#deciding to do MY laundry is always some sort of production

[bitegore]

I know I'm becoming an adult because now sometimes i get bored and just ???? Load up fucking laundry.

[thehaemanthus]

tangled cable car wires (3/3)

It’s still July 23 where I’m at! 

Delighted to present the final chapter of this fic for the ACOTAR Writing Circle, organized by @azrielshadowssing. Had so much fun doing this event, and learned that I can write passable smut on demand if needed (though I think the readers will be the final judge of that). 

Thank you to @thelovelymadone and @bennylavasbuns​ for setting me up for success with your previous chapters! I hope this last chapter is a happy, sweet, sexy, and most of all funny ending because I can’t hear someone is six foot five inches without shaking my fist at the sky at the inconvenience of living next to such a height

Enjoy!

Elain was soaking wet, exhausted, out 50 bucks because she stupidly hopped into a taxi to escape her nemesis, and, oh yeah, really fucking horny.

She dumped her things just inside the door to her apartment, stripping her clothing there too before hustling to the washing machine. The wet pile of clothes landed on top with a splat.

Getting settled at home kept her mind off of other things. Elain had planned to get some take out, watch a movie or two, light a scented candle and maybe even take a bath. Now she had to start a load of laundry, dry off her work bag and pray nothing was too damaged, take a shower, then make her own dinner.

Not a very auspicious start to her coveted staycation, but maybe she could still fit in the bath. And relax. Relaxation only. No errant thoughts about an inconvenient tall, tanned, red-headed menace who apparently liked her—

Nope! No thoughts about his hands on her ass or the way he had felt between her legs. Strictly off limits.

Maybe she would pen in an appointment with her vibrator after a bubble bath. Orgasms were relaxing, right?

Elain eyed her phone, suspiciously silent after texting her sisters. They had nothing productive to say about her momentary lapse in judgment. Elain had needed to tell someone, feeling like it was a secret burning her throat. The cab driver hadn’t been an option, but maybe telling Feyre that her son’s godfather nearly fucked her in an elevator wasn’t the smartest thing.

But what else was she meant to do?

Dressed in a large t-shirt and leggings, Elain twisted her hair up into a bun and wandered into the kitchen. The whirls and hums of the washer filled the apartment, punctuated by the sound of the storm outside. Rain fell steadily, accompanied by the rumble of thunder.

A perusal of her pantry revealed very little. The fridge, even less. Elain had planned to go shopping the next day, spending the morning at the farmer’s market getting all sorts of fresh produce to experiment with. She had a list of recipes to try during her vacation, part of a plan to decide what to cultivate in her own garden.

Oh, everything was going absolutely wrong, and it was all Lucien’s fault! As always!

The loud shriek from her apartment’s buzzer made her jump. No one ever used it. If it was a friend, they sent a text. If it was a delivery, it was left downstairs.

Elain tiptoed to the intercom, pressing the button to speak. “Hello?”

“It’s me.” An awkward cough. Elain suddenly felt very warm. “Um, Lucien.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Can you let me up?”

“Why are you here? How do you know where I live?”

“Elain, I can barely understand you through this thing.” That was true. The system seemed to have been installed when the apartment was built and left alone after that. “Let me up. I have food.”

Oh. In that case. Elain pressed the button to buzz him in for a few seconds. She stood by the door, wondering whether she should open it or wait for his knock. Then she remembered she wasn’t wearing a bra under her shirt and she dashed to her bedroom in search of a sweater.

Lucien’s polite but firm knock came when she was stumbling down the hall, shoving her head through the neck hole. “Just a second!” Elain rightened herself, smoothing down her hair and straightening the sweater before opening the door.

“Hi,” Lucien held up a paper bag with a familiar logo. “I got your favorite.”

Her eyes narrowed. “How do you know what my favorite is?”

“I called in a favor with Feyre,” he said. “Cacio e pepe, bruschetta, butternut squash ravioli, and the house salad?”

Elain crossed her arms. “I don’t like cacio e pepe.” Well, that wasn’t entirely true. But it wasn’t her favorite!

“Yeah, well, I do. Let me in?” Lucien raised an eyebrow.

She was tempted. However. “How did you find out where I live? What HR rules did you violate?”

“Elain, I hardly have to violate HR rules when Feyre is one of my best friends,” Lucien sighed. “Now, please, let me in.”

She could grab the food and lock him out. It would serve him right. But she had a feeling in the tussle for the bag, he would win or the food would become a casualty.

Elain stepped aside. “Fine. Kitchen is over there.”

She snuck glances at Lucien as he unpacked the bag and she took out dishes and silverware. His long hair was damp from the rain, but he looked much the same as he had before they parted ways earlier that evening.

“Did you go home at all?”

“No,” Lucien shrugged, taking a seat and helping himself to the food. “I’m starving.”

Elain’s stomach grumbled. Sharing a table with Lucien wasn’t super appealing, but she was hungry too. Reluctantly, she sat across from him at her tiny round four-seater and served herself. It was quiet except for the sound of their eating and the occasional request to pass a dish or a napkin.

She waited for Lucien to say something. He was the one who came over, he must have a reason. If all he wanted was to pick up where they left off, he would’ve spoken before he started dishing out the food.

“Eat, Elain,” he said without looking up.

She scowled. “I am.” Asshole.

“You’re spending more time glaring at me than chewing,” he said. “And you’re going to need energy for what I have planned.”

Elain sputtered. “Excuse me?”

“I want you,” he admitted. His fiery gaze made her squirm. “I also want you happy and able to keep up so—” He waved his fork at her then shoveled more pasta into his mouth.

“I didn’t realize this was a quid pro quo,” she seethed. “Food for sex?”

Lucien flinched a bit, coughing as he choked down his food. “Food for talking. Which I think will lead to sex.”

“Cocky.”

“Elain, your thighs were wrapped about me like two hours ago,” he pointed out. “I want you. You want me. I’m going to feed you, clear the air between us, and then do what I should have done years ago.”

“Which is?”

“Show you how much I care about you.”

Elain sniffed, stabbing her salad. “I see no reason why we can’t eat and talk.”

Despite herself, she was curious. Lucien had been a real menace. He had to be a true idiot not to realize how his actions back then bothered her. Maybe he thought they had a friendly rivalry now, but Elain’s real dislike of him wasn’t just going to go away.

“I told you I liked you,” he started. “And I was stupid about the way I went about it. I must still be a little stupid, because I didn’t realize what I was doing was bothering you that much. All this time, I thought I was making you better, Elain. I wouldn’t give critique to any other colleague that way, but we have a history. You never told me to stop.”

She opened her mouth to argue then had to abruptly shut it. Was he right?

Maybe. Every criticism, every suggestion did actually make her work better. Even if Lucien wasn’t right all the time, he made her think and defend her decisions. He needled her, sure, but she gave it right back.

A mature adult would have told him to stop, would have said she didn’t appreciate his comments or even gone to a supervisor. She didn’t, was never even tempted to.

Elain frowned, taking a bite of her ravioli so she could stall. Finally, she said, “This is how you normally charm people? You bicker with them?”

“No, that seems to be a you-thing.” Lucien leaned back in his chair with a chuckle, rolling his sleeves up. And damn her if those forearms didn’t make her a little hot. If he noticed, Lucien didn’t say anything. “I am sorry for the pain I’ve caused you. And I’m here with dinner and dessert to say that I still like you, Elain. A lot.”

“Dessert?” she asked, as if that was the most important part of the conversation. He brought out a container of tiramisu. Elain hummed in approval, but didn’t say anything else.

What now? An obscenely tall man sat across from her, finishing the dinner he brought her for the chance to confess that he’d like to get in her pants. Okay, and he probably wanted to…what? Date her?

Elain mopped up the remnants of the sage browned butter sauce with a piece of bread, plate clean. “You busy on Saturday?”

“Uh, no,” Lucien said.

“I was planning to see a movie by myself, but I supposed you can tag along.” Elain stood, clearing the dishes from the table. “I’ll buy the tickets, you buy us ice cream after.”

She didn’t think Lucien was that stunned, though she didn’t hear an answer from him as she started loading her dishwasher. Instead, she heard the sound of the fridge opening and closing. Then two very large, very warm hands were on her hips. Elain’s damp hands froze in midair.

“I’d love to see a movie with you Saturday.” His breath stirred the top of her head. Damn, he was too tall. “I’ll take you out for dinner too, someplace where we don’t have to do the dishes.” Lucien’s nose trailed down her neck. “But what about now, Elain?”

“I didn’t get dessert,” she said breathlessly.

“I put it in the fridge.” He kissed her neck and she nearly melted. “Midnight snack. If you aren’t too worn out.”

Elain could never back down from a challenge Lucien put in front of her. She spun, using his body for balance as she popped onto her tiptoes. He leaned down, meeting her halfway in a passionate kiss. Their first encounter had been savage and angry, but this one was just desperate.

Lucien’s hands wandered to her ass, giving it a firm squeeze. Elain squeaked into his mouth and retaliated with a nip. His hands traveled a little further down, and this time she didn’t hesitate in gripping his shoulders and jumping.

Face to face with him, Elain grinned. “I could get used to this view.”

“I hope you do.” It was the typical smug answer she would expect from him, but without the mean edge.

Lucien’s little smile was so sexy she had to kiss him again. Her hands combed through his silky hair, enjoying the handfuls that slipped through her fingers. Lucien groaned, stumbling a bit before he placed her on the counter. Once again she was a little shorter than him, but he quickly fixed that by bending to kiss from her jaw down her neck.

“How do you always smell like fucking flowers?” he groaned.

Elain wiggled on the counter, grabbing her sweater and t-shirt and pulling them off at once. Lucien helped her tug the material over her head and the bundle got tossed on the floor.

“Fuck.” Lucien wasted no time in cupping her breasts, thumbs flicking over her nipples as he watched her reactions. “I’ve fucking dreamt about your tits.”

Elain laughed breathlessly, head tilted back and heart pounding as each caress sent electricity between her thighs. “You have not.” She kicked him. Gently.

“I’ll tell you all about it.” He practically buried his face in her chest, murmuring against her flesh between kisses. “You can decide what we reenact.”

Any thought of joking flew out the window when he took her nipple in his mouth and sucked, teeth gently biting down. Elain cried out, nails digging into his shoulders as he lifted his head, teeth scraping against her sensitive skin. She dragged his mouth back to hers, opening his mouth to hers. Lucien’s hands went back to her breasts, unable to leave them unattended for even a moment.

“Shirt off,” she gasped, hands clumsily pulling at the material where it was tucked into his pants. Together they wrestled the shirt off, then Elain attacked his belt. Her efforts were thwarted when Lucien tugged her closer, ass nearly hanging off the edge of the counter. Again, she felt his cock against her core, hot and big and all for her.

Lucien lifted her again, walking out of the kitchen. “Bedroom?”

“That way,” Elain pointed while she took her turn in kissing his jaw, eager to taste every inch of that bronze skin. She traced the edge of his ear with her tongue and he nearly ran them into the door frame.

Abruptly, Elain felt herself fall. She landed with a bounce on her bed, staring up at the giant rubbing his cock through his pants as he gazed at her.

“Come here,” she held out her hands.

Lucien took off his pants and boxers, and Elain sat up like a spring. She was never really one to call dicks pretty or anything, but his was too enticing to ignore. One hand gripped the base as her tongue darted out, licking a broad stripe up the underside.

“Fuck!” Lucien cursed. His hand landed on the back of her head, before he snatched it away. “Elain, later.”

“Now.” She glared up at him then resumed her work. She warmed up by licking him, then took the head in her mouth and swirled her tongue. She took Lucien’s hand and put it back on her head, but though it stayed there it was frozen. Lucien’s cock was so thick her mouth burned with the stretch. His cursing and babbled praise punctuated the roaring in her ears.

“Enough, enough, Elain.” Now his hand fisted her hair, tugging to get her off. She released him with a pop and a pout. “Shit, I already know I’m going to embarrass myself and come too soon, you don’t have to make it harder for me.”

“I think you’re plenty hard.” She didn’t get the chance to laugh at her stupid joke before Lucien pushed her back on the bed, kissing her thoroughly. She shivered and moaned at the feeling of so much hot body on hers, the way his muscles rubbed against her soft curves.

Lucien impatiently kissed down her body, dedicating just a bit more time for her breasts. He nibbled on the skin above her waistband before Elain squirmed and started to peel off her leggings herself. They joined the pile of clothes on the floor.

He kneeled on the floor, pulling Elain to the edge of the bed by her hips. Her gasp of surprise turned into a cry of delight when Lucien licked her pussy, no teasing or agonizing build up.

She never understood the true meaning of eating out until that moment. Lucien devoured her, hands digging into her skin to keep her hips down, to keep her cunt accessible to his mouth. She couldn’t close her legs, couldn’t wiggle away from the assault.

“Lucien,” she gasped. “I — oh.”

His response was a groan. That was fine. Why use his tongue for words when it could keep circling her clit, flicking as his lips coaxed every drop of pleasure from her body?

Elain gripped his auburn hair, shivering at the way it brushed against her thighs. Lucien grunted at a particularly rough tug, but he didn’t tell her to stop. She arched against the bed, cries getting louder until Lucien reached up, tweaked her nipple, and she broke.

Practically sobbing through the aftershocks, Elain’s grip on Lucien’s hair loosened as he brought her down with slow licks. With one final shudder, Elain nudged his side with her foot. He rose, wiping his smirking mouth with the back of his hand. The sight made her core clench again.

Elain rolled on the bed, stretching to open the drawer of her nightstand. Behind her she felt Lucien climbing on the bed. He kissed her shoulder. Then he swatted her ass.

“Hey!” Elain abandoned her search for a condom to glare.

“Sorry,” he said, not looking very sorry at all. “Too tempting to resist.”

While he kneaded her ass, Elain rooted through junk until she found condoms. Together, they wasted no time in rolling it on Lucien.

“This okay?” he asked when he found himself hovering over her.

Elain wiggled a bit on her back, smiling as she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Perfect.”

He leaned down to kiss her sweetly. “Tell me if I need to go slow or anything.”

“You’re going too slow right now,” she grumbled, pulling his body towards her. “I’m ready.”

Lucien’s eyes on her were intense, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away as he lined himself up and slowly pushed into her. Elain’s eyes fluttered and her breath got caught in her throat. She was entranced by the hard line of his jaw, the way his lips pressed together as he slowly rolled his hips and penetrated deeper and deeper. The stretch was exquisite.

When Elain thought he had no more to give, Lucien proved her wrong. She made a choked sound, throwing her head back.

“Elain?” he grunted.

“Keep going.” She bucked her hips. One of his giant hands held onto her thigh, the other arm supporting his weight as he completed a few more gentle thrusts—and then she knew she had taken all of him.

Elain moaned. “Holy shit.”

“That good, huh?” Lucien’s voice was strained as he moved steadily, head falling.

She didn’t give the smug asshole a verbal answer, choosing instead to grab his face and place a sloppy kiss on his lips. Elain purposefully flexed her inner muscles around him to jerk Lucien out of his controlled movements. It worked. With a groan, his hips snapped against her, rhythm slowly increasing.

“Elain.” He lowered his body more, at her urging. “Fuck, Elain, you…”

She could only respond with her cries of pleasure, arms and legs holding him closer.

With a growl, Lucien reared up. Elain whined, but he ignored her as he knelt and hauled her back on his cock. Her back arched, heels digging into the mattress. In this position he could fuck her with more power. She gripped his wrists where his hands were clamped on her waist, needing something to grip. Lucien’s gaze jumped from where they were joined to where her breasts bounced wildly.

Elain bucked. “Lucien…I need…”

He brought his thumb to her mouth. She sucked, nipping his salty skin before he pulled it out. Lucien rubbed his thumb against her lips, smearing her spit. He looked entranced for a moment before he brought his thumb down to her clit. A few circles, then Elain was flying apart.

She screamed, flying with pleasure until her body went limp. Lucien kept a steady pace until she began to come down, then he moved faster and faster. Head thrown back, biceps flexed with the effort it took to keep her on his cock, Lucien thrust deep one more time before coming with a cry. His hips jerked in a few more powerful thrusts before he released his grip on her.

Elain was undone. Her chest heaved and she was sure she was an unattractive splotchy red. Her tug on Lucien was weak, but he leaned over her without much coaxing. The kisses they shared were sweet and sated, unhurried.

“Lemme get rid of this,” Lucien murmured. Elain hummed, pressing one more kiss to his lips before pulling back. They cleaned up quickly, falling back into back wordlessly.

Well, mostly wordlessly. “Let me know when you want that tiramisu,” Lucien murmured against the back of her head.

Elain giggled. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“I can’t convince you to go for round two?” He brushed aside the hair on her neck, brushing his lips from the sensitive skin there down to her shoulder.

“‘M tired,” she sighed. “Tomorrow.”

“Bright and early then,” he said. “Some of us don’t have vacation.”

“Sucks for you.”

He chucked. Elain was almost asleep when he spoke again.

“Elain…”

“What?” she grumbled.

“I don’t want to leave you but…”

That woke her up. Elain rolled onto her back, swiping her hair out of her face. “But?”

“But I do have to work tomorrow and…” He looked very sheepish. “Elain, I don’t fit on your bed.”

She sat up, ready to berate him for being stupid. But the words died in her mouth. Unless he curled up, his feet did hang off the bed. He could perhaps sleep diagonally and fit on her bed, but not when she was in it.

“Never mind,” Lucien said. “I’ll be fine for one night.” He kissed her cheek and lay back down. Elain got up. “Elain?”

“Get dressed.” She pulled a tshirt and then found a backpack, stuffing it with a change of clothes. “You can have your bed and your round two if you make me breakfast in the morning.”

“Are you sure?” He looked much too sexy splayed in her bed, bedsheet just covering his hips but leaving plenty of muscled body for her to peruse.

Oh yeah. She could go for a round two.

