#;& it was just such a pleasant way to distract myself

[husbandograveyard]

Part of my 2024 Kinktober - Masterlist here

Prompt: Blindfold Word count: 2500 Reader: No pronouns used, reader has a vagina and breasts, reader gets called babe and dear Cw: Blindfold, fingering, sensory play, some temperature play, some impact play, some biting (nothing too much), ruined orgasm to eventual satisfaction, Gojo is a whore for praise (nothing new), some nipple play, reader has trouble focusing on sex/cumming, spit mentioned once.

[A/n]: this one is LONG (compared to the others in this series) and very self-indulgent. My neurodivergent ass has trouble focusing during the horizontal tango, so I dedicate this fic to myself. For that reason I am also HC'ing the reader as neurodivergent, but you are free to see them however you like <3 I hope you enjoy reading the fic either way, because I had a blast writing it!

It was gone. 

You groaned out in frustration as you felt the perfect buildup towards your orgasm subside, until there was nothing left but sensations that felt neither good or bad, just a feeling. Letting go of the sheets balled up in your fists, you gently placed one hand on top of Gojo’s larger one, making him still his movements completely, pulling out his fingers. 

“Did it happen again?” 

When you nodded in response, he clicked his tongue in annoyance and wiped his hand on the sheets. The annoyance was not directed towards you, it was moreso a shared displeasure, frustration in your stead. He wanted you to feel pleasure, wanted you to cum. Yet somehow your brain wouldn’t allow you to focus unless the stars were aligned perfectly. 

You actually didn’t mind as much. You enjoyed sex, still. You found comfort in the proximity, the intimacy, the love you shared. There was also very little that made you feel as confident and attractive as the great Satoru Gojo practically worshiping you, or having him completely at your mercy every now and then. 

But he didn’t see it that way. Especially because Satoru was so used to being good, no, the best at everything. It was not so much a matter of pride as it was of ego. The fact that he was struggling to make you come felt like an insult to his skills, no matter how many times you had assured him that there was nothing he was doing wrong. It was just your brain providing too many thoughts and distractions, taking you away from the matter at hand. 

Satoru got up from the bed, started to rummage in his closet drawers. You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him curiously. Usually that was not how these situations ended; You’d take some time kissing and cuddling, getting back in the mood before eventually having sex and having another round of cuddles after. It was what you were prepared for, and what you were looking forward to. 

You frowned in confusion, observing Gojo as he finally found what he was looking for, pulling a piece of black fabric out of the drawer with a triumphant grin. You cocked your head to the side, opening your mouth to ask him what this was about, but he interrupted you before you could even start speaking. 

“One of my blindfolds!” 

He looked at you with a huge smile on his face, as if he had just revealed a full-on brilliant plan, and expected you to jump on the hype train with him immediately.

“Are you gonna tie me up?” 

“Of course not, silly”, he chuckled, “I’m gonna blindfold you. One sense less, means one less distraction. I’ll force that brain of yours to focus on just the sensations, on just me. If you can’t see what’s coming, you can’t anticipate it, so you’ll be taken by surprise, and that will hopefully increase your focus.” 

You thought it over, finding that there was very little to argue with his logic. In the best case he was right, and in the worst case, he’d still be taking care of you with pleasant sensations. There was no outcome where you’d lose in this scenario, so you smiled and nodded: 

“Sure. Let’s try it.” 

Satoru climbed onto the bed again, sitting cross-legged next to your naked frame, motioning for you to sit up a little. You did just that, feeling a little bit of excitement bubbling up at the feeling of the soft fabric across your eyes. He leaned in close to tie the blindfold behind your head, an expert at the motions on himself, but fiddling a little now it was on someone else. 

“How’s that?” 

You wiggled your eyebrows, tried to blink and scrunched up your nose, trying to move the blindfold with just your facial expressions. It shifted slightly, but your vision stayed a vague black. 

“Perfect”, you smiled. 

“Lay back down then, I’ll guide you,” Satoru replied, one hand already on your back, guiding you to lay back down onto the bed. You shifted until you were comfortable, fully closing your eyes under the blindfold in anticipation. It was no use trying to peer from underneath it, and it only added to your excitement. 

You felt the weight on the bed shift as Satoru got up, moving away from the bed. You strained your ears, trying to hear where he was going and what he was up to. You couldn’t help but notice that your senses felt just a little different now, now that one of them was blocked off. He hadn’t said what exactly he would do either, which only added to your focus and would undoubtedly add to the surprises that would follow. 

“You remember our safe word, right?” 

Satoru’s voice was across the room, near the doorframe. You frowned. He wasn’t going to play some stupid joke and leave, right? You nodded in response to his question. 

“Use your words, dear.” 

“Yes, I remember”, you sighed, just the slightest hint of annoyance in your voice. What was he up to? Now was not the moment for teasing. The plan was to get you in the mood and focus, but all he was doing now was pushing your curiosity just a little bit too far. 

“Good.” 

It was quiet for a second, and you suddenly felt a little exposed just laying there naked, still not a single touch from Satoru. 

“You’re not going to leave me here, are you?” 

He laughed, a genuine and playful laugh, the sound giving you some tingles. 

“Of course not. But I do want to go get some stuff…” the way he emphasized the last word made you even more suspicious. What the hell was that supposed to mean? You voiced that question out loud. 

“You know, to really make this a true sensory experience?” 

You raised your eyebrows at his tone, not that he could see that. 

“I will be right back. I promise.” 

He did sound more sincere with those final words, in an effort to reassure you that this was definitely not a stupid prank, and you heard his footsteps move down the hallway.  You took a few deep breaths, trying to not let your thoughts wander too much, and instead trying to direct your focus onto yourself, your body and the way you were feeling. 

The room wasn’t too warm nor too cold. You had been sweating a little earlier when you were getting into it, but the sweat had long dried on your skin, making it a little colder to the touch where it had properly cooled down your body temperature. You didn’t feel chilly though, but you knew it wouldn’t be long. You hoped Satoru would hurry up- 

Right as you thought so, you felt the mattress dip again. You gasped, you hadn’t even heard him come back into the room. Had you been so deep in thought? 

Satoru lets out a low whistle, and you can hear him smirking as he speaks: “Damn, babe. I should’ve done this before. You look breathtaking laying there, all helplessly anticipating me” 

You wish you could roll your eyes at him, but at the same time, you’re much too curious about what is to come to truly express any annoyance; in the heart of it all there was praise for you, and you know that’s just what he is seeking too: your praise when he does a good job. You whimpering his name when he makes you feel good. You coming undone for him, by his touches and kisses. No matter how you looked at it, no matter how much it was something he did for you, it was also still a win for him. 

Your train of thought was interrupted again, this time by Satoru lightly grazing the skin of your stomach. Just his fingertips, dancing across the skin, almost tickling, but not even enough for that. The sensation made you shiver, and you felt your brain focus just a little, waiting for more. 

He pressed his fingers down a little, trailing down to your navel, and then up in between your breasts. You noticed his fingers were cold. Not like his usual chilly touch, but almost as if he had put his hands in the freezer-?

You gasped loudly when you felt an ice cube being pressed against your collarbone. The location was wildly different to where Satoru’s fingertips were still tracing your skin, the ice cold sensation sudden and unexpected, nearly shocking your brain into focus. 

Satoru chuckled, removing the ice cube to not make the cold hurt you, rubbing the water that had melted onto your skin, letting it evaporate and leave nothing but goosebumps behind. 

Before you could even say anything, he repeated the motion, ice cube a little lower, right above your breasts, while his other hand was trailing down as well, fingertips now dancing below your navel. You swallowed away a whimper. You weren’t exactly sure how this was feeling, but it wasn’t bad. You were on edge, but ready for pleasure. You were seeking it out. You were- 

-taken off guard when he now shifted fast, retracting the hand on your belly and dipping his head down to lick off the water on your skin now. You couldn’t help but gasp again, and you felt a slight vibration of him chuckling onto your skin. 

Your heartbeat was picking up now, anticipation flooding your veins. There was very little he had done so far, yet these few little movements and sensations had already been successful in getting you on edge in a pleasant way. You wanted to bite your lip, but were stopped in doing so when Satoru pressed his lips to yours, capturing them in a quick, but sloppy kiss. You felt a little saliva drip on your chin when he pulled away again, and before you could whine at the loss of contact, the ice cube -now nearly melted- was pressed to one of your nipples. 

You moaned, the chill hardening your nipple, the feeling only getting better when the last of the ice cube melted and it was just Satoru’s skilled fingers playing with the sensitive bud. You arched your back into his touches, and whined when he stopped them just as suddenly as they started. 

Before you could voice your complaint, he had latched his lips onto the other nipple, sucking hard, before letting go with a wet pop. He then pressed a soft kiss to your breast, and you just felt the way his lips were curled as he did so: he was smirking, enjoying the way you were reacting. He just knew that whatever he did was working. And he was right about it too. 

The whiplash from sensation to sensation, made it unable for your brain to drift off. You couldn’t help but focus as he continued to barrage your body with a mix of soft and less soft touches. A kiss here, a light nibble there. A kiss to your lips while his fingers pinched one of your nipples, a kiss to your stomach before his hand came down on your thigh harshly, following that motion with some soothing rubs, to just move onto another sensation, another spot to lick, to kiss, to slap, to suck, to nibble. 

“Fuck- ‘Toru” 

You were a writhing mess now, very much aware of the slick that has been gathering between your thighs all this time. The sensory experience, almost overload, had your sex throbbing and you wanted to rub your thighs together, desperate for some friction. Satoru had to have noticed it too, but so far he hadn’t really acknowledged it, too busy giving you pleasure literally everywhere but the spot where you needed him the most. 

When he did touch you there, for the first time since you started this ordeal, you almost yelped, a soft brush with one slender finger over your folds was already enough to send electric jolts through your body. You had been so worked up by now that your brain was fully focused, and when Satoru finally slid two fingers into your sopping heat, you locked in even more. You felt every movement, every curl of his fingers, every drag of his fingertips against your sensitive walls. You heard the lewd sounds, wet on wet, mixed into with your own moans and whimpers. You bucked your hips up into his touches, but Satoru kept your hips down with his free hand, leaving you completely at his mercy. 

He changed the angle of his hand just a little so he could rub at your clit as well as keep up the previous motions, and you felt your legs tense up, then twitch. 

“How’s that feel, babe? You gettin’ there?” 

You know he’s gauging the effect he’s having on you, checking in to see if his plan is actually working as well as he’s fishing for praise, as if your satisfied moans and whimpers aren’t enough of a sign that he’s doing a good job. You don’t want to risk losing the momentum now though, now that you’re so very close to getting some sweet release, so you make sure to interject your wordless sounds with praises for how good he’s making you feel and pleas for him to not stop whatever he is doing. And he doesn’t, he keeps on curling his fingers just right, circling your clit with the exact amount of pressure you need. Your praises might be a way of appeasing him and his incorrigible ego, but there was a truth in them too. Whatever he was doing, you were feeling it in every single cell of your body, and you desperately didn’t want him to stop. 

You know he is about to talk again, undoubtedly some smartass remark, but he interrupts himself at the first syllable as your walls clench around his fingers almost rhythmically, and you are almost taken off guard yourself as the pleasure reaches its peak. Your orgasm makes you close your eyes tightly, even under the blindfold, and for once your head seems void of any thoughts except for the ones that you cannot put into words: just a blank mind filled with feelings of pleasure. 

Satoru continues the movement of his fingers just a little longer, slowing down after a while when he notices you’re no longer twitching as hard. He eventually pulls them out of you, and you don’t need to lift the blindfold to know that he is practically beaming with pride. 

“There you go. Told you I’d get you there.” 

You are too busy focusing on breathing normally again, that you can’t even retort, just lifting the blindfold from your eyes instead so you can look at him again. 

“Next time I’ll make you cum twice.” 

He was going to be the death of you. 

[malachitezmeyka]

I haven’t even been home for 24 hours and things already suck

[midascrow]

Alastor x Reader

————

Favoritism Pt.2(1.5)

Part 1

———————————-||————||

Synopsis: Alastor finds himself wondering why exactly he favors you so much

a/n: this is more of a part 1.5 really, as it’s mostly just Alastair’s perspective of what’s going on, but I figured you guys would enjoy this 🍓

———————-<>—————————-<>———-

Fluffy red ears twitched back and fourth, listening to the idle and mindless chatter of the hotel inhabitants.

Alastor couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of mirth at the topic of discussion. While he made no attempts to hide his blatant bias, he hadn’t thought he was quite that obvious.

Though a tiny part of him felt a bit smug, especially at the claim of that empty headed serpent. A kiss?

The idea wasn’t unpleasant but he was unfortunately mistaken.

The two of you had never shared such an intimate gesture, much less in the company of others.

No-, he supposed the closest you had ever gotten was a small bump of the nose to one another’s. It wasn’t an inherently romantic gesture on the radio demons part, more instinctual than anything, but he could suppose there had been a certain layer of affection lined in the action nonetheless.

“What do you suppose they’re talking about Al..?”

His ears twitched forward to fully take in the sound of your candied voice.

Alastor didn’t consider himself a fan of sweet things like candy and cakes. But he always seemed to make an exception when it came to you.

“Hm..~ Seems our dear friends are under the impression that you and I are…an item of sorts.” His smile twitched, inching upwards with amusement when he saw the way your eyes widened, a warmth on your cheeks that roused a small huff of pride from his nose.

“Oh…well that doesn’t..upset you?…right?” Your concern is down right precious. So bothered with his comfort that it makes the fabric of his tail coat shift, just briefly.

“Hmm~…perhaps if it were another sinner who they believed I had such relations with. However because it’s you my dear, I can’t seem to find myself bothered by the idea.”

You were far too naive. (Cute). Your sparkly gaze almost made him angry. Like he wanted to squeeze you till it eased the tight sensation in his chest. Though he wouldn’t dare to act on such an impulse. For fear of losing such pleasant company of course.

But he couldn’t stop himself from teasing you. Just a little. “Infact…I’d say I’m rather flattered by the notion~. To think they see me a fit partner for a gem like you.”

That feeling got subsequently stronger as he watched you bury your face into the crook of your shoulder, a shy, perhaps embarrassed smile painting your lips and making a that shifting of his tail coat return. Like those aforementioned sweets had found their way into his system and subsequently thrown him into a vicious sugar rush. His heart was practically bouncing off the walls of his ribcage, though he hadn't the faintest idea why.

“Alastor…” His name was a garbled whine, swatting at him playfully as you returned to dusting the bannister, distracting yourself as he sidled beside you still, ever attendant while his shadow fluttered around, moving glasses and nicknacks for you to dust off. “Are you going to tell them then..?”

“What ever do you mean?”

Your eyes glanced back, lips pursed. “Well…you are going to tell them we’re not together right?”

Well that sounded unpleasant, and his immediate thought had been an internal grimace. But he pondered the thought for a moment, mindful of the eyes on both your backs as he stepped around the side of you, clawed hands dancing across your shoulder and arm thoughtfully.

“Hmm…~..No.”

He paused, ears twitched backwards as his lips connected gently with the skin of your nose, sweet and lingering as he failed to ignore the twitch of his grin at the gasps that echoed behind.

“No fucking way.”

“I say let them wonder..~”

……

Alastor could admit, even by his standards this was a bit mean.

His “loving” gestures had amped up quite a bit the following week at the hotel.

Lingering touches, thoughtful hand placements, small gestures and sweet words. Nothing explicitly romantic…but there was always something implied in his gaze that perhaps even he himself wasn't aware of.

It wasn’t in an intentional effort to lead you on. He was hardly that cruel. But some part of him…found deep satisfaction in watching your eyes shine and your cheeks darken and become hot.

And that itch had only gotten worse too.

Sometimes it was small. An urge to pinch your cheek which he acted on, mindful of his claws in doing so. His ears always twitched at your disgruntled whines, always tuned to your words and noises. Even unintentionally.

There had been one moment when, your silly little self had gotten caught on that same rug, again. Alastor had been on the other side of the room, but the moment your squeak reached his ears, they swiveled back, and a mass of tentacles lurched up from the ground, gently rolling you onto you greet before disappearing like they had never existed.

And Alastor hadn’t even turned around, still idly chatting with the stunned princess who barely hid her ever widening smile.

Husker seemed the most displeased with his current antics. Always preaching to the others that this was a trick. That he was playing with you. Toying with you.

The radio demon wished that was the case now.

Frankly, he wasn’t sure why he was doing it. He knew he favored you above the others. That was natural. Instinctual. Obvious. And while the others reactions, especially those of the spear wielding ex angel and the gambler were fairly amusing, if that had been the soul purpose it was likely he would’ve grown bored by now. And he would’ve stopped.

But it wasn’t. And he hadn’t.

And it was all becoming a bit overwhelming.

Yet you didn’t question it. Sometimes your brow would raise, at a particularly bold gesture or comment sent your way, and yes your eyes would dart around as if to see who was watching. But you never complained. And if he didn’t know any better, he’d say you were enjoying yourself, if the sweetheart smile that graced your lips after each instance was anything to go off.

So Alastor didn’t feel the need to label what he was experiencing or truly ponder why. He was enjoying himself, as were you. To him, nothing needed to be said.

“So are you two bangin or nah?”

Though he supposed not everyone felt the same.

Taglist: @preciousbabypeter @ouroborostheunholy @chirimeimei @shanksstrawhat @for-hearthand-home @random-3455 @ittoehurt @salutations-demonsanddappers

(Anyone who wanted to be tagged and wasn’t, for whatever reason your blogs weren’t showing up,🍓)

[pushingboi]

The mid afternoon sunlight filters through the window of our bedroom. I keep my eyes shut as I awaken, drinking up every last second of our siesta while I can.

You wake up as I stir, and watch through sleepy half-lidded eyes as I roll over my gravid belly to lay on my back and stretch, taking a deep breath and sighing contentedly.

I kick the blankets down the bed and curiously peel my shirt back over my bump. Inside I feel the lively baby squirm and kick, roiling about as if getting more frustrated about their own inability to stretch out. You reach out and snuggle into me, placing a hand on my belly, and I meet you with a sweet kiss.

I smile and place my hands beside yours, immersing myself in feeling the life roiling inside my womb, nestled safe and warm within my belly.

The baby chills out and stills for a moment, and just then my womb tweaks obviously, startling you awake. "Oh shit, was that a contraction?" You ask.

"Noooo..? Maybe..?" I play puzzled. "Maybe it's just Braxton-hicks?"

I can't fool you and we both know it. You jump up worriedly. "How long have you been having them? Did they just start? How strong are they? That one felt pretty strong.. Are you going into labour? Or already in labour? Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Okay, calm down, calm down." I reassure. "If you want an answer you have to give me a chance to respond." I sigh.

"I've been having contractions for a few hours. They're getting stronger but I don't know how close I am. I'm still fine. They hurt, like, a lot. But not bad enough that I can't nap, right?"

"Shit; we've gotta get you to the hospital!"

"Fuck no. We talked about this already, love, and you don't get to decide to change your mind. No way in hell I'm going to a hospital. I don't need some stranger tying me up and prodding me while I'm trying to have your baby; you can do that just as well yourself, can't you?" I tease.

-

The evening sun shines in through the window of our bedroom. A cool breeze flows through the open screen and over my bare skin, the pleasant sensation a welcome distraction from the pain.

You rub my lower back tenderly as you watch over my labour. I've long since shed my shirt and pants, rejecting the hot and restricting fabric to let the rays of sun bathe my pale skin.

I arch my back as a contraction strikes. I lean into you breathlessly, and let out a very long groan as the ache tears through my body. Halfway though I pant to catch my breath, and then groan again. The contractions are getting longer, and harder, and faster, as they begin to fall into a rhythm, the percussive march that heralds forth the birth.

"Fuck.." I pant. "Fuck, it's so much. I can't.."

You run your fingers through my long hair as you soothe me gently. "You're doing fine. You're almost through this part, and soon you'll be pushing out my baby." I smile a little. You continue teasing. "Yeah? You like the sound of that, don't you? There's only one thing you love more than being this heavy and swollen with my babies; and that's getting to birth them out."

I tremble a little, for some motley reason of anticipation, pain, excitement and exhaustion. Just as the thought crosses my mind that I'm due for another contraction, it rolls in like a slow, long tide, enveloping my senses in the intensity of the pressure and- "Ah! Ah, oh god, oh fuck..! It's coming! Th-the baby's coming!"

I pinch my eyes shut and try not to howl with the brilliant pain. You move beside me and go to feel for my dilation. To your surprise, you meet the head already eagerly descending into my birth canal, waters intact.

"You're right, love, it's time for you to give birth. Are you ready to push?"

"Nnnnoo I'm not! It's- oh god, it's- nnn.. yes! Yes, yes, I'm puuuushinng..!"

"Good boy! Come on, the contraction's still coming. Push!"

It doesn't take much convincing. The urge overtakes me and I bear down, holding my breath and channeling the pressure downwards through my abdomen.

I break and take but a second to breathe before continuing. My face scrunches and my belly tenses, all hands on deck as I toil.

I gasp for air, winded from the effort. "Breathe, breathe, love. Take your time, your body knows what to do."

I lay back and stare at the ceiling, slowing my breathing, and rest, as the contraction has subsided, taking with it the excitement and urge to push. "I hope it's not to big.. I hope it's not stuck.."

"What? I thought you liked it that way. Makes it more interesting, doesn't it?" You wink.

I want so badly to be upset with you, I want so badly not to find that funny, but try as I might to deny it I feel the humour lift some weight from my body and something like a smile tease at the corner of my mouth.

"Is it crowning yet?" I ask.

"You can feel for yourself if you want. But no, not yet. You've still got a ways to go so conserve your strength."

I nod. I lay still for a few more moments and gather my strength. Just as the contraction begins I haul myself upwards into a kneeling position.

I take a few deep breaths and lean forward. "Get ready and push, love!" I steady myself. "Push!"

As I push I feel the difference with the change of position. Gravity starts to do its share, and while it doesn't do much for opening my pelvis, I can feel the movement nonetheless.

I feel the rhythm, finally, as it starts to set in. I rock back and forth and breathe and push, losing myself in the cycle - breathe, rock, push. Breathe, rock, push. Breathe, rock, push. Breathe, rock, push.

The head inches downwards, boring its way through my flesh. As it comes closer and closer to the sensitive opening it feels different, more. It really feels like the erupting force threatens to split me open. I barely notice that as I've pushed I've leaned forward slowly until it's easier to make myself comfortable on all fours.

It's here, watching me strain and sweat, that you realize just how helpless you are. You shuffle around me to get a better look.

I grasp at the sheets, the bed, at my belly, at you, desperate and writhing beneath the intensity. I pant and pant and puuuush, puuuush, PUUSH!

My pussy begins to part as the head encroaches upon it. The intact sac glistens as it appears between my legs. Face into the bed my moans are muffled. You rub my back and comfort me in vain; it's all up to me now to give birth to your baby.

With the next contraction my body tenses. My legs tremble, my breath wavers and I sob through the pain. The sobs curl into a determined wail as i bear down, pressure rippling through my belly and hips. The head continues to squeeze through, stretching into sight bit by bit.

"Here it comes, love. I can see it. Don't stop pushing."

