted you as much as you wanted him, so why pretend like anything else was happening?
So when the lyrics Let me see you get/High then go low/Now, girl won't you drop that thing down to the floor? fell through the speakers you dropped to the ground, Harry’s eyes following you came back up slowly, your body just inches from his. His hands fell on your body, grabbing at your waist to keep you close, pressing his hips forward to grind right over the front of your jeans and you panted from both the heat in the room and the pleasure ripping through your body. When the chorus came again, you dropped down, and this time you ran your hands down his legs lightly as you moved, fingers dancing down and then back up the seams of his jeans.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he said and you could barely hear him over the music.
His eyes met yours, searing into yours, a question passing between you. And then you were moving towards each other, an answer to the question in the way your lips met, slotted together and pulled at one another. Your hands were pulling at his shirt, grabbing at the material and the skin underneath, one of his hand holding your head close to his,  the other at your waist. It was fast and messy, your lip pulling on his bottom one, before chasing him, his tongue brushing at the seam of your lips before dipping inside.
Kissing Harry was hot. It was like setting your whole body on fire with desire and you just wanted to know what the rest of him felt like because his lips were sending you to another planet. He tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth and a moan escaped you, desperation clear in your throat. You could feel bodies press around you, the notes of Fire by Louis the Child ringing through the room. When the beat dropped, you knew people were jumping, the guys doing that thing where they slammed into each other like some kind of mosh. But Harry just stayed there, pulling his lips into yours, drawing wet pants from your body. He was holding tight to you as if you were going to slip away, even though that was the last place you wanted to go.
But you decided you wanted to tease him a bit more. Not let him get away, but just…push him a bit. So you drew away, enough to where you could dance, your sorority sisters at your back—you had seen Alexis move behind you. You grinding on her, your asses touching, and you could hear her laughter, before moving against you. It was something you two always did, dancing partners since the moment you met.
“If I go down in flames/The smoke going to spell my name,” you sang.
Harry watched you, his eyes burning a line down your body, the ministrations of your hips against Alexis’s. And then he was moving towards you, his front pressed yours and his lips were at your ear. “Drink?”
You nodded, and let him pull you through the crowd and towards the stairs. People were moving down them and you pressed yourself to the wall to let them pass, before following Harry up the stairs to the main floor. “Is there anything better than that shit?” You asked him when you stood next to him, his arm loosely around your waist, holding you to him.
His gaze drifted to the bar and then back to you. “I’ve got some stuff in my room.”
You knew he lived in the house, the result of being on exec last year and having first dibs after the current exec board was placed, the hierarchy the same as in your own sorority house. “Do you have mixers?” As much as you drank, you still hated drinking most straight alcohol, especially if you were going to be sipping on it. When he nodded, you replied, “Let’s go.”
You caught the eye of Emily who was standing on the other side of the room, watching you, and you pointed upstairs to tell her where you were going. After she gave you a thumbs up, letting you know she’d check in before leaving, a silent conversation well rehearsed over the years, you followed Harry up the stairs. Other guys and girls streamed down them, coming from rooms where they were smoking or using the bathroom or drinking just like you.
“What floor are you on?”  You asked when you passed the first floor, twisting to go up the second flight.
“Third,” he replied, not pausing no the stairs. “It’s quieter.”
That made sense, as you could imagine if he didn’t feel like partying one night it would be kind of hard to avoid. You followed him up, the sound of the music fading as you made your way higher into the frat house. You passed other girls on the way you exchanged hugs and promises to catch up after chapter on Monday night. Finally, you made it to the third floor, and Harry pushed open the door to a room with his name on it.
You followed him in and the first thing you noticed was how much of a boy’s room it was. Messy comforter, clothes on the floor, alcohol bottles lining the window sill, the frat’s flag above his bed. Some posters and photos littered the opposite wall, a single framed photo of what looked like his family on his dresser, along with some random items like cologne and a brush and hair ties. A pair of athletic shoes and boots were shoved into one corner, and a tub of protein powder sat on top of his mini-fridge, along with a stack of solo cups. On his desk was a bong and a couple of lighters, his computer sitting next to it on a charger. The dorm room was narrow, most of it taken up with a double bed that you were a bit confused by, since most rooms just had a single.  