“Hurry up.” She bent and threw his pants at him. “And don’t forget my tiramisu.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

[ranidspace]

Hello, sorry this is very long but I thought I wanted to maybe help with the laundry thing. It's kinda really broken down and I don't know if that's exactly what you were looking for but I hope it helps in some way

depending on how much work you wanna do there's a couple different options and things can be like mixed and matched if that makes sense in this moment and after you read this

most of the time it's recommended separating light colors and dark colors (growing up my parents had a third category as well that was things sort of in between) because colors can bleed into each other. I personally haven't had any issue in the time frame I've been doing my laundry on my own, however sometimes newer jeans or denim can have extra dye in them so I usually try and keep that in mind when I have newer jeans and shorts but if they're clothing. that's been washed multiple times before I don't think it'd be an issue. There's a product that is supposed to help with this that as far as I can tell is doing Something but I can't say with certainty it's saving anything, but if you'd like to try it, they're "shout color catcher"

so a first step I'd say is collect your laundry into one central area

divide into piles. maybe lights and darks (if youre worried about dyes bleeding), maybe heavier fabrics and light fabrics (heavier fabrics take longer to dry and some times people keep them separate so they can dry them on higher settings)

it also might be good to keep in mind if you have things with buttons and lace or holes (intention ones or added with age) and things with straps and keep some of those mingling to a minimum because the buttons and zippers and such can very easily get tangled and can lead to tearing the clothing

regardless of how your separate them, a good frame of mind if having them in groups that can be their own loads of laundry. it's super handy to have a basket of some sort to transport them from place to place if it's gotta be a ways away

pick a pile to wash and put them in your washing machine, if its a top loading machine and there's an agitater thing in the middle than load around that, if there isn't one it's recommended you still load it in a sort of doughnut shape. I know there's a reason for it but tbh I am unsure of why exactly

I'm not familiar with front loading machines so as far as im aware just shove that shit in there

determine what size load you have, small, medium, or large. I usually default to just filling it all the way up, but it can change based on the sized of the piles you've made and such

determine the water temp, I've heard cold water is less likely to cause clothes to bleed or shrink so I have been washing everything besides a couple things in cold water

You can also decide this based on your clothing care instructions on their tags

pick your detergent. I realize now that's maybe an earlier step, oops. I don't know a lot about this step, the pros and cons of different ones and kinds. I use a lot of gain growing up my parents used a lot of Tide

I find pods to be the easiest for me, my partner prefers liquid

it's recommended you not use a ton of it because it can gunk up the washing machine. It's something like 2 tablespoons. I'll be honest I usually throw in one pod and be done, with the assumption that's about right. I don't know exactly but that's how I do

pick what you wanna wash with and put that in it's place (i am unfamiliar with washers that have drawers to put it in, I've always just dumped it right on the clothes so I hope it's easy for you to know where it goes)

you can had fabric softener or scent beads bit those can be a bit tricky. Fabric softener causes clothes to feel softer because it coats the fibers and after a while it's builds up and actually makes your clothing Less soft. And I'm not certain if the beads do the same, but I've been told that some times the beads don't really melt or dissolve well if it's cold water so you may need it to be warmer or hot water for those to be added

close your lid

then set the setting for how clean you want it, I guess this could be done with the other settings, this is sort of the order I do it in so apologies if that makes it a bit confusing to follow

for the settings I usually default to the super setting or whatever is sort of the heaviest duty setting. If your load is full of more delicate, then that may be a better options. You can also reference the clothing tags for this step as well

then hit start if it's a start button or if it's one like mine then it it may be a part of the previous step, the dial sort of presses in and you turn it, there's a noise and you can only turn it the one direction, and then lift up on it and the water will start

check in on it occasionally to hear if it stops

once the washing machine is finished, you move them to the dryer or hang them up to dry. This is a personal preference and possibly clothing requirement lile things with rubber or melt-able parts to it. If you intend to hang anything up make sure you got the space and the hangers. Once you've determined what should go into the dryer, add it all in

I usually dry all my clothing on the low setting and it works out well enough. I heard once it helps prevent shrinking, I don't know if that's true or not but that's why it started. it could be an issue for heavier fabrics like towels so you may need to go up a setting. This can usually also be determines by checking the tags

Toss in a dryer sheet or those wool dryer balls (this is supposed to help with static and maybe something else but I am unsure)

be sure to check the lint trap, ideally the lint is removed between every load. This helps your clothes dry easier and also keeps your dryer from being a possible fire hazard. If it seems like your cloths are taking a particularly long time to dry the lint trap may be a part of the problem

then set how long to put them in there for. Besides needing items quickly, I've never had a reason not to put it for the longest setting hit the start button

then collect your clothes, a basket is super helpful here, and start again with the next pile until things are done

I hope that's coherent and not to fucked up cause I did it in a notes app and that doesn't always autocorrect me

so sorry for not responding to this earlier but yeah this has a lot of info

[dozenssporks]

A video from Meryl’s personal files

*Meryl is standing in front of a door looking up into the camera with a strangely bright, fixed smile*

meryl: Milly and I just met a big deadline and for once we get a couple days off! Life is good, right? We decided to have a little girl time, me and Milly. And Zazie. But that’s only because someone left a window open.

*meryl shrugs and makes an ‘I dunno’ face*

meryl: I argued they’re not qualified for girl time and they argued that they’re not not qualified for girl time. I gave up and made them a cocktail. Plus, they complimented my shoes which earns them points.

*moves the camera to show a shot of the designer heels she’s wearing*

meryl: they’re prada. Nice right? All this is to say that today has all the ingredients for a very nice day. A real change of pace. So the thing is . . .

*she closes her eyes for a moment and takes a deep, slow breath*

meryl: when you have a man classified as a natural disaster staying in your home you want to keep him outside of it as much as possible. So what do you do? Well, you need a few odds and ends so you send him for a little shopping trip. Nothing big. Milk, some laundry detergent, that sort of thing. You even write him a detailed list so there’s absolutely no confusion. And off he goes in his little red coat to present some money, take ownership of products, and return home in triumph. What could possibly go wrong?

*the smile drops and meryl takes a moment to pinch the bridge of her nose and take a few more deep breaths before continuing*

meryl: I mean, you certainly don’t expect to find him dying on your doorstep.

*meryl opens the door behind her and steps outside. Vash is laying in a tangle on the sidewalk in what appears to be a remarkably large pool of blood. It also appears that he had attempted to write something with the blood but only got as far as ‘it was’*

vash: meryl, meryl, I think they got an artery, avenge me meryl

meryl: yeah yeah. Don’t flail around I’m gonna step over you and if my shoes get dirty you’re a dead man.

vash: aren’t those the shoes that go with the little gray purse? Looking good.

*vash gives a feeble thumbs up*

meryl: don’t try and butter me up, mister. But thank you.

*the camera swoops around a little as meryl steps over vash and crouches down on the pavement, placing a half-full cocktail glass next to herself*

meryl: sooo, vash, what was it I asked you to do?

vash, faintly: go shopping?

meryl: and did you buy everything on the list?

vash: no . . .

meryl: what did you buy, mr. stampede?

vash: . . . two jugs of ketchup from the bulk section. they were on sale.

meryl, with brittle sweetness: and what happened after that, hm?

vash: haha, your sidewalk failed to meet safety standards?

meryl, dropping her smile and replacing it with a look of barely contained rage: you tripped on a beer can. A beer can you left out here last night. A beer can I told you to throw out last night before somebody tripped on it and hurt themselves. That beer can.

vash: yeah, that beer can.

meryl: which resulted in this ketchup carnage on the sidewalk, on the doorstep, the outside of the door, the windows--

vash, sadly: and me

meryl: we aren’t talking about you right now

vash, muttering: coulda fooled me

meryl, looking up as if at an invisible audience: look, look at this disaster man. Being around him inspires me to be a better person

*leaning forward to get her face as close to vash’s as possible without coming in contract with the ketchup, her voice lowering to a deadly growl*

meryl: but he also inspires me to take that stupid tie that always appears when he’s drunk, wrap it around his neck, and slowly strangle him to death with it

*whimpering from vash*

meryl, downing the rest of her cocktail: so what have we learned?

vash: that that color really suits your nails?

meryl: thanks, milly gave me a manicure. I’ll have to take them off before work but I’ll enjoy what I can when I can.

vash: it’s really the little things that make life so good.

meryl: unfortunately it’s the big things that waste my money and wreck havoc in my home. What happens now, mr. walking disaster, is that you’re going to take the hose, clean the sidewalk, clean yourself, and you are not allowed inside until you are tomato free and dry

vash: can I at least get a towel or something?

meryl, standing up and stepping over vash again: I’ll see how I feel after another drink. Another three drinks. And a facial.

vash: when you already have such lovely skin?

meryl: just get up off the ground and pretend like you’re a person and not an unfortunate incident!

*the camera swoops and shakes as meryl marches back inside and slams the door behind her. The video ends*

[nebulousneuroticism]

I guess I did get a little energy from vacation, because I was able to get up on time today and do some chores in between work tasks. I did the laundry, including bedsheets, which is always exhausting, and I did a big grocery shopping trip, too. Work was pretty quiet, and I was somewhat unproductive, but it wasn't entirely my fault.

In the evening, I couldn't really decide what to do. There were too many possibilities, and I felt torn between them. In the end, I returned to some things I was doing before my trip--watching television and playing Rimworld. It was pleasant enough, but I feel like I need to clear my head and do some productive things. I want to write (either a story or my D&D adventure), and I want to read (I started Les Miserables on vacation, and it's a very large book so I can't afford to go too slowly), and I want to play Trails of Cold Steel 2 (which I also started on vacation), and I want to find something spooky to watch for halloween (but not too spooky), and, and, and... So my mind was too jumbled up to really do anything.

A couple of things happened tonight that made me feel bad about myself, too. First, that cute girl has been depressed lately, and she tried to call me but I missed the call. I really dislike talking on the phone, so I keep my phone on silent. (Plus, though I would never admit this to her, talking to her on the phone is not a great experience--she simply does not have conversational boundaries and will monologue for literal hours, leaving me feeling trapped). She knows I hate phone calls, and she usually respects my preference, but I know it bothers her a lot. So I felt guilty about missing the call, but also filled with anxiety at the thought of having a conversation, especially because all I want right now is solitude.

The second thing that made me feel bad tonight was weighing myself--it seems I gained quite a bit of weight on vacation. I've been feeling kind of bad about the upward trend for a few months now, and this was a step in the wrong direction. I don't really like how I look, and I worry that munching on food is becoming an emotional crutch of sorts, which is not a healthy habit to have.

In other words, I am filled with angst. I'm sure you have missed this angst, dear reader, but I am here to provide.

[mainstoryarchive]

Troublemakers - 41: Rabbit

Translator: Peace

Proofreader: nazunyan427

Hajime: Hum, hum, hum ♪

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Location: Saison Avenue

Heading: (A little while later.)

Hajime: Hum, hum, hum ♪

Tomoya: Hm? What’s up, Hajime? You sure seem to be in a good mood.

Hajime: Oh! It’s nothing… Ehehe! ♪ I was just thinking that the weather’s awfully nice today.

In fact, it’s the best kind of weather to do laundry in! With the sun shining as brightly as it is right now, I can’t help feeling happy!

Tomoya: Ahh, I get it now. Just the norm.

I wonder how much your good mood really has to do with basking in all this sun—and how much it has to do with how well Trickstar’s performance went yesterday! Sure must’ve been real nice to see—no fair!

You’re so lucky! I just wish I could’ve gone too.

Hajime: Huh? But Tomoya-kun, you’re the one who decided that a production put on by Hibiki-senpai’s theatrical troupe took priority over Trickstar, aren’t you?

Why are you acting like I left you behind? If you’re gonna make a big deal out of it, you should’ve just come too!

Hajime: If anything, I should be the one kicking up a fuss! Tomoya-kun, I’m seriously questioning just how much you really love Trickstar—no, Hidaka-senpai!

Tomoya: That’s not fair, Hajime, don’t be like that… Besides, as usual, Trickstar gave barely any heads up that they’d even be performing in the first place.

And I’ve been looking forward to the troupe’s production for a while—I fought tooth and nail for that seat! I couldn’t stop thinking, if I miss this, I’ll regret it for the rest of my days.

Do you have any idea what a painful decision that was to make? If I could’ve split myself in two and gone to see both I would’ve jumped at the chance!

Hajime: Heehee. It sounds as if Sengoku-kun’s Body Double Jutsu would’ve come in handy, huh? Nin nin! ♪

Tomoya: No way. That guy might like playing ninja, but all that ninjutsu stuff he does comes straight out of a manga. There’s no way it would work in real life.

Mitsuru: Heeey~! Tomo-chan, Hajime-chan, everything’s allll set up! Let’s get started on today’s job~♪

Hajime: Okay~! Heheh, Mitsuru-kun’s always so energetic, he almost feels like the shining sun itself…♪

Mitsuru: Eheheh, I’ve got no idea what you’re talkin’ about, but I know it’s a compliment! Let the praise roll in~!

Tomoya: You really know how to live in the moment, huh. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get jealous every now and then.

Anyway, today’s job is… Uhh, it seems like we’re promoting some sort of DreamFes by handing out balloons and fliers or something like that?

Fliers are one thing, but aren’t balloons kind of out of the ordinary?

Hajime: They are, just a bit! But seeing little kids walk around clutching the balloons is so cute, and they really catch your eye.

Plus the text on the balloons really stands out—if you ask me, it’s a much more effective advertising strategy than the fliers alone.

Tomoya: Oh, I get it now. So even ES has all kinds of ways to get the word out there, huh?

But balloons seem like they’d cost more than just some paper—not to mention the time it’d take to blow up every single one.

Though these days, no one really pays much attention to whatever random fliers are handed to them… I guess.

I get handed all kinds of fliers on my normal route too, and I just crumple them straight up and toss them into the next trash can I can find.

Hajime: Really? That’s such a waste! If you turn those fliers inside out and divide them into four equal parts, you can make an easy bookmark using a simple paperclip.

Tomoya: Why do you still have such a poor person’s mindset? We’re doing pretty well for ourselves right now.

Mitsuru: Hey hey, why’re we handing out fliers anyway?

I wanna perform! I wanna sing and dance and bounce all around in front of a crowd, shining even brighter than the sun!

Hajime: Heehee. But handing out fliers directly to concert-goers—or rather, whatever passer-bys we run into here today—is important!

If you’re on stage all the time, then you’ll forget the important things—

Mitsuru: Yeah, I got it! You’re right as ever, Hajime-chan~!

Hajime: Ah, ehehe… Sorry, I feel like I was being a little condescending…

Mitsuru: What’re you apologizin’ for? I don’t get it… Do you, Tomo-chan?

Tomoya: Mitsuru’s right. I’m always telling you this, Hajime, you’ve gotta have more confidence in yourself… I mean, I don’t think it’s condescending if you know what you’re talking about.

If you’re meek and submissive as an idol, then you’re just making light of all the fans cheering you on.

Hajime: Ah, yes. I know… But that’s just how I am…♪

Mitsuru: Yup yup, and that’s what makes you so cute, Hajime-chan! But I wanna see you be super confident and proud of yourself too! How about you try it out sometime?

Like, say something that those UNDEAD guys would say!

Hajime: Uh… Sh-Shake to your very core, ignorant fools!

Mitsuru: Whooo! Shake me to my core, Hajime-chan!

Tomoya: Alright guys, stop messing around. We’ve got work to do.

Hajime: Okay~. Ehehe, roger that, Leader…♪

Tomoya: Leader, huh… I’m still so not used to that. Even now I’m doubting whether I’m really good enough to step into Nii-chan’s shoes.

Well, even if I’m not right for the job, if I don't take a stand for myself, then it’ll be like I’m spitting on Nii-chan’s wish. So I’ll do everything I can, as normally as ever.

[ ☆ ]

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[unsuredreamer]

I’m honestly not that bad when I’m drunk I just become more chatty. I’m also far more coordinated when drunk so I don’t know how that works but whatever I’ll take it. I think her boyfriend said it was Skyy but I’m pretty sure it was mixed with Tito (he mixes his vodkas and makes the nastiest of flavors) all I know is when we got to fight of our lives that and the ginger shots were a no go anymore. I ended up just drinking water and lemonade the rest of the movie. Plus we just finished since one of my friends decided they wanted to get food. They all asked if this was a two part movie or if there was like a snyders cut because it was short and good but short.

As for what kind of vodka I like it usually depends on the day (I’m a seven shots in one cup kind of girl). If I’m in a drinking just because kind of mood I’ll mix some cheap vodka, usually burnetts, with a Red Bull, sprite, or a flavor mix pod. If I’m drinking because it’s been a day and I don’t like the day anymore I’ll try to find stolichnaya or Tito’s. Otherwise I’m not a fan of alcohol beyond maybe some wines.

As for friends and how we even got to watching Disney movies together is sort of a fun story. We all either live with each other or in the same apartment complex and we all apparently went to the same university or were from the same general area. Well because we were looking for roommates we found each other and then it turned out that my roommates were friends with two of my coworkers and so we started hanging out (fun fact I’m the loner of the group or the odd ball if you will). But at our university there was a Disney club and a couple of them were in the club and so at one of our very very long gatherings they brought up that they were in this club and what movie had just come out and then we all got to talking about our love of Disney movies (now mind you I hate talking and I hate being social I’m far too introverted but when it comes to Disney, marvel, and a few others baby I’m a social butterfly).

Let me tell you I’m the least productive especially on days off. I’ll do my laundry and some cleaning or I just take the day a watch some shows or movies. My roommates have dubbed me the “perfect girlfriend” for those who just want cuddles or like being in control (I’m just chill? Maybe? Idk but yeah like just tell me what you want to do and I’ll make sure we do it and that it’s a fun day😌).

How was work? What do you do (if you don’t mind me asking)?

What’s your favorite flavor vodka?

And are you a red or white wine kind of person?

Also what are your pronouns I feel awkward just calling someone babe or babygirl or anything gendered when I don’t know someone (I swear I can’t help but ask, consent and knowing what people are okay with is a must for me 🫠 it’s not to be awkward I promise).

Anyways I hope you ate today and stayed hydrated 😉

-🤺

Well, good for you, because my balance is completely off. And I feel like we all become a bit more chatty, for me, it gets me a little more confidence than usual (Which not always is a good thing)

Ugh, there's this part of fight of our lives that's hitting my brain in just the right ways.

Tbh Im not a big fan of alcohol too, sometimes when i do want to get drunk I just buy the cheapest wine there is, like 2 bottles and drink my ass off. When I'm in a mood when i just want to drink a little and maybe have some fun I usually drink beer.

From your little story I wonder how old are you? if you don't mind me asking of course.

And i sooo get you in being the introvert, but it's kind of weird on my side here. Because I'm introverted as shit at the same time being a people pleaser. Like if I do have to interact with strangers, I'll do the most maybe even too much. When i do become closer with someone I tend to be quieter, but it's a matter of time i get more comfortable, then, depending on days i can be either this or that (so confusing im sorry😭)

To be honest, I would love to do all kinds of things (like going kayaking or to the amusement park, just going to the gallery and walking around laughing, gokarting or just simply laying in bed, rotting and watching movies wigh snacks would be the most fun to me) I could do these alone but it's no fun 🥲 And I do have a lover but she is not really willing to do the things i would love to do, rather just lay in bed all the time. I mean, I like to be in bed cuddling and such, but all the time? Have some fun! Take me out, I'll take you out, just excite me.

Work was great actually, the time went quite fast even though we had some things to do. I work at a bakery! Where do you work love?

I'm not really a vodka lover, so I have not tried many, but one time, i was at a party. This girl made vodka shots with grapefruit juice and I drank like shot after shot. It was heavenly 🙌🏻

To be honest just give me wine and I'll be content x. What are your preferences?

Mine pronouns are she/her, what are yours love? I appreciate you asking. Consent is a must, I agree. (You certainly are not awkward, actually i feel like ur the nicest person. Made me smile so much in those two days of your reqs 😄)

I did and I hope you did too . Hope you have a wonderful day!

[lostinlogan]

Setting Time on Fire

Fuck, it's easter and i havent called anybody.