I obey, choking my breath through another contraction. I heave, and push, the head moving so slowly towards the world, gripped firmly within my birth canal.

The contraction lulls, and so does my urge to push, and I'm left with nothing but the awareness of the huge baby's position in my pelvis, filling the space between my hips like nothing I've ever felt. I rock my hips side to side, forward and back, savouring the sweet stretch and the bitter pain threatening to tear down my consciousness.

You look on with pride and.. oh such lust. You can't deny how much it turns you on to see me like this, bent over and stretched open before you, labouring and toiling while I give birth to your baby. The waistband of your pants is all there is between you and ecstasy but you resist thre urge to touch yourself.

The rhythm returns and I whine as I lean into the contraction.

"C'mon baby, push it out for me. Push it out!"

"NNnnnggghh.. I'm... pushing... as hard as I can.."

The head begins to crown, my bulging slit parting around it. As I release the pressure and catch my breath it retreats back inside. "Hah.. hah.. ha.. aaa-hhhhhnnnnnnnnngh...!"

I bear down with all my strength, working through the stinging crown. The supple skin of my cunt grows thin and tight as it clings to the slowly protruding head of our baby.

"It's co-ming! Oh fuck, it's coming out!" I cry.

You've got a pretty sweet view while I push for you. My ass in the air, bearing down while your new baby squeezes into view between my legs.

I sink down into the bed and scream into the pillow, the unquenchable burning of the crown battling the insurgent urge to push. My poor tight, engorged little pussy bulges all around the head.

"It's stretching me open… Oh my god, the head.."

I breathe and pant in desperation, the intensity refusing to quell. All I can think and feel is the baby trying to stretch through my abused opening. "It's burning. It's burning. It's so hard.. I can't.. I have to.. I.."

"You're doing so good babe. Feel my baby stretch open the hole I fucked it into. Breathe and let it open you up."

"I have to push so bad. I have to push this baby out.." I start bearing down again one push at a time. "Fuck, it's so hard! I'm trying so hard to give birth but it won't- GAAAAH!" Suddenly the sac breaks inside me, and a little gush of amniotic fluid trickles forth, but the big head stops the rest of the flow like a stuck cork. "AGHHHHHHHHHHH!" The new change in pressure shifts the baby and my vagina finally starts to span around the bulge. "That's it, babe! Push, pushhh, puuuuush!"

"Nnnngghhh... p.. puuuuuuuush...." I groan. I lean my hips back and shift my knees, opening up for the baby to come out. "puuuuuuuuush...!"

"puush... puuuuush...." I keep narrating myself. The head starts to crown fully, stretching all the way. "I'm giving birth to it.. the head is almost out of me.."

"One big push! Cmon, birth it!"

I hold my breath and force everything into one big push. "Ghhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaa-aaaah-AHHHHHHH! Ahhh ohhhhh, the head..! ahhhh..... ahhhhh..."

All at once the head shears out between my legs, accompanied by a cascade of fluid which gushes onto the bed below me, carrying the head to dangle out of my birth canal.

"Oh my god, it's coming! My baby is- nnnnhh puuuuuuuushh... puuuush..." The urgency is still there, it's not out yet as I feel the whole body stretch my vagina. "I'm fucking pushing..."

The body slides through ever so slowly, from the shoulders all the way to the hips, in one long push, and then suddenly, finally, the legs slip all the way out from inside me and the gurgling baby falls onto the bed between my legs.

"There's my baby, you did it babe! You did such a good job giving birth to it!"

[rotthepoet]

Wait let me correct myself enz and theo threesome but she's really shy 🫠🫠

POOKIE IM SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER I WANTED TO MAKE SURE IT WAS GOOD! MWAH, LOVE YOU!!!

Notes: I don’t think i’ve ever written a threesome before, and its been a long long time since I’ve written downright smut so bear with me🙏

Content: Hogwarts University AU, All characters are 18+, Drinking, drug use, threesome, porn without plot, piv, oral(both m and f), degradation and praising, leaving bruises, hair pulling, kinda choking?? , FEM READER, lmk if i missed anything my loves<3

It was all a blur really. One minute Slytherin was winning their last Quidditch match of the season, the next you were sitting in the corner of the common room deep below the castle as LED’s casted a layer of green over the clouds of smoke and vapor. You weren’t fond of parties. Not in the slightest. You liked keeping to yourself and your select group of friends. Alas, your select group of friends tended to be extroverts who simply… decided… they liked you, and these extroverts tended to like parties. They like you too. So why not combine the both?

So you sit quietly in the corner, laughing and smiling when one of your friends came to check on you, just so they didn’t worry. It’s not like you were completely bored, maybe a few drinks in you started taking candid pictures of your dancing friends, and as you became comfortable with the noise level and crowd, you joined in with them much to their excitement.

The night was a dream, really. Hands all over you, maybe your friends, maybe some strangers. It didn’t matter anymore. You felt good, distracted enough by the alcohol and second hand smoke in your system to let loose.

Theodore Nott and Lorenzo Berkshire were good acquaintances of yours. Maybe even friends if you squinted hard enough. Regardless, it wasn’t too much of a shock whenever you found their hands on yours.

“Never thought we’d see you at a party,” Enzo would say, his breath hot on your ear as he moved slowly behind you, his hands resting on your hips.

Theo would laugh and run his hands up to your waist, looking into your eyes with his bloodshot ones, “It’s a nice change… and you do look good.”

It’s really a blur after that. A drunken blur of groping and soft kisses along your shoulders. The heat just kept building in your lower stomach, and you didn’t argue whenever Theo asked you if you wanted to go to his room.

The idea didn’t even fully click in your head until you were topless on Theodore’s bed, letting Enzo graze his fingers over your perky tits. Stuck between the two men, feeling that pleasant buzz from the liquor and arousal, how could you ever say no?

They’re so gentle with you at first, letting you set the pace and curiously explore their bodies. Enzo’s between your legs long enough to have you seeing stars. His tongue swirls over your clit, his strong hands pressing your legs to your chest. He’s wet and messy, letting your combined slick and spit soak the sheets below you. He’s holding you so tight that it leaves bruises in the morning, and only grips tighter the more you squirm. During all this, Theo is leaving hickies all over your body. Your shoulders, your chest, your sides, hips, thighs, everywhere. He’s stroking his length slowly, teasingly, letting your watch as you whine and squirm as you’re marked. As he makes his way down your body, his deft fingers find your neglected and overly sensitive hole.

Theo is slow. Agonizingly slow. It feels like forever as he’s rubbing his fingers across your cunt, spreading you out for Enzo, laughing softly as you cry for him to finally fuck you. When he pushes his middle finger in, you let out the most delectable sound, and he barely pushes another into you before you cream all over him and Enzo. He fingers you through your orgasm, grinning at Enzo as your whines and cries quicken from the overstimulation.

Unfortunately for your well loved pussy, they’re not done. They’ve been so generous and helpful, the least you could do is take a little but more. Just for them, right sweetheart? And of course, like the little slut you are, you take it like a good girl.

It’s like a switch really. As soon as you nod your pretty little head, your breathing almost steady when they finally release you, you’re gripped by the hair and pulled up.

Enzo’s lips find yours in a messy, searing hot kiss as Theo manhandles you onto your knees. Whoever is gripping your hair doesn’t let up, even as Enzo finally leaves your bruised lips be.

It’s not for long though, not for long at all. As soon as Enzo pulls away, the tip of his cock kisses your lips, smearing his pre along the already wet skin. It’s daunting really, his size looking too big to fit in your tight cunt let alone your mouth. Your head is lifted, forced by a tug of your hair, and Lorenzo can only grin at the worried expression on your cute, fucked out face.

“Our girls a little worried, hm?”

And Theodore laughs behind you, a condescending sound that sends shivers up your spine. “She’ll be fine. Hasn’t broken yet, has she?”

It’s Theo’s tip pushing into you that makes you finally gasp, leaving Enzo to sheathe himself in your wet mouth. Count the seconds, because you only get a few before they’re using you like a fleshlight.

Theodore is ruthless, gripping your hips as he bucks into you like a man in heat, his heavy balls slapping against your clit in a frenzy while he grunts. Each thrust forces you deeper onto Enzo, his own hands gripping your hair to keep you steady.

“Such a pretty thing, isn’t she?”

“Oh yeah, especially like this. You’re having fun, aren’t you, pet?”

And you are having fun. So much fun as Theo reaches new depths inside of you, and Enzo’s cock hits the back of your throat. Tears stream down your cheeks and drool down your chin, dripping to the already drenched mattress. Their thrusts are synched, filling you up at the same time, making you see stars, or maybe it’s Enzo’s freckles. You aren’t sure at this point.

You finish without warning, your walls clenching and spasming around Theodore whose pace stutters at the sudden wave of pleasure, and his hand grips your bulging throat to steady himself.

You sob tears of pure pleasure as Enzo groans, releasing his seed deep down your throat, holding you down at his base while you choke and whine around him.

Theo doesn’t last much longer after that, his grip tightening as much as he could without hurting you, before he pulled out and let his tip spurt onto your back, coating you in sticky, warm release.

Coated in cum, and throughly fucked, you let the remainder of Enzo spill from your lips when he finally pulls away. Slender fingers collect the remnants from your chin, and push themselves into your sore mouth.

“Deep breath, darling. You can do it again, can’t you?”

Tags: @helendeath @lilyravennablack

[thewritetofreespeech]

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: I couldn't help myself and had to do a part ii from Aemond's perspective of his valiant rescue of the reader (part i)

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Aemond was not a man to be easily distracted. Yet more & more these days he had found himself to be just that. Unable to break this curse that was upon him.

The second prince growled and threw his sword away across the training yard. Frustrated at his competition, a word he used very loosely in this scenario, as even their inept fighting could not keep his focus. Some lowly page scurried out to pick up his discarded weapon, seeming lost on what to do with it as the prince stalked off. Ignoring all of them as his sole focus again came back to [Y/N] with no further distraction.

When she first came here, Aemond had paid her no mind. One of his sister’s new girls. Noble. Fine figure. Indistinguishable from the lot. He had not thought to make an impression on her at first as she had made no impression on him. Yet the longer she stayed, attached to his family but still not one of them, he felt his eye drifting over to her.

He could not explain it. Perhaps it was because she paid attention to him. So, few people did these days. His mother clumsily moving the pieces to make Aegon king. Aegon being a louse and all other thoughts consumed with himself. His sister locked in her own head most of the time. The rest were too afraid of him or his ire to even bother with him, apart from training and the very few who sought his advice. And now she had taken that away from him too. Ruined one of his few pleasant past times of training with a sword with her insistent presence in his mind.

Aemond would be angry with her, if she knew. But he wouldn’t tell her. Though bold & fierce in combat, he couldn’t stomach the thought of losing what little standing he had socially by admitting he might feel something for her. He couldn’t risk people laughing at him. Couldn’t risk having her laugh at him.

So, he kept it inside. Balling it up in his chest like the rest of his feelings, to sit there and grow cold or be released blinding hot when a more opportune time was afforded to him.

His paces slowed as he came towards the western wing of the castle and the garden house. Keeping up with his sister and her routine, if for nothing else than to give Helaena company, Aemond knew that she, their mother, and [Y/N] would be playing with flowers that afternoon. He could not think of a duller way to spend an afternoon. So he would not be joining them for a brief appearance under the guise of seeing his family but in reality of catching a glimpse of [Y/N].

He rounded the corner to try and catch her glimpse now instead. Just one and he would be alright for the day. Just one, and he could continue pretending that he didn’t think of her constantly; until tomorrow when he needed another glance again. This curse an addiction on his soul.

From the shadows Aemond peaked out in hopes of not being noticed. His eye widened when he saw her. Seeing his brother cornered [Y/N] as she struggled to get away from him. That malicious laugh of Aegon’s that haunted his nightmares echoing off the glass on the walls.

When his brother’s hand bashed against [Y/N]’s face on accident, Aemond sprung into action before even realizing it. Grabbing his brother by the collar and throwing him away like the trash he was behaving as.

“What the hells Aemond?!” Aegon spat at him. Like he was scolding his little brother.

Aemond just scoffed with a sneer. What right did he have to scold him when he was behaving this way? What right did he have to tell anyone anything when he was nothing but wasted potential?

“This is how you chose to spend your time, brother.” He knew that Aegon could only half understand him. Drunk and waning off their mother tongue. He was a disgrace to the name Targaryen. “Did not our mother already have this conversation with you? About a future king’s place being on a throne for his subjects, instead of sticking his ‘sword’ wherever he pleases?” Aegon hissed back at him when he kicked a little at his shoe. Aemond doesn’t want to admit how good it felt to have him literally under heel, but Gods did it feel good. “Get Out, Aegon. Before I tell her and everyone else about what just happened.”

The elder looked fit to bite him, but instead, like always, Aegon left in a huff and went to take his rage out on others. He made sure not to take his eye off him as he left. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. As well as can be expected.”

Aemond then turned to look at [Y/N] as she righted herself. He felt disgusted at the way his brother carried on, but more disgusted at himself for how her disheveled appearance affected him. “Thank you…for helping me…”

“Hmm..it was nothing.” Truly. It wasn’t. With how much taller he was than Aegon now it took very little to pull him off his feet. The hardest part was how much of a deadweight he became when he was drinking.

“I should…talk to her grace….”

“No. Don’t do that.” Aemond didn’t mean to snap at her, but the thought of her telling his mother led him to bite as well. He knew if she talked to their mother, ‘Noble Queen Alicent’ would just send [Y/N] away. Aemond couldn’t bear that. He couldn’t sacrifice another thing for the sake of Aegon’s worthless honor and claim to the throne. “Do not say anything. Just leave it be.”

“But if Aegon tells—“He isn’t going to tell anyone.” He interjected. “He wouldn’t want people to know that he was beaten by a girl and his little brother.” His better brother, more like.

[Y/N] seemed unsure of herself. Understandably. If the situations were reversed, he would assume that the other was doing it to protect their side from scrutiny, instead of protecting him. Only she didn’t know how much he hated his brother and family sometimes. Or how much he wanted to protect her. “You would really stand against your brother on this?”

She looked up at him with those eyes. Those gorgeous eyes. Aemond had often wished for his second eye back, but in this moment he only wished for it back so he could look upon her face in full spectrum. But even with his one eye he could see how beautiful she was, even with the blood beaded up on her lip. He felt his own begin to boil. He was going to kill Aegon one of these days.

“I’ve stood against my brother for less important things.” Without thinking, which was rare for him, Aemond removed his glove and brushed the ruby specks on his lower lip away. Instinct to make that beautiful face anew. He realized too late what he was doing, but also that she didn’t shy away or look scared. She looked…hopeful. But maybe that was his own maginations projecting into her eyes. “You should get cleaned up. Before anyone sees you.”

The hopeful look in her eyes vanished (or maybe it was never there) as she realized she was supposed to meet with his mother & sister shortly. “But…if I change, I’ll be late. Her grace cannot abide lateness.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Aemond offered immediately. Surely, he could distract his mother for a meager 10 minutes to buy her time. And Helaena had no sense for time at all. “Go.”

[Y/N] looked at him fervently, like she wanted to say something but couldn’t, before she slipped past him and headed for the door. “Aemond,” she called once she reached it, turning back towards him in a way that made his nails bite in his hand to keep still, “I…thank you again.” That look in her eye. That hitch in her breath as she paused. He wasn’t imagining it, was he? Then she was gone.

The prince took a deep breath to calm himself and lifted his hand to inspect it. Crescents gnawed into the flesh, but it would heal. His eye then flickered to his thumb. Still red with her rubies. He stared at it for a long time before he lifted the digit to his mouth and tasted it. Gods how he was disgusted himself, but oh why did everything about her have to be so sweet?

Hands clean, though not his mind, Aemond put his glove back on and went to cut his mother off at her pass for a distraction. Again, surely he could manage 10 minutes of conversation with her to buy [Y/N] time. 8….at least….

[emolastim]

🎀Hi there. I wanted to write something like teachers pet. I hope there will be no problem in applying "I" as the subject again. I did not specify age. I left it entirely to the reader's imagination. So please don't be offended. I may make mistakes, I apologize for that. enjoy reading🎀

Prof. Alhaitham x yn. smut // 3.2k words

This time I really messed up. Falling asleep during the exam, my low grades, and my disgrace in the oral exam were all separate problems for me. My grades last semester weren't very good. I started this period hoping that I would make up for it all. Of course, nothing went as I expected. I am someone who curses my luck every day. I say I'm used to it now, but getting used to it doesn't work, the only solution is to fix it. If only I could fix it...

While I was lost in dark thoughts about my grades, the break bell rang for lunch. I was so overwhelmed with classes that I wanted to throw myself out into the garden as soon as possible. Of course, it seemed like this request of mine would have to wait a while. Just as I was about to leave the classroom, Professor Alhaitham, our mathematics teacher, called me to his office. It's not hard to understand why, I think he was going to call my parents to tell them about my grades or scold me for my disgraceful performance in the oral exam.

When Professor Alhaitham left the classroom, I followed him. Instead of running away, I decided to face my fate. I had nowhere to escape anyway. I had to serve my punishment.

We were in front of the professor's room. He opened the door and entered. I followed him in and he locked the door behind him. I think he locked it to avoid being disturbed.

I was trying to look brave, but I was scared to death. Professor Alhaitham sat down in his own swivel chair. He arranged the documents on the table. It looked like he was taking care of business. I was still thinking about those who would be standing tall in front of the door.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I was startled by Professor Alhaitham's voice. He told me to sit down. So I sat on the seat I found empty. My legs were shaking. I hated being scolded. This might be the only thing I can never get used to, even though I experience it very often.

Thinking that I would go crazy if I thought about it any longer, I threw my thoughts aside and decided to look around. Professor Alhaitham's room was filled with books, just like a library. I would have loved to hold the books in my hand and examine them instead of looking at them from a distance, but I felt like if I did anything other than what I was told, what would happen would not be very pleasant. That's why I continued to look around from where I sat.

Books, books, more books... The professor must really love reading. There were times when he read books even during classes. Frankly, even when he spoke, it was immediately obvious from the way he spoke that he was someone who read a lot of books.

I stopped looking at the books and with a sudden courage began to look at Professor Alhaitham. He seemed too focused on his job. Even though his hair was slightly messy, he looked tidy. The top buttons of his shirt were open, so even if they were closed, his big breasts were visible when he was dressed. If I had stayed under the professor's huge body, I would have been guaranteed to suffocate to death between his big breasts. Ups, I polluted my mind while trying to distract myself from stress. Luckily no one can read minds here so I'll keep my peace of mind.

While I was thinking like this, our eyes suddenly met with the professor. He caught me looking at him. I involuntarily stopped breathing and stared at him, frozen. With a dirty mind, I will always be a source of shame. Nobody hears, nobody knows. I'm the only one who knows the truth in this dirty mind. But the real problem is that I know. I am not someone who can suddenly act normal when I know, am aware and do it. Either pretend you didn't do it or don't do it at all. It shouldn't be this hard. But still... Why doesn't the professor say a word?

I think he opened his lips to speak. Don't tell me about your mind reading power. Say anything, even scold me, but don't read my mind. I am a stupid, useless being. Insult me, hate me, but please don't read my mind. All my thoughts stopped when Professor Alhaitham called out to me.

"Your grades are terrible, not to mention your performance in the oral exam. You're not much different from last year. In that case, I'll have to call your parents, but I'll try another method."

My thoughts returned. What kind of method did you have in mind? Should I have been more afraid? I was relieved that he wouldn't call my family, but I still couldn't help but be afraid.

"I'm thinking of giving you private lessons."

Was he seriously talking about giving private lessons? Why would he do me such a favor? Oh my god, did you take pity on me? Thanks thanks!

"I must also get your approval first. Do you want me to give you private lessons?"

"Yes, I would love to."

I answered without thinking. No need to think, I was quite determined this time. I will improve my grades by taking private lessons from Professor Alhaitham. Thank you God, thank you Professor Alhaitham.

"Okay, then I'll give you private lessons. Come here."

As soon as he called me, I stood up with excitement and quickly went to the professor. While he was sitting in his chair, he turned towards me and showed me the paper on his desk.

"See this? You'll figure these out, and if you don't, I'll punish you."

"Punishment?"

"Yes, punishment."

"So what kind of punishment?"

He grabbed my arm and pulled me towards him. He whispered into my ear with his hot breath.

"This is the kind of punishment you deserve."

I didn't fully understand. While I was looking at the professor with blank eyes, he must have understood that I could not understand and felt the need to explain to me.

"A punishment for every question you fail to solve. The type of punishment is a bit perverse. I don't know if you want to know, but all you have to do is make a mistake to see."

I looked at the paper full of questions in front of me. I was determined to take private lessons. As for the idea of punishment, I can say I liked it. If I had been punished for every mistake I've ever made, I wouldn't be in this situation right now. That's why I would endure the punishment no matter what.

"Can you give me a pen?"

"So you're starting right away, good."

He gave me the pen lying nearby. He was just looking at me. I took my eyes off the professor and turned to the first question on the paper. It was a logical question, but it was hard to focus because Professor Alhaitham's eyes were on me. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't manage to solve the question.

"I couldn't do it"

Professor Alhaitham, looking at me with his eyes, extended his hand towards me and unbuttoned the top button of my shirt in one go.

"Move on to the next question."

The professor's fingers were wandering around my opened button, occasionally going up to my neck and sliding back down to the same place. I moved on to the next question and I had a hard time with it because I didn't know the formula of the question. Of course, I couldn't answer this question either.

"I couldn't do that either."

Professor Alhaitham's fingers undid the bottom two buttons. While I was looking at the other question, he was touching my breast, which was visible through the open part of my shirt. I didn't hold back from asking for more and said I couldn't do it without even looking at the other question.

Professor Alhaitham unbuttoned the remaining buttons and moved his hand towards my neck. Then he pushed the shirt off my shoulder and made it fall to the floor. All I had left was my bra on top.

Professor Alhaitham's hands reached behind me. While I was looking at the other question, he unclasped my bra, dropped it to the floor with one move, and released my breasts.

"That's too difficult a question for you to do. Move on to the next one."

The professor's hands were slowly moving down, touching every part of my upper body, from my shoulder to my neck, from my neck to my breast.

I moved on to the next question, but I was having a really hard time focusing in this situation. Before I even said anything, the professor must have realized that I couldn't answer this question either, because he moved his hand down and caressed my hip.

"Try some more, we have plenty of time."

The questions seemed harder than ever. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't do it. I was just starting to focus when my skirt fell to the floor and my attention was again directed to the professor's hand.

He continued to caress my hips, his fingers occasionally moving in and out of the edge of my panties. The professor's long fingers... I was filled with the desire to take them inside me. I wanted him to touch every part of me, I wanted there to be no part of me that he didn't touch.

While I was lost in dirty thoughts, the professor's fingers were directed towards my lower part. I moaned slightly as he started to caress me through my panties.

"The math questions I prepared couldn't have made you this wet."

"It's not because of the problem anyway..."

"So you're thinking about other things when you should be thinking about questions. I need to punish you."

Nothing came out of my mouth other than light moans. While he continued to caress me, he occasionally put his fingers through my panties and either caressed my clitoris or made fun of me by touching my hole.

