#him becoming quiet after getting shut down over and over is like. so humbling and a real epidemic i fear...

[petorahs]

shuake works because it feels like akechi's the only one who listens to akira and prompts the otherwise quiet leader to talk.

in a game about defiant teens making their voice heard, goro akechi listens to akira's voice from the get-go. out of detective-sleuthing/work duties, sure, but over time it's clear that akechi genuinely finds akira interesting.

in fact, akechi's confidant route regardless of which game is being played starts with him deeming akira the antithesis to his thesis, a "worthwhile debate partner". akechi values joker's opinions.

its always nice to see people point out that in that one 3rd sem phone call with akechi, its the most involved akira's been in a conversation in-game. i myself remember inserting a lot more input during that story-sequence which usually i can put on autoplay otherwise. akechi, in a whole different reality, still seeks out joker's opinions on it. it's like he trusts no one but him.

and imo this gives a lot of character to akira. he talks the most with akechi. the quietest people have the most on their minds, and it shows with akira. but akira never gets a say in anything, and who would listen? he's less than a nobody in reality since society dictated that. so he pointedly made himself silent, hiding his thoughts beneath an impenetrable mask. during important story moments, akira favors doing more than saying. his teammates and confidants are all directly inspired by his actions over the course of the game.

but with akechi, it's different. actions seem to take a backseat as they continue with their verbal back-and-forth. in rank 7 of royal, they play pool while talking, but it's clear to the outsider that the focus is in the layered conversation they're having. they primarily talk everytime akechi's in the coffee shop, because they dont usually see eachother in their busy schedules. it's not just "hi, hello, how are you?" with them but "i find you and everything you stand for interesting. let's talk more."

there's something to be said about how two people with vastly different and opposing views seek eachother out to further discuss things instead of antagonizing eachother. its why maruki said "despite being enemies, your relationship was never based on hatred or ill will".

their relationship was never a one-sided thing. akechi helps joker as much as joker helps him... arguably more. he eggs joker on, shows him that he can do better. otherwise, the leader would remain stagnant and unchallenged. there is no progress where there is no thesis and-- you can finish the rest.

[kyasarinkishinuma]

Night.

Summary: Cloud comes home from a mission to find you pulling an all-nighter, and he agrees to stay up with you.

Pairing: Cloud Strife x Reader

Themes: Roommates AU, Fluff

AO3 link

Your apartment had long been plunged into darkness when the front door creaked open, admitting a late-night visitor. Or rather, a late-night homecomer, as this apartment was not yours alone.

Cloud placed his sword by the door, propping it up against the wall once he had shut the door behind him. He let his eyes drift to you, curled up on the couch beneath a blanket. You hadn’t greeted him as you were completely indulged in your study of the weighty book resting in your hands. It didn’t bother him.

“Hey,” he spoke offhandedly, not expecting a response as he stepped further into the humble apartment. You gave off a hum in response, brows knitted together as you committed your whole attention to the words swimming in front of your tired eyes. Cloud hesitated then at the hallway leading to your separate rooms then, glancing back at you briefly.

“Whatcha reading?” He asked casually, choosing to commit a moment longer to you, his roommate. It just so happened that Midgar was short on apartments for broke people, and it just so happened that you were one of the few people that he could put up with. You were quiet, calm and minded your own business. You asked nothing of him, only that he paid his half of the rent. He was fine with that. But over the weeks, living within the same apartment had inevitably led you to become more acquainted with one another. Talking became more natural, all while holding that nonchalance that had always been there. Conversations that didn’t mean anything. The easy kind.

Grateful for an excuse to get away from your reading if only for a moment, you let your gaze wander to Cloud, lazily stretching out over the couch. He was filthy. Cloud always came back like that. In the early hours of the morning, looking like he had just tumbled in the Midgar dirt. You never really asked him why, just like you never asked him about the massive sword he carried around. This was Midgar, after all. Nothing’s too weird to be true. The blonde had opened up to you about a couple things in time, though, as you had with him. “Oh, you know, the usual.” You gave a quiet groan, rubbing your hand over your eyes. They were burning from the strain of pulling an all-nighter. “University stuff.”

“Yeah.” Cloud nodded then, somewhat awkwardly. Like he didn’t know how to respond to that. He wasn’t big on talking. “You want a coffee?” But he was still very thoughtful, in his own way. You smiled at the proposition, nodding as you suppressed a yawn.

“Yeah. That’d be great, actually.”

“Give me a minute.” 

“Thanks, Cloud.” You called after him, but you got no response. Sighing through your nose, you curled back onto the couch, casting a wary look down at your book. You had been at it for hours, slaving away at your university assignments. It may seem silly to those like Cloud who were out there doing actual jobs. But to you, it was important. It was your chance at a better future than one in the slums.