The weekend really didn't initially start off this way but we do always kind of end up here. Saturday was actually really productive, we got up, made a list of items to take care of and even though we missed the 7:00 am alarm we had set for ourselves, we were still able to make the most of the day with getting out of bed, making plans and playing golf. good exercise, fresh air, walked the entire 18 holes (well really 17, i arrived a little late and had to catch up with my tee time on #2) and even shot pretty well on the back nine. the guy who i usually play with wont believe me but i shot a 42 which is like really good for me. point is, a good start tot he weekend. then i got home, ate some food and that's where the cycle began, just naps and yt and vaping for the next 36 hours. idk i kind of have these days and im not sure if theyre cathartic or destructive. Like just days of pure nothing, lounging around, barely getting any laundry done. looking at the tasks i have set forth for myself, looking at my life really and just saying nah, i cant be bothered. getting a little sad, getting a little not content or happy but finding some sort of peace. Really questioning if the depression from my youth is rearing it's ugly head again, really questioning if I'm happy or not. Idk it's a lot of writhing around in my bed in 2 day old underwear asking a lot of questions and not getting a lot of answers.

I decided that Im not going to call anyone today. its easter and i just dont feel like talking to the family. I could i just dont have it. idk people always ask me what's new with me and i dont really have an answer. Well actually thats not true,i have an answer, i do things, a lot of things actually. theyre just not the things that people want to hear. My grandma doesnt want to hear that i got my album signed by like my favorite artist from mexico city. like.. she just doesnt care it doesnt register, i dont think a lot of my life would register so i just dont say anything. It's easier not to call than to open yourself to being rejected. I dont want to be rejected. it makes me fel bad and reminds me of being a kid.I dont like that feeling, so i just kind of do my own thing. Maybe its the disappointment that i'm afraid of. no its not. its definitely the rejection.

[levi-supreme]

You've Been a Good Girl

Characters: Levi x fem!reader

Genre: Modern!au

Warnings: Smut, minors and ageless blogs dni. Thigh riding, brat tamer Levi, some teasing and begging, dirty talking, minimal name-calling, unprotected sex. Brief kabedon moment. One blowjob mention.

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: Happy Thirsty Thursday! Finally! My thigh riding fic is here!!! This one is for my beloved twinnie Fern @levi-lover who fuelled the brainrot with this thirst <3 thank you for being patient with me and yay to finally posting this!!!

[090323] Cross posted to AO3!! Read it on AO3 here.

The skies were clear, the air was crisp. It was a rare sunny day, and you were sitting in your armchair by the window reading a novel. Levi was at work and will not be home until a couple of hours later. The warmth from the sun and the light breeze somehow made you feel productive, and you decided to clean the house and do the laundry.

Putting on Levi’s old t-shirt and a pair of worn-out booty shorts, you start by gathering the clothes from the laundry basket and sorting them by colour before throwing them into the washing machine, setting to a thirty-minute wash. While the washing machine did its work, you gathered the broom and dustpan sweeping the entire house, leaving no spot unturned. You were mildly disgusted at the amount of dust and hair you’ve swept - it has only been a few days since you and Levi last cleaned the house after all.

Before you knew it, the washing machine chimed, signalling that the wash was complete. You gathered the freshly washed laundry and aired them under the sun. Keeping the broom and dustpan, you took a large pail, added a cap of lavender detergent to the water, and began mopping the floor, humming a melody. You started from the living room, slowly making your way to Levi’s study room, and then you started mopping the bedroom. You knew Levi would be pleased to return to a clean home after a long day at work, and the thought made you motivated to finish up faster and take a nice cold shower. When you were done with the bedroom floor, you were trying to mop the area under the bed. Bending your body forward, you tried to reach the area under the bed with the mop.

“The fuck do you think you are doing, sticking your ass so high up in the air like that?” Startled, you turned around and were met face to face with Levi who was leaning against the door frame of your shared bedroom.

“Levi! W-when did you c-come back?” You stuttered. Levi wasn’t supposed to be home so soon, and you were very sure you didn’t hear the gate open. How long had Levi been standing there?

“I’ve been standing here for a good five minutes,” Levi spoke up as though reading your mind, “not complaining though, I had a nice view of your ass.” Levi smirked, loosening his necktie and walking towards you. As Levi moved closer, you started backing towards the bed, confused at Levi’s behaviour. He would usually take a shower immediately when he returned home because he would always complain about being full of pathogens and dirt from outside. Feeling the back of your knees hitting the bed frame, you gulped nervously, knowing you had nowhere to run. Levi swiftly stood before you, a leg in between yours. Holding your waist close, one hand smoothly cupped your exposed ass cheek, fingers lightly caressing the skin.

“Explain yourself. Booty shorts while cleaning? Hmm?” Levi’s breath was hot against your skin as he stared at you hungrily, watching a bead of perspiration drop from your forehead down to your eyebrow.

“Uhh. It was h-hot…” You stared at Levi’s collar bone as you felt something tick in you. Levi’s thigh was pressing against your clit. While you tried to shimmy around, the friction of his thigh pressing on you stirred something in you instead, a little itch down south started to grow. You tried to squeeze your thighs together to reduce the itch, but it made the friction increase. Your lower lip quivered as Levi spoke up again.

“You’re putting up a nice show for me, huh?” Stroking your cheek with one finger, Levi whispered close to your ear, “why, can’t wait to get fucked by me later?”

Your breathing hitched as Levi’s voice sent shivers down your spine. You felt another drip of perspiration slide down your back, and countless more were probably forming along your hairline. Seducing Levi in those booty shorts was never your intention. You didn’t even know Levi would be returning home so soon. If you knew, you wouldn’t wear something so skimpy. Yet, Levi’s offer was very enticing. Levi’s hold on your waist was still strong while his fingers stroked your thigh. Your eyes darted from Levi’s lips to his throat, watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down from swallowing his saliva.

“I… u-uh, I—” your words got cut off as Levi kissed you harshly, squeezing your ass cheeks and giving it a resounding smack. You moaned into the kiss, pulling Levi’s necktie and kissing him back. Levi’s grip on your waist tightened as he sat on the bed and pulled you down with him, continuing to tongue fuck you. You broke the kiss to catch your breath and Levi’s lips assaulted your neck instead, licking your sweaty skin and leaving his mark. You leaned on his chest and your hands fumbled with his necktie, throwing it to one side. Lifting his head, Levi saw your dishevelled look and swollen lips and pulled you close.

“Go on, make yourself cum,” Levi lay against the headboard, an arm crossed behind his head. He eyed you with a look of triumph evident. You wanted to protest and wipe the smug out of his face, but Levi had another arm on your waist. You were straddling his thigh, and you can’t help but admit that the pressure of your shorts pressing on your cunt was very very tempting.

“W-what? Don’t you want to take a shower or something? You’re sweaty and dirty.” You stuttered, focusing on Levi’s nose instead.

“You’re going to get dirty anyway, might as well shower together. Go on. Make yourself feel good. You know you want it.” Unbuttoning the top two buttons of his dress shirt, you gulped when you saw his partially exposed pectoral, sweat glistening on the surface. You knew Levi was baiting you to touch him, and you hated the fact that he knew you wouldn’t be able to resist him.

Damn you, Levi Ackerman.

Your eyes flickered between Levi’s lip and his sweaty chest. Fuck it, you thought in your head as you eagerly leaned forward and crashed your lips onto Levi, hands landing on Levi’s chest. You let out a groan when you felt added pressure on your cunt, and your hands found their way to Levi’s nipples, gently flicking them with your fingers.

“Mhmm, baby, strip for me, won’t you?” You managed to mutter through wet sloppy kisses, saliva dripping from the corner of your lips. You were desperate, eager, and needy to feel his skin under your touch, and you couldn’t wait any longer. Your hands roamed all over Levi’s chest, squeezing his firm muscles.

“It depends on how good you are,” Levi reached under your shirt and skillfully unclasped your bra, freeing your breasts from the confines of the offending material. He kneaded and pinched your soft mounds, using them like a stress ball. A filthy moan escaped your lips, the rougher Levi was, the more you found yourself enjoying the pain. You clenched your thighs, slowly grinding against Levi’s thigh to distract yourself from the soreness of your chest. Clutching onto the collars of his shirt for dear life, your hips were soon rocking a steady rhythm on Levi’s rock hard thigh.

“Levi, b-babe, mhmm…” you moaned in delight, thoroughly enjoying the pleasure as Levi massaged your breasts and played with your hardened nipples. You grabbed Levi’s shoulders tightly, grinding down on his thigh harder. The pressure on your clit was not enough, you wanted and needed more. You opened and closed your mouth, unable to form proper sentences.

“L-Levi, pl-please, help me feel g-good…” your words were incoherent as you felt the pleasure down south build up. Perspiration dripped down your cheeks and you were a heaving mess.

“Not now, you needy little slut. I’ll reward you if you do a good job pleasuring yourself.” Levi smirked as he removed your shirt and your bra, latching himself onto a nipple. His words were harsh, yet the way his tongue slowly flicked and circled your nipple only sent shivers down your spine. It felt so good, too good, the tingling of your chest coupled with the ache in your core.

“I-it’s not fair that I’m already topless b-but you’re still fully clothed,” you muttered, eyes closed in pleasure. You increased your speed, grinding Levi’s thigh harder and harder, feeling the pleasure threatening to spill out soon. Oh, the itch felt so good, you were starting to hate how fast you were about to reach your high. You whined non-stop, begging Levi to touch you more. “Please, Levi,” and “I need you” were all that you managed to spew from your lips.

“Tch, look at you. Humping my thigh like a bitch in heat,” one hand of Levi’s grabbed your breast while the other held your waist, “you like it, huh? Like pleasuring yourself like this?” You couldn’t care any longer. Levi was right, you were acting like a bitch in heat, and you damn well knew he loved it too.

"Levi, I-I’m gon—” you could feel the coil in your lower belly about to snap soon. You rubbed down on Levi’s thigh harder while Levi bit your earlobe softly, fingers doing magic to your hardened buds. Soon, you let out a cry as you felt your orgasm course through, the euphoria clouding your mind. Your chest heaved up and down as your lips formed a small smile. You’ve always wanted to try riding on Levi’s muscular thigh, and this shit was way better than you imagined it to be.

“What a good girl, you horny bitch,” pushing you down on the mattress, Levi removed your bottom layers in one swift move. With a thumb pressing hard on your sensitive clit, you squirmed around as Levi fumbled around his belt, unzipping and pulling down his pants slightly. Pulling out his hard cock, you licked your lip eagerly as you saw a stain so painfully obvious against the black of his boxer briefs.

“Are you ready for your reward?” Levi stroked his aching cock, smearing it with precum. He teasingly poked his head on your entrance, coating the tip with your juices. You let out a groan and nodded, eager and needy, muttering “please, Levi, fuck me right now”. With a few more taps, Levi plunged into you, wet squelching noises following through.

“Hear that? That’s how wet you are, you dirty little girl,” throwing one of your legs over his shoulder, the new position allowed Levi to go deeper, your spongy walls squeezing every inch of him. You cried out in delight, feeling Levi’s cock abusing your every spot. Grabbing onto the bed sheets for dear life, Levi pounded deep into you, hearing you moan and grunt. Levi revelled in the feeling of your wetness, your smooth walls coating every inch of him with your juices. You clamped around Levi every time he brushed past your sweet spot, and soon Levi became a sweaty moaning mess himself. He swiftly unbuttoned his sweaty shirt and threw it on the floor, his hands travelling back to your heaving chest.

“Ah, shit—so wet, so fucking good,” Levi leaned forward to lick your sweaty chest before engulfing your nipple whole. He kicked off his trousers and pounded into you faster. You panted and whined, clutching onto Levi’s arms as you felt your entire body shake. Levi rammed into you so quickly you were confused and wondered if it was the bed shaking instead. Letting go of your salty nipple with a pop of his lips, Levi leaned on your chest as he maintained his rhythm in your sloppy wet cunt, his balls slapping against your ass.

“Mmm, Levi, fuck! I-I’m—” you felt your body vibrate with excitement as Levi’s cock abused your sweet spot. Just a little more and—

“Fuck! I’m gon—” Levi let out a hiss as you cried out loud, rocking your hip and arching your back as your orgasm suddenly hit you by surprise. You pulled Levi close as Levi breathed out loudly, filling you up with thick ropes of hot semen. Your chest heaved with every intake of breath and Levi closed his eyes, resting on your sticky body.

“Like your reward?” Levi spoke through closed eyes, his lips curling into a smile even though you couldn’t see it. You combed your fingers through his wet fringe, pushing yourself up and straddling his waist with your legs. 

“Of course. Maybe I should wear booty shorts at home more.” You teased Levi as he carried you to the toilet while his cock was still in you, “I mopped the floor already, Levi, you better not let your cum drip out.” You jokingly warned Levi while he just rolled his eyes and flicked your forehead. 

“Tch. Since you’ve been a good girl, I won’t make you do extra work. I’ll mop the rest of the house later.” Levi let you down on the floor when you both were in the shower. You turned on the showerhead as Levi went to take the towels.

“Also, I did the laundry too. Do I get an extra reward?” You joked when Levi returned with the towels and a new set of clothes for the both of you. Hearing your comment, Levi trapped you against the wall while the water from the showerhead cascaded down Levi’s body.

“Oh, a reward, you say?” Levi cocked his brow and stared hard at you with a sly smile. You laughed out loud, grabbing his flaccid cock and dropping to your knees. 

“Yeah, I want my reward.” You giggled before rubbing his cock up and down and engulfing it whole. Levi leaned his head against the tiles on the wall and sighed, smiling as he watched you suck his now fully erect cock. You’ve been a good girl after all, and you do deserve that extra reward.

Tagging: @hashaneeee @ack3rlady @roralore @imkumichan @kristinecharmm @notgoodforlife @jean-prettyboy-kirschtein @michiboo @sweet-assh0le @hannie2kay @ack3rlevi @levislovingwife @galactict3a @hauntedhousecat @sckerman @thesimpsstuff @deludedimagines @ackermandick @holy-guacamoly @happybird16 @ackerpotato

Levi Master List | Main Master List | Join the taglist

[multiples-fandomswontkillme]

~Metal Family headcanons~

These are like my... general hcs)? which means I didn't include my main hc that Glam, Ches and Vicky are polyamorous, married and started dating after Glam met Vicky, and absolutely everything that implies for the kids and the relationships between each member of the fam. Maybe I'll make a separate post for that or maybe not! Who knows lkfwnlfqnf

Glam

Bisexual

Glam has constant nightmares and ocasional night terrors ever since he ran away home and is an active sleep walker. Ches helped him through the worse ones when they were younger, and learned how to deal with them, always preferring not to wake him up but being with him until the episode passed. Vicky has learned how to deal with them, though she normally asks Ches for advice with it cuz she comes out short sometimes.

He has PTSD. I bet it's diagnosed too, he takes medication and goes to therapy, it doesn't mean he still doesn't have his bad days anyway. He's trying to get better.

Glam has talked to Vicky about his past, his father and his family. This is a direct contradiction of Alina's confirmation that Glam doesn't talk about it with anyone but man FUCK THAT. We love good communication in this house, Vicky tries her best to help him, but there's only so much she can do to help.

Glam enjoys gardening, cooking and making models, he also likes doing his make up, painting his nails and dressing up in fancy, extravagant clothes even if he has nowhere important to go.

He likes taking care of everyone's hair, and constantly helps Vicky brush her hair cuz there's so much of it, Dee when he gets stressed over how tangled it can get, buys Ches hair products so he actually takes care of it, and chases Heavy so the kid actually washes, untangles and brushes his hair.

This one is kind of weird, but I refuse to think any adult in the family is unarmed at any time. Glam owns a taser and pepper spray. They're bright pink and sparkly.

This man cried his eyes out while watching Coco. He's hell to watch movies with cuz he talks and predicts what's gonna happen during the movie, judges them with scores at the end and all.

Vicky

Also bisexual!

Vicky's the one who does everyone's laundry most of the time. She prefers it that way since she's the only one that knows how to wash their black clothes so the colors stay vibrant. (This is based on my gf shaming everyone but Vicky cuz their black clothes always look so muted and almost gray, but Vicky's whole outfit is always the same vibrant black colors, so we decided that neither Glam or the kids know how to wash dark clothes)

She has anger issues, if it isn't obvious. I think she also has PTSD, mainly survivor's guilt due to her surviving the accident her brother died in. She blames herself and cannot bear to talk about it, in some sort of deep denial. If she can't remember, it can't hurt as much, right?

She has scars on the right side of her back and her hip, from the road rash she got on her brother's accident, she never treated it due to grief and it scarred badly. Apart from that, the scar of the caesarean section from Heavy's birth. She doesn't really mind both of them, they happened, nothing to do about them.

She likes watching boxing competitions, brawling matches and motorcycle repairing on TV. Loves doing BBQ's and going to the pool. Also an enjoyer of teasing her kids, kissing and loving her husband at random times, spending time drinking and bonding with Ches and bragging about her family and punching anyone who thinks they're not that cool.

Not particularly a fan of make up, skirts and dresses or any traditionally femenine-perceived stuff. But has been making exceptions due to Glam and Ches being unashamed of being seen as femenine, and actually rocking the looks. The internalized misogyny is kind of slowly dissapearing.

Apart from the guns she carries in each arm (I mean her biceps, have you looked at the size of those?? She strong) she has brass knuckles on her at all times. Glam gifts her new ones sometimes, she loves having multiple choices to punch people teeth in.

Loves horror, thrillers and action movies. Falls asleep during rom-coms and dramas. Ironically, loves gossip and talking shit about people. Enjoys hearing Ches talks about the gossip going on in the nursery home even if she doesn't know who the hell he's talking about.

Rest of the family under the cut!

Heavy

Heavy is a trans boy! He doesn't know his sexuality yet though, he's still figuring himself out. When he's older, i think he definitely dated some men but had better luck with girls.

Heavy has had innocent crushes on some girls on his class before, but they never turn into anything more cuz he's not the best at expressing himself. He follows the bother-the-girl-to-death-until-she-hates-you gimmick, and unsurprisingly, it doesn't work.

I'm sorry to break this to u but Heavy totally had an among us phase, and uses so much reddit and twitch slang... You know he does.

Likes bullying and teasing his brother to death. You know that when Dee had his first romance, Heavy was ALL up in his business being a tease and a bad attempt at a wingman. He means well tho.

He's not squeamish at all. Also has great pain resistance. This kid has picked cockroaches with his bare hands and loves cats, of course the cats have scratched him. He's tough!

Grows up to be the charming himbo he was always destined to be.

Dee

I hc him as demisexual. Kind of inherited his dad's tastes for the takes no crap, intimidating but pretty kind of people.

Can't cook. He tries but he can only do basics like rice, cereal, chicken nuggets or eggs. Complicated meals always burn or don't taste like anything at all. It drives him crazy.

Dee was a quiet and very well behaved toddler before Heavy was born. He never threw tantrums or got whims. After Heavy was born though, and despite the fact he understood his brother was small and needed special care, he started craving attention often and cried and got mad at little things. Typical jealousy of the oldest sibling.