"Move on to the next question."

I was so distracted that I even forgot what I was here for. I no longer cared about the questions, my grades, or the private lesson. My only wish right now was to rub myself somewhere, against something, and satisfy myself. Even rubbing wouldn't be enough, but at least I could handle my current situation or want more.

When Professor Alhaitham saw that I could not answer this question, he pulled my panties from the edge and let them fall to the floor. I was completely naked. The professor continued to make fun of my hole. The only difference from before was that his skin was touching mine.

The professor motioned for me to move on to the next question. I was looking at the question with blank eyes while biting my lower lip and moaning. The professor did stay in his swivel chair and approached me and was now standing behind me. My back was turned to him, so he couldn't see the aroused expression on my face, and even if he didn't, he was aware that I was in such a state from the moaning sounds I made. I was soaked, how could he not have noticed?

He pulled me towards him and made me sit on his lap. He put his fingers inside me and started playing with me. I was quite wet, so even though his fingers were long and thick, he had no difficulty inserting them. The pleasure of her fingers made me want more. He reached towards my breast from behind with his free hand and squeezed it hard and started playing with the tip.

Every time he inserted his fingers I wanted more. I crumpled up the paper in front of me and threw it aside. Unable to hold it back any longer, I started moaning the professor's name, wanting his dick.

As Professor Alhaitham pressed me against himself while fucking me with his fingers, I suddenly felt the hardness behind me. I couldn't stop myself from wanting him inside me and I would do anything for that.

I moaned as I felt my future and ejaculated on the professor's fingers. The moment he took them out of me, I took advantage of the opportunity and turned towards the professor and captured his lips. Since his fingers were covered with my juices, he could touch me with one hand while I touched him as I wanted.

While I was kissing him, I was moving my hands around his neck. I fumbled with his tie and untied it, throwing it aside without even looking. We took a break from our deep and passionate kiss and I started unbuttoning his shirt.

"Look at this. A naughty girl got my hands dirty so I don't know if I can continue."

I ignored Professor Alhaitham's sarcastic attitude and opened all the buttons until the end. I was looking at him naked with his big breasts and on top of that I couldn't take my eyes off his abdominal muscles. This man's body was dazzling and mouth-wateringly attractive.

Somehow I managed to take my eyes off his body. I held his hand, which he had soiled with me, and started to lick his fingers clean. While I was licking his fingers one by one, I was looking at him and I thought that the fact that I was licking him affected him enough to make his grin.

I cleaned it completely and separated my lips from his fingers and moved towards his body again.

"Well done, good girl. Maybe I should reward you later."

Somehow I took off his shirt and I couldn't take my lustful eyes off him while his upper body was completely naked. My hands automatically directed to the lower part. I felt very hungry for him. The professor must have noticed my gaze because he did not hold back and continued to pay attention to me. While I was unbuckling his belt, he was caressing my breasts, squeezing and pulling the tips.

I unbuckled his belt and left it on the table so that it would be handy in case I needed it later. When I turned towards the same direction again, I couldn't help but grin as his erection was visible under his trousers, and I got more impatient and headed towards his zipper. I was just opening it when the professor spoke and I had to stop.

"Look at her, you ruined my pants, what a dirty girl."

When I looked down, I saw that my wetness was smeared on Professor Alhaitham's trousers. I didn't notice until the professor mentioned it, but I didn't mind anyway. I pressed myself against the professor's leg and started rubbing.

"I will make it up to you, sir."

He was already making fun of me so there was no problem. He started to caress my hair and I started to continue my work from where I left off. As soon as I opened the zipper, the professor suddenly took me in his arms and stood up. He laid me down on the table and quickly got rid of his clothes. While he was undressing, I was trying to understand what was happening, when a second shock surprised me. His big and erect cock was standing right in front of me. No wonder it was so big when it was visible even under his pants, but I was still speechless at its size.

As he got closer to me, I thought that I would soon experience the greatest pleasure I could ever experience in my life. While he was rubbing his big tool against my pussy, he was spanking my breasts and sucking them at the same time. He bit me occasionally while sucking, which made me moan louder.

He stopped playing with my breasts and focused his attention entirely on my lower half. I could feel him at my entrance. He was slowly entering my hole, making me beg for him to fill me with it.

No matter how wet I was, it hurt as he entered me. I think he understood from my voice that it hurt so he stopped, or so I really thought. He put his hands on my waist and pulled me towards him, and without waiting, he quickly entered me and managed to put it all inside me. The pain was great, but when he started moving, the pain turned into pleasure.

When I took it all in, it was moving slowly, but suddenly it accelerated again. This man always does unexpected things suddenly. He was so fast I thought he was going to tear me apart.

As we moved, the things on the table fell to the floor, and as Professor Alhaitham accelerated, the whole room was filled with my moaning sounds. While his big dick was filling me, the professor was enjoying fucking my hot and tight pussy.

He leaned over me and I was literally about to choke to death under his big breasts. In one way or another. I couldn't stop thinking that I would die by being strangled or fucked by this man. Still, this was pleasant for me.

I started to enjoy being crushed under him and tried to hold on by hugging him and digging my nails into his back. Even though it was hard and painful, it all turned into pleasure.

He buried his face in my neck and sucked there, leaving a mark. Then he came closer to my ear and breathed through his lips, moaning my name. When he was close to cumming, he went faster and he started moaning loudly too. The professor's moaning caused me to rise even more and we reached the end and ejaculated together.

Even after Professor Alhaitham ejaculated, he did not take his cock out of me. We were both out of breath. First our hot breaths then our lips met and we kissed passionately. Every time his tongue hit mine, my heart's rhythm was disrupted, and even though we had reached the end, he could still excite me.

We separated from each other and the professor put his hand on my head and started caressing my hair. While we were looking at each other without saying anything, I came to my senses when I heard the ringing of the bell. Lunch break was over and I couldn't solve a single question during the private lesson. I looked around and took the professor's belt from the table.

"It makes me sad that we don't have time to use it."

The professor laughed at what I said and looked at me with a grin without saying anything. Even though I didn't understand what he was thinking, I didn't say anything. Since I had to go to class, I decided to get up and get dressed, but I felt too tired to get up. Fortunately, Professor Alhaitham is an understanding person, so I guess I should be thankful.

"You can stay here. Don't worry, you won't be marked absent during attendance."

I had no choice but to trust the professor, so I decided to stay here, believing his word.

"Of course, you have to deserve it first."

I didn't understand anything he said. He grabbed my hand, which was holding the belt, and held my chin with his free hand, making me look at him.

"We have time to use it now. You must reciprocate."

[writingsfromhome]

Things to Learn II

A/N: I kind of love writing these characters? tsm for the love on the original I’m glad I got to dive back into their story again. I’m starting a taglist so if you’d like to be on it give me a shout :)

Part 1 / 2 / 3 /

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Harry rushes out of the toilets so he doesn’t miss the opening scene and nearly crashes into someone standing around the corner.

“Sorry!” He says as he tries to rush on by.

“Harry!?” The person calls his name.

He stops in his tracks and takes a look at who he just bumped into. And of course, it would be her.

“YN,” he swallows the lump forming in his throat. “Hi-uh what are you doing here?”

“Watching a movie?” She raises a brow. Still the same attitude as before.

“Oh! Right. Yeah. Me too-“

“Which movie are you here for?”

“The Planet of the Apes reruns,” Harry points to the door he so badly wants to walk through. As much as he wanted to stand here and talk to YN, have her attention all to himself, he wanted to watch the movie he came here for more.

“Well I’m here for that new romcom but Raina ditched me to go to that riverbank bonfire bullshit everyone’s talking about. But I hate smelling like campfire afterwards plus I already bought popcorn-“

“Didn’t that movie start 15 minutes ago?” Harry notices she’s standing in front of the poster. Why was she hovering outside?

“Well yeah because I’m wondering if I should be the loser inside watching a romcom by herself.”

Harry doesn’t know if he should be offended—he regularly watched movies by himself during the summer when he had nothing else to do. But then he realizes YN and her opinions weren’t something he took offence to ever since he put down his intellectually superior flag.

“Well I’m here with Caleb if you want to-“

“Bloody hell I was waiting for you to get the hint,” she brushes past Harry and he trails behind, confused.

“You wanted to watch Planet of the Apes?”

“No! I just didn’t want to watch a movie by myself. And you were supposed to invite me.”

“Oh,” these were the social rules Harry often missed. It was sort of nice having YN spell it out for him. “You could have just said-“

“Shh,” she shushes him as they enter the theatre.

Harry was pleased at the way Caleb’s eyes bugged out of his head at the sight of YN.

“I thought you were going to the toilet?” He whispers loudly.

“I was but she-“ Harry cuts off as someone in front turns around with a dirty look. The movie hadn’t even started.

YN sits beside Harry and begins snacking on her popcorn. She hogs the armrest and he lets her, and when she pulls out her sweets and offers it to Harry and his friend they end up swapping most of their snacks. Despite being distracted at first he has a really fun time with the two of them.

Outside in the lobby after the movie is done, YN hesitates after throwing out her trash. It looks like she was wondering if she should stick around or not.

“Thanks,” she finally tells Harry. “Let’s not do this again though.”

“You joined us,” Harry reminds her. She eyes both him and Caleb.

“Yeah, exactly?” She says with a hand on her hip.

“I’m j’saying we weren’t the ones ditched here,” Harry says before he could stop himself. Her pleasant expression falls and Harry can see Caleb concentrate on something far away. Coward.

“Firstly I was invited to join the party but like I said I don’t like smelling like campfire. Secondly, just cuz I told you I was ditched doesn’t make you-“

“Um, I gotta go.” Caleb pipes in from behind. Both Harry and YN turn to him and he almost shrinks. “My ride is here um…”

“See ya later,” Harry cups his hand and Caleb bolts out faster than a cat seeing a dog.

“You were saying?” Harry turns back to YN.

“Look,” she points to the other theatre, the one she’d been standing in front of when Harry bumped into her. “The next showing starts in a bit.”

Harry stares, trying to figure out what she was asking.

“We could watch it?”

“I thought we shouldn’t do this again?”

“Shut up,” she starts walking away.

“Isn’t this illegal?” Harry catches up to her. “I don’t even want to watch this movie.”

“Actually you do,” she grabs his arm and pulls him up the stairs even though he’s following her anyway. Harry tries not to focus on the exact part of his arm she’s touching but it feels warmer than usual. “And secondly nobody is going to kick us out. It doesn’t even matter, do something illegal once in a while.”

Harry follows along with her and they end up having a lot more fun at the second movie. He actually finds it funny and it reminds him of watching these during the holidays with his sister and mum. YN leans her head on his shoulder during an emotional scene and Harry feels like he’s made of clay until she takes it off and laughs at the next scene.

“You had fun, admit it!” YN says as they walk out of the theatre. It was close to midnight now and Harry was planning on walking home.

“Maybe!” Harry doesn’t.

“Liar,” she skips ahead of him. “Secretly you thought my romcom was a lot cooler than your Ape movie.”

“Planet of the Apes, and you enjoyed that one.”

“I’m not denying it,” she shrugs. “C’mon I know you’ve got a sister don’t you watch romcoms with her?”

Harry seems disturbed by the idea, “Not that sort. We watch holiday ones during Christmas but-“

“Oh my god like the Holiday?”

“Yeah I’ve seen that a billion times. And there’s one with Keira Knightley-“

“Oh I bet there is,” she nudges him and Harry blushes. “She does seem your type.”

“Yeah and you probably love Jude Law in The Holiday.”

“Well yeah he’s alright,” she pouts her mouth and doesn’t finish her sentence.

“No way,” Harry laughs. “It’s not Jude Law.”

“You know who’s peng? Tom Hardy. There’s a man I’d watch in a romcom over and over.”

“What?” Harry didn’t know who that was but now he was curious.

“Yeah. You should look him up. Anyway, my ride’s gonna be here any minute so I’m staying here.”

“Oh. Yeah right.” Harry thought they were walking home together but she stays near the closest bus shelter. “Well bye.”

“Bye,” she waves him off.

He doesn’t think he’d see her again that summer. But the next morning she sends him a text saying it was fun and he should come over some time to broaden his romcom education. He thinks she’s joking but the following Tuesday she shows up at his house with DVDs and Percys and although Harry’s mum is surprised to see a girl friend at the house, she orders them pizza and his family gives him the den all to themselves.

After watching two movies back to back and feeling sick from all the junk they’ve consumed they lay on the floor. As evening falls through the wispy curtains of his front window Harry asks YN about her summer and uni. She’s cagey and likes to turn questions around on him but it’s nice talking to her like that with most of her guard down. It almost feels like they’re friends.

***

YN shows up at Harry’s house after dinner. His butt is glued down on his sofa ready to settle into a night of playing video games but the ringing at the door interrupts him.

“Harry!” His sister calls out from somewhere. He was closest to the door and on his way there he peeks through the curtains of the den to see a familiar head of hair. In a cap.

“Hey!” She walks right in.

“Hey…” Harry looks at her get-up: a tanktop and gauzy skirt paired with the trainers she always wore.

“Oh YN,” Harry’s mum pokes her head down from the staircase. “You haven’t been around in a while how are things?”

“Hi Mrs. Styles.” YN was always the perfect angel in front of his parents but his mum was right, it had been a couple weeks since she came by. “I’m good! I’ve been working a few shifts at the shop I do summers at. I had the day off I’m trying to convince Harry to come out with me.”

She was, Harry thought. And she had a summer job?

He’s reminded that no matter how much closer they got, she was always somewhat of a mystery.

“Oh where are you heading out?” Harry’s mum walks down a few steps and sits down.

“There’s a get-together of some of our school friends. Harry never shows up to these things so-“

“Harry,” his mum joins in. “You should go!”

“I never even said no, jeez!” Harry grows flustered.

“But he was totally going to,” YN says to his mum. She laughs and Harry feels peer-pressured.

“Fine! I’ll go.”

“Well be safe,” his mum gets back up. “Make good decisions.”

Harry glares at YN when his mum clears the area and she smiles sweetly back at him.

“Oops.”

“For the record I don’t want to go.”

“Exactly,” she smiles. “Now where’s your room we need to put you in something better than that.”

He was in very comfortable sweatpants and a tee. By the time he was leaving he was in was a short sleeved button-up layered over the same tee and shorts he didn’t even know he owned. She’d forced him to take his glasses off and wear contacts then ruffled his hear with gel and she’d been so close every one of Harry’s senses had been hyper-tuned to her. YN had been oblivious.

“I can’t find my phone,” Harry pats his pockets down as they go downstairs.

“Just leave without it! We’re gonna be late!”

“Can you just call it?” Harry’s halfway up the steps. “I can’t leave without it.”

YN rolls her eyes and calls it. It rings from the den and she walks towards it.

“Seriously?” She walks back out. “You never changed my name?”

Future Prime Minister YN with a heart. It had stayed the same since their group project.

“I guess not,” Harry suddenly feels even more self conscious.

“You can keep the heart,” she goes into his contacts after holding his phone up to his face.

“Hey I never said you could go in!”

“Shush!” She smirks as she updates her name. “There.”

“You don’t want to change the photo?” Harry asks and sighs at her new name: HRH 💖

“No time. Let’s go!” She pushes him out the door.

“I’m going I’m going!” Harry closes the door behind him and they set off down the road.

“You’re so lucky your mum’s so chill,” YN says as they walk.

“Where are we going?” Harry asks.

“My mum thinks I’m at Raina’s watching movies or some shite. Your mum actually like, encouraged you to go out. She didn’t even give you a curfew.”

“Well I never do this,” Harry replies. “What is this anyway.”

“Another bonfire-“

“Does Raina do those like every week?” Harry remembered something about this that night they bumped into each other at the cinema.

“No,” YN says, offended that he would criticize her friend in any way. “The guy she’s seeing right now knows a guy. They do them like a couple times a month. If they did it every week don’t you think someone would catch on?”

Harry shrugs.

“Anyway, you have a decent closet why do you always dress so…boring?”

“I don’t dress boring,” Harry shoves his hand into his pockets. “I’m just comfortable.”

“I’m comfortable,” she points out.

Harry eyes her outfit again, she looked nice and her legs looked particularly nice in the skirt. Harry looks up in the silence he’d just created to find YN staring at him with a raised brow.

“Had a good look?” She punches his arm.

“Ow,” Harry rubs his arm but he deserved it. He’d been oggling. But ever since she’d gotten into his face to run her gelled fingers through his hair, and the cloud of her shampoo or perfume whatever it was closed in around him he’s having a hard time not glancing at her every opportunity.

“Have you got anyone you’re seeing?” Harry asks.

“Nope,” she pops her p. “With uni starting I didn’t really want to let a guy distract me and fuck with my feelings.”

“Wow,” it slips out of Harry’s mouth.

“What?” She narrows her eyes. “And we’re going right here.”

They turn the corner and she asks Harry again what his reaction meant.

“Nothing. I’m just surprised you’re not having a summer fling or something.”

“God Harry, do you think I just date boys to get off or something? I’ve barely had a boyfriend-“

She cuts herself off.

“What?” Harry missed what happened.

“Nothing.”

“Aw c’mon you can’t say ‘nothing’ now,” Harry pushes. After knowing YN this long, she was still scary, but he’d learned where and how to poke at her to get more answers without getting his head bitten off. “You’ve dated plenty of guys.”

“For someone with his nose in a book all the time you claim to know a lot about who I’m dating.”

“It’s hard not to miss what everyone’s talking about.”

“So you believe all the rumours? In that case it’s probably true you cried your first time.”

“What?!” Harry flushes. “Who said that?”

“But rumours are true right?”

“Fine. You just always had one of the football blokes nearby I just-“

“So you just thought I dated the whole team?”

Fuck, Harry realizes he’d screwed up when she starts to speed walk away. He’d spoken before thinking about what it might sound like from her end.

She starts to walk ahead and Harry fastens his pace to catch up. He reaches out and clasps her shoulder. “YN wait I’m sorry. I didn’t think-“

“Whatever,” she brushes his hand off.

He felt awful. He tries again, grabbing her arm this time and she comes to a stop.

“I’m sorry!” He says again. “Just forget I said anything.”

He’s surprised to see her teary eyes when she turns to him.

“What?” She snaps. “Never seen a girl cry before?”

“No I just—I didn’t mean to make you cry-“

“Oh you didn’t make my cry don’t worry,” she huffs. “I just hate how everyone in school always judges me based on their own fucking insecurities.”

Harry pauses, it was true. And he knew YN was only as cutting as she was so she could be taken seriously—so nobody would walk all over her just because she was a girl. He shouldn’t have made that comment, he knew that. He knew better but apparently he still had things to learn.

“I shouldn’t have judged you like that,” Harry mumbles. “I knew better.”

Her mouth parts slightly, YN wasn’t expecting Harry to say a combination of words that actually sounded better than an apology. She forgives him, but she doesn’t let him know.

“Well…you can make it up to me.” YN threads her arm through Harry’s. At first he doesn’t quite know what to do—despite their budding friendship YN rarely showed any affection or even friendliness in public. This was different.

“How? That sounds a bit sinister.”

“You’re going to get drunk with me. I’ve never seen you drunk before, and I want to be able to have embarrassing pictures of you to use next time you make me upset.”

“No way!” Harry unthreads his hand, regretting the decision a little.

“So you’re just gonna go to a party and watch everyone else drink? Your mum would be disappointed!”

“Trust me my mum doesn’t want me to get drunk,” Harry corrects her. “And I don’t drink for a reason. It really doesn’t take much to get tipsy.”

“Really?” YN eyes him. “But you’re tall.”

Harry shrugs, suddenly his heart thuds in his chest as he catches sight of the smoke of the bonfire. This was real—he was actually going to a class party with YN as his company. He had no friends there. This wasn’t his scene. What was he thinking?

“Have we got to do-“

“We’re going,” YN takes his hand and drags it the rest of the way. “We’re going to uni next year and you’re not going to be a party virgin.”

“I’ve been to parties!”

“What? D&D parties?” YN snorts. “You’re going to an outdoor party with drinks and getting drunk. I want you to let loose. Show everyone Harry the nerd is kind of funny?”

“Kind of?” Harry tugs her hand back. “You snorted at my jokes a couple weeks ago.”

YN looks back at him and Harry’s breath is momentarily caught in his throat. The light of the bonfire reflects in her eyes that crinkle at the corners as she looks at him. She has an amused smile fixed on her face. She’s relaxed completely, unguarded.

He wanted more of that, he realizes.

“Oi it’s about time!” Someone notices YN and waves her down. Harry’s forced to follow. “Brought a date did you?”

“Not my date,” YN rolls her eyes.

The group, amongst whom most had been in a lot of his classes, simply stare at him expecting a name or something. Blimey, he realizes nobody recognized him. YN did a good job with her makeover.

“Good,” one particular bloke—tall with a shaggy overgrown mop of hair peels away from the group and slides his arm around YN. She distances herself in one languid move and continues on.

“Are you lot alright?” YN asks. “It’s Harry?”

“Hey Harry,” a few of them say with a removed friendliness. They still couldn’t place him. Harry would have been offended if this wasn’t the last summer he would see them all.

“Okay?” YN turns to Harry with her eyebrow raised and a joke in her eyes like they were on the ins of something together. It warms Harry’s chest with a gentle ease.

“Harry,” shaggy-hair says. “How d’you two know each other?”

“I’m gonna show Har to the drinks,” YN continues ignoring the guy. Harry’s dying to know who that is. “Anyone seen Raina?”

“She was over there a little while ago,” someone motions towards the fire.

This satisfies YN enough. She turns, “Drinks

“Yeah,” Harry feels lighter being here knowing nobody really recognized him. Like he could be anyone. Maybe he was getting a taste of what being at uni would feel like. He liked it.

He asks YN who that guy was when they get enough distance.

“Oh him? We went out a few times, hooked up at a couple parties. He seems to think that means I want him around at any given moment but he’s a bit clingy.”

A bit was an understatement but Harry stays quiet.

“He looks old.”

She laughs, “Yeah maybe cause he’s 21?”

“What’s he doing with a bunch of teens?” Harry asks, puzzled.

“Oh Har,” YN pats his shoulder and laughs. “Let’s get you a drink.”

“Just one drink,” Harry insists.

But after downing the disgustingly hoppy beer YN hands him Harry starts to feel even better being here. Nobody recognizes him, he has YN keeping him company (after she goes to Raina for a bit and comes back grumbling about her new boyfriend), and the energy at the party starts to really take off as someone turns on a playlist and people really start to mingle.

“So you excited about uni?” YN asks. They’re both sitting on a large rock. Yn has her knees tucked into her and her cheek rests on top. She seemed down after coming back from Raina.

“Yeah!” Harry says. “Finally get some bloody freedom, away from this place.”

“This place?” She slides her cheek across her knees to look at him. She looks beautiful, Harry thinks, before sliding his eyes away. It was still hard for him to maintain eye contact with her despite all the evenings they spent together.

“School. These people.”

“Hey they didn’t even recognize you today,” she chuckles. “I did a good job.”

She reached out and brushes one of his curls. Harry inadvertently leans in closer to her.

“I look the exact same,” Harry scoffs.