You hadn’t realized you were falling asleep right then, nodding off as you fell deeper and deeper into your thoughts until Cloud came back with two mugs in his hands. “You okay?” He asked you, mako eyes burning into your face as you were startled awake with a quiet snort. You flushed in embarrassment but the mercenary didn’t even seem to notice it, handing you your cup of coffee.

“Thanks.” You brought the drink to your lips, feeling Cloud’s weight plop down on the couch next to you. He casually slung his arm over the side of the couch opposite of yours, making himself comfortable in his filthy state. You didn’t complain. “Did you get in a fight with Barret again?” 

Cloud’s gaze followed yours, focusing on a bruise on his arm, one too large to have been caused by a mere trip-up. He didn’t show a reaction, leaning back against the couch as he shrugged.

“Maybe.”

You laughed quietly then, shaking your headd. Sounds about right. It did kind of surprise you, though, that a guy as quiet as Cloud always seemed to be getting into fights. A silence fell over you both as you held your mugs in your hands, simply enjoying the cover of peace that only existed at night in this city. You could still hear the distant ruckus of breaking glass and drunken shouting from further down the street, sure, but it was nothing to how rowdy it would get during the daytime.

“You should really go sleep if you’re tired.”

Cloud’s voice broke into your thoughts as you looked over to him, finding him looking back. His expression was its usual. Neutral, unreadable. Except in time you had learned to pick up one small but crucial detail. His brows were furrowed in the slightest, eyes set on you intently. Like he meant it. He had shifted out of his lazy slouch, sitting up in the slightest. Attentive.

You showed him a tired smile then. Cloud was right. Some shut-eye wouldn’t hurt you. But you absolutely had to get this reading done by tomorrow. “I know. But these books won’t read themselves.”

“Can I help?” 

You had to admit you were surprised by the prompt reply, feeling his eyes burn into yours. It didn’t seem like he was letting up. Truth be told, this kind of attention was not something you saw everyday from your roommate. It was a side of him you got to see slowly, bit by bit as talking became easier. In a way, perhaps he was seeing that side of you too, ever since you had first offered to stitch up his wounds for him.

You shook your head. After that it was like Cloud hadn’t said anything at all, his posture relaxing as he laid back against the couch and turned to focus on the empty TV screen. But you did reconsider his offer after a moment. “Well… There might be something.” You heard him hum absently. “Maybe you can stay up with me until I’m done?”

Cloud didn’t respond right away. You figured he was giving it some thought as he leaned back further against the couch and crossed his arms. His answer came shortly after. “Sure. I wasn’t planning on going to sleep yet, anyway.”

“Great.” You showed him a grateful smile, making yourself comfortable on the couch. “Thanks.” 

And so you read, and so did Cloud, picking up some book he found laying around. ‘LOVELESS’. Ha. You hadn’t taken him for the type. Or perhaps he wasn’t. Peeking at him from over the top of your book, watching his focused eyes and tireless demeanor, you had to wonder if he really had meant to stay up or if he was doing it because you had asked him to. Regardless, his company was… nice. It made it easier to study this late into the night, knowing someone else was there with you.

About an hour in, just as you were nearing the end of your chapter Cloud slid off the couch, stretched his hands over his head and straightened out. “Going to shower. I’ll be back in a bit.” He told you from over his shoulder, blue eyes briefly meeting yours as you nodded. He left, the sound of the shower soon letting itself be known as you dove back into your reading.

By the time Cloud came back you were fast asleep, book held limply in your hands as your body was slumped against the back of the couch. He frowned a bit, examining the scene as he wondered what to do. In the end he chose not to wake you. Instead he moved the book out of your hands, marking the page before he placed a blanket over you. The nights were cold in the slums. He let himself observe you for a moment, shaking his head. He wished you had taken his words more seriously. At this rate you were working more than he was. However, it seemed sleep had gotten the better of you. In any case, it seemed that reading that was so important to you would have to wait until tomorrow.

“Night.”

And with that he shut the lights, dousing the apartment in the early morning darkness.

[saltynsassy31]

I promised @mossy-fruit a fanfiction like.....two months ago aND IM STILL WORKING ON IT I PROMISE

It's just....I made it longer than I had hoped for 👉👈

In the mean time, I humbly offer this one-shot I thought of the day I had conceived Orca. Ft. Patch

Theme - comedy

Orca put away his suit back in its rightful place in the lockers, the chatter of his coworkers filling the room as they ate their lunch.

"You heading out so soon, Orca?" One of his teammates asked, raising a brow in confusion.