The first time Dee fell in love with someone, he didn't recognize it was love at first. He just thought his interest on the person was born out of curiosity and aesthetic attraction, but as soon as he realized he seeked validation and companionship, that he liked seeing them smile, that he wanted to protect them, that he yearned for more time alone with them and that he wanted more than what just a simple friendship implied, it was an instant 'oh hell no'. He wanted those feelings to get the hell away, but unfortunately, they were there to stay.

Canonically likes MLP, psychological and horror anime like Death note and Hellsing, so I'm deciding he also watched Death Parade, had a FNAF phase, is very into The Walten Files. This guy enjoys any kind of specially dark ARG's and knows a ton of lore of real crime, unsolved cases, ghost appearances and other stuff. Doesn't believe in the supernatural, but sure is entertained by it.

He's a mess at romance. Flirting? His attempts at compliments are hardly flattering. Giving gifts? The best he can manage is jewelry and you can kind of tell he asked his dad for help. Dates? He's so nervous he's silent for most of it, but begins getting comfortable and having fun if his partner really knows how to get him down from his negativity cloud.

Ches

Pansexual.

He's very good with kids. He has the patience of a saint and he's laid-back, chill and fun but still is an authority figure who knows how to put limits. Sure, he's gonna let the kids light up a house on fire BUT hey, now they know everything about fire precautions, burns and how to treat them AND how to get away with arson. What an educational evening, am I right?

Due to certain info from the "Goodbye" official comic, I headcanon Ches as depressed. I don't want to elaborate a lot 'cuz of spoilers, but... God, everything related to his mom fucking hurts, man. How did he deal with all that?

Ches has been Dee and Heavy's babysitter so many times he cannot count them with all his fingers. He learned how to put those kids to sleep almost immediately (Sing Bon Jovi's "This ain't a love song" and any cheesy love song in a slow lullaby style and they're out), which movie were their favorite as kids (Heavy loved 'Monsters Inc.' and Dee never looked away during 'Meet the Robinsons'), how to console them after nightmares (Heavy needed reassurance, sweet words, and to be with someone until he fell asleep again. Dee just had to be tucked in, get his nightlight turned on and kissed in the forehead). He practically raised those kids along with Vicky and Glam.

More than once, Dee and Heavy have slipped and called Ches "Dad". Ches immediately gets his shit eating grin on and answers "Yes, son?" and does a couple of dad jokes just to mess and embarrass them. He's actually very flattered and surprised at how proud of himself he is for being a father figure to both kids.

Has a scar on the left side of his forehead due to a bottle his mom threw at him when he was younger, around the time he met Glam. He hates the scar with passion, it's a permanent reminder of the fact she never cared, that's why he always keeps it covered with his headband. Gets sad about it sometimes.

Ches likes to spend his time with a group of grannies of the nearby nursing home. He genuinely considers them his friends and gossips and hangs out with all of them on weekends. Bingo, billiards, walks in the park, soap opera marathons, you name it. I even designed them, gave them names and backstories... God, i just love the concept too much. I'll make some art about Ches and his granny gang FOR SURE, you're NOT ready for them.

Carries a pocket knife on him at all times. This man grew up on a bad neighborhood and absolutely knows how to defend himself, he can be intimidating when he wants to be and will pose a threat if needed. He's fucking terrifying when genuinely mad. Just cause he looks harmless doesn't mean he is, darling.

That would be all!

[arlertwifey]

so you're dating armin, huh?

pairing: armin arlert x gn!reader | genre: fluff, modern!au, headcanons

a/n: part 1 of my 'so your dating _____, huh?' series: a series of modern!au headcanons about the cast (and what dating them would entail). feel free to let me know who you'd be interested in hearing about next!

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI - my blog and works are 18+ only!!

🌻- Definitely an early riser. Usually likes to get something productive done in the mornings, whether it's classwork for his grad program, or leftover paperwork for his internship. Always eats breakfast and drinks at least two cups of coffee to get his day started. He doesn't feel fully awake if he hasn't eaten.

🌻- When he's got some free time (certainly when you've stayed over) he likes to experiment with fancy breakfast recipes—especially seasonal ones.

🌻- However he can be persuaded (i.e. bribed with kisses) to have a lazy morning in bed if that is what you would prefer

🌻- Even though he keeps his apartment neat naturally, definitely always does a little panic-clean before you come over, even after you've been together for a while.

🌻- Somewhat indecisive when it comes to decor, but leans toward warmer neutrals, light blues, and, dark wood furnishings. Keeps soy candles in every room because he likes the ambience, his favorite is a toss up between 'freshly baked cookies' and 'clean laundry' scent.

🌻- Has a very large aquarium with a few fish that he dotes on. Will happily tell you anything and everything you'd like to know about them (including the birthdays that he decided on for them).

🌻- Lots of post-it notes with various to-do lists that keep his life in a sort of "ordered-chaos' state

🌻- May or may not occasionally stick a post-it note to your forehead with something sweet jotted down on it, when he has to leave early

🌻 - The absolute best person to get takeout food with. He thinks spreadsheets are fun (and a good way to practice for data logging for research work in the future) so he catalogues the various places you two have eaten at

🌻- That said, he does tend to prefer to eat-in and cook his own meals, because he likes to be able to customize recipes to fit the two of your preferences

🌻- Always wears patterned socks that almost never match (if they do, it's purely by chance as he just puts on the first two he grabs that are clean and the same-ish length).

🌻- While he's not particularly interested in fashion, he has a soft spot for matching couples accessories. Once you've been together for a while he gets you two matching sets of pajamas with your initials on them

🌻- And if you want to coordinate your looks for a date, he's more than happy to oblige :)

🌻- On the subject of dates, while he likes going out and doing various activities, he definitely leans towards quiet and contemplative dates

🌻- He's a big fan of long walks on days when the weather allows and enjoys just spending time with you, even if you two are absorbed in work or personal projects

🌻- 1000% into making those diy facemask recipes from youtube with you on nights that you sleep over

🌻- He's not someone who naturally falls asleep while cuddling, he prefers to have personal space while falling asleep. However, he will find any excuse to snuggle close to you before the both of you are seriously trying to fall asleep (or while you're sitting on the couch, or making dinner, or doing pretty much anything).

🌻- That said, he's a chronic sleep-cuddler, so on the rare occasions that he wakes up after you, be prepared to deal with having him cling to you like there' no tomorrow

🌻- Blushes easily about literally anything, no matter how long the two of you have been together

🌻- Really into holding hands, has a habit of swinging your arms together when walking

[himitsu-luna]

Headcanon

࣪𑁍˖՚༹⌒ Domestic chores with Nct 127 ⌒ ༹՚˖𑁍 ࣪

ᨳ☆‧˚Taeil

Taeil always feels kinda discouraged to start doing the chores, and he drags you along on procrastinating with him

"Come here, Y/N, stay with me a little bit more! Let's cuddle five more minutes, okay?". You agree, ofc, and you stay on the bed for a little too long, talking about the zillion things you have to do, but not having the guts to leave each other's arms.

When you start cleaning the house though, he really gets into it. No dirty spots and no dusty surfaces escape his strong hands.

He plays the most random songs, from classic music to heavy EDM, and you vibe together while doing the chores, bouncing with your brooms in hands and spinning your stained cloths in the air.

In the kitchen, he always gladly cooks for you. But after a long tiring day doing domestic chores, you both agree on ordering some food, spending the night just chilling, watching a movie in the middle of which Taeil probably will fall asleep.

ᨳ☆‧˚Johnny

Johnny is the one who organizes the chores at home. He assigns what each one needs to do, and there you go, his high energy overflowing from his body, encouraging you and providing you the ignition you needed.

"I clean up here, you clean down there" - he says with a suspicious smirk. You don't know if he is making fun of you or if he is being considerate.

He needs his coffee pauses, and he makes you take a break too. You talk about the most random daily things, which always leads to precious bonding moments, the kitchen getting filled with laidback laughs.

Then you continue your activities, in your own pace, jamming to some soft background music.

Johnny likes to offer you rewards. "If we finish this today, I'll buy us some nice ice cream, and then I'll take you to the movies. Deal?"

ᨳ☆‧˚Taeyong

Taeyong has the most endearing way of convincing you that it's time to do some domestic chores. "Y/N, come hereeee! It's time for a couple activity!! I even got us matching rubber gloves, look!"

He doesn't let you do heavy tough stuff though. But when you see him struggling by himself and run to help him, he gives you the most precious smile, full of admiration and gratitude. A cute "Thank yoou!" (yes, in his cute english <3) leaves his mouth.

But there's one thing about doing chores with him that is a bit trick: he loves to rearrange the furniture and decoration. It's always extra tiring, but you have to give him the credit for your house being so cool and stylish.

Taking care of your pets is something that consumes a lot of time, but Taeyong does everything with happiness and sparkly eyes.

He makes sure you have some breaks, to keep hydrated and to eat something. He will prepare you some sandwiches, while you start to plan a little trip to the grocery shop.

ᨳ☆‧˚Yuta

Yuta and you have this synchronicity and telepathy. You think "I guess it's time to sweep the front yard". You get your broom and everything, and when you step out the house, Yuta is already there, cleaning everything.

"Oh, you had the same idea! Well, you can...", he says. "Oh, I guess I will...", you start. "....do the laundry.", you two say at the same time, smiling at each other.

He tries to do things in "Marie Kondo style". He takes a long time folding your clothes, but it's worth the effort. Your wardrobe is a beautiful piece of art.

If he thinks something is dangerous for you, he definetely won't let you do it. Changing the lamp? No no no! It's not that he thinks you're not capable of doing things, he knows you can do anything. He just can't live with the possibility of you getting hurt.

After a day of hard work, you take a warm bath together, and stay in bed for the rest of the night.

ᨳ☆‧˚Doyoung

Like Johnny, Doyoung assigns the chores. He knows the things each one of you is good at.

But he is the type of person that sees you doing something, and automatically says "Wait baby, let me do it for you", or starts helping you, out of habit.

For example: you're doing the dishes, you wash part of the things in the sink, and then you start to rinse them. Doyoung takes the opportunity to sneakily snatch the dish sponge and, it's too late, he won't give it back to you. "Don't get used to it though", he says with a little grin. You grin back, because you lost count of how many times you've heard this same sentence.

You have a lot of plants at home, and Doyoung treats them like real babies. He even bought one for you, a baby tree of your favorite fruit.

Cooking is his thing, so he makes sure you have a nice, delicious and nutricious meal everyday.

ᨳ☆‧˚Jaehyun

Jaehyun will gladly do anything you ask him to do with the best of intentions, and he does his best to help.

He looks at the weather forecast to see when it's a good day to do the laundry, he sorts the garbage for recycling, he researches the supermarkets with the best prices, and does other little things that seem unimportant, but that are truly essential.

He likes vaccuing very dirty places. The satisfaction he gets from seeing the clean path that the vaccum leaves among the dirty is priceless.

But he is clumsy, so you know you can't let him get near the fragile stuff. So the kitchen is a little bit dangerous for him

If he can't help you with something, he makes sure to support you, like a real cheerleader. "Oh yessss honey! You're doing great, wow!That's my baby!!", he says, already massaging your shoulders.

ᨳ☆‧˚Winwin

Winwin sees you getting ready to start cleaning, and he asks you what he can do to help, while wearing your spare cute apron, which makes you smile like a fool.

He follows you and do what you do, ocasionally asking you if the things he is doing are good enough.

He is extra careful when hanging the clothes out on the clothesline, making sure to spread them well to avoid any wrinkles. He knows none of you like ironing, and also you burned yourself once, and he doesn't want this to happen ever again.

He spends a considerable amount of time making your bed, changing the bed linen, tyding up the sheets and smoothing the pillows, so you can feel good in a clean space and relax with him after working hard all day long.

ᨳ☆‧˚Jungwoo

Jungwoo is very good at domestic chores. He is a tidy and organized person, so things go smoothly in your house

He has the ability of turning every boring task into a pleasant and funny experience. Out of sudden you're having a broomstick battle. Out of sudden you're blowing soap bubbles. Out of sudden you're with white flour blots all over your face, after a spontaneous flour smudge battle.

For your surprise, he is excelent on fixing things. His creativity helps him a lot, along with a couple of YouTube videos and a degree on engineering.

Times just flies by his side, and you get surprised when you see the sun going down by your window, as he streches his back and says "we're finally done!", pulling you for a little celebration dance.

Jungwoo doesn't want to cook after doing domestic chores all day long. He orders an amount of food that could feed well ten people, and you eat a lot while watching some nice series.

ᨳ☆‧˚Mark

Mark always tries his best at everything. He knows he is a little bit clumsy, so he does things carefully. Thank God he has spider senses.

A chore that is supposed to be finished in ten minutes takes thirty to be completed, but it's completely fine, because you know it will be perfectly done.

He used to get confused with all the types of cleaning products, but he eventually learned about them all and now he knows anything's purpose just by smeling it. "Mmmm very soft floral smell, must be clothes soap/ Very strong and citric, I guess this is disinfectant" (pls people, don't be like this, it's dangerous for everyone!!!)

At the end of the day, he is so satisfied looking at your team work. You can see it on his little proud smile, while he runs an arm over your shoulders and distractedly kisses your cheek.

ᨳ☆‧˚Haechan

Haechan whines for two minutes before starting doing chores, but he is a man of action after all. "The sooner we start it, the sooner we'll finish it", he says to himself.

You play rock paper scissors to decide who will be the one that will do the unpleasant chores, like cleaning the bathroom and taking the garbage out.

But hearing your heavy sigh after losing for him makes him go "ahh ok, I'll do it, don't worry, but it will cost you twenty kisses!"

He doesn't stop singing while doing the chores. He is like a walking karaoke machine,he knows every song you ask him to sing.

When he cooks for you, you often catch him talking to his mom on the phone, asking her about that dish you liked so much the last time you visited her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

•° Thanks anon, for the request!! I hope you like it!

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•° Masterlist

...

[all-things-fic]

Spoilin’ for a Fight

A/N: Happy Sunday loves! Hope you’ve all had a lovely and restful weekend. No, your eyes aren’t deceiving you... I have indeed (finally) posted another piece of writing. Here’s 6.7k of Harry riling up his partner all because of a bloody vest.

Thank you as always for all the love and patience everyone has given me. Especially @waitingfortwilight, @haute-romance-quotidienne and @harryfeatgaga. Hopefully this lives up to any hype the sneak peek created! I’m going to disappear again .x 

***

You rolled your lips into your mouth as you watched him walk his way around your master bedroom. His movements were confidently familiar as he tucked his vest into the waistband of his white boxer-briefs and kept his eyes down to the dress shirt and trousers he had laid out across your bedspread, sitting next to choice accessories. 

He was running late. Both you and he knew it. Yet the leisurely motions he undertook would never have told you that if you didn’t already know. The way he had taken longer in the shower, carelessly stepped out of the towel (and stepped over it too, meaning the item was now damp and in a bunched up pile closer to Harry’s side of the bed waiting for someone to put it in the laundry basket) and meandered his way through getting ready. 

Boxers first, then black ankle socks. Then the bloody vest. 

You exhaled through your nose, trying not to release a breath that would catch his attention and let him know that you were becoming slightly vexed by how lackadaisical he was choosing to be.

The vest had to go.

Not even in a sexual way either. 

And it wasn’t the fact that it just wasn’t doing it for you - on the contrary it was quite the opposite, the tight item clearly letting you ogle and appreciate the fine specimen you were proud to call your partner - but it was just how much of grandad-move it was.

You understood how having some sort of undershirt kept his actual shirt looking pristine acting as a defensive layer between his body and his clothing.

But, the vest had to go. 

It just had to.

Blindly reaching down to your dresser for your tube of mascara, you unscrewed the gold lid and coated the wand with product. 

Mouth slightly fallen, you washed your lashes with the High Density Black mascara and quickly made the switch to the other eye making sure to get your bottom lashes too. 

Looking at Harry through the mirror, you wondered what he could be debating as he stood silently in the middle of the room. A soft frown traced his brow, his eyes looking down at the bed. His hands were digging into his waist, as his lips jutted slightly in thought. 

Your conclusion was that he was debating his outfit choice for the evening. 

Lid gently screwed back on, you placed your mascara into your cosmetic vanity, before then reaching out for your brow gel. A quick brush through each side and you were done with that step.

You happened to quite like his outfit choice. It was a little less formal than usual for one of your dinners. Classic houndstooth patterned trousers and smart black shirt. The kind of material that made a scratching noise which was music to your ears as you clawed at your man, wanting him closer. Whether that was in the booth of a restaurant, on the car ride home while you were sat at a red traffic light, or when he had you pinned against the locked door for your house. 

Eyes dropping, you watched as your hands - with freshly lacquered nails - gently drew the opening of your silky-satin dressing gown together as it started to gape. 

From your fidgeting, Harry’s attention was stolen by the movement he had seen in his peripherals and when you next looked up at him in the mirror you were met by his already awaiting gaze.

His face looked worn, as his still slightly damp hair fell across his forehead. Lines lingered in his skin from the way his head was tilted and his arms were bent as his hands faffed around with what appeared to be a trinket box. He must’ve reached for it at some point while you were otherwise occupied. 

Gold cross dipping underneath the neckline of the vest, the width of his chest seemed to be getting wider the longer you kept your eyes on his reflection. In moments like this you always became hyper aware of the amount of tattoos that were scattered across his body - arms, shoulders and chest. If you were able to let your eyes drop lower, you were sure the ones of his legs would be just as vivid.

But while everything else about him just seemed content in the moment, his eyes were different. They were strong as they held yours. Waiting for something. 

And you knew you couldn’t keep his gaze as you let your words leave your throat, albeit with less conviction than you originally thought them.

If you were after a bicker before dinner then he was absolutely going to bite and give you what you wanted. You just knew it. 

“You’re not going out in that, are you?”

“‘S there a problem ‘f I am?”

A charged pause.

Harry’s remark was shot out instantly, on yours as fast as a predator was on their prey. 

Inhaling deeply through your nose, you looked back at him through the mirror. A slant to his lips as he waited once more.

Gentle raise of his eyebrows. Faint but definitely there. Goading. Knowing you would be so aware of every moment, every twitch with your eye for detail. His eyes shone in a way that he was daring you.

Oh, he was spoiling for a fight. Most definitely. 

See, this wasn’t new territory for you and Harry. He knew that it sometimes got on your last nerve in how he opted for a vest to cover his top half as an undershirt but especially when he only wore that as the item of choice and simply slung a suit jacket over the top to complete the outfit. 

Like that one time when he attended The Store X The Vinyl Factory's Transformer exhibition and swung by your then rented London townhouse after said event in the small hours only for you to chastise him on the doorstep for how he hadn’t even put on a proper shirt for the evening. 

That night he had teased you - “‘least let me in the door before you start dressing me down, darling. Especially considering ‘m halfway there with not putting on a clean shirt an’ everythin’” - in that slow draw that maddeningly managed to warm you through even when you were irritated with it’s orator. 

Blinking, you knew you needed to respond but you weren’t sure which route you wanted to take with your tact. 

“Not a problem, ‘s just not my favourite.”

“Didn’t realise we’d become tha’ sorta couple,” he paused, his sentence obviously not finished. When your eyes met his again, he continued, “The kind that tells the other what they can and can’t wear, can and can’t do.”