“No without those big ass glasses you actually look different.”

“Call me Clark Kent then.”

“Clark Kent.”

Harry looks at YN with an are-you-serious expression and she laughs.

“I didn’t actually mean to call me Clark-“

“I know,” she says softly. “I’m trying to annoy you.”

“That’s not hard to do.”

“Hey!” She punches him lightly. “That’s mean. You’re mean when you’re drinking.”

“No I’m not,” was he? He was just being himself here.

“No…you’re not,” she agrees. “But you’re honest. Anyway, you’re living on campus right? That’s lucky.”

“Why don’t you?” Harry asks.

“I can’t,” YN turns her face away again. “I’ve got to stay at home. Things are…complicated. So I’ve just got to commute.”

“Do you think we’ll hang out at uni?” Harry asks and then flushes as he realizes he said it out loud.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t we?”

Harry shrugs. “We don’t exactly run in the same circles.”

“Look at us now,” she leans into him, nudging his shoulder, and the warmth of her pressed into him is a balm to his melancholy. “We’re not gonna have the same labels in uni. Nobody knows us. We just get to be ourselves.”

“I hope so.” Harry says. “Should I get another drink?”

“Really?” YN sits up. “You want another?”

“Yeah!” Harry suddenly feels energized. “Why fucking not?!”

“Alright!” She hops off and he follows. “You also swear a lot more when you drink. It’s funny.”

“Sorry,” Harry apologizes immediately.

“Don’t be, I like it.” She says and Harry’s heart skips a beat. He floats the rest of the way to the drinks.

He downs half of another beer before he’s recruited to do a keg stand. He’s pretty sure it’s YN’s pretty-boy that jostles him into that crowd. He’d never done one before and YN tries to pull him away but tipsy and brave he gets instructions and allows two strangers to hold him up while he drinks what feels like the equivalent to the Thames.

The boys standing around cheer him on when he stands back up with the longest time out of everyone tonight. If he was anything, Harry was a winner. And he feels powerful: he’s actually seen and celebrated tonight for doing something as stupid as a keg stand. Why didn’t he do this more in school?

“Make way for the goat!” One of the guys shouts.

“You’re all wankers!” Harry shouts. “I just owned you all!”

“Harry,” YN’s hand clasps his and while he shouts celebrations back to the guys he’s dragged away by her.

“It’s Harry right?” A girl he’s never seen before stops YN on her trek to get him far away from the drinks. “I’m Marva.”

“Marva!” Harry pulls his hand from YN and shakes Marva’s. “Nice to meet you…Mara.”

“Yeah nice to meet you,” she smiles. “You’ve got really nice eyes.”

“Thank you Mara. You have really nice teeth.”

“Fucking hell,” YN mutters then louder she says, “Sorry Marva we gotta go. Maybe you can catch up with-“

“Okay I just wanna say that was sick what you did,” Marva points to the keg.

“I’m king of the keg,” Harry says and YN mumbles something to the side but Harry’s too swept in winning, in getting attention from this beautiful girl, to hear.

“Yeah, uhm could I get your number?”

“Uh,” Harry tries to remember his number but it doesn’t come to him. He should remember his number. Why isn’t it coming to him?

“Or I could give you mine?” She says after Harry stands there silently for an uncomfortable minute.

“Yeah,” Harry hands his phone over but his mind keep trying to push through the slosh to remember his number. Soon enough he’s walking away with YN again. “Why is my number? It’s a set of numbers…”

He’s mumbling, an anxious feeling creeping up his chest as he tries to remember.

“Hey,” YN finally allows him to stop. She senses the panic rising in him and lays a hand on his chest. The buzzing stops immediately. “Harry look at me.”

Harry looks down at YN, she was one of the most beautiful women he’s ever seen. He wishes he could hold her face for eternity. He would live in peace.

“Hello?” She snaps her fingers. “You’re not blinking are you alright?”

“Probably not!” Harry laughs. “I just got hit on by a gorgeous girl did you see that?”

“Yes,” she rolls her eyes. “She was impressed by your ability to drink upside down. What a catch.”

“I am a catch,” Harry motions to the water behind them. “I’m a fish in the sea.”

“Oh my god,” YN laughs. “You’re ridiculous is what you are. That’s a river I thought you were smart.”

“I’m cool now.”

She brushes his hair again, “give a nerd a new hair style,” she drags her hands over his eyes, “put him in contacts,” she continues tracing her hand down his face to his chest, “put him in new clothes-“

She cuts herself off when Harry grasps her hand against his chest. He was sure she could feel his heart racing inside.

They stare silently at each other, the darkness cushioning them on either side until it feels like they’re the only two beings in the night. Like they’re drifting in the dark, tethered only by hands and gazes.

Harry tilts forward, YN doesn’t move back. So he closes the distance and presses his lips to hers, they’re as soft as he imagined. They’re the best lips he’s ever kissed.

Maybe he imagines it, maybe it was a drunk fantasy, but for a brief second she presses her lips against his; she closes her eyes and kisses him back.

The next second, she’s shoving him backwards and scrambling away. Her look of shock and betrayal cuts right through the fog in his brain.

“What the fuck?” She shouts. “Did-did you just fucking kiss me?”

“I’m sorry!” Harry feels his heart in his throat, why did he think she would ever want to kiss him? She was YN, he was just Harry. “I don’t-I’m not I-“

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She wipes the back of her hand against her mouth, adding assault to injury. “Why would you do that?!”

“YN,” Harry stumbles forward but she peddles backward. It’s another punch added, almost deflating him entirely. “I didn’t mean—I’m drunk I’m sorry-“

“Being drunk isn’t a fucking excuse,” she spits.

“I know! I’m sorry!”

“Goddamnit! You’re just like every other asshole of a guy. I thought we were friends! But of course you get drunk and try to kiss me-“

“It’s not like that!” Harry tries to tell her. He was just braver drunk but he’s been in love with her a long time. After hanging out this whole summer he just thought they had a moment there. He read the signs wrong; apparently a bookworm could read wrong.

Maybe he would never be good at this whole people thing.

“Then what?” YN seethes. “Then why the hell—why did you try to kiss me Harry? You don’t even like me why would you kiss me?!”

“I…” he doesn’t know what to say. Of course he liked her. He more than liked her; YN changed his life and he’s starting to like who she makes him be.

But nothing will make this situation better. And the worst part is he feels her slip away, right through his fingers. It’s like one of those jelly toys from when he was a kid; the harder he gripped the easier it slipped away.

“Get fucked Harry,” YN swears. She turns and leaves. She leaves him and he doesn’t think she’ll ever come back.

When the rush of adrenaline subsides Harry empties the contents of his stomach. With his head swimming he picks himself up and finds his way out. With a final glance at the party he’d just felt king of, he spots YN tucked into the body of shaggy-hair and his stomach turns. Why did he ever think she’d want him? Girls like her didn’t end up with guys like him. Why did he ever come to this stupid party in the first place and get drunk? This wasn’t him. Uni or not, maybe he was never meant to change all that much.

***

Harry looks around his half of the dorm he’s just finished putting together with a proud smile. At last the day had come, he had successfully escaped the shackles of school and all its taunting and made it to the uni of his choice. Despite only being a 1.5 hour train ride from home Harry chose to get the full uni experience and live on campus. His life was going to change, he could feel it.

That is, until his roommate walked in.

Messy hair, backwards baseball cap, crewneck and baggy jeans and massive headphones on. Harry already types him in his mind—how the hell did the dorm board pair the two of them together?

“Aw marra,” he holds his hand out sideways and Harry clasps his hand and lets his body gets tugged into his roommate’s bony shoulder. “Harry right?”

“Yeah,” Harry tries to find his balance again. “Roderick?”

“Just Rod yeah,” Roderick throw his duffel bag onto the bed and points behind him. “Give me a hand with the other bags?”

Harry wasn’t much for lifting heavy things but he didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with someone he’d be living with the next year. So he goes.

“When did you get here?” He asks.

“Last night,” Harry wanted to get in before everyone else and avoid the crowds of people. He knew it would be a good way to meet others and make friends—his sister told him the first week was when you made most of them, but he did what we wanted.

Rod barely hears him as they get the last of his bags. “It was packed to shite trying to get in here. Where’d you come in from?”

“London,” Harry answers.

“And you’re staying here? On campus?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to do the commute everyday. Felt like a waste of time.”

“Yeah that’d be crazy.” His roommate agrees.

“What about you?” Harry remembers to ask.

“Sunlun,” he replies. Harry hadn’t heard of it, and reminds himself to look it up later. “I was right ready to lose it driving here. My mam drove me-“

“Oh is she around?” Harry asks.

“No,” Rod laughs. “I’m not starting school trailing after her. But I promised her I’d have a meal with her after moving my—hey you should come!”

Harry has a hard time keeping up with Roderick, despite having longer legs than him he walks as fast as he talks and he talks with an accent that takes a minute to filter through for understanding.

“I couldn’t-“

“No you’re coming,” Rod claps Harry on the back. “She would love seeing that my roommate’s someone like you.”

Someone like you, what did that mean? But on some level Harry knows just by comparing Roderick’s outfit and Harry’s slacks and spotless crewneck.

Harry has no choice but he gets a free meal out of it. Roderick’s mum is sweet and by the end of the meal he understands his roommate a lot better, knows everything about where he’s from—Sunderland, and is invited to “drop by for tea” anytime he’s up north.

Roderick invites Harry to a get-together for first years happening somewhere off campus but Harry feels sensed out and tells him he was calling it a night. Rod looks disappointed but leaves without him. Harry almost feels disappointed in himself. He was supposed to have a different life being in uni, but he didn’t want to make old mistakes and try to be someone he wasn’t.

***

Freshers week is both invigorating and exhausting for Harry as he tries to navigate all of the personalities and social groups without falling back into his usual ways. He attends the talks and the tours, one in which he meets Mikey who was also planning on joining debate club. Harry goes to mixers and breaks so much ice he’s sure he could get a part time job as an ice sculptor.

Harry also attends the workshops and he meets a few more friends there, but mostly when he signs up for clubs he’s interested and goes to their mixers he finds people he clicks with very easily. He doesn’t spot Rod once or anyone else he would have known from school.

On Thursday Harry heads to Newsroom Society Club which was a fancy title for the uni’s reporting club. He has a few new friends he’s made, Florence from one of the workshops and Gabriel who lived in the same hall as Harry as well as Mikey. They were all interested in being part of reporting—the newspaper or the podcast.

Harry stumbles into a projector when he spots her.

“You alright?” Gabriel grabs Harry’s jacket to hold him steady. All eyes are on him as the slideshow on the wall tips off balance and he’s bright as a tomato.

“Yeah I didn’t see that there,” Harry lies.

“Kinda hard to miss,” YN pipes in from where she stands.

Looking at her reminds Harry of the summer. It felt like a dream looking back on it, how they became friends and then quickly drifted off after he stupidly misread her cues and tried to kiss her. Although it was one of the few times he had gotten drunk and he was out of his depth when it happened. But YN had avoided him after that. He knew they were going to the same school but he didn’t think he’d see her this early on.

Harry’s new friends eye YN, assuming she was being rude just because. But when Harry acknowledges her they settles down.

“YN. Hi.” Harry waves awkwardly.

“Harry,” she says coolly.

“You’re here for the paper?”

“The show actually,” YN nods. The girl she’s talking to touches her arm and motions she was heading elsewhere.

“Oh me too,” Florence pipes in. “I’m Florence by the way.”

“I’m Mikey,” his other friend says as if Flo opened a gateway to YN. “I’m also interested in it. Not sure if I’m staying though.”

YN eyes his friends and returns her gaze to Harry. “Neat. I’m YN.”

“You two know each other?” Mikey asks.

“Yeah,” Harry says as YN says “Unfortunately.”

There’s an awkward beat as the group tries to figure out if she’s joking it not. When her lips curl into a small smile and they take the cue to laugh. It amazed Harry how well YN could command a group. Even now.

“Are you going for any other clubs?” Flo continues asking YN.

“I was thinking tennis, I used to play.” YN says and Harry’s surprised to hear that. He’s reminded he didn’t know her much—he never really got to know her that well despite all the time together. She was a closed book on a lot of things. “How about you?”

“Yeah I’m thinking of joining the volunteer committee!”

“Yeah what do they do?” YN asks. “Obviously volunteering but like-“

She doesn’t need to correct herself any further as Flo launched into a onboarding speech about volunteer committee. And Harry’s mesmerized by YN as she listens to Flo attentively, it’s different to the way she interacted with him or Mikey or a lot of people. When she feels him staring her eyes flick up to meet his and then back to Flo. She does it again and he takes the hint, looking away.

He flushes remembering the summer, how things started so well and ended so terribly.

YN ends up sticking to their group as the club organizers gather everyone to do a small introduction of the Newsroom Society. When it ends and they’re left to mingle Harry’s friends ask him what they were going to do for lunch.

“I’m easy, we can go anywhere.”

“I wanted to catch the fencing match they have going on at 2,” Gabriel says. “I might stay behind-“

“Let’s just do the caf.” Harry decides.

Florence turns back to YN who’s with her friend again. “Hey we were gonna grab lunch in the caf would you want to join? Both of you?”

YN meets Harry’s eye and an awkward energy sizzles between the two. It happens so quickly.

“Soph?” YN asks her friend.

“Eh,” she shrugs. “Okay. I’m Sophie by the way…”

Introductions are made all over again and YN and Harry are left herding the crowd from behind at the end if it.

“Hi,” Harry says as they fall into step.

She eyes him first before responding, “Hi.”

Silence as the group ahead chatters away.

“How’ve you been?” Harry attempts small talk.

“Fine.” She replies without returning the question. Harry gets the hint and grits his teeth. It was frustrating knowing she had glued herself shut and it would require a tool he didn’t have to get her to open again.

At lunch she continues to gloss over anything he says and talking with everyone enthusiastically but him, making him feel like he was in secondary all over again.

“We should do this again,” Florence suggests. “You guys are fun.”

Harry thinks Flo just liked having girls to talk to since most of the friends she’d made so far had been Harry and his.

“Yeah,” Soph agrees. “Maybe we’ll all make the Newsroom Society. Flo I think I’ll come to the volunteer thing with you next week just text me when it is.”

Somehow Harry’s friends intermingle with YN’s and by the time classes actually starts he’s seen YN socially more often than he had in secondary.

“YN,” Harry catches her walking out of their international business course. He’d found they had two classes together despite deciding different majors.

She glances up at her name and upon seeing Harry continues walking.

“Hey YN,” he walks ahead enough to stop her.

“Hey. What?” She asks.

“Can we talk?”

She raises a brow.

“C’mon,” Harry turns and hopes she’ll follow. She does. He leads them to a seating area for students in the building’s courtyard. “We should talk.”

“About?”

“Us.” Harry fidgets. “Look, I know what I did last summer wasn’t right. And being drunk wasn’t an excuse. I…I misread the signs and I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to betray your trust like that and. Yeah. I’m really sorry. If we’re gonna hang out and be mates, it’s weird when you’re always mad at me.”

She stares at him for an uncomfortable period and Harry can’t hold eye contact the whole time.

“How many times did you practice saying that?” She asks with a straight expression.

He laughs, “A few times.”

Like the sun after a thunderstorm, her smile slowly brightens the rest of her face as it stretches over her face.

“For the record, don’t ever try to kiss me ever again.” YN lists on her fingers. “Secondly, there will never be signs between us as anything more than friends so just…don’t look for them. We’re just friends.”

“Got it,” Harry mock salutes.

“I’m not done,” she holds up three fingers. “Thirdly, it’s nice seeing you be less…secondary Harry.”

“What?”

“Y’know like, bookish awkward nerdy Harry. You’ve actually got friends, I saw you at a couple parties. It’s nice!”

“Oh,” Harry didn’t think YN thought about him at all. He thought he went back to being a nobody but she was still noticing things about him. Things he thought only he had picked up on.

She was right—he felt more himself the longer he was at uni. It wasn’t easy but he found it easier to make decisions about people and friends, emotions and conversations when the pressure to fit into a box fell away.

Of course, Harry still struggled connecting with his roommate. After declining his initial invite to a party Rod mostly kept to himself and sometimes Harry was asked to give him privacy a few hours some evenings. Harry usually obliged, wanting to still be friends with Roderick.

One of the parties YN saw him at must have been one Rod invited him to. It was the first time he’d really spoken to him since that first day. And Harry had gone to the party just to reduce the friction with Rod. It went over well, he’d even chatted up a girl.

“Anyway,” YN hitches her bag onto her shoulder. “My next class is much later in the day so I’m gonna find a place to crash until then.”

“When is it?”

“Like, 5?”

“Shit, you commuted for our 10 and have to stay that late?”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “It was the only way I could fit both classes into this semester.”

“D’you…” Harry reconsiders the rules she’d given him. He didn’t think this was breaking any. “D’you want to come go my dorm? You could…nap or something.”

Her face lights up, “Wait really?”

“Yeah?”

“Um yeah? If that’s alright if-“

“Yeah,” Harry’s pleased to be able to offer something that’s made her light up. “Yeah c’mon. My roommate should be out. My next class is at half past 1 though.”

“That’s enough time for a nap,” YN says as she falls into step beside him.

“You don’t have to leave.” Harry tells her. “You can stay while I’m in class.”

That’s how Harry finds himself walking out of his dorm quietly so as not to wake a sleeping YN. She had knocked out soon after getting into his sheets, and he’s thankful he’d just washed them over the weekend after accidentally spilling tea all over them.

He felt bad that she had to commute for nearly 2 hours and stay the whole day for an evening class. He gives her an open invitation to use his dorm as a hotel when she wanted. She’d corrected him it was more like a motel, and then said his bedsheets smelled surprisingly nice for a motel.

Harry has a smile for most of his walk to class.

Near the end of class his phone vibrates with a text.

Roderick: there’s a girl sleeping on your bed?

Shit, Harry didn’t think he’d be back before him.

Harry: that’s just YN, sorry hope you don’t mind.

R: nah I just wasn’t expecting it lol

H: she’s just crashing

R: she single?

H: what happened to the girl you were hooking up with last week?

Despite not talking a lot, Harry still had the lowdown on who Rod was hooking up with because of the revolving door of girls.

R: mate. That was last week.

Harry rushes back from class but to his surprise he finds YN sitting in bed braiding her hair while Rod leans against his desk explaining something about Sunderland.

“Oh hey Harry,” YN says when he walks in.

“Hey,” Harry tries not to sound too out of breath. “Uh I see you two’ve met.”

“Yeah. YN’s pretty cool, where’ve you been hiding her?”

“I’m not-“

“Ew,” YN cuts him off. “Do they not teach manners in Sunderland?”

Harry watches, for the first time since he’s met him, Roderick stammer and look uncertain.

“Anyway,” YN gets off the bed and adjusts her clothes. “Thanks for letting me crash.”

Harry watched Rod get a hold of himself and YN put her bag back together again. That was the privilege of being so beautiful, she could shame guys like Rod into behaving themselves.

“See you Friday?” YN tells Harry. They had a Newsroom Society meeting. Harry ended up making the cut for the paper along with Gabriel and Flo. YN had made it for the podcast and this week was when they first got assignments.

“Yeah,” Harry says. YN walks past him, squeezing him arm and walking out.

“Marra,” Rod blow the air out of his cheeks. “She’s….something. You should invite her to the party Friday if she’s on campus.”

“Yeah I’ll ask,” Harry says. Weird how the tables have turned, he thinks. Here he would be, inviting YN to a party.

***

Harry doesn’t get a chance to catch up with YN until after Newsroom. He asks her if she was doing anything afterwards.

“Nope,” she rubs her temple. “I have a Saturday shift to work so I was just gonna head home after this.”

“Oh.” Harry says. He forgot she worked. “I was gonna invite you to this party-“

“You?” She points to him and laugh. “You’re inviting me?”

“Erm yeah?”

“I love it.” She says seriously.

“Yeah,” a smile tugs at his lips. “I know. But if you’re busy-“

“Oh no. I’ll show up to a party you’re inviting me to, where is it?”

Harry gives her the place. She tells him one of her friends was trying to get here there too.

“Whatever, I’ll just suffer the consequences tomorrow. Although I’m not dressed for a party at all.”

Harry eyes her hoodie and jeans. Even he knew YN dressed up more for parties.

“Too bad you’re not a girl,” she sighs. “I could just borrow something from your closet.”

“How about the friend you mentioned?”

“She lives a town over so she commutes. Wait, let me see your closet maybe we can make something work.”

“Don’t you make fun of my closet?”

“No I make fun when you wear it. It might look hot on me.”

The idea of YN looking hot in his clothes forces the blood to rush to his head and he has to take a few deep breaths before trailing behind.

Rod’s nowhere in sight when they get to his dorm. Harry unloads his backpack and splays out on his bed, tired from the day and really not wanting to go to any parties.

“This could be cute,” YN unhooks a plain white tee from his closet and throws it on his bed. She picks up a sweater and a short-sleeved button up. She holds them up to her and instructs him to turn around while she tries it on.

Harry’s so tired that turned around he ends up falling asleep, half his body still dangling off the bed.

While uni was really fun for him, and getting to explore different sides of him and learn a whole lot, it was a constant rotation of something. Sometimes he wondered if he should drop a class or a club just to give himself some breathing room. Or sleeping room. But Harry wasn’t a quitter. Instead he was tired a lot of the time and felt like he was constantly catching up.

“Hello,” Harry’s woken by a vigorous shaking. YN peers down at him, lashes long and coated in mascara probably. Her lips are painted a deep pink and she’s put her hair down.

“How did you…” Harry blinks at her.

“I had some makeup in my bag, I just touched it up while you slept.” She sits down beside him. “Now what are you wearing and when are we leaving?”

“I’m just wearing this,” Harry motions to his jeans and hoodie. She raises a brow. “Wait what are you-“

He notices what she’s wearing. His white tee that hangs loose on him has been tightened into a single point on YN’s ribcage, baring her midriff. She’s kept her jeans on but somehow despite only swapping out one item of clothing she looks magnetic.

“Wow.”

“I know right,” she gets up to allow him the full picture even though he didn’t want to ogle any more. “I just went with one of your tees, used a hair tie to style it. I’ll wear my bomber on top. And you can change your hoodie at least. You’ll look like a slob in that, it’s not going to impress any girls.”

“What if I don’t want to impress any girls?”

“Don’t forget I caught you flirting with Sophie last week.” She warns him.

It was embarrassing, Soph had been talking through one of the articles they were assigned to think about for Newsroom and it had turned flirty when Sophie started teasing him. Harry had recently felt more confident in the girl department and he’d flirted back until YN had dropped into the conversation pretending to gag at Harry.

Harry wondered if Sophie would be at the party. He should have texted her to ask.

“Let’s not talk about that.”

“I would actually love to talk about that,” she grins. “But I do want to head out. So wear this and let’s go.”

She throws Harry a crewneck and taps her foot. When she doesn’t make a move to look away he changes in front of her and doesn’t meet her eye.

“You’ve got a tattoo?” YN sounds surprised as he gets his arms into the crewneck.