“Sorry, it’s kind of a mess,” he said, shutting the door behind you. If you focused on it, you could hear nerves in his voice, a low laugh in the back of his throat as he surveyed his room. “Didn’t expect to have people up here.”
“It’s fine,” you told him, moving into the middle of the room to get out of the doorway, taking in the space.
“Uh, I’ve got Tito’s, Jack, some gin one of the guys got me.”
It drew you back to the whole reason you were in his room. He was standing next to his mini-fridge, a solo cup in his hand as he looked at you. “What mixers do you have?”
“Coke, juice, and tonic,” he replied. “Sorry, it’s not much.”
You shook your head. “Tito’s and tonic,” you told him. Usually you would’ve been all over the Jack and coke option, but considering how much you’d already drank the last thing you needed was to mix clear and dark liquors.
You watched him pour, leaning against his desk as you waited. He handed you the cup, asking you to try it and tell him if it was too strong. You took a sip and it was strong, but not too much. Then, he made a whiskey and coke you were jealous of, and the two of you stood in his room, not quite sure what to do. You didn’t want to go back down the party, the feeling of fresh air—even though it smelled vaguely like college boy, a mixture of sweat and cologne that you keenly recognized—feeling good on your skin.
“Want to listen to some music?” He asked, moving towards you. There was a bluetooth speaker on his desk, you realized,  and shifted away so he could get at his computer.  
You decided to sit on the bed, thighs resting on the soft comforter. “Sure.” You pulled your cigarettes and lighter from your back pocket, before looking back at him.
He fiddled with the speaker, the sound of it connecting ricocheting in the small room, before clicking keys to wake up his computer. “Any preferences?”
“I’m good with whatever,” you replied. “I like pretty much everything.” It was true, you had everything from country to Top 40s and rap on your Spotify, a variety of playlists to fit the mood.
He pulled on his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger as he perused his Spotify and you tried not to focus on the sight. Low music began to sound in the room and you immediately recognized the beginning notes of Let Her Go by 6LACK,  a smile drifting onto your face. He must have noticed, because he turned around, his cup in his hand. “You like 6LACK?”
“More like obsessed,” you replied and he chuckled.
He sat on the edge of the desk, his knees falling open, his back slumped a bit. “I don’t know a single girl who even knows who he is.”
You took a sip of your drink before replying, resting your body back on one hand. “They must not have good music taste, then.”
Harry gave you a small smile, an edge of playfulness to it. “Where’s home for you?”
“Denver,” you responded. “You?”
“Holmes Chapel.”
“Where’s that?”
He brushed a hand through his hair, the long locks slipping between his fingers and you couldn’t help but wish you were the one doing it. “South of Manchester. It’s a small town, lots of fields and shit like that.”
You’d never been to England so you had no idea of where Manchester was, but you didn’t ask. “Do you like it?”
He shrugged. “It’s fine. I don’t want to like, move back or anything. But it’s a good place to go home to.”
Denver felt the same way to you—it was home, but it wasn’t a place you saw a future in. You’d go where law school took you, and then the work, wherever you could make the biggest impact. “Where do you want to go?”
The solo cup hung in his hands, and he twirled it a bit, the rim of the cup pressed between his fingers. “LA, maybe. New York. Not sure, really. London, most likely, unless I can get a job and someone to sponsor my Visa so I can stay.”
“Do you like the states?” You knew you were asking a lot of questions, but you’d never had a conversation like this with him and you were curious. Curious about him, about who he was, underneath all the frat shit that he loved so much.
“It’s different than home,” he replied, and you understood what he meant. “I don’t think I’ll want to be here forever, but it’s good for right now. Got friends here now.”
You took another sip of your drink, and then pushed yourself up, the need to pee suddenly overtaking your body. “Where’s the bathroom?”  
“Down the hall. Make sure you slam on the door before locking it—it got fucked up during homecoming and hasn’t been the same ever since.”
You nodded and took your cup with you, four years of college ingraining some lessons into your bones. Down the hall, you found a blond wood door and a doorknob that was barely attached to the door. You pushed it open and shut it quickly, shoving against it with your shoulder so that you could flip the lock. Inside, you wondered for the millionth time why boys were in capable from having a properly stocked bathroom. Head & Shoulders shampoo littered the floor of the shower,  a flimsy shower curtain that had come free from a couple of the rings. You squatted to pee, grabbing the toilet paper roll that sat on top of the toilet, no one even bothering to properly put it away.