Sighing, you fiddled with your diamond earrings and spoke, “Forget I said anything.” 

“No, no,” he spoke clearly, ringless hands rising in defeat. “You don’t like the vest, ‘s fine. Allowed an opinion.”

“Nice to know.”

A suppressed laugh spluttered from Harry’s lips as he pressed them together. 

Looking at him again, you watched him wrinkle his nose up at you through the mirror. By now your gaze was flat and you were far from impressed with his taunting.

“Come on,” he encouraged, eyes alight.  “‘S have a row.” 

“I’d rather not.”

“‘S healthy to tell me to piss off every once in a while, y’know tha’?”

“So, piss off.”

“Ouch,” he dragged the word, playing offended. “Could say it wi’a bit less conviction next time.”

“That’s if we make it to a next time,” you muttered, seeing his smirk. “‘M not doing this.”

He watched the way you snatched at your other earring, your hands quick to try and place it gently to your lobe but in your haste you fell foul of losing the item. 

“Shit,” you hissed when the dainty jewellery slipped from your grip and to the wooden floor below with a dull clink. 

“Hang on-“

“It’s fine,” you rebutted any chance of his offering to help, swiping for the earring and managing to make good the second time around. 

There was tension in the air now as Harry remained quiet while you continued busying yourself, ignoring the bubble of annoyance and unexplained upset simmering within you.

Gently scooping at your necklace next, you fiddled with the clasp of the fine chain and tilted your neck down as you raised your hands and arms to place the necklace onto yourself. 

From behind you, Harry nervously chewed at his bottom lip. He knew the outcome wasn’t going to go well as he looked on at your slightly shaking hands struggling to successfully bring the two sides together. 

Rather than point out the possibility of ruining the nails that you had endlessly chewed his ear about all afternoon and constantly stuck under his nose to show off; he waited with baited breath, more than willing to step in if required.

It was when he heard the small and soft growl omit from your mouth with sheer frustration that he decided to change tact.

Gone was the trinket box, tossed aimlessly back onto the bed with a soft bounce. His hands gently placed to rest against taut shoulders, Harry leaned down to press his lips to the top of your head. Nose tickled by your hair he muttered into the silky strands, “Let me, darling.”

You froze as you sat in your seat, eyes still slightly lowered from the way you had dropped your head. Frantically blinking as you mulled over how you were going to play your next move. 

Harry hummed, noticing that you had gone quiet on him, knowing you wouldn’t want to engage with him just yet considering how soon he had previously provoked. He just had to wait it out a little more. 

A slump came to your shoulders at his words, partially irked at how he had been the one to coil your spring - pushing and pressing and prodding - and now he thought he could be the one to so easily offer you release. 

“Let me just-,” he spoke more so to himself, cutting himself off, as he scooped your hair into his hands and mumbled soft apologies considering he knew you had spent some time on styling. 

When he was happy that your neck was open enough and there wasn’t going to be anything to hinder him with your tresses over one shoulder, he reached for the item. 

Harry’s right hand met yours first, his thumb and forefinger easily pinching at the delicate chain that he knew so well having been the person to pick and purchase the item. 

Surprised at how easily you gave up the treasure, Harry darted his eyes to your left side and reached for the other side of the fine chain. 

“Have you got it?” You were reluctant to let the one side of the necklace go, in fear of losing the pendant that was currently bouncing against your chest from the way you held the jewellery item. 

Again, a throaty hum vibrated through Harry’s chest. 

“Which idiot chose the finicky clasp?”

“You did,” you outright answered him.

He chuckled in concentration, eyes zoned in on the way his thumbnail pressed at the clasp to hold it down, and his left hand fed itself to the right. “‘S right, I did. Fucking big idiot over ‘ere.”

You then felt the chain gently tickle the back of your neck as Harry let the item go. “But he’s only gone an’ bloody done it.”

Lightly sighing, you pressed your hand to your chest and felt the necklace sitting cooly against your hotter than usual skin. A soft smile at Harry’s choice of words to let you know he had successfully put on the necklace. 

Slightly inside your own head as you raised it to sit up straight, you quickly busied yourself with returning items that you had been using to get ready, to their rightful spots.

Behind you, you heard Harry chuckle as he gently dropped himself down to sit on the edge of your side of the bed. He was clearly amused at how you still couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 

“Ignoring me now? Not even gonna gi’me a thank you?”

If you hadn’t been so stubborn, and focused on the task at hand you would have heard his question and thanked him. However, given your own bloody-mindedness, you never stood a chance. 

Learning forward, Harry’s hand reached down to one of the four legs that made up your dressing table pouffe - the one closest to him - and swiftly pulled. 

Of course, you squealed. The quick change in motion was enough to cause anyone to omit a noise fit only to dogs hearing due to its pitch. 

“‘Ve got yer,” he spoke around a chuckle, enlightened by your reaction as the chair scraped against the flooring and made it so you were virtually sat in his lap. “If the mountain won’t come to Mohammed...”

Sharply, you turned to look at him and pushed at his shoulder. “Hope you’re not implying-“

“Wha’,” his expression was boyishly cheeky as he cut you off with his question, his hand keeping hold of yours that had pushed his shoulder. “What am I implying?”

Nostrils flared as you looked at him, feeling your arm slowly wrap around his neck as he tried to pull you closer once more on the chair. Legs man spread, he managed to slot you in between his thighs and enjoyed the way your soft knees squashed into his inner thigh from how close you now were. 

“I’m implying what the proverb is implying,” he smarmily responded, forever having an answer for everything.

“Is that so?”

“It is,” he turned, noting the way your arm was still draped around his neck.

“Shame that,” you commented. “Cause if you were alluding to the other thing then you would’ve really gotten the fight you were looking for.”

Harry’s eyes cut to you from the corner of his vision, his lips now pressed gently against your forearm. “Would I? If that’s the case, I take it back.”

Again your nostrils flared, as you mumbled a veiled threat of, “Swear to god, Harry.”

“So, so easy to wind up-“

Harry’s voice was abruptly cut off when your fingers came into contact with the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled as hard as you could. His only response was to gently graze his teeth to the skin of your arm and the silk of the gown in the tiniest of nips as he ascended to your neck.  

“D’yeh know how much I love fighting with you?” He mumbled against your skin, “How much I love doing anything and everything with you?”

“Have a feeling you’re going to tell me,” you swallowed around your dry response, feeling his lips quirk against the shoulder of your silk gown as he gently brushed your hair away once more.

With it falling down your back, you became all too aware of the gape to your coverup, revealing your clavicle and the top of your breast, as Harry’s lips rubbed against where your neck and shoulder met. 

Growl-like hum heard from your suitor, you gently pushed your finger through his drying hair. Forcing it in haphazard directions before bringing it back and smoothing it down. 

When he showered you with affection like he was currently doing, it was hard to stay mad at him. Which is why you found the direction of conversation so intriguing. What was he trying to achieve here? Whatever it was, he really was going the wrong way about it. 

“Know why I love fighting?” He felt you shake your head lightly as he brought you back to him with the question. The rustle of your hair against his was heard prominently in your ears as he now lightly rested his forehead to your temple. “Yea’, you do,” he disagreed with your non-verbal response, tone gritty as he tried to rouse once more. 

“‘S cause I love shagging when we’re angry,” he heavily pressed his nose into your cheek, knowing you were watching him through the hooded eyelids regardless of how you wouldn’t fully let your gaze meet his long enough to be suckered in. “How you really dig your nails into my back an’ shoulders when I properly get going - not to mention my arse cheeks - and how it feels when I step under the shower the next morning and wince like a little wuss.”

You laughed breathily, stopping your feelings of joy by biting down on your bottom lip. Laughter however played on your lips, lingering in a soft smile that danced along and up the corners of your mouth.

“Fight me, darling.” 

Amused didn’t even cover it as you pulled your head back in a slightly uncomfortable way to look at him. The smoulder of his dilated eyes that were clearly set on what he wanted, they jarred so evidently against his messy hair that looked fit for a toddler who had woken from a heavy nap.

He seemed awfully whiny for a man who was confident with what he wanted. Supposed to be the instigator of an exchange of diverging or opposite views, creating most likely a heated happening. Then again, maybe he was onto something.

Soft frown set in the middle of his brows, his eyes dropped so brazenly down to your lips. A quick swipe of your tongue had them glistening enticingly for him as saliva lingered and caused his groan to get caught in his throat. 

Hand against the back of your head, he tilted your face down to his once more and let his mouth sit at the corner of your lips. Your breathing and his had started to become staccato, as anticipation bubbled within you both from your shared close proximity. 

“‘M waiting,” you challenged knowing he would rise up to the provocation, as his hand turned you face a tiny amount more so when he stuck his nose against yours, so they would slot perfectly together.

Harry’s vision blurred as he felt your warm breath bounce against his face, licking his own lips now and rolling them into his mouth to take away any dryness. 

Hand drawing you to him and mouth about to take your bottom lip, he felt the soft draw back of your head causing his lips to tweak as his breathy laugh mixed within his short and sharp exhalations. 

“‘S tha’ how it’s gonna be?“

You fought the way your hooded eyes wanted to close at the gruff tone that laced his question, wanting to marvel in the glow that had started to coat the skin of his face. 

“Said you wanted a fight.”

No sooner had the words left your mouth were his lips abruptly upon yours. His hand spread across your entire cheek as your free hand reached for his wrist and tightly gripped. Noses squashed from the force; desperate to have each other. 

Harry's lips were fierce and bruising, his body feeling heavier against yours as he rested his other hand against your chair and gave you more of his weight. 

For him your smell was everywhere, as your other arm wrapped around his neck and clawed at the fabric of that bloody vest. The sweet of your hair care juxtaposed against the woody florals of your perfume that sensually drew and tied him to you.

Knees knocking together, you felt the way his hand stumbled as it peeled away from the chair and clawed at the silky fabric of your gown. Fingers quickly became frantic as his concentration moved to his hands that lifted fabric and slipped underneath craving the feel of your warm, soft skin.

With his mouth slightly slower and fallen as he was pulled elsewhere, you tried to take the lead as his hands wandered and he explored.

His hands were softer than usual, time away from music and instruments meaning the callouses had faded. Short nails were dull as they clawed, fingertips dancing against your plush thighs as they flattened to the seat and then upwards along your hip, scooping around your back and confidently spreading out just shy of the top of your bum.

God, he loved knowing you were completely naked underneath. How with a quick and sharp tug of his hand, he would have you bare to him.

Small press against your lower back had Harry silently asking you to raise and fall into his lap. You ignored him at first, far too wrapped up in the way he gave you his tongue around his quivering lips that were trying not to smile at the way the two of you were shamelessly necking on and he was managing to get his own way. 

Pressing your toes into the patterned antique Persian rug which sat underneath your bed, your body created a break between your thighs and their seat. Harry took advantage of the space without any need for a nudge, his hands curling against the clammier, warm skin as he urged you once more to come to him.

Your knees hit the side of your mattress first, lifting and mounting Harry’s lap and he moaned as he enjoyed your full weight against him. Fingers digging into the skin of your thighs, you felt him squeeze as he started to lower himself down to the bed.

Body laying atop an outfit priced easily in the early thousands, Harry hummed clearly letting you know how pleased he was with himself. This was only solidified by the crack of his hand, as it slapped against you bare bum cheek now on show. 

“Can’t believe you’ve got your arse in the air like this,” he rasped, head lifted so he could leave lingering kisses to the hinge of your jaw. 

Mouth slightly dropped, you could feel the way his right hand danced against the curve of your cheek and the way it dipped as it met the back of your thigh. 

His eyes were on your face, chin soft as he tilted his head down to his chest. You admired him, somehow able to find a stillness woven within a intoxicated, sensual love between the lewdish comments and suggestive wandering hands. 

Lips melding to the skin of your cheek, he asked,  “Who’re you showing it off to?”

“You, ‘f you want it like that.”

The coolness of the room hit your bare skin even more as Harry roughly pushed up the fabric of your gown up as he palmed your cheeks once more, skin massaged and squeezed between his digits.

Raw groan, he found his voice, “Turn over for me.” 

Harry slid himself closer to the side of bed, hands making light work of his socks and his briefs before he turned to throw you a glance over his shoulder.

You had removed your gown, item somewhere now on the floor revealing yourself to him proudly. 

As you lay gently on your stomach, the expanse of your bare back on show for him. He greedily let his eyes wander, the curvature of your shoulders and the indentation of your spine line. 

The way your right leg was slightly bent creating a crease to your hip and your left leg a little straighter. You certainly gave him plenty to devour with his sight. 

He didn’t give it much thought when he joined you back on the bed, his hands pressing into the mattress closer to your head.

Bare fingers caught your attention as you watched his hands scrunch around his expensive dress shirt, the familiar scratching sound music to your ears as it caught against his nails and not yours for once while he threw it to the floor at the bottom end of the bed.

“Doesn’t look like we’re going to make it to tha’ dinner,” he spoke, his words not really warranting an answer. Beside your hips, you could feel his knees as he leaned for the trousers on the other side of you and pushed them out of the way too.

He continued with, “Already late. ‘S no point.”

From the way he spoke you wondered if this was what he had been aiming for all along. To scrap dinner and have his way with you. It wouldn’t have been the first time and definitely not the last. 

Eyes already heavy from the deep lull of Harry’s voice, they closed when you felt his lips hit your back, making light work of inhaling you in. His mouth was wet as he reacquainted his lips with your skin, suckling the lower he got.

Nose gently sweeping down, you found yourself dropping your forehead to your forearm giggling from the light tickle, only to sharply cry out as his teeth sunk into the top of your cheek and your head lifted once more. 

Your hand reached behind you pressing against his forehead, “Don’t you dare leave a love bite on my bum.”

His lips twitched at your squealed but breathy chastise, tongue laving against the startings of a mark. “Always begrudging me of eating, darling.”

A devilish grin laced his features as you dared to look over your shoulder at him and take in his gaze that owlishly looked at you from behind your curved hip. All you could see were his eyes as your hand gently pushed his head while he pulled your hips upwards with him, lips skimming the backs of your thighs. 

“Mm,” he started. “Not everything though, ‘s tha’ right?”

The man simply didn’t want to part from his meal.

“You always did like dessert better.” 

There was nothing more Harry loved than when you let him put his face between your legs. But when you let him do it from behind, he couldn’t even explain the difference yet there was one.

Maybe it was the way he could grab and smack your arse, fingers digging into your hips as he got to pull you onto his face when things started to get hot and heavy. That animalistic grab to your hip bone, loins pulled onto his face as he went to town.

Even better when you would push back against him. So caught up in the way he felt that you couldn’t wait any longer. He could talk to you easier this way too, really coax you not only with the feel of his tongue but the words that dripped off it too. 

And then there was the possible anticipation of assplay. Tongue always ready and willing to stimulate if it were desired and communicated. 

The way his hands massaged you, softly pulling apart your rounded cheeks and opening you to the cool air of your bedroom almost stunned. Your body quickly gathered itself with a warm moan when you felt his warm salvia drip messily down onto your ass and your middle. 

Then he was leaning forward - lapping at your skin - lapping you up. Tongue greedy at your cheeks and folds, building his own desires before he actually ate. 

This was his starter. 

The most feminine gasp exited your open mouth when you felt his mouth land where you needed him the most, somewhat too cautiously for your liking at first but you knew he sometimes liked to play this game. You found yourself wiggling back, Harry’s hands wrapping around and squeezing into your thick thighs welcomingly when he knew you’d caught on. 

He hummed, pleased that you had fallen from his meek offerings and gave you more of his mouth. 

“There’s my girl.”

“H,” you panted, pressing your forehead onto your forearm. 

“Fuck,” he muttered against you, enjoying how you were letting him have a taste. Your sweetness quenching his starved fancy. 

You were wet, but he wanted you wetter. Just wet enough so that you were tacky when he tapped himself against you teasingly. 

With his eyes closed, Harry opened his mouth wider as he pulled your hips back to his lips. His nails dig into your skin as your hands clenched into the sheets beneath.

He worked slowly against you, tongue licking at your wetness and saliva mixing with your early arousal. Nose buried inside of you as he devoured you in a way that had you thinking he had been wanting you this way for weeks. A little bit rougher, grabbing you to him and not in the way that quickies usually brought. In a way that sex selfishly commanded sometimes. 

“God, baby-“ how was it always so- gratifying? 

With his eyes closed now as he tried to focus, Harry felt your body shuffle and his own limbs followed after you without restraint. Your bum became slightly raised as you pressed your arms deeper into the mattress due to the way you began to play with yourself.

Your fingers swiped upwards in gentle pulls against your clit, Harry’s mouth barely letting up. He must’ve figured out what you were doing though from your slight change in position as he hummed against your heat, light mutterings that you couldn’t make out. 

“‘S tha’ feel good?” he asked, voice hot as he pulled back to bring his focus onto the glide of your fingers against your wet and neglected clit. “Couldn’t wait, wanted to play.”

You knew you were slick, you could feel it but rather than feel embarrassed you found yourself without a care as you pushed yourself back again. His chuckle made you feel on fire, “Not done with me? Still need some more?”

His lips and tongue dove straight back in rather than wait for a verbal answer, feeling the way your legs widened further when he licked in a particular way. The smell and taste of you was everywhere, gleaming against him with a tackiness that was the perfect piece of free memorabilia. 

Breathing heavier, you both listened to every small gasp and light moan that was drawn from you. The sound of his lips pulling at you making a heat spread across your chest and down to your core.

Harry knew your reactions like the back of his hand, and was waiting for that one sound that was so sweet and enough to get him to cheekily pull away. 

The thought alone had his lips curving into a smile against you, as he felt you starting to clench against his tongue from your joint efforts of pleasure. 

“Harry,” you whispered, rushed. The slow burning feeling starting to form in the pit of your stomach as your fingers began to move with that little bit more fervour. “Want you.”

His mouth was away from you and against the skin of your bum cheek not long after, lips messily wiping as he moved them up your back leaving a trail of arousal in his wake as you felt yourself fall flat to the mattress as he mounted you. 

Hands pinched into the skin of your back, Harry pressed his pelvis against you. 

Feeling him nestled between the cheeks of your bum, caused your eyes to close. He was so full and hard for you, you couldn’t contain the throaty moan that accompanied his grind into the dip of your bum.

“‘M gonna fuck you,” he panted, hands sweeping your hair to one shoulder so his lips can find your skin again. “Want that, hm?”

Your fingers wove into the hair at the nape of his neck, as he craned his head to look at you. His left hand pressed into the bed, holding his entire weight as his right hand reached down for his leaking cock. 

“‘S this what you want- how you want it?” He goaded in question again, gently tapping himself against the skin of your bum before he slid himself down and watched as you slightly raised your own hips for him and started to reach behind you to encourage him to press his weight on top of you.

Harry lined himself up, pushing forward and shifting his eyes from his sinking cock and up your back to see your head dipping forward to fall between your shoulders. He knew he’d never grow tired of the welcomed blissful moan of ‘yes’ that always left your lips when he finally gave it to you.