“Huh?” Harry realizes she’s staring at his ribcage. He forgot he had a tattoo, not often looking at himself naked in the mirror. “Oh yeah. Caleb and I got it for our 18th before we went to uni. He’s moved to Canada for uni so-“

“You’re full of surprises aren’t you.” YN says in a quieter voice than usual. Harry’s hands are still trapped in his sweater, halfway to his head, when she steps closer and traces her hand over the numbers. Her hands are cold and unexpected and he gasps.

“Sorry,” she looks up at him but he can barely look at her. She was touching his bare torso. “Was that cold?”

“Yeah,” Harry clears his throat.

“Any others?” She asks.

He shakes his head, his voice sticking in his throat. He couldn’t move, he was too busy concentrating on breathing.

He slowly pulls his jumper on the rest of the way and only when they head out does he feel safe enough to talk. He tells YN how he planned on getting more tattoos eventually, once he figured out what he liked. It was a bit scary being so permanent but he liked the way he could express himself or hold memories on his skin.

They talk about it until they reach the dorms the party was at.

“Catch you inside,” YN says as they enter. “Don’t get too drunk.”

“Never again” Harry shouts after her. She waves without turning around.

He thought they would hang out here together but he finds himself wandering the dorms until he spots Mikey. He becomes absorbed in Mikey’s group of friends and forgets he’d been here with YN.

At some point Harry finds himself the centre of attention of a girl from his intro to biology class. Mary. She’s cute with a shoulder-length brown hair and animated eyes. When she smiles at Harry he feels his heart flutter.

“What about weirdest?” She asks Harry. They were talking about their shared interest in cults.

“Raelian,” Harry responds. “Have you heard of them?”

“Ooh no tell me about it,” she shuffles closer to him in the stranger’s room they were talking in. Harry had been nursing his drink for the last couple hours and he’d nearly made it look like it was done.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and he ignores it. When it goes off again Mary raises her brow.

“D’you need to get that?”

“I dunno,” Harry pulls out YN flipping him off on screen. He still hadn’t changed her photo.

“Harry!” He hears his name shouted from the hall just as the call ends.

“Is somebody actually calling you?” Mary furrows her brows.

“I don’t-“ his name is shouted again but louder.

The two of them shuffle to the hall and YN’s unmistakable face comes into view.

“Harry!” She says in a loud and happy tone. “I found you!”

“YN,” Harry glances at Mary nervously. She seems concerned. “What happened?”

“What didn’t happen amirite?” She elbows him. “Anyway. I don’t feel well and I am going home.”

“Drunk?” Harry scratches his head. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. You’ve got like nearly 2 hours on the train.”

“And?” She shrugs. “I’ll sleep it off.”

“You can’t do that.” Harry insists.

“Well good thing you’re,” she points her finger into his chest and tilts forward. “Not the boss of me. Oh hey. We haven’t met!”

She spots Mary beside him and she bows to her.

“Heh. Harry. And Mary.” YN points between them.

“D’you need help?” Mary asks. “With her?”

“I don’t need help!” YN shouts. “I’m cool. I’m fun. I’m totally alright.”

“You’re really not,” Harry grits his teeth. He was finally hitting it off with Mary and of course YN had to go and get drunk and ruin it.

Technically he did invite her to the party though. Did that make her his responsibility? Harry wasn’t too sure about that sort of thing.

“I did an amazing job at Ring of Fire,” YN slurs. “Phe-nnnnn-omm-enal.”

“I am going to get her out of here,” Harry tells Mary. He twists his mouth to the side and hopes he looks as sorry as he felt. “I invited her so…”

“That’s alright! That’s what friends are for right?” She smiles. “I’ll see you in class?”

“Yeah!” Harry nods. “I’ll see you.”

With a final exchange of smiles Harry grabs YN by the shoulders and gets her out of the building. The whole time she talks about random things from the night that Harry couldn’t care less about.

“YN why did you get so bloody drunk,” Harry says outside his building. It was a co-ed so it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for both of them to go in but Harry wanted to sneak her into his room.

“I didn’t mean to,” she says. “I wasn’t even gonna stay this long.”

Her voice pitches down and she becomes droopier in Harry’s arms. His arms hurt; he should use the gym on campus more often.

“What happened?” Harry continues to entertain her.

She doesn’t say until they reach his room. He prays Rod would still be at the party and breathes a sigh of relief when the other side of the room is empty.

“Sit here,” Harry places YN on his bed and finds a water bottle for her. “Drink.”

“I can’t, I need to piss.”

Harry groans. “Why didn’t you say earlier?”

“I forgot,” she whispers. “Sorry.”

He points the toilets out to her and leaves the door open a crack so she can find her way back. Her mascara’s running when she gets back.

“Were you crying?” He asks.

“No! I tried to take this stupid stuff off.” She sighs. “It really is waterproof.”

Harry shakes his head, YN was a right state and he didn’t really know what to do. She’s always the one in control and in command. He remembers his sister using makeup wipes but he didn’t have any. He improvises with kleenex but she complains that it hurt. He tries dousing one in water but the makeup barely budges.

“Just let me sleep in it,” she complains.

“And get it all over my bedsheets?” Harry shakes his head. “No way.”

“Oils,” YN leans back in his bed anyway. “If you’ve got oil. Or balms. Whatever.”

Harry rummages through the room and manages to find a hair product his sister bought him with oils. He puts some on the kleenex but YN is snoring in bed by the time he gets up to her.

“C’mon,” he taps her face. “Did you seriously fall asleep already?”

“No,” YN cracks an eye open. “I’m up.”

“Good. Here use this.” He offers her the wipe but she whines until Harry gives in and helps her wipe it off. It makes his heart race and he tries not to breathe her in too much. Despite smelling like a brewery, underneath that she smells like YN. The one he knew last summer.

“You can’t sleep in my bed with this on.” Harry complains. Who knows where those jeans have been.

“M’not sleeping in my underwear,” she mumbles. “You wish.”

“Trust me I don’t,” Harry didn’t even sleep in his underwear. “I’ll give you some sweatpants. Please change into them.”

“You’re the worst,” she whines. But does as he says, moving like a sloth. She peels off his tshirt and slides into his sheets and Harry avoids looking at her in her sports bra. At least it wasn’t a lacy one.

She was just a friend. They had both made an agreement. Friends slept in the same bed. He’d probably shared a bed with Caleb before—this was fine.

Harry creeps under his sheets and tries to keep space between YN and himself but she tucks herself into his side and is out like a light.

***

Harry wakes to a shock of cold on his thigh. His eyes rip open and he yanks himself away from the freeze.

It takes him a moment to register YN giggling beside him.

“What the fuck!” Harry groans and turns on his back. At some point he’d turned towards YN and they’d probably slept facing each other. It was better than any other alternative he figured.

“Sorry,” she says without sounding a single bit sorry. “I just had to do it.”

“I literally let you crash in the same tiny bed as me and you repay me like that!?” Harry says to the ceiling. Sleep still tries to pull him back in but he fights it—with YN up he probably wasn’t going to get any more sleep.

“Okay no I shouldn’t have done that sorry.” She apologizes. “You wouldn’t happen to have like paracetamol or-“

“It’s in the desk drawer—what are you—ow!”

YN had started climbing over him as he answered and nearly kneed him between the legs.

“Sorry!” She whispers. Harry glances at his roommate to find him sleeping in his bed. He hoped Rod was too drunk to notice YN in his bed when he came in.

Harry decides to just get up then and eventually he walks YN to the bus terminal both of them full on caf coffee and breakfast. She was going to cut it close for her shift but she didn’t seem to care.

“Thanks for taking care of me last night,” YN says as the bus comes into view. She doesn’t look him in the eye as she says it and he can barely look at her saying it. “You didn’t have to and you did.”

“It’s nothing,” Harry says, equally uncomfortable with YN’s vulnerability.

“I saw an ex,” she meets his gaze. “I didn’t think I’d run into him after all this time. That’s kinda why I drank more than I intended. I wasn’t supposed to inconvenience you—hey, weren’t you talking to some girl last-“

“Yeah,” Harry hoped Mary wasn’t too weirded out by YN. “It’s fine. I’ve got class with her.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” she slaps her hand to her forehead. “I hope I didn’t make things weird. I owe you.”

“It’s alright,” Harry finally meets her eye and realizes it was alright. He could be friends with YN and maybe this could work. “It’s what friends do.”

“Really?” She asks.

He nods. “I’ll help you home from any party.”

“Awww,” she wrings her arms around Harry’s neck and he takes a step back to steady her. He forces his brain to think only friendly thoughts, and not how steady his hand feels on her lower back or how nice her hair smells, as he returns the hug. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said.”

She leans back and pats his face. “You’re growing up so much. Look at how much nicer you are.”

Harry blushes and she laughs at him as she runs to catch the bus. He watches the bus wink out of sight and sighs.

It was in part thanks to YN he’s grown so much, she forced him out of his shell and pointed out all the ways his intellect can get in the way of being a nice person. And being out of school helped the rest of the way; Harry’s contemplative on his walk back home.

***

“What about orange juice and biscuits?” Mary asks.

Harry thinks about it before shaking his head, “No. it doesn’t make sense.”

The two were having dinner together in the caf. Ever since the party last month they’ve spent more time together in between classes. They weren’t dating but there was a heavy chemistry between them. Harry didn’t realize, Mary was just waiting for them to make the first move.

“Crisps and jam?”

“Why?” Harry scrunches his face imagining the weird food combination. Mary was reading off an article she was reading when he sat down at her table.

She shrugs, “Apparently it’s moreish.”

Harry liked Mary a lot but he sometimes felt he paled next to her, like if he asked her out and she really got to know him she might not like him as much. So he kept her at arm��s length.

“What’s more-ish is the bile coming up my throat thinking of that.”

“A lot of these are pregnancy cravings!” Mary says. “What do we know?”

“Who’s pregnant?” Flo asks as she sits beside Mary. Mikey joins the table too.

“Nobody’s pregnant,” Harry corrects. “We’re just reading an article.”

“No actually, the computer science prof that everyone hates is pregnant. She’s not teaching next semester anyone who’s interested should take it then.” Flo informs the group.

“Can you imagine?” Mary turns to her. “Being so hated that the one semester you’re not teaching there’s a massive waiting list on your course?”

The group begins to discuss this particular prof and Harry fades into a listener. Mary catches his eye a few times and sends a bright smile his way and Harry keeps it tucked within.

Now a couple months into uni Harry was starting to find a rhythm that he was able to ride. He had more friends than he’s ever had, regularly went to parties and hung out with them, Rod and him were good friends by some way of YN, and uni challenged Harry’s brain in a good way.

Him and YN didn’t hang out very much but he often saw her at parties, in the Newsroom, or if he came back to his dorm while she napped. If had become part of their regular schedule for her to use his dorm to nap and Harry was more than happy to let her. Rod was too—even happier than Harry sometimes.

“Are you going to the Halloween thing Harry?” Mikey asks.

“Huh?” Harry had zoned out. “Uh I think so. Yeah. Why not?”

“Awesome,” Flo says. “We should go together.”

“We’re not doing matching costumed Flo,” Harry says for the tenth time this month.

“Why not?!” She cries. The table becomes noisy again as they argue the same thing they’ve argued since October started. Harry feels at home.

***

Just finished my mid-term, Harry texts Mary. We should celebrate with drinks later.

Yeah after I finish mine later today, would love to. Mary texts back.

Harry smiles at his phone and switches chat to YN.

Are you still at mine?

She doesn’t reply and Harry figures she’s either sleeping or maybe writing a mid-term. He knew she had one later this afternoon—the same class as Mary.

Uni turned out to be a small world, he’d found a few people he already knew in these halls and somehow new friends and old acquaintances had all mingled together.

The good thing was now that he regularly wore contacts and started putting in some effort in how he looked, a lot of his old classmates either walked past him with no recognition or spoke to him like they weren’t the reason he had one friend in secondary.

It still took some adjusting to: here he was, bottom-rung at his old school, asking someone at the top rung if she was still sleeping in his bed. It was mad.

Harry turns the key of his door and freezes at what’s before him.

His roommate Roderick sits on his bed with his back to the wall and someone looking very much like—no it was YN because her jacket lay on his bed, straddling his lap. YN and his roommate were making out.

“What is this?” Harry asks when his senses return. “What’s going on?”

“Oh hey Har,” Rod looks past YN. He was so casual, Harry felt a little crazy at thinking this was a big deal.

“Oh,” YN turns and unhooks her legs from around Rod. “You’re done your exam. How was it?”

Were they insane it was he just a prude? Harry’s roommate was making out with his friend. That regularly crashed in his room. Has this been going on for a while?

“Good. Fine. YN can we talk?” Harry asks.

“Sure,” YN climbs off the bed and fixes her lipstick whilst passing the mirror. Harry nods to the hall and she steps out. “What’s up?”

“What…what’s going on there?”

“What? Rod?”

“Obviously!”

“Oh my god Har, it’s nothing serious we were just making out.”

“For how long?”

“I dunno? Why do you want to know?”

“No like how long have you two been hooking up?”

“We were just making out today why’ve you got your panties in a twist?”

“So this is the first time?”

“No…we made out at a party last week. Anyway I was just studying on your bed after getting a nap in and he walked in. It got flirty, one thing led to another-“

“I’m not comfortable with this.” Harry clenched his teeth. He didn’t know why but it felt wrong they were doing this in his room. After he’d opened it up for her to give her a break from the constant commuting. What if things go sour between them and Rod takes it out on him? What if she ruins the vibe of their dorm?

“Harry,” YN lays a hand on his shoulder with a serious face. “You know I’ve kissed boys before. Done even more than-“

“This isn’t a joke,” Harry brushes her hand off. “I don’t feel comfortable with you doing…that in the room.”

“So now you’re deciding who I can see-“

“No!” Harry shouts a bit too loud and someone on the other end of the hall looks up. “No. You know that’s not what I’m saying. I don’t care who you hook up with YN. Just not in my room with my roommate. Do whatever you want with him at parties but not in my room. I don’t care what you do. Just…not in my room.”

Harry shuts up once he realizes he’s repeating himself. He hopes she understands.

“Fine.” She does her classic move. She shuts down. “I’ll be a devout virgin in your room. Outside I’ll be the wild child I am.”

“YN don’t twist this,” Harry sighs. “Why do you do that?”

“I’ve got an exam in a couple hours.” She opens the door. “I should go.”

“Already?” Rod says as they walk in.

“Harry’s made a request about us,” YN shoots him a look and Harry wants to take that look and throw it back at her. He was going to break it to Rod differently knowing how tenuous the balance of their friendship was. But now she’s just dropped it like a bomb in the middle of their dorm.

“What?” Rod looks at Harry.

Harry flushes but he tries to look at Rod when he tells him, “I think it’s weird you two making out here. You can do that anywhere just not here. My roommate and my friend…it’s weird.”

Rod blinks, Harry thinks he’s zoned out until he shrugs. “Nee bother. I respect it Harry. I’ll catch you out there then YN.”

YN looks between the boys, her hands holding her bag are curled into fists and with one last angry look to Harry she exits the room.

“Doesn’t look like she’s too chuffed with you man.” Rod pipes in from behind.

She wasn’t chuffed with him half the time, Harry was now used to it.

***

The Halloween party is packed like sardines and Harry considers leaving. Mary had come down with a flu and she’d also been avoiding him the last week. Gabe said she’s probably tired of him not doing anything about their mutual crush, Flo thinks she needs space, and YN says she found someone new to fantasize about but Harry thinks the last one is mostly to get under his skin.

Ever since that day in his dorm YN’s gone back to being bristly with Harry. It doesn’t bother him most days but it does frustrate him on a few.

“Harry!” A familiar face waves him down. The party was in off-campus student res and it was decorated like somebody had gone batshit on Amazon. Just walking toward Sophie, Harry had gotten a faceful of smoke, fake cobwebs, and bubbles for some reason.

“Soph! How’s it going?” Harry hadn’t seen Sophie since she quit Newsroom a few weeks ago. With midterms and club deadlines clashing she decided she couldn’t do both and left the club.

“So much better,” her brightened eyes and large smile fixed on her face clued Harry in that she’d already started drinking. “But I miss the Newsroom crew. How is everyone?”

“We’re fine—you know you could still hang out with us? We’re around.”

“Ugh I know,” she sways towards him. “But I feel like I hardly have time to be social. Social. Does that sound weird—so-shul?”

“I think you’re a bit drunk Soph,” Harry points to her cup.

“Oh yeah,” she laughs. “What about you? You don’t even have a drink!”

“I…I was gonna go get one.” Harry lies. He was actually gonna go home.

“Okay! Someone had shots going.”

She grabs his hand and it tingles. She races around until she finds the half-empty vodka and demands Harry do shots with her. He nearly chokes on it and coughs uncontrollably which sets Soph off.

“Are you alright?” She slaps his back harder than she looks like she could. “You need a chaser hold up!”

She disappears behind the table and pulls out lime wedges from god knows where. She instructs Harry how to do it even though he didn’t want any more but she doesn’t relent.

The second time is a lot smoother but Harry realizes he really did not like vodka either.

“Soph! Har! You two know each other?!” Roderick suddenly walks in on them, crashing the two with an arm around both. “Small worlds!”

“Hey Rod,” Soph’s glow dims a little.

“Now what kind of hello is that? And what are you supposed to be?”

“Scream queen right?” Harry asks as Soph says “Scream Queen duh?”

Rod frowns and takes his arms down. “Well I can make you scream, qu-“

“Alright,” Harry and Soph eye each other. Harry has been to enough parties with Rod to know what level of drunk meant what level of no filter. And it was best they left him alone now. “We’ll see you around mate.”

“Thank you,” Soph whispers in his ear as she loops her arm and they walk away.

“What’s going on with you two?” Harry asks. He’s learned enough to know Sophie soured at the sight of him.

“Really?” She asks.

“Really—what?”

“Him and YN were hooking up a few weeks ago. He was just…ekgh.”

“That’s not a word,” Harry laughs.

“I know!” She throws her hands up, one of which holds a knife.

“Alright,” Harry holds his up. “It’s a word.”

She throws her head back and laughs, then wields the knife against his throat.

“Woah, Soph.”

“It’s fake!” She laughs again.

“Yeah thank god,” Harry lowers it and she tumbles into him with the pressure she had put on it.

“Oops,” she smiles up at him. “Hey how d’you know Scream Queens?”

Blood rushes to Harry’s head as she looks up at him through her lashes. Soph was beautiful—she always had been. But tonight she looks particularly beautiful. It could be the vodka. But he wanted to kiss her.

“I watched it over the summer with…” Harry had watched it with YN. This was YN’s friend. Maybe he shouldn’t kiss her.

“Hm?” She inches her arm up and loops it around his neck. Her head tilts to one side and Harry feels the vodka flood his brain while his blood rushes another direction. “You’ve got really nice eyes.”

“So do you.” Harry barely gets out.

“Our babies would have amazing eyes.” She says with complete seriousness. Obviously she was drunk.

“Yeah. Uhm,” Harry tries to push her away. He does, or he tells himself that. But when she stands on the balls of her feet Harry felt it was rude to not meet her halfway. Not press his lips against her strawberry-flavoured plush ones. It felt amazing.

“D’you wanna go somewhere?” She whispers in his ear.

Harry doesn’t want to. He just wants her to shut up so they can keep kissing.

He leads her gently to the wall and continues kissing her, displaying what he’s learned in his two months at uni. And the noises she makes does unspeakable things to Harry.

“C’mon!” She urges to him. “Surely one of the bedrooms are free!”

At the thought his mind clears for a single moment. Should he be doing this? Was his first time really going to be at a Halloween party with Soph?

“I don’t have any-“

“That’s alright!” She tugs him back to her. “Let’s just see where the night takes us.”

“You’ve got to lose the knife though,” Harry says against her lips.

She laughs and tucks it into his back pocket. “Okay?”

Her laugh scatters away the remaining rational thought and he follows her wherever she takes him.

***

“Alright team,” the head of Newspaper stands addressing the crowd. “This has been an incredible year of reporting. I think we’ve done a fantastic job and I want to commend you all on your efforts and time lent to our humble club. Our final edition is going to print today, and the year’s final episode releases this Friday. So do give it a listen. Next year we’ll be back invigorated with more stories to tell. Have a great holiday all!”

Harry’s eyes roam the room, feeling content at being part of this hard-working group.

Despite only a semester on the Newspaper Harry felt really bonded with everyone. The team was big, split into print and podcast and yet despite not knowing everyone, the passion for stories and reporting was palpable. Especially release weeks.

Over the semester Harry had gotten even closer to Florence and Gabriel, it made Newsroom feel even more collaborative. And they often grabbed a bite after Newsroom or they would sometimes go to Gabriel’s and play video games. YN would join occasionally.

YN, only being a first year, was often frustrated being sidelined by seniors. Her friends often heard about it after particular Newsroom meetings. Still, YN on the podcast team made waves and Harry knew because her name was often on a lot of projects or on the lips of a lot of seniors. It made him proud to be her friend, often it reminded him of how he used to think about her. But Newsroom was a perfect example of how they both had separate strengths and how they flourished in each of them. He’s glad he realized that last year.

Harry’s eyes continue to dart to the door, checking his phone. It was weird y/n didn’t show up today when she should have. Especially the final meeting.

When the group goes for dinner in the caf Harry spots their friend Sophie.

What started as hooking up at Halloween ended in a few other hook-ups over the last month or so. Each time Harry felt incredibly guilty but Soph was really nice to him and nice to kiss too. Plus, Mary had stopped hanging out with him without another word and he wasn’t exactly sure what he did for that. So he’d given her space.

“Y/n wasn’t at today’s meeting, shame.” Flo says to Soph. “D’you know where she is?l

“No, that’s strange. I saw her earlier today?” Soph looks at the group.

“Me too,” Gabe adds. “She’s around.”

“Yeah it is strange,” Harry comments. “She’s usually on time, or at least sends us a text if she can’t make it.”

“I hope everything’s okay,” Flo scrunches her brows.

“I’m sure it is.” Sophie reassures her.

She turns to Harry with a secret smile, one hand sliding onto his thigh. “Any plans after this?”

“Oh!” Harry startles as her hand slides higher up his thigh. This was so…public. “Maybe. Uhm. Soph can we talk?”

He’d wanted to talk to her all week but had been so busy with exams. He thought about it a lot and really didn’t think sneaking behind y/n’s back with her friend was right. Especially after he asked her not to hook up with Rod in his room and she stopped.

Sophie shrugs and follows him off to the side.

“We need to talk,” Harry starts, he waves between both of them. “About this.”

“Yeah?” Sophie asks.

“Yeah. And. About Y/n.”

Sophie just notices the serious tone to Harry’s voice. She stops playing with her hair and stands taller. “Okay. What about her?”

Harry takes a deep breath, trying to articulate his thoughts. “I’ve just been thinking with us being her friend, she doesn’t know about us. I don’t want to sneak behind her back give her another reason to have trust issues—she’s been through a lot.”

“Yeah,” Soph agrees. “Y/n’s strong. She’s got like, that tough quiet strength she just exudes it always. I admire that about her.”

Harry nods, a small smile tugging on his lips. “Exactly. She’s really loyal to her friends, and I don’t want to screw anything up. I just…don’t think she’d approve of this.”