As you peed, you scrolled through your phone. Mallory had texted saying she was going bar hopping with some of her friends and you told her to text you if she needed anything and a heart, before checking her on Find My Friends to see she was, in fact at a bar. Then you texted your group chat with Emily and Alexis and Maya, who had asked how you were doing. You told them you were with Harry and most likely going to be here for a while, which got excited responses and Alexis sent the eggplant emoji, which made you snort. They told you to text you if you ended up staying the night so they could keep track of where you were, which you agree to do.
When you went to wash your hands, you rolled your eyes because of course they couldn’t even buy hand soap. You went to the shower and found a bottle of body wash, and squirted some into your hands before going back to the sink, rinsing them off. Then you looked at your face in the mirror, eyeliner and mascara still in tact, but your hair was a disaster. You pulled the bun free and let your hair tumble down your back, running through it with your fingers to calm the strands that were askew.
Standing the mirror, you had the opportunity to consider your choices. Did you want to hook up with Harry? Yes. That was a clear answer, despite your alcohol-hazed mind. Did he want to? Most likely—every indication had pointed towards yes. So your mind was made up as you pulled the door open and made your way back to his room, your phone tucked into your jeans and solo cup in your hand.
“You guys really need soap.”
He was still sitting on the edge of his desk, scrolling through his phone and sipping on his drink when you came into the room. At the sight of you, he put his phone down. “I know—it’s fucking disgusting. I have my own, though. Sorry for not sharing.”
You set your cup on his dresser, deciding you were done, and moved towards him. “It’s fine. I made do.” His eyes trailed down your front, the sexual tension thick in the room. When he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and chewed on it, you decided fuck it you were done waiting.
You crossed the space between the two of you in second, slotting yourself between his knees. His hands found your waist immediately, his solo cup moving to rest on the table once your body was pressed to his. Without pausing, you pressed your lips to his, reconnecting them in a fire—you needed him, you wanted him, you craved his hands on your skin. Now that you were alone, it was like you couldn’t hold yourself together and neither could he. His hands moved up and down your back, tugging you into his chest as your hands curled in his long hair. Lips fought for dominance, teeth tugging and tongues pressing for more. When he licked into your mouth a wet moan left your lips and you pressed into the crotch of his pants without even meaning to.
6LACK was still flowing through the speaker, and the smooth RnB just adding to the desire rolling through your body. When his lips dropped to your neck, sucking and biting on your skin, a desperate, filthy noise fell from your mouth and you couldn’t help but smile when Harry grunted into you. “I—fuck,” he mumbled, squeezing at your hips.
Suddenly your clothes were too warm, burning against your skin. You leaned back and pulled at the hem of your tank top, pulling it up over your head and letting it fall to the floor. Harry’s eyes went wide, blown out irises from alcohol and desire criss-crossing over your body. “You can touch me,” you said, confidence coursing through your veins and just desperate for him to do something.
He didn’t hesitate, pulling you back into him and attaching his mouth to the swell of your breast, right above the lace of your bra. Hot breath on your skin had you keening into him, back arching up into his mouth, your fingers tugging into his hair. You loved his hair, having something to hold onto and anchor yourself, and from the pleased hums he liked it too. His hands fumbled with your bra clasp, and when he got it free and pulled the material away, he pulled your nipple into his mouth and you audibly sighed. When he sucked on it, then laved over it with his tongue you couldn’t help but buck into him. You were putty in his arms and he had barely done anything.
Your hands pulled at his shirt, the desire to see his skin overwhelming you. He didn’t make you wait, helping you tug it over his head, and let it drop to the floor. Black ink scattered across his skin, words and images that made a million questions swirl in your mind. The G on his shoulder, the ship on his bicep, the name Jackson scrawled above a rose, the swallows across his collarbones and a butterfly on his stomach. He sat there, chest heaving as he caught his breath and your fingers brushed his skin, curiosity getting the better of you.
“Y/N,” he rasped, “bed?”
“Yes.” The word fell from your lips with ease, and he was backing you into it immediately, hands in your hair and lips on yours. Your bare chests touching sent you into overdrive, the brush of your nipples on his warm skin, a sheen of sweat covering both of you from dancing all night.