"Yeah."

"Well, that's unusual of you, did you finally find something better to do with your life?" The inkling joked, laughing slightly at himself as Orca simply rolled his eyes.

"I don't always work, ya know."

"Really? Could've fooled me!"

Orca slams his locker shut. "It doesn't matter what you think I do, I'm going out, I have a meeting with someone and I'm not the type to be late. Just don't screw yourself over and hop down a title again, I am not going to demote myself a 5th time this week."

"No promises, captain." His friend said, doing a mock salute at him and putting out his tongue playfully.

Orca gave him a small, playful glare before walking out. "See you guys."

"See ya!"

"Take care!"

"Don't let the small fries bite!"

And with that, he was out. He checked his phone for the coordinates to the location of their meet up, he struggled slightly to pin down exactly where it was but he eventually found it. It was small and a bit of a remote area but that wasn't all too important to him.

Orca pushed through and continued his way over to the front door, knocking on it and waiting for an answer.

"Coming!" A voice in the other side called out. It wasn't long until the door opened to reveal an inkling with short, messy and burnt cyan tentacles, just like one of his coworkers had described him. The door wasn't fully open yet, only half of his face was poking out, a suspicious glare on his face. "May I help you?"

Orca gulped slightly, sure, he'd be able to fight himself out of any danger, but that wasn't really his biggest worry, no, he was actually awful at socialising and he always got nervous around new people, which, as his friends had told him, made him have this awful glare that could scare anyone away and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

So he tried to put his best smile, which didn't seem to have worked as the inkling gave a slightly startled expression, he had been practicing his smile! It can't be that bad. "Hi, I came here because some of my colleagues at grizzco recommended you to me for new weapons?"

That seemed to have gotten his attention. The inkling opened his door a bit further, poking his head out and looking around. "Yeah, you're in the right place, been waiting for ya. Anyone else with you?"

Orca shook his head. "No, just me."

The other nodded and opened the door fully, stepping to the side to let him in. Orca looked around the small workshop curiously. "You can sit over that couch over there while I go get the weapons, I'll he quick."

The octoling nodded, having a tight grasp around the straps of his book bag over his shoulders as he walked to sit down.

The inkling, Patch, if Orca recalls his name correctly, walked off into another room, leaving the other to his thoughts. He was quick to become fidgety, looking around the quiet, empty room, he found himself becoming drowsy, which only made him panic further.

He could feel his heart beat and that wasn't good.

You see, he didn't really have a normal heartbeat, being a playtoy for the people underground, being sanitised had eventually become his fate. Even after removing most of the sanitisation, it had already taken affect on his body in many different ways besides just his appearance. His heart beaing one of them.

He barely had a pulse, he, for the longest time, though he didn't even have one until he had his first panic attack and felt something beat in his chest, which wasn't helpful because the sensation had been foreing to him, but that's besides the point, the pulse wasn't even that strong either, it was just an average pulse but to him his heart was going fast.

He isn't sure how he is even alive, his friends had reported that when he sleeps, he doesn't even have a pulse, he doesn't even breath, they thought he was dead the first, which is concerning. But he tries not to think too much about it, less he were go to the hospital for it.

He shivers at the thought.

It didn't help that he was already a pretty pale octoling and colder than the average octoling or inkling, what made it really worse was that he was a really heavy sleeper and would only wake up to very specific noises that woild kick in his fight or flight senses. In any case, he usually just tries to avoid sleeping around new people, sleepovers being a complete no go.

But he was just so tired. He hadn't had the chance to properly rest for the past couple of days now, or, more accurately, he hadn't let himself have the chance to properly rest, so really, his own fault here.

His eyes could barely stay open and he found himself catching his head from falling over every so often. Well, maybe he could just close his eyes for a little while, right? He won't sleep, just close his eyes as they felt like they were burning and it was becoming increasingly hard to keep them open, his already blurry vision going even more blurry despite him wearing his glasses.

So that's what he did, he leaned his back on the couch and closed his eyes, but he had underestimated how tired he was because as soon as he did he was out like a light.

.☆.

"Hey, sorry for the wait, I was struggling to find the grizzco weapons since surprisingly not many people request for it." Patch chuckled as he walked back to the main room only to see his customer dead asleep on his couch.

"Huh, guess that job really does a number on someone, huh?" He chuckled to himself, putting the box of weapons over the table in the middle and walking up close to the other. His suspicions of the ocotking's job being exhausting was confirmed by the slight bags under his eyes, making his mask look bigger than it's supposed to.