Sophie’s eyes soften with understanding. “Oh.”

“What?”

“You…care about her don’t you?”

“Well uhm yeah she’s my friend I-I yeah-“

“Like care about her.” Soph cuts off Harry’s stuttering. He felt like an idiot.

“Uhhh…”

“Be honest,” Soph curls the side of her mouth. “It’s not like we’re dating I don’t like care if you do.”

“Yeah fine. More than I probably should yeah,” he sighs. “But she’s made it clear we’re nothing more than friends. And I’m fine with that but we go way back and she’s helped me though a lot. I just don’t want to lose her. As a friend. But you’re a really great person too Soph I don’t want to lose. And I don’t want it to get complicated here.”

“I get it,” Sophie shrugs. “But it doesn’t have to be complicated. Or a secret. We’re just having fun!”

“Yeah I just don’t want to jeopardize anything.”

Unbeknownst to Harry and Sophie, y/n enters the caf then and spots the two before spotting their usual table. She heads towards Harry and Sophie first, curious as to why they were separated in what looked like an intense discussion.

“Fine. I get it!” Sophie continues.

“I’ve screwed up with her enough.” Harry says as y/n gets within hearing distance. “I hate feeling like I’m walking on egshells around her.”

“YN’s a tough cookie,” Soph agrees. “I’d be scared to be on her bad side.”

“I’ve been on it. Kinda made my life hell. It’s like facing a lion with just a stick.”

“You poor thing,” Soph touches Harry’s cheek and laughs just as her phone vibrates. “Oh that’s Emmy hold on.”

Harry smiles as she steps away but it dies as y/n steps into view.

“Oh y/n…how long-“

“Walking on eggshells? Didn’t realize being around me was such a burden-“

“No y/n that’s not the-“

“Save it Harry,” her eyes flicker with hurt.

“No seriously!” Harry tries to explain. “I wasn’t saying it like that!”

“You compared me to a fucking lion!”

“Let me explain-“

“After everything I told you about me I thought we got each other Har-“ Y/n cuts herself off as her throat closes with tears. She was not the type to cry in front of anyone, especially a boy. She waits for the feeling to subside. “It’s pretty clear where I stand. And by the way, talking me down isn’t going to make you look good with Soph.”

“Y/n please,” Harry feels her slipping away again and he envisions taking her by the shoulder and giving her a good shake. He hated when she did this, like the tides at a beach she retreated so quickly all he was left with was sand. She never left enough time for someone to grab her.

“Just…whatever Harry.”

With that she turns on her heel and walks away, the noise in the caf suddenly comes roaring in on either side of Harry. He wants to turn the volume dial all the way down and run after her but he knows neither are possible.

“What was that?” Sophie reappears.

“She heard the wrong end of our conversation.” Harry says with dread. “I didn’t mean for her to hear it like that. She must think…I don’t even know what she must think.”

“Mmm,” Sophie squeezes Harry’s shoulder. “Just give her space. I’ll ask her what she heard and explain don’t worry. She’ll come around.”

Harry wasn’t so sure.

***

Harry watches as Mary enters the bar and looks around. For a moment he can just be another bloke seeing Mary for the first time wondering what she’s like with her cropped hair and animated brown eyes. He feels his heart picking up speed the longer he watches her—he can’t believe it took him this long to ask her out officially.

Although it wasn’t entirely his fault.

Harry didn’t think Mary would ever be interested in him on a deeper level—he definitely wouldn’t date himself. And when Mary began to make excuses about hanging out last year, Harry took that as a big glaring sign he was right, instead of just asking her outright.

Then there was the tryst with Soph. And the fallout with y/n who cut him out of his life like she was scissors through wrapping paper. Harry acted like it didn’t hurt him but it did; after all the time they spent together he didn’t know how y/n could be so cold with people she called her friends. She didn’t even care about his explanation.

But Harry’s sister had given him an earful one night during Christmas break, about dating the girl he was really into and not being such a coward. It took him a whole month to work up the courage but on Valentine’s Day he’d asked Mary to be his. It was cheesy but she loved it. They’d hung out a few times and last week Harry asked her to be his girlfriend. He was officially in a relationship!

Mary catches his wave from the front and she breaks into her toothy smile that squeezed his heart every time it was directed his way. Falling in love made the whole world feel soppy. Harry’d never experienced something like this; in a world of learning and achievements this was one he felt really proud to get to.

“What are you smiling so hard about?” Mary teases as she reaches him. Harry kisses her and keeps her hand in his as they sit.

“Just this girl, can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Must be a lucky lady,” Mary grins. She was head over heels too.

“Nah I think I’m the lucky one.”

“God,” Mary pulls her hand away and presses them to her blushing cheeks. “You’re damn charming when you want to be Harry.”

That wasn’t a word anyone would ever use to describe him. Yet Harry feels over the moon to hear it. Here was proof he was changing—he was finally growing up.

The new couple have a few drinks with their food, they talk about school, friends, and the upcoming Easter Break.

“I’m heading home too,” Mary was originally from Liverpool. “My mum’s sister’s coming in from Australia for Easter. She’s got these little rascals I haven’t seen in years so I’ll have to see how big they’ve gotten now.”

“Are those the rascals who stole your Taylor Swift poster?”

“Signed poster,” Mary corrects him. “And yes. As payback because I caught then stealing their dad’s smokes. It’s been 3 years and I still haven’t gotten that back.”

“You really think they kept it?”

“Well we’re gonna find out,” Mary grinds her knuckles into the palm of her other hand. “I’m older and stronger now I can take them.”

Harry laughs, he loved seeing Mary when she was joking like this. Otherwise she was a bit like him when it came to studying and being serious.

“Well you’ve got a boyfriend now. I’ll make the trip if it means getting that poster back.”

“Would you!?” Mary reaches out to him. “That’s actually so sweet.”

Harry’s chest fills with warmth as she kisses him, and that sparks a different hunger. They pay their tab and head out hand in hand back to his dorm.

Rod isn’t in and they take advantage of that.

Roderick and Harry had continued their friendship despite y/n disappearing from his dorm. They’d gotten to the point where Harry declined a couple parties and Rod didn’t take it personally, and Harry actually helped Rod out with some of his studies. They worked out together and there was a better balance.

He did see y/n at parties sometimes. A couple times with Rod too. He tried to talk to her the first couple times but she always danced away just as he got to her. So he stopped trying. She was frustrating.

“Hey,” Mary kisses his jaw. “Where’d you go?”

“Sorry,” Harry had gotten lost in his head again. “I think Rod’s gonna be back soon-“

“Oh,” Mary sighs. “Okay. My roommate’s a shut in, too bad we can never go to mine.”

“If I asked him to not come home he wouldn’t,” Harry realizes Mary wanted to cross some bases too late. He really should stick to being in his body more often. He should have messaged Rod as soon as they headed here.

“Maybe next time,” Mary smiles sweetly. She wipes the side of Harry’s lips with her thumb, that’s when he realizes she was wearing lipstick. It was a subtle colour but not as much when it’s smeared on her chin. Something about seeing it like that feels endearing to him.

“Until then,” he pulls her back to him and kisses her hard, she responds in kind. Just as Harry slips his hand below her tee the doorknob jiggles. He sighs, “Fuck.”

“It’s alright,” Mary whispers below him. “That was fun.”

He peers back down at her, her lipstick is even worse but she’s looking up at him like she’s seeing him for the first time. Note to self show Mary how much I like her, Harry realizes.

This time he uses his thumb to swipe at the smudged lipstick. She smiles at him like he hung the stars.

***

Harry would have taken the train home last night to avoid the crowds but it was his last day with Mary before being apart for 2 weeks and he wanted to make the most of it. So now he pays the consequences with a packed train and barely any leg room.

The guy next to him plays some video game on his phone, the person across from that guy is already napping with her mouth open. Harry waits to see who takes the seat across and his heart drops when they finally take the seat and look up at him.

“For fuck’s sake,” she mutters.

Y/n. Of course it would be her. She’s cut her hair since the last time he saw her—now she has a fringe and he’s pretty sure layers with how much they flick outwards from her face.

“Y/n,” Harry greets her. This was going to be one long train ride. Although he wasn’t sure what she was doing here—did she move on campus this semester?

“Harry…” she says with a studied coolness.

“Nice to see you.”

“Is it?” She asks. “Look I’ll just find another-“

She gets up but Harry’s faster. He stretches out his long leg to block the corridor. She’s stuck within the 4-seater.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping you in,” Harry says with a small smile. She would be forced to sit in front of him, he would finally be able to get her to talk.

“Harry don’t be so immature move your leg.”

“That’s your seat just take it y/n.” He motions to it.

“Harry!” She tries to climb over it but Harry just raises his leg and it throws her off balance. She nearly falls backwards but Harry springs up fast enough to balance her. That’s how he finds himself standing in her personal space, one hand on her lower back and the other clutching her arm.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“Get. Off of me.” She replies.

He lets her go and she actually sits back down. Harry glances around and flushes as he realizes everyone around them had started staring.

“Nice hair,” Harry tries again as the train leaves the station. By then they’d been sitting in silence for at least 15 minutes.

“Yeah. Whatever.” Y/n brushes her bangs.

“So are you on campus now?” Harry continues casually.

This both surprises and irritates y/n. Usually he was very sensitive to when she was being a bitch to him, but now it seemed he was getting some enjoyment out of talking to her despite her attempt at staying cold; something had changed with him.

“No.” She answers as clipped as possible.

“So you’re taking the train home today because…”

“God Harry,” y/n sighs. “I had my last exam and stayed out too late. Now stop asking me questions like I’m in a bloody interview. Leave me alone!”

“Isn’t that what I’ve been doing the last couple months,” Harry grumbles. The look she gives him could cut him in half.

She studies him, what’s changed she wonders. He still didn’t meet her eye completely but he was challenging her a lot more. She wouldn’t have minded it as much if she wasn’t recovering from a killer hangover.

“So won’t be hard to continue.” She glares.

And that’s how the remaining hour or so is spent sitting across from his friend or ex-friend, whatever. In silence. Apart from a few glances her way he buries his nose in his book and texts Mary as she boards her own train.

Of course, they get off on the same platform and when Harry’s mum catches sight of y/n she insists on giving her a ride home since y/n was just going to take the bus. The two of them sit in silence as Harry’s mum asks them a dozen questions. The ride ends with an invite for dinner and a non-committal yes from y/n.

“You guys get into a fight or something?” Harry’s mum asks as they drive to their home.

“Or something,” Harry mumbles.

“It was like the the bloody DMZ in here.”

Harry shrugs. “It’s just y/n being y/n.”

“I saw her a couple weeks ago at M&S,” Harry’s mum continues. “She didn’t look so good I offered her a ride but she said she was waiting for her sister to finish her shift. D’you know what’s going on with her?”

Harry thought about it but couldn’t think of a single thing. Y/n kept her cards very close to her chest.

“No. She doesn’t share much.”

“Well do you ask?”

“No but even if I did she would just shut me out,” Harry suddenly feels defensive.

“It’s still nice to be asked,” his mum says. “Knowing someone cares enough.”

Harry looks at his mum, the words she’s saying makes sense. But it surprises him to hear them and realize just how much it made sense. How come he’s never realized that?

Maybe he was a shittier friend than he realized.

So Harry gives it a few days and shows up at y/n’s house. This time he knew exactly where to find her.

“You are?” One of y/n’s brothers answers the door. He was a couple years older than them.

“Harry I uh-is y/n home?”

“Maybe,” his brother continues to scrutinize Harry until he squirms. “Wait here.”

He waits for an eternity, sitting down on the stoop while he does. Finally the door opens behind him and y/n joins him on the stoop.

She’s in a blue sweater and pyjama pants. Harry’s surprised to see little powerpuff girls all over them. His sister used to watch that Friday evenings.

“What’re you doing here?”

“I just want to talk y/n,” Harry had practiced looking her in the eye. Just talking to her like a friend. He looks at her now. “You’ve been icing me out for months now it’s unfair. Sophie told me she told you what we were talking about, how you walked in when it sounded wrong and you’re still mad about it?”

She stares at him for a beat before sighing.

As she exhales she grows smaller in front of him until she’s drooped over, her arms circle her knees, and her head rests atop them—she’s the size of a pumpkin.

“I’m not mad at that,” she admits. “Sophie explained you didn’t mean it like that. I was more offended just at the fact that you two were talking about me. But I didn’t realize you two were close…”

“Yeah. I’m sorry about that-“

“That,” she cuts him off. “Is mostly why I was upset with you. You made such a big deal that I was hooking up with Rod meanwhile you were banging one of my friends? Behind my back?”

“We weren’t-I wouldn’t say bang-“

“Doesn’t matter Har!” Y/n sits up again and Harry feels the clouds break for a sec as she uses his nickname. “That wasn’t a great way to find out. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Harry didn’t know. Or he did: he didn’t think him and Soph were going to be more than a one time thing and when it was, he was ashamed a bit. He didn’t think he would go to college and have a casual relationship as his first one. It wasn’t something he necessarily wanted public knowledge.

“Maybe I was scared. I dunno. I just know I’m really sorry.”

They sit in silence for a few seconds, Harry hears the hoover turn on in yn’s house.

“Why’ve you got to be so fucking honest for,” y/n finally says with a sigh. “Makes it so hard to be mad at you when you’re all sincere and vulnerable.”

“Sorry,” Harry repeats.

“Stop it!” YN exclaims.

“Fine!” Harry’s heart pounds. “I don’t give a fuck about how you felt. Happy?”

Y/n freezes and slowly turns to stare at him. A smile ever so slowly tugs at the corner of her lips. She almost looks proud?

“Harry!” She grins. Then she punches him square in the bicep. Then gasps. “Have you been working out?”

Harry had been; in between class and clubs and dating, he started working out last winter with Rod.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me y/n,” Harry jokes and y/n snorts. The two look at each other at the sound of it before bursting out in laughter.

“I don’t know where that came from!” Y/n says through laughter. “I literally snorted!”

“You sounded like Peppa Pig,” Harry also has tears in his eyes. He missed hanging out with y/n.

Once they get ahold of their laughter Harry bumps his shoulder into hers. “It’s nice you’re talking to me again.”

She looks like she wants to say something to Harry, her eyes grow intense as she fixes onto him, her chin wobbling, but then it passes. Harry ignores the spark of disappointment.

“Yeah we’ll see.” She says with a half smile.

All was right in the world again, Harry thought.

He should have known, though, being friends with y/n would never be that simple.

*

TAGLIST: hmu if you want to be added

[slvt4em1lyprenti2s]

Forbidden Love: Chapter 2

Next chapter Previous chapter

Can we just kiss like real people do?

Summary: Professor!Emily x fem!student reader explore their new relationship.

Word count: 1.3k

TW: kissing, mainly jut fluff

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x female reader

Masterlist

Criminal Minds Masterlist Emily Prentiss Masterlist

Emily’s pov: 

I can’t believe we are going out. I know she’s a student but honestly, I couldn’t care less about the rules right now. She’s perfect. We’re currently standing in the lecture hall and she's in front of me, my hands on her waist just looking into her eyes, trying to memorise every little feature on her face. I lean down and whisper in her ear “What do you think about dinner tonight?” I feel her lean into my touch as she says “I’d love that.” A bright smile breaks out on her lips. God, I could look at her smile all day, it’s infectious. 

I pull her into another kiss and take her hand as I lead her to my car. I open the door and she mutters a small ‘thank you’ and I smirk at how even the smallest gestures make her swoon. I walk to my side and turn the car on. Once we’ve gotten on the road I place my hand in hers and bring it to the gear stick, feeling her tense up at first but relaxing after a second. I look over at her and see her smiling still while looking out the window, her eyes flick to mine for a second and then back as she blushes again. She’s going to be the death of me. 

Reader pov:

Her hand is in mine, HER HAND IS IN MINE? I’ve never been so, I don’t know, jumpy? Because of another person before. It’s just something about her, the way she holds herself, the way she talks, the way she looks, the way she says my name, the way she cares. God, everything about her makes me nervous. 

As we pull up to a restaurant near the outskirts of town my mouth drops open. Not only is it Italian food -my favourite- but it’s super fancy. We’re in the wealthier end of the city right now so that really shouldn’t surprise me but it did. In my haze I didn’t see Emily leave the car and make her way over to my side, she opened the car door and took my hand to help me out, scarlet creeping onto my cheeks. 

“Such a gentlewoman.” I say teasingly.

“Only for my girl.” She husked into my ear. Her girl? Oh my god.

As we got seated, she pulled my chair out for me and motioned for me to sit, “Thank you.” I looked down at the menu to distract myself from her sheer presence making me hot. She sat opposite me and asked me “Do you drink?” I smiled at her politeness.

“I do, and I’m not fussed about what.” Her eyes lit up when I said that - clearly excited to have control over the drinks for the night. Without sparing a second she waved over a waiter and asked for some fancy red wine with a fancy name that seemed like it cost a month's rent. The waiter came back with the bottle and two glasses, poured us both one and left the wine in the ice bucket he also had with him. She picked her glass up and gestured towards me and I lifted mine.

“To our first date.” She said with a smile which I gladly returned. 

“To our first date.” We clinked our glasses and each took a sip of wine. My mouth watered at the taste. She really did know what she was doing when it same down to wine.

“Good?” Emily wondered out loud.

“So fucking good.” I replied. She seemed pleased with my answer and continued to browse the menu. God she’s gorgeous.

After dinner - which consisted of enjoyable, easy conversation and just generally getting to know each other outside the teacher, student setting - I got back in her car and she began to drive me home. While we were driving in a comfortable silence the pleasant hum of the radio in the background, my favourite song came on: Like Real People Do by Hozier. My eyes lit up and a grin made its way onto my face. “I love this song!” I say to her excitedly. 

“No way, same, Hozier right?” I turn to look at her even though she can’t look at me because she’s driving.

“Yeah, I love his music! What’s your favourite song by him?” She pondered for a minute before answering.

“Probably Work Song, what about you.” She seemed genuinely excited that I knew his music and it made my heart flutter.

“Either Work Song, the one that’s playing now: Like Real People Do or, Cherry Wine.” Her hand finds mine and is trapped on the gear stick again once I finish talking.

“You’ve got amazing taste in music.” My heart felt like it was going to soar out of my chest when she said that, it’s honestly my favourite compliment. 

“Thank you so much, so do you!” Her hand squeezed mine as she said,

 “Thank you angel.” My head ducked to hide the blush bought on by the pet name, which she clearly has picked up on by now, but her unoccupied hand found my chin and turned my head to face her. I hadn’t even realised we stopped but I didn’t question it.

‘Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips and we can just kiss like real people do’

The song played as she pulled me in closer to her and locked her lips with mine. It was like heaven on earth, like two puzzle pieces sliding into place. Her lips already felt like home. We pulled away breathless, and she still held my face in her hand, the other one still preoccupied holding my own and gazed into my eyes, “Can I have your number honey, so I can check up on you and stuff?” I grinned affectionately at her rambling and the fact she just asked me for my number, I said yes and gave her my phone, unlocked. As she typed in her number I couldn’t help but stare, her gorgeous smile gracing her lips, her eyes lit up in the light of my phone, her raven hair sweeping her shoulders, her nose scrunching as she sniffled a bit, she’s just god sent. 

I was pulled from my thoughts when she handed me back my phone, allowing me to chose her contact name, knowing she was going to watch whatever I put in I named her ‘em ❤️’. I closed my phone and looked at her, seeing her smirk already forming. “A heart hm?” I just nodded my head as she chuckles lightly, “You’re so cute love.” She pecked my nose before bringing me in for another kiss, stealing my breath yet again. As we pull away I try to stifle my yawn, feeling the affects of the lecture and dinner catching up to me. “You should probably go get some sleep y/n/n.” A nickname already? God if I wasn’t down bad before I am now. 

“Y/n/n?” I questioned her just as she did me. A crimson layer painted her face and not mine for once. 

“Yeah, if that’s okay with you?” She tilted her head slightly as she beamed at me teasingly, already knowing my answer. 

“Of course it is.” Another kiss was planted on my lips and I smiled so hard my cheeks burned. I looked towards my flat and got my bag from the footwell. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” I said hoping she wouldn’t have to be away for a meeting and actually get to teach. 

“See you tomorrow princess.” I smiled again at the nickname, shut the door and waved to her as I got to my front step and walked into my flat. She’s perfect.

[thefandomdirtymind]

The Haircut

OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji

Sequel : The Small Favor (18+)

Sanji / OPLA Masterlist and Coming Soon 

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.

—

Sanji was in a weird mood.

Not that it was affecting his food,delicious like always, or the easy conversation you usually have after breakfast around a strong cup of coffee. But, even from your seat at the far corner of the table, your book abandoned at the benefit of your curiosity, you could see that something was bothering the cook.

Busy at chopping vegetables for a future meal, his face a total mask of concentration you hadn’t seen on him for something as easy, you heard him sigh of frustration as he passed a hand on his blond lock. His hair that you had often joked that you could easily make a fortune of, as much they look like golden filaments. His hair, which now was long enough to reach his chin.  

“ Sanji ? “ You advanced, not wanting to irritate him more if your deduction was wrong. After all, his mood could be affected by a lot of things, starting by waking up from the wrong side of the bed to Luffy stealing an item prepared especially for the supper of the next day. “ Isn’t your hair aren’t becoming a little bit long ?”

Putting his knife down, giving you all his attention, he offered you a smile that didn't exactly reach his eyes. 

“ Indeed sweetheart, when I was at Baratie, Zeff would call a barber for the whole crew since we were cut for most of the civilisation. With luck, sometimes, one of the new cooks or waiters was an old barber.But on this ship, I didn’t realize it could become a problem. Then, here I am already incommode with the curtain of my hair and it’s starting to play with my nerves. “

“ I can cut them for you if you want “ You offer, closing your book for good. Helping your favorite crew member was way more interesting. “ I’m not a pro, of course, but I gave some haircuts to the kid in my village and they never complained.”

“ I wouldn’t bother you, it just irritates me when my vision is as obstructed.” He hesitated. 

“ Sanji, I offer it. “ You smile, knowing way too well how the tall man loves to care for others,but rarely asks for anything other than help to charge his grocery shopping “ I have nothing more to do than read that book and trust me, it can wait. But, I will not force you, if you don’t want me to cut your hair.We still can use hair pins until we reach an island with a city” 

“ No darling,it’s okay, I trust you “ He replied, a true smile on his lips.

“ Ok, then I will go take my scissors and I will come back.” You said, leaving the kitchen. 

When you came back, Sanji had been busy. A single chair had been put aside in the best light angle, some towels were aligned on the counter and the broom was waiting in his corner. 

“Will you need something else ? “ Sanji asked. 

“ No it’s perfect, thank you “ You confirmed “ If you’re ready, take place and I will do the rest okay ? “

Nodding of the head, the blond sits, letting you work. 

As you expected, the hair of Sanji was clean and soft under your touch. Passing your fingers into his hair, trying to determine where to cut and how much. You often saw him close his eyes, with a pleasant smile, clearly enjoying the sensation of your hands through his locks. Repressing the need to tease him, you carefully made the first chop. 

Reaching the front part of his hair, you gently cut his bang, millimeter by millimeter,  trying as much as possible to stay focused and not meet his soft but, also burning, gaze on you.