The comforter was plush underneath your back as you scrambled up the length of his bed, his body following yours immediately. Your legs fell apart so he could fit between you, and when he did, his dick rested right against your clothed clit and it made you gasp. “Feel good?” He mumbled, the words a haze in your ears as he plucked your lips between his.
All you could do was buck up, your knees finding either side of him. You wanted to be on top, to be in control. You wanted to grind on him properly, after waiting for so long. With a hand at his chest, you pushed slightly, enough for him to move back. He must have understood what you wanted because he flopped onto the bed next to you, one hand on either of your thighs and you mounted him, your ass sitting on the top of his thighs.
When you moved your center over his dick, both of you groaned, deep and drawn out, your head thrown back in pleasure. It was bliss, after so much waiting, to finally be able to do this, his hands crawling from your thighs to your hips to hold you in place, exactly where he wanted you. You put your hands on his chest to hold yourself up, and let your hips find a sinful rhythm, one that was making pleasure curl in your stomach. Pants left your mouth, matched by Harry, who was watching you as if you were a fucking art exhibit, eyes trying to take in every inch of you. Fingernails curled into his skin, red marks that you expected to be there tomorrow, when he nudged at your clit, and you rubbed that spot a few more times, his name falling from your lips in a beg. “Harry.”
That had him moving, pulling your lips down to his so he could kiss you again, his fingers cradling the back of your head. It was just rough enough where you were scrambling to catch up and it felt good, that this was consuming every part of your brain. You rolled your hips again, your hands pressing into the pillow under his head. Then, you felt his thighs agains your ass, and he was pushing up into you, making him snugly flush against you, the only thing between you two being your clothes.
Which you wanted off, and wanted off now. You moved back, crawling between his legs, and his eyes followed you, panting as he watched you pop the button on his pants. He lifted his hips to help you and you tugged the tight skinny jeans that showed every inch of his thickness underneath them down his legs. Then, you pulled on his briefs, and he was bare in front of you, exactly as you wanted him. Your jeans were constricting your movement so you turned tot he side, pulling the denim off of your body so you were left in your underwear.
Then you were on him again, but this time, it was your hand on his dick, fingers running up the length of him.
“Fuck,” he said, voice husky in your ears. He was gorgeous underneath you, desperation making his eyebrows crease, his long hair a mess on the pillow. Why had you waited so long to act on this desire? You suddenly couldn’t remember.
He watched you spit onto his most sensitive part, and then slide your hand over him, spreading the moisture. He hissed at the feeling and you knew you wouldn’t be able to last long here—he was already hard, his tip red and throbbing. The fact that you had him this turned on and you’d barely done anything made your ego soar, to be honest. You pumped him three times before licking up the underside of him, his hands curling in the comforter, a stream of curses falling from his lips.
When you took him into your mouth, a low, rough grunt filled the room and you smiled. You hollowed your cheeks and immediately took him all the way into your mouth, resisting the urge to gag when he hit the back of your throat. “Shit,” he rasped. “You—shit.”  
You’d done what you were about to give him just a handful of times before, only with people who you knew you would feel pleasure from too when they did it, and trusted. And Harry fit both of those categories, because he could fucking smile and you’d want to fuck him. So you grabbed his hand and placed it on the back of your head, before taking him all the way to the back of your throat. Your mouth was full of him and it felt so good.
“Want me to fuck your mouth?” His eyes were glimmering in the light, completely focused on you. You were happy you had left the lights on, because it meant you could every inch of him, every reaction you drew from him.
In response, you licked at his tip, hoping he knew that meant yes.
He seemed to, because he curled his fingers into your hair and pushed his hips up, his tip hitting your throat immediately. You groaned around his dick and he cursed at the vibrations. Then, he kept his hips on the bed and instead pulled you up and down him, fucking your mouth just as you had wanted. You couldn’t do much from this position, so you focused on inhaling through your nose and running your hands over his skin, scratching at the butterfly on his torso. Leaving reminders of this night, of you, on his body.
“Shit,” he mumbled, pulling you off. “I—I have to stop. But, shit, you feel so good, babe.”
The pet name made you smile, sitting back on your heels to wipe at your mouth, the taste of his salty precum still on your tongue. “Do you have a condom?” You asked, because all that you had done had left you more than ready—you needed him inside of you.