Humming deeply, Harry bit around his smile as he started with shallow, teasing thrusts. A series of strokes that you found frustratingly sexy but knew as ones he wouldn’t be able to keep up due to his own insatiable desires. 

He swore, in the least teenage boy way possible, you were always tighter to him like this. Especially if you crossed your legs at your ankles behind him while he pushed into you. 

It was usually the position you adopted when you’d let him take you this way, however in the dusk evening he could feel that you had lifted your legs up so your calves were resting against his bum and holding him to you; cutting his shallow thrusting short to press and hold him deeper inside. 

As his pelvis flattened against your bum, he gritted his teeth and released a deep noise from the very back of his throat. The sound had you giggling, slightly wiggling your hips from beneath him, the moment quickly halted by one of his hands cupping at your skin.

“Darling, steady,” he warned.

“Come on,” you wiggled again. “Fuck me then.”

Pulling back, Harry nudged forward just as smooth, the intent behind his thrust obvious. Eyes dropped down he enjoyed the bounce of your cheeks from the force of his pelvis.

A content hum left your smiling lips as you jolted from each push of his hips; his grunts of exertion delightfully pleasurable as his hands pressed into the mattress next to your waist. 

Thrust measured - slow, hard and deep - knowing what they wanted and needed. How to get it too. Undulating and determined.

Harry’s eyes closed as he felt you squeeze him, your legs dropping away from the cheeks of his clenching arse and down to the bed with a soft bounce. You moved again and he followed, legs opening wider against the mattress beneath you both. 

The way your face was now half buried into the sheets, muffling your moans that were usually hot against his ear and coaxing him to places he was still dumbfounded he was able reach let alone find. 

Teeth gritted once more, he could feel the tightness in his limbs and lower back. The work of his hips was unyielding but you were opening up to him, only making him want to continue the steady rhythm. To push and pull. To chase.

And it was enough. It was nice. Simmering. And if you opened your legs just that little bit wider you could rub yourself against the sheets but you wanted to give as good as you could get. Being engulfed wasn’t going to give you that. 

“Give it to me,” you requested, “Harder, baby.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Really need it, don’t yer?”

He pulled you upwards, hands at the curve of your waist so his fingers indented and left lighter marks against your skin from the pressure.

Now on your knees he could really have his way with you. 

Soon the sound of your skin slapping together only started to add to the growing fire in the pit of his stomach and yours. The sound of it so obscene but so welcomed to both your ears. 

Harry’s eyes raked over your naked body, the pert cheeks of your arse bouncing enticingly against his hips, to the tops of your fingers that were fisting tightly into your bedsheets. Knuckles so prominent due to the unrelenting grip.

He had noticed that your body was on its way to folding in on itself, arms stretching above your head and hands finding purchase on your plush bed pillows closer to the top of the bed that had been reached and pulled for by your own lack of knowing what to do with your hands.

“D’ya love me?”

His question was so gritty. Throat dry from his heavy breathing. You found yourself collapsing again. 

Your body, in its lethargy, started to curl up into itself with hands pressed down and your legs bent as your arse begins to bob more against him rather than thrust itself back.

“Said d’ya love me.”

He was sharp with his thrust.

“So much-“

It was wet and it was gasped. Low moan as he cracked his hand against your cheek.

“‘S tha’ the sex talkin’,” he heaved goadingly, and you knew he was smiling. It wasn’t the sex talking, but it could be. Both so taken by the waves of pleasure that could easily sway even the most sound of minds.

You whined into your arm from his smarmy laugh, a writhe to your hips as Harry licked at his thumb and pressed it enticing against your arse. Gentle rubs had you gasping his name and pressing back, as his thumb slid down to collect your arousal that was sat coating your outer walls and his cock each time he retreated.

As you became more excited, his thumb pressed against you with a bit more pressure, gently popping inside and sitting there. 

“Harry,” you whined, the loudest you could around biting your lips, a soft frown forming against your brow at the pleasurable intrusion. 

“You fuckin’ love it,” he growled, watching as you pushed back against his next thrust. “You dirty mare.” 

Heavy frown against your brow, you dropped your head onto your forearm once more and felt yourself start to clench around him. “Yea’,” he muttered to himself, “You’re coming.” 

Nodding your head against your forearm, you felt his free hand rest onto yours that was pushed above your head. He pressed down, fingers slotting through yours as he grunted in time with his harder thrusts into you.

With shaking thighs and aching knees, you feel your mouth fall as his teeth grazed over your ear and his heavy pants warmed your already perspiring cheeks. 

“Don’t fight me,” he pleaded. “‘S nice to give in.”

His head was heavy against your temple, your hair messily in your face. You felt your expression fall as you teetered, starting to lean slightly more to one side. He was nodding, you didn’t know who to but you knew what about and you found yourself craving his narration of whispered ‘yeses’ but instead you were both overcome and the best he can do was huskily groan to encourage you.

Suddenly it tipped and your limbs started to shake as you pressed back against him both in want of more but more so to ground yourself so you didn’t collapse. He stuttered from your vigour but held you there, feeling you helplessly writhe and mercilessly squeeze around him. His cock grinding and dipping into you, drawing out each tremor, desperately seeking its own sexual gratification.

Your other hand was wrapped around his face, fingers digging into the back of his neck and whispering begs for him to come inside of you. Pleas of how you want him to give it to you. Fill you up.

And you were lewd because sometimes that was how he liked it.

Such a pretty face and pretty mouth - yours - speaking to him in such a way. Admonishment was forgotten. Who needed or cared for it when his balls were pulling up tight with each slap against you. 

And then he collapsed against you. His thighs roughly spread you as he clenched and groaned deeply - guttural - giving you everything he had. 

Blood rushed around his ears as he shuddered and shook, the force of his orgasm causing his hips to continue with little pushes just to be sure he was done. Lost to himself, the silence and his sensitivity. 

He roused to your dirty snicker, one of disbelief. Right hand wrapping behind to feel for his arse cheek and digging your nails there, wanting to keep him deep inside, or just behind you for long enough to feel him pressed flaccid and wet against your cheeks. 

The filthy reminder caused you to flush, as Harry shuffled behind you, lips seeking out your clammy skin. 

“Make you mad more often, ‘f tha’s my private penance.”

His words were muffled, spoken into your shoulder as his hands soothed and massaged over your joints in preparation for the aching reminders tomorrow. 

And the vest was still on. 

[keanureevesisbae]

But professor… - c.4

Summary: Penny is going to see her professor for the first time again after they kissed.

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 5.1k

Warnings: Thunderstorms (?)

Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

The next day it’s time for my criminology class, the first one I’ll have after our kiss. I haven’t spoken to Walter since the kiss, because a) it was literally yesterday and b) after I told him I was going to bed, I actually went to bed and fell asleep.

To make matters even worse, our meeting isn’t even gonna be in a private setting.

It’s in lecture hall setting.

Despite me falling asleep not long after I arrived home, I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t fall back to sleep. Since I was hungry, I decided to have some late night snacks, but I am incapable of eating normally, because I totally spilled some sauce on Walter’s sweater.

In other words: I had a little early morning laundry moment.

With Walter’s sweater neatly folded in my backpack, I take a deep breath for some encouragement, as I walk into the lecture hall. There are already around ten other students in their seats and Walter sits on the edge of his table, as he reads through his notes. He looks up, but his expression barely changes. Emphasis on barely. There is a slight shift in his eyes, but it’s hardly noticeable if you don’t know him that well. ‘Morning, miss Townsend.’

Like nothing ever happened between us.

‘Good morning, sir,’ I say, before walking up to my assigned seat. I should not let out a sigh of relief, but I still do. I tell myself I shouldn’t be this nervous, however it’s an impossible task. My leg moves up and down in a restless pace and my jaw is painfully clenched.

I try my best, but it is out of question to focus on the entire class. Thankfully, Walter must’ve noticed that my brain is everywhere but in this class, because he doesn’t call out my name once. For the first time in forever I don’t have any questions about the assignment, so when a few other students hang around after class, I manage to sneak passed them and make my way to the library.

My brain really is malfunctioning, because I keep staring at my screen, unable to do anything slightly productive. I look into my backpack, to see Walter’s sweater. About an hour has passed and maybe… Maybe I could bring it to him now?

I grab my phone and decide to just send him a text. I can take the first step after yesterday, right? I’m a big girl.

Me: Can I come over to your office now?

I don’t get an answer straight away, which is only fueling up the doubt that has been brewing inside my heart. Not quite the big girl after all.

What if he thought this was a mistake? Oh shit, the kiss was terrible, he hated it and I should therefore never ever kiss again!

My breathing stops when I see his answer.

Walter: Of course, princess 💕

I swallow hard. This is a good sign, right? The heart emoji and the nickname that led me to internally screaming all night indicate he didn’t think the kiss was terrible, what we did wasn’t a mistake and that we should totally kiss again.

Right?

The hallways are empty, as a lot of people are already back at their dorms due to the bad weather that is forecasted for later today. Normally, I would do the same, but I think I lingered around campus, so I had a chance of talking to Walter. I walk towards his office and knock on his door. I hear a deep and annoyed: ‘Come in’ and I take it as my cue to open the door.

‘Hello,’ I say, ‘you sure I can come in?’

He looks up from his desk and smiles. Small crowfeet appearing near the corners of his eyes, a tiny bit of evidence that he is genuinely happy to see me. ‘Of course Penny,’ he says, standing up from his seat. He walks towards the corner of his office, lifting some stuff up,  to reveal a chair. He places it on the other side of his desk. ‘Please, take a seat,’ he says, holding out his hand.

All of this trouble for me? ‘I wasn’t planning on staying long.’

‘Doesn’t matter,’ he says, waiting for me to take place on the chair and I quickly do so. When he sits on his own chair again, he asks: ‘How are you?’

That’s such a sweet and darling question of him. ‘I’m okay. I just came by to give you your sweater back.’ I pull it out of my bag and say: ‘Thank you for lending it to me.’

He nods. ‘Of course.’

‘I washed it,’ I add, ‘since I kinda dropped some hot sauce on it. I hope you like my laundry detergent.’

I hand it over the table to him and he presses his nose against the fabric. ‘It smells great, thanks.’

I smile at him, since I can’t really stop it. He is so different around me, then he is when he’s a professor. There is no annoyance, no boredom. Only adoration if I’m correct. It feels good to be on the receiving end of it. ‘That was all actually. For once I don’t have questions.’

‘I see,’ Walter says. ‘You got a lot of work to do?’

I shake my head. ‘No, not really. Just your class.’

He chuckles. ‘I’m sorry about that.’

‘Don’t worry about it. Anyways, I should go. I have a few things I have to pick up from the grocery store anyway. Forgot some things yesterday,’ I say.

Walter nods. ‘Of course.’ While I said I should go, I can’t seem to stand up. Walter tilts his head and asks: ‘What’s wrong, princess?’

‘Nothing,’ I whisper.

‘Is it… The kiss?’ he carefully asks. ‘Because if it is, I have to apologize. I was crossing multiple lines with that.’

I shake my head. ‘No, Walter, don’t worry about it. I enjoyed it. It’s just… It was my first kiss.’

His eyes enlarge, nearly rolling out of his sockets. The surprised emotion is one I haven’t seen with him in real life. I actually thought nothing could startle him. ‘Your first kiss?’ he repeats. A few seconds pass by slowly as he runs his fingers through his disheveled curls. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

I shrug again. ‘I don’t know. It didn’t seem relevant.’

He sighs. ‘I’m so sorry, princess.’

‘There is nothing to worry about. If it makes you feel any better, I’m glad this was my first kiss.’

He leans back in his seat. ‘Penelope Townsend,’ he says, with a slight smile on his lips. ‘You’re quite something.’

Oh shit, he uses my full name. That… That can’t be good, right? Panic is taking over and I quickly say: ‘I really have to go.’ I grab my backpack and shoot out of his little office space, not even waiting for him to say something.

My brain is fried.

On autopilot, I managed to find my way to the grocery store, where I buy more instant noodles. I don’t know why, but I even grab some hair products for Walter. It’s getting ridiculous that I’m actually going to buy this, but on the other hand, he told me I could help him out with those slightly dry locks of his.

I spend little to no time in my dorm, because I am unable to stop thinking about Walter. I shouldn’t have left like that, I think to myself. He now must think I don’t like him, when in reality: I like him a lot.

As I am pacing through the room, nearly ripping out my hair out of pure frustration, I hear the rain against the window. It’s mild,  especially if you compare it to the forecasted weather. I check my weather app and realize that with this type thunderstorm, I really don’t want to be alone here.

Without even thinking about the pros and cons of this plan, I pack some stuff I need and when I walk outside, the bus to his place is thankfully already there. The clouds are turning a darker shade of grey, as I’m hopelessly walking around the block after I got off the bus. My sense of direction is severely lacking and it takes me awhile before I even see his building.

It starts to pour and I turn into a shivering mess. By the time I’m at his door and knocked on it, I realize that I should’ve called.

This, Penelope Townsend, was a very poorly thought out plan. This is terribly rude and there is no turning back now. Oh no, what if he thinks that—

‘Hey,’ Walter says when he opens the door and smiles as he notices it’s me. ‘What are you doing here, princess?’

He doesn’t seem mad, that is a good sign. ‘I am terribly sorry, Walter, I really shouldn’t be here. I don’t know why I’m here even. Okay, I do know, because I don’t want to be alone with this weather, but I should’ve at least called you. I mean, you probably aren’t even in the mood to deal with me, which is totally understandable. I’m so sorry, please forget this ever happened and I’ll just go.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ he says, holding my wrist tightly in his large hand, not allowing me to leave. ‘Come in.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I’m very sure. They say it’s gonna be shitty weather anyway and I’d hate if you had to go back. Besides, you’re soaking wet.’

‘You really sure I’m not bothering you?’ I ask, as he gently pulls me inside, still unsure whether or not I’m welcome.

‘Positive.’ He helps me out of my coat and tells me I can change in the bathroom. He grabs some of his own clothing and hands it to me. ‘Now, I’m gonna tidy up in here a bit,’ he says, ‘because I left some crime scene pictures around.’

I smile as I grab the clothing. ‘I should’ve called,’ I try to sort of apologize again, but he is having none of it.

‘Nonsense,’ he says, ‘you don’t have to call. You are always welcome here.’ He places his hand on my cheek, before pressing a soft kiss on my forehead. ‘Besides, I’m glad you’re here. I kinda missed you.’

I let out a chuckle. ‘Walter, I’m sorry I left your office. I was freaking out.’

‘I know,’ he says. Of course he knew. ‘It’s okay, Penny.’

‘It is?’

He nods. ‘Now get changed, you’re freezing.’

✎ ✎ ✎

After I changed into some of his clothing and hung my own clothes over the heater, I walk back into the living room, only to see him preparing some dinner in the kitchen.

That is such a domestic move.

‘Thank you for letting me stay here,’ I say, causing him to look over his shoulder. ‘I’m not great with this kind of weather.’

‘Figured,’ he chuckles. ‘You’re afraid?’

‘No,’ I answer, as I walk up to the counter. ‘Absolutely not.’ Almost on cue, a loud bang of thunder fills the room, causing me to yelp. ‘Okay, maybe a little.’

Walter starts to laugh. When I’m within arm reach of him, he lifts me up on the counter like I weigh nothing to him. ‘Sit still and be pretty, okay?’

I frown. ‘How am I supposed to be pretty?’

‘By being yourself,’ he says, ‘and smile at me from time to time. Seems doable, right?’

‘I can try,’ I say, a smile already appearing on my face. ‘What are you making?’

‘Some pasta,’ he answers. ‘You like that?’

‘I do,’ I say, pushing my glasses better on my nose. ‘I really do. Especially when someone else makes it. Don’t you have that, when someone else makes the food, it automatically tastes better?’

He shakes his head. ‘No, I don’t.’

Leave it to him to be an exception. ‘Why not?’

‘I like making my own food,’ he says.

‘Hm.’ I lean my head back against the cupboard. ‘I really can’t cook well,’ I admit. ‘My mom was always the one that would make my meals back home. I’m a disaster in the kitchen, hence the reason I live on ramen, which I can easily screw up as well.’

Walter smiles, placing one hand on my leg, as he holds a wooden spoon to stir the sauce. ‘Here, taste this,’ he says, grabbing a string of pasta and blows on it so it can cool off a bit. He brings it to my lips and it’s such an automatic move to place my hand on his wrist.

‘It’s good,’ I say.

‘I’ll grab a plate for you. How about you get comfortable on the couch?’

I jump off the counter and walk towards the living room area. His couch looks kinda dull, in a beige tint that reminds me of my grandma’s wardrobe, but don’t be fooled: it’s the most comfortable thing I’ve ever sat on. I grab a blanket and place it over my lap.

Walter joins me, handing me the plate with pasta and sits next to me. It only takes a second, before I flinch as the thunder is now accompanied by lighting. ‘You’re so easily scared,’ he snickers. Without me doing it on purpose, I scoot closer to him. I know he cannot  psychically protect me against it, but not being alone with weather like this, is a relief itself. ‘Careful, princess,’ he says, ‘it’s hot.’

As we eat in silence, I keep thinking about what I can say to him. ‘I brought some hair stuff with me,’ I say. ‘Bought some today.’

‘For me?’

I nod. ‘For you,’ I confirm. ‘Maybe you want to use it.’

‘Or you use it on me,’ he says. ‘I have no idea what I’m doing anyway.’

As I finish the pasta (which was delicious), he takes the plate from my hands and places it on the coffee table next to his own empty plate. ‘Come here,’ he says, pulling me closer in his warm and protective arms.

I wonder whether or not it’s odd that I’m this comfortable with him this soon. I usually have a warm up period of at least a few weeks when I meet new people. When I worked in a cafe back in Japan during my gap year, it took me a month before I wasn’t painfully shy with some of my coworkers.

But with Walter, I am still shy and sometimes a bit awkward, but it doesn’t feel unpleasant. It’s like he understands and is patient with me.

I place my legs over his and hold his hand in both of mine. My fingers trace over his knuckles, where I notice some slight scarring. ‘How did you get this one?’

‘Bar fight,’ he says, ‘before I joined the academy.’

‘You were that type of guy?’

Walter doesn’t say anything and when I look up, I see he is not even looking at me. He is staring at the window. ‘Yeah, something like that. In case you wondered: he kinda asked for it.’

There is so much I want to ask him. What he was like when he grew up. What he thought of the academy. Interesting cases he solved.

However, a loud bang brutally interrupts my thoughts. At the exact same time, the lights shut off. My breathing stops. Oh no, a power cut? I’m so glad I’m not in my dorm alone. I might’ve called Walter crying, ask him to risk his life so he could pick me up.

Good thing I’m already here.

‘Great,’ he mumbles, turning on the flashlight on his phone. ‘There isn’t much I can do,’ he says, ‘except wait for it to come back. You want me to light some candles?’

I hate the dark this much, that I quickly say” ‘Please.’

He stands up, but I hold on tightly to his hand. ‘What’s wrong, princess?’

‘Can I walk with you?’