“ Sanji, if you continue to look at me like that you will finish with less hair than you expected “ You warned, cutting the straws between your fingers at the right length. 

“ I’m sorry, if I distract you, I just didn’t notice how pretty your eyes were…” He softly replied, his flirty tone present but underneath a new awe you had rarely heard from him. “ It's just that we never had the chance to see our faces so up close aren’t we ? “

“ Never had the occasion, it’s true “ You said, adjusting the cut around his ears. Of course due to his nature, Sanji had always kind of flirted with you and since you knew that said nature, you didn’t take it personally. So with time, it became a great friendship. But, here, at only a few inches of his face, you couldn’t say that all your thoughts were totally friendly. 

“ I maybe should have tried harder “ He flirted, giving you this playful smile you like that much. 

Lightly laughing, you finished the last touch, doing the last check by passing your fingers through his hair one last time, before putting down your scissors. 

“Hello Handsome” You flirted back, intending as being more a tease than an actual line. But as you were arranging his hair in his usual hair style. You caught his eyes still focused on you, and the interesting blush effect that your innocent greeting to his freshly former self had caused.��

“ Hello coeur en sucre * “ He replied softly, as much unsure as you if the palpable tension of your accidental flirting will lead to a sweet result or in a silent agreement to forget the moment.  * Sweetheart/ Heart of sugar

Your gaze caught in each other, your faces close enough that you could smell the faint odor of his last cigarette under his breath. You closed your eyes and gently put your mouth on his, feeling your role switch as his hand flew into your hair, pulling you closer. Soft and tender, the kiss was slow, almost fragile, often broken as he nibbled on your bottom lips before joining your mouth for another kiss. 

As the moment passed, you broke the embrace, realizing that you just kissed your friend. Your favorite friend.  

“ I’m done “ You finally said, taking a few steps back. Trying to act like nothing happened.  

“ I’m really grateful, thank you “ He smiled. Getting up, already taking the broom before  sweeping the floor in a large strike. His usual friendly behavior, back. Trying as much as you, to act like he didn’t just taste the sweetness of your lips. 

“ I will help you clean, “ You said. 

“ Y/n, it’s okay, I swear. Go read your book, look it’s already finish” He stopped you, already putting the chopped hair in the trash. “ I really appreciate it, thank you “ 

As you leave the room, your book under your arm, you weren't truly sure if he was thanking you for the hair cut or the kiss.     

As time passed, it became a ritual for you to cut Sanji hair when needed. In exchange, even if you had protested many times that he didn’t have to repay you in any kind. He had learned, with Nami you easily guessed. To do many hairdos. Braiding your hair on hot days, practical ponytail for hard work or some elaborated buns for rainy ones. Your friendship was still going strong even if the memory was still vivid in both of your heads and often kept you awake, wondering. 

As for Sanji, something, as the night is quiet and he keeps himself busy in the kitchen. He couldn’t help himself to think about your soft lips against his and sigh. Hoping one day have another taste of your sweet kisses. 

---

A/N : I know that the end seem a little bit sad, but as I was writing it, I have the thought that it could be a good Prequel for The Small Favor (18+) . I like the idea the dynamic of Y/N and Sanji are like exchanging favors as token of their love. Yes, no, maybe ?

If you have ideas of other favor I could write, let me know please. I could maybe write more for that serie, I don't know.

[mothduchess]

Kitsune HRT Part 3

Doors, are fucking,

TERRIFYING.

The office was unassuming by itself, yet the details spoke behind the facade's back, hinting to a truer nature. A nick upon the doorplate, how it could be pushed easily from any point on its towering height, or how dirt prints came in more varieties than just shoes. Snap! My gaze scampered upwards. The sun gazed unflinchingly from high above gazing through its mantle of clouds; it weighed like a crown with all of its aching heat. "I wonder how it'd feel with fur," I mused, before turning my gaze back to the office's doorway. I... couldn't distract myself for long. All that research I had done, the pep talk with my friends, they made it very clear: the first visit was the worst of them all. But like anything good and necessary, it still felt larger than it was. I could feel myself take a step back for just a moment. And then I stopped. The words of the kind man from before, and his quiet push to bring me to this place, they rang in my head as a gentle bell. Thoughts of her returned to my mind - my hands unconsciously went over my heart, head rolled to the side. I started to breathe. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. The door gave way to a refreshing reprieve an an audience of chairs. "Barely anyone else here... suppose it *is* a work day." The few merits of unemployment aside, it did make me feel still ever so uneasy. I couldn't help it! And it wasn't just fear either. Looking to my side, I saw the wounds upon the wall, infamously left by one of the most notable patients. Those pictures were how I knew this place even existed, and now here I was caught in the wake of it all. I passed the healing plaster patch and shuffled towards the counter. A slight woman greeted me with a smile. "How can I help you?" "I'm here for... um, I think his name was Herian?" "Oh, Dr. Herian. Did you schedule a visit?" "Yes. Uh, it's under-" "Here it is. Miss Wild?" Her pleasant smile set me at ease. I simply gave a nod. "Just sit down, it won't take any time." I sat down. Names, are a tricky thing during transition. You're constantly confronted by them throughout the process. Modern society asks you what you are through your name, but what if you don't know? What if you wished you didn't need one? Right now, my appearance didn't speak for itself but already so many people just called me the truth: "Fox". It wasn't a name, but it was me. I'd gone through earlier versions; Wild was just a nickname that I enjoyed better than the one I buried states away. And maybe this one would meet the same fate. Her voice flittered upon the air. I knew the routine, and followed my part. If the front door was merely daunting, though, the door of Dr. Herian's was something *else*. Not by the door's fault. It was entirely the man inside responsible. A man no younger than 40 sat behind a heavy desk bolted to the floor gazed right through me as I came through, his gaze shielded by thick spectacles. Only wisps of hair decorated his scalp with a bush rounding the rest and sitting over his lips. Theodore Herian was the stern face of the entire program, a genius amongst his field and a veritable boogeyman to the community. Wordlessly I sat before him in the tiny chair provided, shuffling to cut a smaller figure. "Miss..." his eyes glanced at the file before him, "Wild. According to my schedule, you're here on behalf of the Humanity Removal Therapy?" "Correct." "Mh. I see. Specifically.... ah, right. Kitsune, which involves a variant of vulpinestin. We do have the medication-" Here it comes. "-but have you been living as a fox for years, now?" "For as long as I knew what thought was." "Yes sir. I've been presenting as a fox publicly for a while now, both online and in person." Physical visits were so much more stressful than the online consultations my first transition brought with it. And the questions he asked, I felt as if he was investigating the fiber of my being. Pouring water upon glass to find any sign of the slightest crack. "To be clear, what you're asking for-"

"Practically begging for." "-is the kitsune type, not the standard North American Red Fox. This comes with more than just tails. Even more so than other HRT medications, the kitsune comes with notable side effects. Illusions, fire, s..." The voice filtered out. I knew what I was getting into, and I knew to some they'd misinterpret why. 'That I just wanted the powers' or 'it'd be okay if you were just a fox'. I might be a vixen, a creature of cunning and sneering grins - but I wasn't some kind of plotting mastermind! My fingers pinched the sweatpants I came by today in with frustration twisting under the skin. The irritation ran like wax, my mouth pulled into the faint signs of an oncoming sneer. I would be a beautiful vixen even if it killed me. Not for any reason other than to ring in a new spring. "I'll do this. I'm right here. It's almost the-" "MISS. Wild.... Good. You're back. Did you hear what I said?" I gave a flustered nod, which he responded with an exasperated sigh. "Then, I would like to be the first to thank you for coming here, and to let you know - you may pick up your medication at your chosen pharmacy." He handed over a pamphlet that felt as precious as gold in my fingers. For moments, I was on autopilot. Step Step Step Step At some point I recall bidding a polite farewell to the receptionist? But my mind was a buzzing hurricane of thoughts, a whirl of actions. Petals honey gold silk cars sirens light heat skin sweat lock key ho-! My door clicked behind me, the vacancy greeting me warmly. The bag crumpled underneath my fingers. And when I heard that rattle? The light kissing the bottle and coming out changed as an amber gold nectar that seeped into the floor? I wept, and delighted sounds of a fox escaped my throat. Kitsune HRT: Week 1 OH MY GODS OH MY GODS I HAVE THE MEDICINE, AAAAAA -No changes yet. First pills, but so stoked. -Gods I felt I was going to die in that office. -Thank the fucks I do not have oh HELLS. -....I hope I end up fluffy

--------------------------------------------------------------------- <PREV FIRST NEXT>

[cloudbug08]

Nervous II

Carl Grimes x fem!reader

AN: both Carl and the reader are 14/15, as I’m currently on s4 and that’s his age around that season.

I’m completely fine with adults reading this, just don’t be weird in the comments or request any nsfw work of Carl because he’s a child and so am I, I don’t feel comfortable involving myself with that sort of content.

TW: angst, the SA scene in e16 of season 4 but I altered it, canon typical violence

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Your boots wedged into the grooves of the train track, a new pair that Rick had kindly picked up for you when looting a house not far off the tracks

Listening attentively as Carl rattled on about how they had all survived so far.

You tilted your head at him, laughing louder than you ever had since this whole mess started

“You ate a whole tub of chocolate pudding?”

Your cheeks reddened as you giggled, Carl fixed his hat lower over his eyes, embarrassed.

“Yeah? What’s the big deal?”

“I don’t know, it’s not even that funny”

You kept laughing, eventually Carl joined in, snickering as he sat across from you, picking at dried grass.

Rick hollered, calling the two of you over

“We’ll have to get going now, don’t have much time until dark”

And so you moved, trekked through the forest until you came to a clearing, a van parked in the centre.

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆

Dinner passed in pleasant silence, before long you were yawing, your head rolling on your shoulders, Michonne urged you into the back seat of the van for a well earned rest, Carl following not long after.

You drifted off with Carl sat next to you.

You violently jerked awake when a hand slammed against the window, squirming and struggling as the man grabbed you and threw you on the leaved ground.

Tossing Carl down next to you, he leaned over your friend and all you could do was watch, wait and watch as Carl endured the same fate as you, something snapped.

A deep ridden need to not allow the same trauma to befall your only friend.

You rushed up, shoving you body against the big man, pushing him off of Carl, you peered back at the boy, attempting to usher him a way, make a run for it, anything, but he stayed frozen, eyes wide.

Your abrupt attempt to distract the man has worked, now focused on you, you struggled, kicking you boot out at Carl’s leg, you whisper to him

“Carl, run”

Through his shocked stupor he shakes his head

“I’ll be fine, go”

He still laid there, seemingly frozen like you were moments ago, you gritted your teeth, wetness pooling in your lower eyelids as the man hitched up your nightdress, you whimpered, looking over you shoulder, where Rick and Michonne were knelt, they were both peering over, Rick’s teeth were clenched in fury, Michonne’s eyes pooled with tears.

You let out a cry, looking to your friend, his face cast in a look of horror, then you remembered, Carl saved you that day, and you’d be damned if you let that go to waste.

Reaching for your outer thigh and pulling a hunters knife from a holster Michonne had lent you, letting out a shout as you lifted the knife and pushed it into the man’s neck, avoiding any main arteries, this bastard would die slow.

Blood spurted out into your face, pushing the man off of you, wrenching the knife out of his neck, before repeatedly tearing into him, Standing after you were sure he was dead, your knife clattered against the ground, you collapsed with it, reaching for Carl.

You howled into his shoulder as he shook with you

“Why didn’t you run”

You moaned, your voice clogged with agony

“You should have run, I was trying to repay you”

His breath hitched

“I wasn’t going to leave you”

He started weeping with you, neither of you looked up when Michonne skidded on the dry dirt path, wrapping her arms around you both, pressing you tight into her chest, she rubbed a hand over your shoulder, leaning down to both of you, she cooed.

“You did so well, so well”

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Chapter three will be uploaded very soon! Please comment if you would like to be put on my taglist or would like to ask any questions, reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[dnsisnakah]

I KNOW IT'S CAN BE WEIRD BUTTT

hear me out...

some thoughts about... chocolate have been feverishly dancing in my head for several days now.

imagine how you or Alex go to the store and your trips never end without chocolate.

and one day, Alex sits calmly on the living room couch, idly flipping through the TV channels while you return home with a couple of shopping bags. the guy jumps up from the comfortable pillows and steps towards the hallway, brushes his sweet lips over yours with a soft kiss - as if distracting you from the fact that he is literally taking the bags from you - and goes to the kitchen. you trail behind him, whining softly, “Alex, I can carry it myself.” but he just chuckles, arranging the food on the kitchen unit.

- oh, again that chocolate bar you took last week? -

- yeah, you said it was delicious, so I took one.. and by the way.. - you fall silent for a moment, wrapping your arms around the guy’s waist from behind. your face nuzzles into Alex’s shoulder as he just chuckles, continuing to put away the groceries. - let's try something.

___

now you're sitting comfortably on the kitchen counter, your arms wrapped around your boyfriend's shoulders as he presses your hips into the small of his back. your tongues dance around the small piece of chocolate as you alternately hum against each other’s lips.

kiss with chocolate? the rules are quite simple.

just kiss until the piece you have chosen completely melts in your mouths. You can’t swallow it or push it down another’s throat, there are no winners or losers here.

your hands gently massage Alex's shoulders as a quiet moan escapes his throat and you move your hands higher - to the back of his head through his neck. deft fingers bury themselves in soft black strands of hair, bringing its owner to another groan. men’s hands squeeze the skin of your thighs more tightly, pulling you as close to him as possible, and now it’s your turn to whine from the knot in your stomach that put such pleasant pressure on your whole body with every physical contact.

the guy pulls away for just a second, and his breathing already sounds like he's run a marathon for a few blocks. a thin bridge of saliva mixed with chocolate sags between you, or rather, your lips. but it doesn't stay for long, a second and it breaks, leaving a coolness on your lips. Alex smirks, opening his mouth with the fucking wet sound and showing the remains of the chocolate on his tongue, as if inviting you to continue.

- come on, mi vida, it's only the first round.

[requests are open if anyone want... :3]

[whumpsoda]

creeps in what if Nevan feels ugly and Adrastus personally takes him aside and thralls the behavior into blissful oblivion—it’s the only time they’ve stepped in on giving Nevan an actual permanent order/influence rather than just temporary stuff

WOHEO Masterlist

cw: hypnosis, conditioning, self degradation, intimate whumper

———————————————————————

“And what might you be doing?”

Nevan jumped, turning to find his second vampire owner heading down the hall in his direction, a joyous smile strung across their lips. Their tone was playful, yet didn’t fail to hitch his nerves.

“I… I, um…” he stumbled, catching himself staring as they sauntered up, and shifting his gaze to the floor. He did his best to compose his scattered thoughts, gesturing to the wall beside him. “Just… just looking. At myself.”

“Aw, at your pretty little face?” Adrastus cooed, gazing alongside him into the reflection of a mirror, sweetly pinching his cheek.

Nevan smiled back, expression forced and failing to meet his eyes. “I… I guess…”

“You guess?”

“Well, um…” What was he doing? He shouldn’t have even stopped, taking time away from his household work, and then daring to annoy them with his meager problems. Stupid, stupid, stupid. “I’m, I’m sorry Master, I’ll continue my chores, my apologies for… for getting distracted.”

Before he could scamper off, they caught him with a hand to his shoulder. “Hey.” They turned him back their way, pressing another palm to the other arm, keeping him from fleeing. “Darling, remember what I told you?”

“Remember…” his words became tainted with that of a hazy quality as he attempted to recall the memory, mind dazing by even the subtlest of their pleasant touch.

Of course, Adrastus already knew he was far too dumb to remember on his own. “You tell Master what’s on your mind or if anything is the matter, alright? Understand?”

“Tell… Master…” he mumbled, brain liquifying as he so easily slipped back into the trance they had previously held him in.

“Yes, dear.”

But he couldn’t tell them. What if they thought it was dumb, or they got upset for him worrying them with something so meaningless? Nevan couldn’t bear to get them upset. “Um… I suppose… I just…”

“Take your time, baby. I will gladly wait.” They assured, shining that heart warming, sweet grin of theirs that pulsed bliss through his brain.

“It’s just… my master always says how pretty I look… an’ how nice my features are… Malak, uh, Malak even said… so…” Why was it so hard to say? The words refused to leave his lips, his cheeks flushing with embarrassed heat. “But…”

“Go on.” The pressed.

One more time, he took a glance into the mirror. Staring into his own eyes, taking note of every feature and blemish.

Nevan bit his lip. “He tells me all that… but I don’t feel very pretty.”

Then, their face dropped.

He couldn’t look. He’d definitely upset them, they were probably so angry. “I’m, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He cried, the beat of his heart picking up pace and jumping inside his chest.

He’d disagreed with his master, and they were going to hurt him, he just knew it.

After a beat of silence and no response, no violence, he peeked a look at the vampire.

Their face was contorted into that of a genuine pout, eyes welling up. Almost as if they were going to cry. “Oh, love… how dreadful.”

“I’m, I’m sorry.” He stuttered, tears pricking at his own eyes as well. “I’m so sorry, Master. I don’t mean to be so bad.”

Adrastus shook their head. “Oh no, baby. Don’t you apologize for that, there is absolutely nothing for you to be sorry for.” The grip of their hands only hardened, clutching to his arms. The touch felt good.

“I’m sorry that you would ever feel such a way.” They whispered.

After a minute of deep quiet, Adrastus took a long and thick breath, returning their composure and wiping the moisture from their eyes.

“Just calm, okay? Relax. Everything’s just fine. No reason to get so worked up.” They soothed, almost as if more so to themself than Nevan. Taking the chance to pacify the thrall themself, Adrastus hit him with a singular magical wash of bliss that fizzled out any distress in one sigh of air.

As his vision turned glassy, he meet their caring gaze that fluttered saccharine in his belly. “Now, Nevan. Listen to me.”

“Mmm… hmmm…?” He hummed, brain liquifying to ooze as they churned sensations of pleasure throughout him.

“Sweet, you are utterly beautiful inside and out. Absolutely and completely gorgeous.” Their tone was kind and mellow, mollifying to his ears. Easy for him to digest. “Repeat that for me, okay?”

“Nevan… ‘s beau… beautifulll…” he slurred, recognizing at least a bit of the speech as his lips faintly upturned. “Gorgeousss…”

“You think so too, don’t you? You do, Nevan.” The words flipped through his mind, soaked up like a sponge and plastered to the walls of his head. They said so, so he thought so.

“Think… too…”

“Only bad, naughty boys think such terrible thoughts. You want to be a good boy. Good boys think nice, happy thoughts about themselves. Nevan thinks pleasantly about himself.”

They were right. Adrastus was always right. Nevan wanted to be a good boy. And if good boys thought good things… then he would too. Simple as that. “Nice… thoughts…”

They patted him to the cheek, and as the contact lingered he nuzzled into their fingers. “Good, good boy. Such an alluring, ravishing boy. Simply fetching.”

Nevan couldn’t help but giggle, his usual, dopey smile returning. “Fetch… fetching…”

“Yes, darling. Don’t you ever forget it, alright?”

Nevan nodded along, eagerly. “Yes… no… forget…”

“If you ever begin to forget, come right to master, okay? But always know that you are no short of bewitching, love. Do not allow anyone to tell you otherwise.”

Before they finished, Adrastus leaned in for a moment, voice softening, hushed and low. “Not even Master Darius.”

“Oh… ‘kay…”

Fingers washed down his frame until they lingered at his knuckles, the vampire brushing in circular motions over his skin with soft thumbs. “Now look back at that charming face in the mirror. Magnificent, isn’t he?”

This time, as Nevan met with himself, he only beamed brighter. “Mhm… yeah…”

They filled his mind with glee as they gave him a similar look of satisfaction. Oh, how he loved them.

“I am so very glad you agree.”

———————————————————————

Taglist- @softvampirewhump @iys-cloud @battyfantasy @xx-adam-xx @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @mylifeisonthebookshelf

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[darylas]

Chapter 3 - Ghost of a Chance

John "Bucky" Egan x singer!fem!reader first ♫ previous ♫ next ao3

You go on a double date to distract yourself from thoughts of Bucky, a task made more difficult when he is sitting in the same pub.

4.2k words

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Non-consensual use of drugs, Attempted sexual assault, Mild violence

Disclaimer: Most of the characters mentioned are based on the dramatic portrayal featured in the Masters of the Air limited series, not the actual historical figures they represent.

A/N: Please read the warnings! MAJOR tone shift coming in from the north. I promise next chapter will be lighter!

“So, how long have you been in merry old England?”

“Less than a month, though it doesn’t feel that way,” you answered, swiping your thumb across the condensation that had formed quickly on your glass in the humidity of the pub. You were sat across from Lieutenant Tom Foyle, a pilot in the 351st. His dark hair was styled neatly with pomade, his handsome face clean-shaven. Next to you sat Millicent “Millie” Vance, another Red Cross girl who had somehow roped you into being one-fourth of a double date. 

“Oh? Does it feel longer or shorter?” Tom asked. He seemed genuinely interested in your answer, as he had with everything you’d said that evening. He had kind, curious green eyes that made you feel like the only person in the room. 

You looked down at your glass, half empty. “Both. Neither. To be completely honest I’m not quite sure. The work gets so repetitive that time seems to stand still some days, but other times it feels as though the clock is ticking faster than a runaway train. I suppose there’s nothing like war to make time feel rather short.” You gave Tom a reassuring smile, ending your little monologue before it grew any more depressing and soured the whole evening. “Sorry,” you said, holding up your glass. “It appears that gin makes me a tad melancholy.” 

The blond pilot sitting across from Millie spoke up. “That’s funny, it makes me giddy. Of course, that could just be our present company.” He leaned forward, addressing Millie. “I told Tom that you had to be the prettiest girl this side of the ocean.” 

Millie grinned and replied, “Glad we’re not on the other side of the ocean, then,” causing the pilot, Dan, to let out a surprised wheeze of laughter.

While Dan continued his boisterous flirting, saying something about Millie having wit as well as looks, Tom leaned toward you, filling your nostrils with the pleasant scent of his aftershave. He smirked and said in a low voice, “I believe his exact words to me were, ‘What a dish!’.” 

You chuckled softly, pleasantly surprised that you were actually enjoying yourself. “I suppose we can’t all be Humphrey Bogart.”

“Sure, we can.” Tom cocked his head slightly to the side and spoke with Bogart’s deep and gravelly voice. “We’ll always have Paris.”

You laughed as he sat back in his chair with a smile. “You saw Casablanca?” you asked him.

“Yep, right before flying over. I’d go see movies whenever I could.” He huffed a quiet laugh. “Used to think I could be an actor. Wouldn’t that be something? Seeing yourself on the big screen?” He certainly had the looks for it. 

“Maybe after the war, you could pursue an acting career. I’m sure Hollywood would snatch you right up.” Tom smiled bashfully at the compliment. “I actually wanted to be in movies myself when I was younger. Particularly musicals. I’m not much of a dancer but hell, neither is Bing Crosby, and he gets away with it.” You took another sip of gin, inwardly wincing. It was stronger than the drinks you normally favored, but Dan had ordered a round for the table. You had never liked when a man ordered food or drink for a woman, but you didn’t want to embarrass Millie by declining. 