Harry’s eyes went wide and he scrambled up. “Fuck,” he exhaled, grabbing at his desk drawer and pulling it open. Watching him look through his drawers completely naked was, you had to admit, a bit amusing, but you kept your thoughts to yourself. He wrenched another drawer open, tossing the contents about as he looked. Then he sighed, and looked back at you. “I’m out.”
“Go find one,” you told him, leaning back against the wall, letting your knees drop open to show your underwear. You could feel the wet spot on them and you knew he saw it too. “I’ll wait here.”
“Yeah, okay, I’ll—yeah I’ll find one.” He pulled on his jeans, not even bothering with his briefs, eyes flickering to you every once and a while. “Shit, I’ll—I’ll be back.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at how flustered he was, pushing open his door and letting it slam shut behind him. Through the door you could hear him knocking on the door next to his, some muffled words, and then him knocking again. He was going fucking door to door looking for a condom, you realized with amusement. Then, the patter of feet on the stairs, and you knew he was going downstairs, that no one else was in their rooms.
While you waited, you grabbed your phone and scrolled through it. Caught up on texts, liked shit on Instagram, checked Snapchat even though you barely used the app. Most people were at bars, as far as you could tell, but it looked like they’d set back up pong downstairs according to Emily’s story.
All of a sudden, feet pounded on the stairs and you knew it was Harry. You pushed your phone back onto the desk, and when the door opened, he was standing there holding probably ten condoms. “How many did you get?”
He looked down at the wad in his hand and visibly blushed. “I—I thought I’d re-stock.”
You let it slide, even though you knew exactly why he got so many. He was hoping you’d have a couple rounds, and  you were not opposed to the idea. “Come here,” you said, and let your legs fall back open.
He was on you in second, his pants kicked down his legs as he moved and you were surprised he didn’t trip. Hands found your skin and he pushed you up the bed, this time he was the one hovering over you, lips drawing eager mewls from you. You pressed your hips into his unclothed erection and he cursed, a grimace crossing his face that you knew was from him restraining himself. “Can I take these off?” He asked, fingers pulling at your underwear.
“Please,” you replied and that made him smile at you. He peeled them down your legs, tossing them to the ground, a forgotten memory. Then he brushed a finger over your slit and you gasped, cool touch sending waves of pleasure through you. “Need you.” The two words made his head snap up from where he was looking at your pussy, eyes connecting with yours.
“I was going to go down on you,” he said, and although the thought was tantalizing, you needed him inside of you.
You shook your head. “Later.”
Harry wasn’t complaining. He grabbed one of the condoms from his desk and ripped it open, rolling it down his dick with a concentrated gaze. Then, he crawled up your body, reconnecting your lips, and you both sighed at the feeling of his dick rolling against your center. “Okay?” He asked, pulling away just a hair to check in.
“Please,” you begged, and that had him moving immediately.
He tugged one of your legs around his waist, and then he gripped his dick, brushing his tip to your slit once, twice, three times. On the third time, though, he pressed in, and your wetness accepted him immediately, allowing him to push in about halfway before he stopped.
It burned a bit—mainly just from his size, which was bigger than most other guys you’d been with. You hands scrambled across his chest, grabbing at his skin, struggling to get your breathing under control. “You’re big,” you said, unable to stop the words that fell from your lips.
A cocky smile drifted over his face and you mentally kicked yourself for adding to his ego. “Can I move?” He asked though and you nodded. His head bobbed down, and you realized he was watching where you two were connected as he pulled back and then pushed in all the way. A choked moan left your mouth and a similar one sounded from Harry’s, although his had a string of curses attached. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he rasped, hands adjusting so they were next to your head, his face above yours. “Fuck.”
You were about to tell him to move when he did it on his own accord, pulling out and back into you, the impact making your body shift on the comforter. There was a very real possibility of you having sore legs tomorrow, but you really didn’t give a fuck because he felt so good. “Holy shit,” you babbled, those words the only ones you could find as he thrusted in and out of you, finding a rhythm that made you both pant with pleasure.
Sounds drifted out of you without you even realizing, something that always happened when you had drunk sex. You couldn’t control yourself as much, unable to process how loud you were being, what you were saying. Looking back you couldn’t even remember exactly what you had said, but you knew it was a mess of curses and his name and God and just pants and mewls that were feeding Harry like a fucking three course meal.