‘Of course.’ His fingers lace through mine and together we walk around his loft, looking for the candles and a lighter. We scatter them around the apartment and it gives a soft  and warm ambiance, one that is slightly misplaced here in his loft. I can unclench my jaw from the painful grip and Walter pulls me back on the couch.

‘Did you feel awkward?’ I ask him. ‘In class today?’

He shakes his head. ‘But I know you did.’

I purse my lips together, as I feel completely caught. ‘Was I that obvious?’

‘Not to others, but to me you were.’

‘I’m sorry.’

He shakes his head. ‘Don’t apologize for that. I just wished I knew what I could do for you to feel less awkward about it.’

I shrug. ‘I don’t know. Never thought my first… Whatever we have, would have to be in secret.’

He sighs, clearly agreeing with me. ‘I wish I could show you off,’ he says. ‘Wish I could tell Fitzgerald to stop ogling you.’

‘He doesn’t do that,’ I say.

Walter scoffs. ‘He totally does. It’s not even subtle anymore.’

I place my head against his chest, melting in his arms. I close my eyes, as I enjoy being engulfed in the warmness and protectiveness of his embrace.

No one has ever held me like this before.

‘Walter, why me?’

‘What?’ he asks.

‘Why are you even paying attention to me? I’m such a nobody.’

‘You’re not a nobody,’ Walter retorts. ‘I like you, Penny. You have an ethereal beauty, combined with an adorable and kind nature. It’s so rare to meet someone like you. I see that there is so much potential in you, no matter what you choose later on in life. It’s just that you don’t know it yet, which is such a shame really. Besides, princess, I’m not risking my job for simply anyone.’

As much as him being my professor should turn me away from it all, should make me walk towards the door and not associate myself with him anymore, I don’t feel that way. Part of me wants to hide my smile, but I can’t. ‘I kinda like you too.’

‘Just kinda?’ he asks, pretending to be offended. ‘What can I do to change that?’

I smile. ‘Kiss me again.’

He doesn’t answer, simply leaning towards me to press his soft lips on mine. One of hands squeezes my thigh, as I wrap my arms around his neck. It feels so good to kiss him. ‘Can’t believe yesterday was your first kiss,’ he whispers against my lips. ‘You’re quite talented, princess.’

‘I just follow your lead. I think that says more about your kissing skills than mine.’

‘Knew you were an excellent student.’

✎ ✎ ✎

The lights aren’t restored by the time I grow more and more tired. It’s Walter actually that tells me to go to bed. When I’m tucked away underneath the blankets in just his thick sweater, he sits on the edge of the bed. ‘I want you to be honest,’ he says in a stern voice. ‘Do you want me to sleep here or on the couch?’

It’s a sweet thing of him to ask, especially since it did cross my mind a few times. I grab his hand, my thumb caressing his knuckles. ‘I don’t know,’ I whisper.

‘Why are you hesitating?’

‘Because… I don’t want you to think I’m a prude or anything.’

He smiles. ‘Princess, I can sleep on the couch. Don’t worry.’

I blink my eyes a few times, slightly nervous. ‘You don’t mind?’

‘Of course not. Just call for me when you need me, okay?’

‘Okay.’

He gives me a quick and loving kiss on my lips. Checking with me one last time, he carefully makes his way back to the living room. While I can hear him making himself comfortable on the couch, I roll around the bed. There is an inability of mine to fall asleep, something I barely encounter. There is this annoying, but also terrifying ticking like sound  against the window and I can’t wrap my mind around it what exactly makes that noise.

The thunder and lightening are dominating the skies and my state of mind.

‘Walter?’ I finally ask him, after rolling around, being all ears and incapable of falling asleep for at least an hour. It takes only a few seconds before he walks into the bedroom. His hair is disheveled and he looks like a sleepy owl in a cartoon. It’s adorable, a word I never expected to use to describe him.

‘What’s wrong, princess?’ he asks me.

‘What is that noise?’

‘Just the water and a branch. It usually taps against the window from time to time.’

‘Oh, okay,’ I whisper. ‘Sorry to wake you.’

‘Don’t be,’ he says. He leans against the doorframe. Despite it being dark, I can still see the contours of his large body. ‘You seem wide awake.’

‘I am,’ I admit. ‘It’s just that I can’t sleep. There is too much noise here I don’t know.’

‘Want me to join you?’

I nod, only to realize he might not be able to see it. ‘Please.’

He walks over to the bed and gets in underneath the covers. I can already feel his warm body heat closer to mine and I hold my breath. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Walter chuckles. ‘It’s just me.’

I can’t stop being “ridiculous”. I mean, I am completely overstepping all sorts of boundaries. I mean, I’m in my professors loft. The same professor who I kissed. Whose clothes I’m wearing.

Who I’m severely falling for.

Walter holds out his arm and I turn to my side, nuzzling against his warm frame. He only wears a simple shirt and a pair of boxers. ‘Why are you shivering?’

‘I’m a little scared.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s just all those new sounds and a different bed,’ I mumble. ‘I don’t know.’

‘You have nothing to worry about,’ he says. I place my chin on his chest. As my eyes get used the dark, I can sort of see more of his face. I don’t have my glasses on, so it stay slightly blurry. ‘Nothing is gonna happen to you now, princess,’ he continues to say. ‘Not when I’m here.’

I smile. ‘I know,’ I say. ‘It’s just all so new to me.’

‘Yet you adapt perfectly fine.’

I bite my bottom lip. ‘Really?’

‘Really.’ He places his hand on my cheek and leans a bit forward, planting a soft kiss on my lips. It’s not my plan to deepen the kiss, but when someone’s lips taste this good, of course I don’t mind deepening it. His teeth slowly sink into my bottom lip, careful not to hurt me.

When he lets go of me, his hot breath tickles my already sensitive lips. Walter presses a kiss on my nose and whispers: ‘Go to sleep, princess. You seem tired.’

‘I am,’ I chuckle. ‘Quite the detective you are.’

✎ ✎ ✎

The next morning when I wake up, I’m still engulfed in Walter’s arms. He looks so innocent and vulnerable when he sleeps. His hand has slipped underneath my shirt, his warm palm on my back. For a second, my mind wanders to a time where it’s more than this. More than just a hand on my bare back.

It’s about him seeing me naked, him touching me and whispering sweet nothings in my ears.

It doesn’t take long for Walter to wake up as well and he smiles when he sees I’m already up. ‘I don’t mind waking up like this,’ he admits. ‘Seeing your beautiful face first thing in the morning is a lovely surprise.’

Don’t blush, Penny. Don’t you dare blush.

‘Give me a kiss, princess,’ he says.

‘I haven’t brushed my teeth yet,’ I mumble.

‘Doesn’t matter to me.’ He leans in to give me a gentle peck on my lips, followed by a few more. I giggle against him, as his fingers softly—and probably unintentionally—tickle my sides. ‘I’ll go see if the power is back on,’ he says. ‘Want something to eat?’

‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘Doesn’t really matter what.’

Walter kisses me one more time, before he gets up out of bed. It doesn’t take long before I slip out of the bed as well, putting on some socks and sweatpants.

This morning is the prime example of how a domestic couple behaves. I always envied my parents, for being able to find the love of their lives, living according to a certain routine with one another. I remember sitting at the dinner table, watching them dancing in the kitchen as mom would make dinner. I remember sitting in the backseat, hearing my parents sing along with the radio.

They have always been outgoing people, in complete contrast to me. Mom always comforted me telling me that one day I would find my soulmate. Dad always told me that the so called soulmate had to be approved by him.

I wonder what would happen if they found out I met Walter. It’s way too early to think about that, but my brain isn’t stopping this thought process. Especially when Walter lifts me up the counter. When he presses mindless kisses on my forehead. When he lets me use some of the products on his hair. He smiles when I massage his scalp as I’m washing his hair over the stink and use the conditioner on his dry hair.

It’s great to see Walter with his guard a bit down. Allowing me to see who he is hiding when he’s teaching and maybe when he was at work as a detective as well. His touches are soft, are kind and not once is he overstepping. He carefully reads me and my body language.

But at one point, I realize that it’s time for me to go back. My mom used to say to leave a party when it’s still fun, instead of waiting for the awkward moment where you are practically forced to leave after you overstayed.

With his curls nice dried and less frizzy, he drives me back towards the train station and the parking lot and the station itself are almost vacant. People are probably still hiding inside their houses, not wanting to deal with the aftermath of the storm yet.

‘I hate that I have to drop you off here,’ he admits. ‘You have to walk for a while. Wait, I have an idea, you call me as you walk towards your dorm. I’ll leave here when I know you’re safe and sound in your room, okay?’

‘You really don’t have to do that,’ I chuckle. ‘I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.’

‘I know that,’ he says, ‘but I care a little too much about you. I don’t want anything to happen, okay?’

It’s nice to be taken care of like this. I could get used to this. ‘Okay,’ I say, before I give him a kiss. ‘I’ll miss you.’

‘I’ll miss you too, princess.’ He pulls out his phone and says: ‘I’ll call you in a second.’

A second truly is a second, because my phone rings when I close the door. ‘Really?’ I ask him as I pick up the phone, still being able to see him.

‘Yes, really.’

I wave at him, as I walk towards the dormitory building, which is about a ten minute walk. ‘You have a cute walk,’ he says, when I’m out of sight for him. ‘There’s almost a little skip in it.’

‘Way to make me more self conscious than I already was.’

‘Ah, princess,’ he says, ‘don’t be like that. You have nothing to be self conscious about. You’re beautiful, you’re cute and you are the sweetest thing alive.’

‘Don’t say stuff like that. I’m blushing.’

I can hear his chuckles from the other side of the line. ‘Where are you now?’

‘I can see the dorms already. You really want me to call you until I’m in my room?’

‘Yes.’

I can’t argue with that determination. While I simply chat to him about the damage done by the storm, I see Fitzgerald near the entrance. Great, I really can’t use this now.

‘There she is,’ he says, when I open the door and walk passed him to get inside.

‘Is that who I think it is?’ Walter asks me.

‘Yes.’

‘He does that often?’

Correct me if I’m wrong, but he sounds kinda possessive. ‘Sometimes.’

‘Sugar plum,’ Fitzgerald says as he follows me inside. ‘I have a question for you.’

‘I’m on the phone,’ I tell him, hoping it’s enough for him to get lost. ‘Can’t really wait.’

It seems like he didn’t pick up on the underlying no in my answer. ‘Where have you been?’ Fitzgerald asks me.

My mouth grows dry. Does he know? Have Walter and I not been subtle enough? Oh my gosh, Fitzgerald totally knows. Do not start hyperventilate, stay calm, Penny. ‘Ask him if he’s stalking you,’ I hear Walter’s soft tone in my ear.

That seems doable. ‘You stalking me?’

He must be surprised that those words roll out of my mouth. I mean, I didn’t expect them from me either. ‘No, just wondering. Saw you getting on a bus after class.’

‘He really is stalking you,’ Walter says in my ear.

‘Sounds like you’re stalking me after all.’ Oh my goodness, Penny! What on earth is happening? I don’t know if I was supposed to repeat that.

Fitzgerald is flabbergasted to say the least and he actually walks away. Did I just do that? ‘He’s gone,’ I whisper.

‘That’s my girl,’ Walter chuckles. ‘Proud of you, princess. Asshole really doesn’t take no for an answer. I am tempted to fail him for my class.’

I start to laugh, as I make my way to my dorm. ‘You don’t have to do that.’

‘I hate his guts.’

‘Don’t use the word hate,’ I scold him. ‘Instead, use the word despise.’

‘Not with him, I won’t.’

I quickly walk up the stairs and let out a deep sigh when I’m back in my own dorm. ‘I arrived safe and sound in my room,’ I tell him. ‘Thank you for letting me stay over at your place. I really don’t do well in thunderstorms.’

‘Of course,’ he says, and I can almost hear the grin in his voice. ‘Can’t have you alone during a power cut. Also, it’s quite nice not to be alone.’

A certain vulnerability I was not expecting from him, let alone over the phone. ‘It sure was,’ I agree.

‘I’ll call you later,’ he tells me.

‘Alright, of course.’

‘Take care, princess.’

[royalsunshinehotel]

I am SO PUMPED to send you the request snd I truly hope you love it too and are inspired to go balls to the wall with it, almost literally 😂🔥

Okay so this request is Sonny x Reader. In this scenario Sunaina and Sonny are either on a break or she left him for Dushal or something 🤷🏻‍♀️ I just don’t want cheating involved

Okay so…scenario is reader’s grandma is staying at the Best Exotic Marigold Hotel and reader originally came to visit grandma (she probably doesn’t have much time left) but ended up wanting to stay longer. Reader gets a job at the hotel helping out and Sonny can’t help but notice her…she confesses she’s got a crush on him one day when they’re in the laundry room which leads to some impromptu hot and heavy making out/groping on the washing machines (feel free to write this part in detail) BUT there’s some sort of emergency/urgent interruption and Sonny has to man the front desk…reader sneaks under the desk because she wants fo finish what they started. After all, she didn’t get to see his beautiful cock as they were rudely interrupted…so she decides to give him a BJ under the desk and Sonny absolutely had to keep his shit together and pretend THAT isn’t happening…..

THANK YOU!!! 💖🔥

"First Time For Everything (18+)" (Sonny Kapoor x Reader)

A/N: Thank you for your patience lovely. I've got some David Copperfield smut coming tomorrow too @catcher11

On paper, you loved your Grandma.

She’d been good to you when you were young, giving you wonderful memories. She took care of you when your father evaporated from your life, and she was also responsible for your love of art, and your willingness and bravery when it came to trying new things.

But she also happened to be a tormentor of your mother, your aunt, and an uncle you hadn’t seen since you were six. She was the reason these people had as many issues as they did, and as you got older, you became a target as well.

There were typical rants about how you’d never amount to anything, but this wasn’t new. She was definitely not in her right mind, but you were able to shrug these attacks off knowing you were the one person in the family who would still speak to her.

Yeah, you’re a “good person”. Every interaction with her brings you a headache, but you do it anyway, for the sake of the woman who once drew and illustrated an entire children's book from leftover printer paper. “YN of Hawk Hill”

You had to do it for her.

And yet, when you had lost the family-wide rock paper scissors contest, you found that you’d been recruited to escort your grandma to India. You’re a “good person”, yup. That’s why you got suckered into this.

“You were always my favorite!” she had said, like you hadn’t been bullied into this. You had never been on an airplane before.

There’s a first time for everything.

Like most things though, life dealt you something sweet, as if to pay back for your sacrifice.

Sonny Kapoor, and the Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. You were less concerned about the hotel, and more with him.

He was handsome, obviously, but it was his optimism and his kindness that really made staying with your decrepit grandmother bearable.

You had been there for about a month before you said actual words to him. You wanted to ask him about local food, cool spots to hang out, you know...local stuff. And what came out was, “can I have a job? I feel bad not contributing.”

“Ah Americans, always need to be productive. If you feel up to it, I could use help on the front desk?” He suggested, you couldn’t quite look at him then, but you shook your head for yes.

He was too bright, as if you were literally staring into the sun.

“Cool,” and with that you had a position. If not for yourself, to keep away from your Grandmother before you run out of things to talk about.

And it’s a good job too, you get to know the other staff members, you get paid a living wage, and you get to be near him.

You make eye contact eventually, and it’s good. You might even consider him a friend. It’s good banter, he helps with the ‘menial’ tasks even though he’s the boss.

And it’s a routine, you made it all on your own, but early, you and Sonny get up together, and work on the laundry.

The laundry itself is a bit of a mixed bag, but he helps you and the two of you absent-mindely chatter on about nothing. He’s lovely. Of course he is. His brain was marvelous, and he could string seven different topics together before you even finished thinking of one.

But there was always something bubbling beneath the surface. You weren’t shy the way you were when you’d first checked-in. You can look at his face now, you’d even consider him a friend. The heat you felt under your skin when your hands brushed was a little too intense to be ignored any longer.

So one day, at 4:30am, you ask.

When you’d first gotten to the hotel, he’d worn a ring. And now he didn’t. You’d heard whispers from the staff about a Sunaina, and you were just being friendly!

“You broke up six months ago?” You wheezed the words out as you folded a heated towel, and carefully placed it on the pile the two of you had made.

Sonny worked in an impractical way, handing you each linen out of the dryer one-at-a-time. Maybe he wanted to talk more? He was good at that, after all.

“Yes,” Sonny looked stunning in the blue light, not that you were paying close attention of course,” she left me for her brother’s friend.” You winced, as Sonny stuck his head into the washer, fishing out a stray scrap that had gotten stuck in the back.

“Oh wow. And you haven’t rebounded yet?” You scoffed at him in an attempt to sound confident. You weren’t inexperienced but you’d never truly liked someone this much.

“Rebound?” Sonny questioned, groaning as he got out of the washer. Sonny was raised correctly and went through the world like no one would fall to their knees to get their hands on him. Like you weren’t wanting to grab his shoulders and pull him to you.

“Yes, just getting her out of your system. It could be a date, or a kiss, or...more.” With you, he could do that with you. “But it doesn’t have to mean anything, it’s like a palette cleanser.” You just compared him to a meal because you’re going to eat him alive.

“Like gum?” You can’t help but smile at his suggestion. He spoke in such an earnest way, it drove you insane.

“Yes, you're getting your ex unstuck from your system.” You nod, noting how Sonny stared at the rag in his hand as if it was foreign.

“What would one do to get a rebound?” He asked, making your mouth go dry as his long fingers carefully traced the edges of the fabric.

“I suppose, just….make a move.” With you. If he didn’t put his mouth on you in two seconds...

And your wish came true. Softly, slowly, Sonny leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. Only for a moment, and not an ounce of force behind it. Something about him just felt correct.

But just as quickly as he’d pressed his mouth to yours, he’d backed away.

“Oh.” You said softly, giving a small smile to him.

“Did you not mean yourself?” Sonny’s face contorted to a dramatic expression of horror, “Oh no, this is an abuse of power!” He groaned, “I'm a bad boss!”

In a smooth gesture, you grabbed both of his wrists, choosing to ignore the little sparks working their way up your hands, and you brought him right back.

Sonny started by reaching his hands around your waist and lifting you to sit on the top of the dryer, door having slammed shut of course.

Your dark-haired boss sweetly sucked at your bottom lip, as he gripped your thighs and wrapped you around him.

Sunaina was an idiot, and Sonny was relentless, hands everywhere, trying to get as close as possible as quickly as he could.

Your head was buzzing, and you felt teeth tugging at the spot below your neck. You dug your nails into his shoulders, earning a loud-and slightly startling moan.

You couldn’t help but giggle, you really couldn’t. You raked a hand through his thick hair and pulled him away from your throat as he made a dramatic, disappointed expression.

“Do we have to tell HR?” He joked, half-closing his eyes as you ran your hand up his chest.

“I don’t even have a work visa.” You snipe back, as Sonny, pulls you closer, resting his forehead against yours.

He smiled into your mouth, with a kind of softness that didn’t belong to a guest or some new investor. This was a smile only meant for you.

“Mr KAPOOR!!” A shrill voice cut through the courtyard as Sonny groaned into your mouth.

“No.” You tangled a hand in his hair, sticking out your lower lip into a pout. If you could smother Mrs. McClintock you would. It would be an international incident though.