“I’d see your films over Bing’s any day,” responded Tom, who managed to combine flirtation and authenticity with such ease that you were beginning to feel skeptical. You couldn’t help but glance toward the back of the pub, where Major Egan had been sitting with some of the other men for the past hour. You were surprised to find him looking right back at you. He gave you a small smile and a subtle nod. No wink, no devilish grin. Curious. Reflexively, you smiled back, then looked away. 

Much to your annoyance, John Egan had begun to appear in your thoughts almost regularly and uninvited. Ever since that night at the club, he had gotten under your skin like a persistent itch. An egotistical, irritating, handsome, intriguing itch. You kept these thoughts to yourself, as you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his asinine attempt to insult you into a conversation almost worked. By the same token, you were still wary of him, knowing his track record with women. 

You knew, not so deep down, that you had agreed to come on this double date to distract yourself and perhaps meet someone else to occupy your thoughts. Someone like Tom, who picked up his glass and said, “To our Tinseltown dreams, then.” 

You clinked your glass with his and said, “To Bing Crosby and his two left feet.” 

Millie spoke up. “You know, our Red Cross canary here sings an old Bing song just beautifully. The one from that short with Mary Kornman. Anyone who’s ever made coffee and doughnuts with this one in the morning has heard her sing it.” 

You shrugged one shoulder. “Anything to distract me from throwing that blasted doughnut machine out the window. I swear, my poor old Zippo is more reliable than that thing.”

“I thought you said your lighter doesn’t work anymore,” said Millie. 

“Exactly,” you replied, to the laughter of your companions. 

Tom, with laughter still in his voice, looked at you and said, “I’d sure love to hear you sing it sometime. After all, when some bigshot movie producer calls to ask me about your talents, I want to give him an accurate description.”

Dan scoffed. “Why would a movie producer call you about her?”

Tom lightly smacked his friend on the shoulder. “Why would anyone call you about anything?”

Dan’s blond mustache twitched as he smirked. “You’re hilarious. Anybody ever tell you what a gasser you are?”

There was a brief pause, during which your traitorous eyes suddenly flicked back to that table in the back of the pub. Major Egan was not looking at you this time, his attention currently fixed on his friend Lieutenant Curtis Biddick while he seemed to be mimicking various boxing forms. Egan laughed and hollered with the rest of the men at the table. He looked younger when he laughed, less like a commanding officer and more like a carefree young man. You assumed he shouldered a great many cares, and that the weight of them would only increase as the war continued. The humidity of the pub had caused a few curls to come loose over his forehead, the fire behind him giving his skin a warm glow.

“I’m sure the pianist knows it,” said Millie, breaking you out of what you could only describe as a trance before the Major caught you staring.

“Knows what?” you asked, praying to high heaven you weren’t blushing.

 “The song! You could sing it here!” 

“Oh, Millie, please. Most of these boys hear far too much of my caterwauling back at base. They come here to get away from that. Besides, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m in the middle of a date.” You gestured between yourself and Tom. 

Tom smiled. “As much as I’m enjoying said date, I think the one thing it’s missing is a beautiful song sung by a beautiful lady. And I think all the guys in here would agree with me.” 

“I don’t think they would-”

“What, you want me to take a poll?” asked Millie, teasingly. “Dan, sweetie, would you mind?”

Alright, maybe she wasn’t teasing. Dan stood up and shouted, “Gentlemen! Who wants to hear our 100th canary sing us a song?” His question was answered with a chorus of affirmative shouts and whistles from around the pub. 

Tom looked at you and grinned. “Sounds like you better head over there.”

You grinned back and let out a resigned huff of breath before standing up. “I suppose orders are orders, Lieutenant.”

═════ ♫ ═════

Bucky heard your laughter from across the pub. His eyes immediately turned towards you as the sound reached him, his instincts taking over before his thoughts could catch up. He’d seen you walk in with one of the pilots in the 351st, decked out and chatting with Millie Vance. You were smiling at that pilot now; not the plastered-on, rehearsed, all-American smile he had grown used to seeing at Thorpe Abbotts. This was the real thing, and it was beautiful. What would he give to be the reason for that smile? To be the one to make you laugh like that?

He would fly through a thousand miles of flak. 

Bucky rubbed a hand over his face. He might just be the most pathetic man in the entire fucking world. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he was so keen on someone. You had to be some sort of siren, luring him out to sea with your alluring voice, only to drag him down, down, down, to the depths of the ocean. He was surprised to find he didn’t mind. With a barely concealed smirk, he realized that being eaten alive by you would not be a terrible way to die. 

You had glanced his way once or twice, no doubt feeling his eyes on you. He had tried to look away, to focus on the stories told around the table, but he simply couldn’t help himself. His gaze kept falling back on you. He had never seen you without your Red Cross uniform, and the dress you were wearing had clearly been custom-designed to drive him crazy.

Bucky was grateful for Curt’s loud voice and enthusiasm as he talked about boxing. The distraction was a welcome one, though he supposed that you were the true distraction in this case and not the other way around. 

“I can’t believe Buck didn’t come,” said Curt, finishing off his whiskey. “He knows exactly what I’m talkin’ about. The high guard stance ain’t shit in the ring. It’s all about-”

“Gentlemen!” called a voice from across the pub. “Who wants to hear our 100th canary sing us a song?” The place was filled with the sound of whoops and hollers from nearly every table. Bucky watched you grin at your date–Foyle–and stand up before walking to the piano.

Curt didn’t miss a beat before saying, “Uh oh. Look out boys, you might see Bucky cry. The music really gets to’m.”

“Yeah, the music’s lookin’ like a solid sender in that dress,” said Hambone, earning a round of laughter from the table. 

Bucky smiled good-naturedly, used to the ribbing at this point. “Alright, alright, laugh it up. Since when is a guy not allowed to appreciate a beautiful dame, huh?”

"Bucky, you've been eyeing her all night," Jack interjected. "You stare at her more than Douglass stares at that photo of Betty Grable he keeps in his pocket." Another round of laughs. Bucky took a long sip of whiskey as Curt patted him on the back with a grin.

He watched you lean down to speak softly to the pianist before standing up straight and clearing your throat. “Don’t you boys hear enough of me as it is? I don’t know what’s gotten into you; well, I suppose I have some idea,” you said, tapping your nail against someone’s glass to make a plinking sound. The crowd laughed, many raising their drinks. “I’m going to sing an old song, but I asked my new friend Alan here to keep it short. I have a drink of my own I’d like to get back to.”

Next to him, Curt laughed before leaning over and saying, “She might be too much of a firecracker for your sorry ass.” Bucky elbowed him in the arm, making him laugh harder. As the pianist started playing a slow, pleasant melody, Curt leaned in again and said, “Or…she just might be perfect for your sorry ass.” Bucky furrowed his brow and turned his head to look at his friend, who smirked and shrugged. “What? I get sappy when I drink.” Bucky didn’t have time to reply before you began to sing.

I need your love so badly

I love you, oh, so madly

But I don't stand a

Ghost of a chance with you

You sauntered between the tables as you sang, the patrons smiling up at you. Bucky preferred when you sang slower songs like this one, the drawn-out notes more sensuous and poignant. As you came within ten feet of his table, you stopped moving. Your eyes met his and lingered for a moment as you continued your song. He was spellbound.

I thought at last I'd found you

But other loves surround you

And I don't stand a

Ghost of a chance with you

You walked back to the piano, leaning elegantly against it as you finished the last line of the song. Applause rang throughout the pub and you nodded graciously before shouting, “How about my new friend, our amazing pianist, Mr. Alan Bennett?” The applause and shouts continued as you said “Thank you; enjoy your evening,” then headed back to your seat. 

When Bucky saw you smile once again, genuinely, at Foyle, the spell was broken. No, he hadn’t been on the receiving end of that smile yet, but your shared moment just now gave him a glimpse of hope. You had looked at him differently then, not with contempt or that devastating neutrality from before, but with something else.

Christ, he really was pathetic, knowing that look would be all he thought about for the rest of the night. He deserved the boys’ ragging, as well as another glass of whiskey.

═════ ♫ ═════

You listened to Millie tell an amusing story about an old neighbor back home as you finished your drink. Even though you weren’t currently talking, you noticed Tom stealing frequent glances at you. You smiled encouragingly at him before fanning yourself with a napkin, the heat in the pub somehow having gotten worse. 

As Millie continued her story, your thoughts drifted to Major Egan. When your eyes met his grey ones during the song, you were struck by the tenderness and reverence in his gaze. He hadn’t looked at you like a prize, like an object to be used until he grew bored of it. You had held that gaze for longer than you intended; it didn’t change, but you felt like you did. 

For that brief moment, no more than five seconds, you were no longer in the pub, but somewhere else entirely. You weren’t sure exactly where you were during this momentary lapse of reality, but you knew you had gotten there through his eyes. You had always heard of getting lost in someone’s eyes, but in that moment, you didn’t feel lost. Instead, you felt as though you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Perhaps you had been too quick to judge him.

Perhaps you should get to know him better.

Perhaps it had just been a man watching a woman while she sang. 

All of these confusing thoughts were beginning to give you a headache. 

In fact, the noise of the pub seemed to grow louder by the second, and the lights seemed to get brighter. You squinted. 

“Honey, are you alright?” asked Millie. You hadn’t realized she’d stopped talking. You gave her a reassuring smile.

“Yes, yes I’m fine. I think the crowded room is getting to me. I might need to step outside for a moment; get some fresh air.” You scooted your chair away from the table.

Both men stood as you did so. Tom pushed in his chair and came around to your side of the table, looking concerned. “Can I accompany you outside? I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“Of course. I’d appreciate it, actually.” You looked at Millie. “We’ll be right back.”

As you stood up, you lost your balance and braced your hands on the table, causing the legs to make a loud noise as they shifted. You flushed with embarrassment as multiple patrons looked in your direction, some sniggering to each other. Millie put a delicate hand on your arm. “Are you sure you’re alright? I think we need to head back.”

You waved her off. “No, no, I’m fine. I’m fine. I just stood up too fast. A few minutes of fresh air and I’ll be good as new. Don’t you dare move; this is your one night out. I’m fine.”

Millie continued to look at you with skepticism and concern, but Tom offered you his arm and you took it, walking toward the front of the pub with slow, deliberate steps. 

Suddenly, you were outside the pub, still holding on tight to Tom’s arm. You breathed in the night air, hoping it would clear your head. It didn’t. 

“Feel any better?” asked Tom. 

You looked at him and were alarmed to see that you were no longer outside the front entrance, but alone with him around the side of the building. You couldn’t remember how you got there, but Tom’s arm was still in your grasp. You continued to cling to it, as your dizziness had gotten worse and you were afraid you might fall flat on your face if you let go. 

“No, I….don’t,” you answered, having difficulty forming the words. This sudden ailment was clearly something that needed more than fresh air to fix, and you knew it was time to call it a night. Could you really be this drunk? Yes, the gin had been stronger than what you normally drank, but you only had one glass.

Tom looked at you with concern. “I’m so sorry. Are you feeling well enough for the trip back? It would probably be safer to book you a room for the night.” He stroked the back of your hand with his thumb. 

“I think I’d like to…to go back to base and get in bed.”

“Is that an invitation?” he asked softly, brushing the backs of his fingers down your bare arm.

“Nnnn…no.” The pain in your head was worsening, your mind telling you that you needed to leave. Now. 

Tom spoke your name, his voice still soft. “I think that you and I go together so well. You’re incredibly witty, charming, and so lovely.” You felt him stroke the side of your face. You went to push his hand away, but it was gone when you lifted your hand to your face. “I’m curious to see if our compatibility goes beyond the conversational level, aren’t you?”

When you looked at him again, your head spinning with the effort, his handsome face still held the same charm and sincerity from before. 

“Tom, I want to leave. Right now!” You wrenched yourself free from his grasp and turned toward the street. Your movements had been too sudden and you stumbled forward, haphazardly throwing your hands out to avoid falling on your face. You closed your eyes and braced for the feeling of asphalt on your palms, but it never came. When you opened your eyes, you saw the dark olive drab of a military uniform and felt strong arms around you. Of course Tom had easily caught you. You prepared to scream for help—

“The hell is going on out here?” 

The person who’d caught you hadn’t been Tom. It was that major. He stood with you still limp in his arms, Millie close behind him looking panicked. 

He looked at you, then at Tom, then back at you, his expression quickly morphing from confusion to alarm. You must have been quite a sight. 

With urgency in his voice, he spoke your name. “Are you alright? What’s the matter?”

You stood up, another wave of dizziness crashing over you as Millie rushed to help you. “I think I’m…quite unwell, Mister…sorry, Major…” You looked at him quizzically, his name escaping you. Why couldn’t you think of his name? His face had been in your thoughts constantly over the past few days. 

The man reluctantly removed his arms from around you and allowed Millie to support you. “It’s Bucky. But you still only call me Major Egan, remember?” He looked terribly worried, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to address it. Your only concern right now was getting away from Tom and into bed. You were so tired. When you didn’t respond to him, stumbling once more into Millie, his expression changed again to one of fury. He turned toward Tom, who had begun inching his way out of sight. 

Bucky moved fast enough to exacerbate your dizziness, grabbing Tom by the lapels of his jacket and shoving him against the wall. “You put somethin’ in her drink? Did you do this to her?” The quiet, menacing calm of his voice was a stark contrast to his violent actions. 

Tom had the good sense to look frightened for a moment, before flashing his handsome smile at the seething major. “I was just offering to escort her back to base,” he said. “Clearly the poor thing can’t take her liquor. I didn’t do a damn thing to her drink.”

“Like hell you didn’t,” replied Bucky, before he let go of Tom’s jacket and punched him in the face. Hard. Millie shrieked.

Tom fell to the ground in a graceless heap, his nose bleeding and misshapen. Putting a hand up to his nose, he yelled, “What the hell was-”

“You need to get the fuck out of here right now or your nose won’t be the only thing I break tonight.” Bucky’s fist was clenched, blood on the knuckles. Tom scrambled away and was soon out of sight. 

Bucky turned back toward you and Millie. “She needs to see a doctor,” he said to your friend. 

Millie let out a sigh and replied with a tired voice. “No, she doesn’t; not right now anyway.”

Bucky gestured furiously at you. “Look at her!” You frowned and looked away.

Millie spoke with a cold gravity you had never heard from her before. “I see her, Bucky, and unfortunately, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen something like this. I know how to help, and I’m taking her back to base. Her symptoms should be gone tomorrow, but she needs rest.” 

Bucky said nothing for several seconds, then pinched the bridge of his nose. He said quickly, “Alright. Fine. But if anything, anything, seems off, you take her straight to Smokey, understand?” 

“I understand. I’ll take her tomorrow, just to make sure everything’s okay.” Millie began leading you toward the front of the building and the street, with Bucky following close behind. Eventually you were back in front of the pub.

Bucky looked at you, began to reach toward you, then put his hand in his pocket. “Let me take you home. Or would a room here be better?”

You stiffened.

“Excuse me?” you said, your head pounding.

Bucky looked taken aback at your sudden tone. “I just wondered if it would be better for you to get a room here for the night so you can rest.”

Son of a bitch. 

You pointed a finger at his chest, missing and poking his shoulder. “You. Is this what you wanted?”

Bucky furrowed his brow and shook his head. “What are you talking about? You think I wanted this to happen?”

“I saw you. I saw you looking at us…looking at mm..me. Was this part of your plan?”

Millie, who had her arm looped through yours, put a hand on your shoulder and said, “Honey, I know you’re confused, it’s not your f-”

“Did you think that you would play the knight in shining armor and that...that I would fall into your arms, overcome with- with gratitude? You thought I would g..go to bed with you?” Bucky shook his head vehemently and opened his mouth to speak, but you kept going. “I knew it. I knew that a dance would never just be a dance with you. I knew it.” You swayed, but Millie tightened her hold on you and you stayed upright. “I knew it,” you said to her. 

She rubbed your back soothingly. “Okay, honey. Let’s get you in bed, alright?” She turned to Bucky and spoke so quietly you couldn’t hear her over the noise of the music inside. You watched as Bucky nodded, his lips pressed tightly together. He looked back at you, nothing but concern in his eyes. But that’s how Tom had looked.

Fighting the pain at the front of your skull and the increasing urge to vomit in the nearest waste bin, you let go of Millie’s arm and took a wobbly step toward him. He removed his hands from his pockets, ready to catch you again, but you stayed upright. You said to him in a low voice, “I think you’re despicable.” The major said nothing, still watching you with the same worried look on his face. Inside the pub, you heard the pianist start playing “Blue Skies”, followed by at least two shouts of Bucky’s name. “Sounds like you’re missing your ‘signature song,’ Major. Please, don’t let me keep you.” 

With that, you allowed Millie to once again wind her arm through yours and lead you away from the pub, hopefully on a path toward your bed. She sighed. “Don’t worry, I told him you didn’t mean a word you said.” You frowned at her, confused. “I’m so sorry; if I had any idea that Tom was such a…” She sighed again. “Never mind. It does no good to apologize to you now when you won’t remember it. We’ll talk again tomorrow.” 

As you made your way back to your barracks, fighting sleep the whole way, all you could think of was a slow song and two grey eyes staring into yours.

[thissortofsorcery]

@intothedysphoria has inspired me to write about autistic!harringrove, and my own experiences with autism... Max, this is for you! I hope you like it!

tw for anxiety and sensory overwhelm, but it ends fluffy, I promise.

---

It started as a normal day, but it quickly derailed from there.

An asshole at work approached Billy from behind and clapped his hand around the nape of his neck, despite Billy having told him several times he didn’t like that.

Billy didn’t like being touched at all, by most people. And some people had no concept of personal space.

A horrible, painful shiver cut through his spine, icy cold and almost slimy, and Billy held back a shudder. He broke out in goosebumps, and only years and years of practice, of putting on the charm let him pull away from the dickhead graciously, laugh at whatever he said and keep himself together until he could hide away in a bathroom stall.

Billy presses his fingers to his closed eyes hard, seeing stars, and rubs the back of his neck vigorously, trying to replace that cold shiver with something else. Tears spring to his eyes, and he feels so fucking frustrated.

Finding out you’re autistic in your twenties is an experience. A lot of things start making sense, and a lot of things you pushed down and convinced yourself weren’t a problem spring back up like a jack-in-the-box, a hundred times worse.

Like the touch thing. It’s not that Billy doesn’t like being touched. He just doesn’t like being touched by people he doesn’t know, and for no reason.

Like, his physical therapist, when she was helping him regain dexterity in his hands after Starcourt, that was fine.

Some dude in the office touching his neck, even casually, not so much.

Billy takes a deep breath, tries to remember the self-care workbook he and Steve filled out together a couple months ago. Tries to calm down.

Three ways I can distract myself when someone touches me, he’d written, glancing back up at Steve with a smile. Happy they were doing it together.

Loud music + puzzle

Hot drink

Yelling

Steve laughed and shook his head (“it’s very you”) when Billy wrote down the last one, but it really did help.

Billy gives himself a few more moments in the stall before he slinks out, heading to the sinks and splashing cold water on his face. The sensory shock helps a little, the cool, pleasant feeling helping balance the sensation of something crawling under his skin.

He checks if the break room is empty before he goes in, and it thankfully is. He doesn’t want to run into anyone. Doesn’t think he has it in him to mask right now.

Billy makes himself a mug full of scalding hot coffee and hurries back to his office, avoiding eye contact with anyone who throws out a hello. So what if they think he’s angry. Maybe he is pissed.

He manages to spend the rest of the day locked in his office, headphones on, and only comes out when it’s time to go home.

Of course, all he wants is to see Steve, wants his comforting presence, even if they’ve been dating only three months. When he walks through the door of Steve’s house, he sees Steve sitting on the couch, feet up on the coffee table, wearing his ugly vomit green socks with raccoons on them, that he’s had since he was 15 and won’t get rid of.

A wave of relief crashes through him, nearly leaving him dizzy. He breathes deep, catches the smell of his clean house, laundry, and Steve.

“Hey baby,” Steve calls, laying his head on the back of the couch to look at him, making his glasses just a little bit crooked. “Bad day?”

“Does my face look that terrible?” Billy grumbles, taking his shoes off at the entryway before he steps into the living room.

“Your headphones are around your neck,” Steve points to them, a smile ticking up the corner of his mouth.

Oh. Billy forgot to put them away. He doesn’t need them in the car.

He sighs and throws himself down next to Steve, a careful, deliberate distance away.

“I’m just ‘whelmed,” Billy mumbles.

“Overwhelmed?”

“Not anymore. Just whelmed,” He says, sighing again. His body sags, melting against the cushions. He doesn’t feel shivery anymore, but he feels tired, like he’s on the bad end of an all-nighter.

Steve puts his hand on the cushion between them, palm up, not touching Billy.

Billy takes a deep breath, watching Steve’s hand. He knows that hand intimately, knows it to be warm and soft and kind, knows how its skin feels against Billy’s, the friction making the shivers good instead of bad.

He puts a tentative fingertip on Steve’s pointer finger, and all Steve does is press back, smiling gently.

Billy slides his fingers in between Steve’s, laces them together, holds his hand palm to palm, and feels the touch of his skin like they’re buzzing together.

Billy knows he can change his mind, and all Steve’s gonna do is smile, sit on his side of the couch, and continue the conversation.

“How’s that book you were working on going?” Steve asks. He rubs his thumb over the back of Billy’s hand once, and stops. When Billy squeezes his hand, he resumes the movement, sending pleasant tingles up Billy’s arm.

“Good. The writer was receptive to what I said. They sent me a couple reworked chapters today,” Billy says, moving closer to Steve, so their arms press together.

As the conversation goes on, Billy presses closer and closer, at his own pace, and Steve accepts it crumb by crumb.

He doesn’t know what he did to deserve Steve, or how Steve is so patient with him. Steve loves physical contact. Billy does, too, but he’s so particular about it that sometimes he wonders if he’s even worth sticking around for.

Billy ends up lying on top of Steve, chest to chest, nose tucked into his throat, breathing in his warmth and his scent.

“Don’t touch my neck, okay?” He asks, hunching his shoulders a little.

“Yeah, okay,” Steve says, easy as that. “Can I touch your hair?”

“Yeah.”

Steve turns his head and kisses Billy’s head, right on the hairline, pulling a deep, content sigh from him.

“Thanks, Stevie,” Billy says, squeezing his ribs just a little tighter. “For doing this for me. Being patient.”

Steve looks down at him, frowning slightly.

“‘Course. You shouldn’t— You don’t have to thank me,” He says, earnest. “It’s not a chore, Billy. You’re not…” He licks his lips, trying to think. When he looks at Billy, it's like he's telling him a secret. “You make me happy. All of you.”

Billy’s smile is wide, stretching his full lips and showing his teeth, and Billy only drops it so he can kiss Steve.

They keep it chaste, an unhurried, soft press of lips, enjoying their intimacy and their closeness and their familiarity. Simple as it is, it's one of the best kisses he's had. Steve's the best person he's ever met.

When Steve touches him, he feels safe. Billy wants to keep him.