He loved your sounds, used them to figure out what you liked, where to move and shift. You could tell because when you’d let out a sharp gasp he’d say, “Yeah, there? That’s the spot?” and drive in and out of you, hitting your g-spot perfectly with every move of his hips. Your hands were clutching at his hair as he thrusted into you, your ankles hooked around his lower back, and your body was desperate for release.
But you could also tell he was not going to last. His eyes were heavy, eyelids drawing shut with pleasure, fingers curling in the pillow next to you. Shoulders tensing and abdomen tight as he swiveled his hips, a broken moan falling between you. “Close,” he finally said, and dropped down to his elbows, so his face hovered above yours, only a hair away. “You feel so good, shit, oh my god—how do you feel so good?” His words were broken and that made them even better, that he had no control over what he was saying.
“Want you to come,” you babbled, “want to feel it, come on Harry, come for me, please, I need it.”
“Holy fuck—“ that had him snapping into you, hips slapping against yours, the sound of skin on skin overpowering the music that still played in the background. You gripped his shoulders when his head hung in the crook of your shoulder, and you knew he was about to come.
So you said one more thing. “I need you to come, Harry, please.” The words came out as a beg, exactly as you intended. His hips were stuttering immediately, curses falling between you like a broken record, repeating over and over again as he shot into the condom. He smattered kisses on your shoulder as he collapsed into you, sweat sticking to your skin.
He laid there for a second, panting, and you didn’t mind, even though you desperately needed to come. Perhaps it was how you clamped down on him, or you shifted your hips to feel slightly more of him, but Harry seemed to figure out what you needed. He lifted his head, took one look at you, and then pulled out, ripping off the condom and tossing it into his trash before crawling down your legs.
When his tongue licked your slit, you mewled his name, your hands moving into his hair immediately. You tugged and pulled on it as he licked over you, drawing circles that pulled desire from your flesh. And then he went inside, darting his deftly skilled tongue into you and practically thrusting it into you. His thumb brushed across your nub and you let our a shuddering moan, bucking up into his face. You were close—insanely close—the combination of his tongue inside of you and the thumb on your nub drawing you closer and closer to the edge.
“Harry,” you rasped, voice broken from panting. “I’m close.”
He seemed double his effort, tongue moving in and out of you at double time, his thumb brushing a brutal pace over you. You were twisting in his arms, hips bucking, curses leaving your lips. And when he pulled his thumb away and sucked on your clit, that’s when you came, in a mess of his name and broken gasps, choking on air. Your fingers curled tightly in his hair, anchoring his face to your center as you came, bucking up into him. He didn’t mind though, he just held your hips and took it, licking at you to draw out all of your aftershocks. Your eyes squeezed shut and your mind was a mess, swirling without the ability to grasp onto a single thread of thought, just a mess under his lips.
When you finally regained the ability to breathe, you pulled your hands from his hair and he sat up. You watched in awe as he licked his lips, gathering your juice, and swallowed them, a smile on his face. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re really good at that?”
He gave you a cocky expression and then flopped down next to you. “They have, in fact.”
“Good. I’d be concerned about the other girls if they hadn’t.”
He laughed, and then pulled you into his body. You were surprised at his desire to cuddle, but you weren’t mad. “You can stay if you want. There’s people downstairs still and it’s cold out.”
You propped your head up on his shoulder. “There’s also all those condoms.”
“That’s true. Wouldn’t want them to go to waste.”
You trailed your fingers up his torso. “Might have to just stay the whole weekend if we’re trying to use them all.”
His eyebrows quirked, but he wasn’t mad at the prospect. “Wanna be my study break for the weekend?”
You smirked, leaning up to quickly peck his lips. “As long as you’re mine.”
He hauled your body on top of his and curled his fingers into your hair. “We’ll get your shit in the morning, then.”
“It’s a deal.” You kissed him, lips slotting against one another, slower and less hurried than before, but that same undercurrent of desire stringing between you two. You were already grinding into him, hips brushing over his as you moved.
Suddenly, a pounding sound came from the door, and you froze. “Fuck off!” Harry called, pulling the comforter that had ended up at the bottom of the bed over the two of you.
“Fuck—sorry—I need a condom, man.” The words were muffled, but you heard them all the same.
Harry snorted, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Go ask Nick,” he replied, “and leave me the fuck alone.” His hands grabbed at you, kneading into your ass, and you licked at his nipple.
It was going to be a long weekend.
SEND ME CONCEPTS ABOUT Y/N AND HARRY!
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