“Mr. KAPOOR!” The voice cut through again, “I’m WAITING.” It was before sunrise and she just shuffled over to the front desk, ringing the bell like she had somewhere to be.

Sonny takes a moment to kiss your lips sweetly, before he pulls away, leaving you sitting on the washing machine alone.

The cold metal of the washer seemed to dig into your skin, but it provided motivation.

You weren’t going to be pushed around. Not this time. You got bullied into coming to this country, you settled for a random job when all you wanted was a date, and now you’re being blocked from - what you felt was- a great fuck by some 90 year old with a sketchy political history.

He’d been towards his hotels since he was 18, and he’d only ever regretted having to handle guests at this exact moment.

You looked so upset when he pulled away. He should have said something.

Sonny smoothed his shirt down and gave Miriam McClintock the most dazzling smile. Why didn’t he tell you to stay put? Why didn’t he tell you all of the disgusting things he’s been wanting to do with you?

Mrs. McClintock was, for lack of a better term, a bitch. But the white noise she provided did give him an ample amount of time to figure out how he felt about you. Maybe it was as simple as you said- a rebound, a palette cleanser, and that was why his first urge was to pin you against the wall and make you his.

But it was more than that. You’d come here for someone you loved, and the way you put your heart into work that you’d barely even wanted.

It’s not a rebound. It’s more. He had to stare at Mrs. McClintock, and let her feel as if she’s being heard. Nothing she was complaining about was anything he had the ability to change, but he was her host. He could be fucking you until your eyes roll back, but he just had to handle this guest first.

“I just feel as if Nixon…” she started, as if the owner and proprietor of the “best exotic marigold hotels” would have any idea who a US president was.

God, he just wanted to be inside you. He could have been with you at that moment, maybe he’d have you on his lap, and have you ride his hand. Sonny always saw how your eyes dilated whenever he picked something up. God. Sonny was grateful for a moment that his hands were so large. All the better to feel you.

“And young man, your shirts are too…” Mrs. McClintock continued as Sonny felt something against his leg. Taking a half-step back, he lowers his eyes to see you, sitting under the desk, on your knees.

On your knees. Oh god.

The object of his affection, the star of his best dreams, underneath the desk. You were biting your lip, and your shirt was buttoned down lower than when he’d last seen you a few moments (or an eternity) ago.

Your soft eyes pull him in, and when you open your perfect mouth, Sonny sees stars dotting over his vision. It’s just too perfect.

Smoothly, as calmly as he could muster, Sunit Kapoor pulled a chair over to the desk, and sat down.

“Oh there, are we comfortable now?” sniped Mrs. McClintock, bouffant hairstyle suddenly seeming more lopsided. If Mrs. McClintock had been less concerned with the skylight in her room, she might have noticed how quickly Sonny leaned back into his chair.

You were grateful, in a way. She’d be talking for a while. You could take your time.

Sonny grins as his eyes go out of focus. You, slowly, as quietly as you could, unzipped his jeans and took his head into your mouth. You couldn’t let yourself be resentful of the old woman because she robbed you of the opportunity to tell Sonny exactly what you thought of his cock.

It was absolutely beautiful, just like the rest of him.

Your mouth was warm, and soft, just like he hoped, and if this was something you wanted to do, he was supposed to facilitate it. He was a host, after all.

Sonny wished he could look down at your pretty face, and watch as you bobbed your head, but all he could do was speculate.

This was months in the making, tucked under his desk, you decided to have fun.

With thin little kitten licks, you started at the angry head of his stiff cock, your hand in a firm grip, giving him a painfully slow tug. Sonny held in a wheeze above the desk, reaching a hand down to grip your hair.

“And the milk isn’t….” her words trailed right through Sonny’s ears as you licked up a notable vein along the side of his cock.

So what if your grandmother was sleeping across the courtyard, a few feet away? You undid a final button and pushed your shirt back as you lazily played with his cock. If Sonny could have looked down, he would have seen your shirt open, nipples hard in the cold air, and a hand resting between your legs, but he couldn’t. Mrs. McClintock needed her air vents cleaned.

“And I really do think that Laila in room 7 is…” you let out a low choking sound as Sonny was suddenly staring very hard at the white dot on Mrs. McClintock’s nose.

You dug a hand into his leg as you steadily opened your throat and took Sonny’s length. It was as if you’d stolen all the breath from his lungs. The old woman noticed the Kapoor boy looked strange, but she just didn’t care.

Sonny was pretty sure he was going to die. The desk wasn’t good to hold onto, and he didn’t want to grab your hair. If he didn’t get you closer, he’d have to pull you up and take you in front of an elderly guest, and that would be less than ideal.

As if on cue, you took a free hand he’d rested on his leg, and wrapped it around your throat. You stifled a little squeal of joy as he squeezed on you firmly.

“Yes. Mrs. McClintock, it’s so good to see you out of your room, I’ll send the MacDonalds right over.” He wouldn’t. He would have to bend you over this desk. Sonny never did anything halfway and you sure wouldn’t be a stick of gum. You would be a whole meal, and dessert.

Mrs. McClintock huffed and made herself scarce, slamming the door to her room like a child.

He gasped into his palm and you knew, deep in your gut, that he was close. You did that to him.

Sonny’s warm hand squeezed in a pace that matched the rhythm you had set sliding him in and out of your warm wet mouth.

And then the dam broke.

You felt Sonny’s legs shudder as he tightened his grip on your throat. The tears in your eyes started to fall as he came undone in your mouth. The deep satisfaction made you start to work your fingers in between your legs. If he wanted to continue after this, he would have a lot to work with.

Sonny gave you a hungry look down as he took in your sweet face, tear-stained, and smug. He muttered some words to himself that you later found translated to ‘greedy slut’, and it wasn’t as if you could argue.

You got up off your knees, feeling his hand on your head to steer you away from hitting it on the desk. Your neck felt strange without his hand around it.

“I like being in your mouth.” He said, in a stupor.

“I like having you there.” You replied as he kissed you, tasting himself in your mouth.

The rest of the morning is an exquisite haze of hands, mouths, and teeth.

In his twelve years as owner and proprietor of The Best Exotic Marigold Hotels, Sonny Kapoor had never been late for morning roll-call.

There’s a first time for everything.

[therealvalkyrie]

Painter’s Hands and Guatemalan Coffee: Part 2

insomniac

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, modern!college!AU

Summary: When you catch your idiot boyfriend cheating, your grumpy roommate is there to pick up the pieces and watch your back as you toe a carefully drawn line in the metaphorical sand.  

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: insomnia, nightmares, (remembering) death, panic attack, cuddling, fluff

AN: Here she is!! I’ve decided to give oc a little ~tragic backstory~ and I really hope it comes across like I’ve intended. I wouldn’t go so far as to call in angst, necessarily, but there’ll definitely be some in the future. Also, I know I’ve painted Annie and Reiner in a really bad light so far in this particular fic, but please know that’s not how I view them in canon at all - it’s simply because someone had to be the bad guy:( Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy and as always don’t hesitate to reach out via reblog/ask with any suggestions/feedback/questions!! ~valkyrie

(read Part 1.5 here)

Bodies jostle against you in the darkness to the beat of music you can’t hear.  The buzzing gets louder, drowning out even your own screams for them to stop.

Stop. Stop. STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP!

“STOP IT!” You can hear yourself this time, your voice embarrassingly loud in the cramped room. You slap hands over your mouth but everyone’s already turned to look at you, disgusted at the display of emotion. Even they peel their faces apart to sneer down their noses.

“Why should we?” Annie’s voice rings with superiority, swirling around the space and nestling in the crook of your neck. You shudder away, but the faceless bodies shove you back.

“Don’t you know this is your fault, anyway? You weren’t enough for me.” Reiner jeers with a satisfied smirk. The whole room laughs, cackling and giggling spitefully. You can’t move, muscles frozen, as they turn back to each other and continue making out. His hand in her hair, her thigh hooked over his hip, obscenely wet noises from their joined mouths.

You scream and scream and scream, jaw wide and aching, and all of a sudden the scene shifts and you’re at your mother’s bedside. Your breath hitches and you’re screaming in a child’s voice this time.

“Mommy, Mommy, no, please, no, MOMMY, PLEASE--”

Your hand twitches towards her and its movement against soft sheets brings you back to consciousness.

You’re spread-eagled in bed, comforter kicked almost completely off, chest heaving.

“One. Two. Three. Four…” you count in a hoarse whisper to yourself, staring out the window at gently falling snow illuminated in yellow streetlights. It takes you to one hundred and twenty-seven before you’re calm enough to do anything productive. 

You reach out a blind hand to find your phone on the nightstand and raise it up to check the time. 4:47 am. Nearly three hours of sleep.

Eh, good enough for jazz.

You heave a sigh, then push up to sit on the edge of your bed and flick on the lamp. The sudden bright light makes you squint against sharp pain behind your eyes and turn away in search of a sweatshirt. Some sifting through the ever-growing pile of laundry later, you settle on a green university hoodie and pull it on over your ratty tank top. Your toes and fingers always feel like icicles after waking up from a nightmare, so you find faux fur-lined slippers as well.

As you push past your bedroom door and into the living room, a figure in the comfy armchair catches the corner of your eye.

You nearly jump out of your skin before recognizing who it is. “Christ on a cracker, Levi! Nearly scared me half to death.”

“Sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry as he marks the page in his book and sets it on the coffee table.

“What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same.”

“Well that’s not ominous or anything,” you mutter with an eye roll as you cross to the kitchen and set the kettle to boil for coffee.

Levi sighs and pinches the bridge of his elegant nose.

“Sorry. That’s not what I meant. It’s just… I noticed you haven’t been sleeping much lately and I’m worried.” He crosses to sit at the kitchen table and speaks to your back as you shuffle around the kitchen.

“What do you mean? Of course I’ve been sleeping. Whaddaya think I was just doing?”

“It’s five am, and you were still up when I went to sleep at twelve. Optimistically, that’s four hours of sleep. And yesterday you went to bed after one, but Hange said you were texting her at five-thirty, and--”

“Jeez, what, have you been stalking me or something?” you ask with an incredulous glance over your shoulder.

“We live together. It’s kind of hard not to notice.” Levi’s tone is the usual dry you’ve come to expect, but there’s an undercurrent that you’re too exhausted to pinpoint. “And Hange also told me she’s been worried.”

“What is this, an intervention? Just because I break up with someone I’m suddenly incapable of functioning?” Your voice (and headache) rises with each phrase, cracking on the morning dryness in the air, and you spin to face him.

“I didn’t say that, I--”

“Am I just supposed to wallow in misery for the rest of my life? No. I’m not doing that, Levi, I’m moving on. I-- I’m a busy woman, I’ve got finals and, and internship applications, and I happen to enjoy waking up early. I like watching the sunrise.” Though your words are rushed and you’re gesturing animatedly, uncertainty seeps through the stuttered phrases in your argument.

Levi lets you finish, then returns in a measured voice: “Why are you so defensive about this? I know you’re busy. So am I. But I manage to get more than four hours of sleep at night. I just want to help.”

His statement hangs in the air like dust mites, swirling around you and clinging to the sticky after-effects of the nightmare in your mind. You frown and drop your eyes to the linoleum, guilt settling into the stickiness.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Your voice is much softer. “I just--” A deep sigh. “I can’t sleep.”

“Why?”

The simple question makes your breath stutter and you scrub a hand down your face in an effort to ground your skin into reality.

“It’s so stupid.” It’s practically a whisper. “I have these nightmares. About my mom. I got them when I was younger, too, but eventually they just sort of… stopped. But now they’re back. And I can’t ever get back to sleep after, so I just stopped bothering to try.”

“You know, sometimes I get nightmares, too.”

The admission catches you off guard, your eyes widening. Levi always seems so… steady and sure, you wouldn’t have expected it.

“Really?”

He nods. “About my mom and the foster homes.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you…” Your heart sinks, and you don’t know how to say you’re sorry for the heartbreak he must’ve lived through with any semblance of tact.

“Yeah. It’s not something I talk about much.”

“Right.” You pause and chew on your tongue thoughtfully for a moment. “Do you have...strategies for when you can’t sleep because of them?”

“I have sleeping pills from my psychiatrist and some meditation practices that work for me. I can send you some resources, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, I’d really appreciate that if it’s not a bother.” You feel kind of sheepish now, for raising your voice, and so try to sound extra thankful for his help.

“It’s not.” He stands up and stretches both arms over his head, tipping his face up to the sky, lean body arching and twisting with the effort of it.  “I’ll send them to you later today. I’m gonna go back to bed.”

“Okay. Thank you, Levi.”

He nods and yawns, nose scrunching adorably. “Night, kid.”

“Good night.”

As his bedroom door clicks shut, you sigh yet again and turn off the stove. The first thing to avoid is probably coffee.

--

Your fingers flick off last rivulets of water as you step out of the shower. A shiver rattles its way up your spine before you can grab a towel to dry off. Bless Levi, he had done laundry today and the towel is still dryer-warm, smelling of his favorite fabric softener.

As you go through your evening routine (tooth brushing, face washing, hair drying), you can feel a quiet tension set into your shoulders despite the humidity of the bathroom.

The day had gone okay. You managed to resist coffee until 8 am and cut yourself off at 3. A lecture and a studio in the morning left the afternoon for library studying and a trip to the grocery store. 

You had actually seen Bertholdt there, in the cereal aisle. You hadn’t been too keen on having that particular conversation, but luckily he hadn’t seemed to be either. The pair of you exchanged sympathetically awkward smiles before turning back to the Cheerios. 

The evening consisted of ordering chinese takeout while obsessing over your latest architecture design project, followed by convincing Hange over the phone not to sleep in the mouse lab for extra credit.

“But Bean will be lonely!” she insisted hysterically. “And Sonny wasn’t looking too hot in lab today, what if he needs his mommy and I’m not there?”

“You’re not their mommy,” you reminded her. “They have each other to keep them company, and if Sonny dies, won’t it support your hypothesis anyway?”

She had eventually acquiesced when you promised to help her plan a memorial should they pass in the night.

So now here you are, skin slowly drying, as you psych yourself up in the mirror to go to sleep.

“It won’t be bad. Just use the meditations Levi sent you.” You try to inject confidence into your voice, but you only end up grimacing at yourself in the mirror. “Ah, fuck it.”

You tuck your towel in firmly around your chest and double check to see your things are put away before going back to your room.

As you pass, you hesitate by Levi’s door for a moment. His normal studying music, Chopin, is on and light creeps out from underneath. Another moment of uncertainty, then you gently knock and poke your head in.

“Levi?” He raises his head from where he’s hunched over an easel, paint brush in hand. Brow furrowed and body tensed like a strung bow, he doesn’t look happy to be interrupted.

Fuck.

“I, uhm, just wanted to say good night.”

He grunts and turns back to the painting.

You take that as your cue to leave.

Back in the sanctuary of your own room, you curse again and kick your desk chair, sending it rolling a couple inches.

Why had you bothered him? To say good night?

“Stupid, stupid, UGH.” Your dramatic outburst ends in flopping face-first into bed. Just because he felt concerned enough to stage a fucking intervention doesn’t mean he’s your fucking nanny. Idiot.

Eventually, you roll over and get up to change into pajamas. 

Settling into bed, you open your newly downloaded meditation app and start an audio.

“As you prepare for your meditation practice today, find a comfortable position sitting or lying down where you can fully relax….”

The cool female voice wraps your mind in a hazy blanket of fog and eventually coaxes your body into an achingly needed sleep.

--

This time the dream wakes you up whimpering into your pillow, arms flung above your head as though you’re skydiving. With a sucking breath, you lift your head to prevent imminent suffocation and instead settle on your side, staring unblinkingly into the darkness. Breath ragged in your chest, your mind can’t seem to move past the last image of your nightmare.

It’s burned into your retinas when you close your eyes and etched onto the moonlight-pale wall when they’re open: your mom’s pallid face staring up at the ceiling, hands resting on top of  her blue embroidered duvet cover, chest still.

A sob escapes your unwilling throat and you’re scrambling to sit up and reach for the lamp. The lamplight suddenly reminds you of your own existence in the physical plane, thrusting all your senses into sharp contrast.

Her greying, thinning hair, the frailty in her fingers, the cracks in her lips, the cloying scent of death.

“Nonononononononono,” you moan, hunched over your knees, fingers tangled in your hair. Your stomach is hollow, chest tight, tears now flowing in earnest. It hasn’t been this bad in a long time, not since 7th grade at least.

Do something, do something, you stupid bitch, your mind is yelling at you, and so you force your body to move. Somewhere, anywhere other than here.

You practically fall out of bed and then lean heavily on your desk to compensate for shaking knees as you move to the door. Feet shuffle in the darkness and all of a sudden you’re sniffling outside Levi’s door, fingers in a deathgrip on your shirt. One, two breaths and you knock three hesitant raps.

Fuck. Shit. Instant regret bubbles up in your throat and you pivot away. Before you can get far, the door opens and you hear Levi’s sleep-ragged voice utter your name like a question. Damn.

You turn back sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve woken you up. Go back to bed.” Your voice is unnaturally breathy as Levi tries to make you out in the dim light of the moon filtering in through the living room window. 

He reaches for your shoulder to gently pull you out of the shadows, and realization crosses his face as he registers the tear tracks and haunting terror in your eyes.

“It happened again,” he states.

You nod hesitantly and wipe at your cheeks with the back of one hand. You try again to tell him that no, really, you’re fine and he should go back to bed, but the words get lost in the tangle of truths between your brain and mouth.

Instead, what comes out is: “Can… can I sleep with you?” Your eyes finally flick to his before you quickly follow up. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, I just- it helps to have someone close….”

Levi watches you for a moment before sliding his hand from your shoulder to your hand and tugging gently.

“Come on.”

You follow him inside and fidget awkwardly at the side of his bed as he climbs in. His room is impeccably neat, not that you would expect anything different from the man who once gave you a five minute lecture about leaving dishes in the sink to soak. It was the most words you’d heard him string together at the time, and he only stopped when he realized you were laughing.

“You sound like my Great Aunt Cheryl,” you said between hiccups of mirth. “Insufferable woman.”

He had looked at you scathingly, then made you promise never to leave the dishes for later again on pain of changing the wifi password.

Once he’s settled, Levi turns back the covers on your side and looks at you expectantly. You falter a split second before climbing in next to him, the familiar smell of his laundry detergent clouding around you as you fall back into soft pillows. He throws the comforter over you, then settles down and opens his arms.

“C’mere, kid,” he says with a tenderness that makes a sniffle catch in the back of your throat.

You roll into his arms, resting your head in the curve of his shoulder and breathe the first easy breath since you woke up. An arm flung around his middle means your whole body is against his, warming you up like a midafternoon nap in August.

Levi settles his arm around your back after tucking in the blankets and holds you like you’ve always belonged there. He gradually, gradually feels you relax into him as your breathing begins to match his own.

After a while, your eyes droop closed and Levi allows himself the indulgence of tucking his nose into your hair. A bouquet of lavender shampoo and you accompanies him softly into his dreams.

--

(read part 3 here)