He felt a little bit bad waking him up but they came here to do buisness, he could sleep afterwards once he was home. "Hey, wakey wakey, I got your weapons." Patch said, shaking his shoulders slightly, ignoring the other's freezing touch.

He didn't budge.

"Hey, dude, wake up. I know you're probably really tired but my workshop is not your bedroom." He shook him again but nothing.

"Hellooooo, anyone in there?" Patch knocked om his head, grabbed both of his shoulders and shook him, but no response.

Now the cold of the other’s skin felt like a burning stove as he felt himself start to panic, letting out a nervous laughter. "H-hey, c'mon now, this isn't funny."

Still nothing.

His mind blocked the fact that the other wasn't even breathing, he probably was just very weakly, some people do that, right? And quickly reached for his wrist, searching for a pulse, nothing, not there, not I'm his neck, placing a ear to his chest just to be sure but nothing.

He quickly stepped back, his hearts lodged in his throat, making it hard for him to breath, his ears ringing with the silence, making it almost unbearable. He found himself yelling just to fill that void. "AAAAAAHH OH MY COD, OH MY COD HE'S DEAD, HOLY FUCK."

He quickly placed a hand over his mouth and stomach, he felt sick like he could puke.

No way, no way that this guy just died, on his couch. "What do I do? What do I do!?" He found himself repeating that like a mantra, walking around in circles.

"Should I call the police? No, no, they'd investigate my workshop too, should I just bury his body? Does he have friends or family? Are they worried he's gone? Oh god, they probably don't even know."

He turned back to the body, still unmoving, he had to cover the evidence.

He ran back to the storage room and grabbed a shovel that he never found use for until now and ran back to the living room

[taughtdefense]

you remain laser-focused as you land a variety of different punches & kicks at the training dummy, each hit perfectly in-sync with the loud music that’s playing in your ears thanks to your airpods. you’re alone in the dojo right now, so your defenses are down. not completely, but enough to throw caution to the wind. your duffle bag is on the edge of the mat, which holds a towel, your water bottle, your car keys, phone & a copy of the dojo keys kreese gave you on the second day of his takeover, & of course your earplugs. you’d swapped those for your airpods, put on a playlist, & got to training. you'd picked up on kreese's training style like it was nothing, & he's told you that he's impressed with your fearlessness & ferocity, & your ability to think five steps ahead of your current opponent. kyler's become a frequent punching bag opponent during sparring, & you take him down with a few precisely-placed moves, in less than five minutes, every single time. he's not the best student in the dojo, & you usurping that title from him ( not that he ever had that title to begin with ) has seriously fucked with his head. in your opinion, he needed to be humbled, to be knocked down a peg.

he's been getting more & more frustrated by your clear superiority in strength & knowledge in karate, & his emotions makes him stupid. you don't have that issue; by that, you mean you don't have to deal with your emotions getting the better of you during fights. you'd flipped your humanity switch off a long time ago, the second you created this universe. only miguel, tory, cosima, ciro & scarlett have an idea of what you're actually like... but with the rest of the valley, you're closed off. robby is included in that second list, because you're determined not to repeat history with him. it's why you've kept him at arms length & have barely looked his way since he joined cobra kai. you're not pissed at him like tory & scarlett are, you're just... frustratingly uninterested, like you want nothing to do with him.

it’s been two hours since today’s evening lesson wrapped up for the day, & everyone — including sensei kreese — have packed up & left the dojo. it's dark outside. the dojo is nice & quiet, which is honestly how you prefer it. there's not any distractions nearby that could pull you out of training, & you'd even silenced your notifications. you don’t tend to train this extensively, or this intensely. but, you knew you’d be bored at home, stuck inside with the rainstorm that's blowing through the valley, & had some extra energy to work off. so, here you are. you're barely even sweating, & you're not even feeling the slightest bit of exhaustion. ( your nonhuman stamina comes in handy. )

when the dojo's doors open & quickly shut, you don't cast a glance backwards, although you can tell it's only @taughtpain. you could lie to yourself & say you're happy to see him, but you're not. you land another three kicks to the dummy's head in rapid succession, using a little more strength on the third & final kick. the force causes the dummy to rattle violently in place for a handful of seconds, which you ignore. you simply switch your stance, aiming a quick punch at its chest. finally, you turn around, holding his gaze for a split second before pulling an airpod out of your ear, walking over to your phone to pause your music. there's a handful texts from tory & scarlett, which you'd ignored in favor of training. you begin replying, barely even glancing up at robby, like he's not right in front of you. after you hit send on the reply in the group chat, you toss your phone back onto your duffle bag, rolling your shoulders.

❝ if you're looking for sensei kreese, you're shit out of luck. they left a while ago. unless you're here to train, you can leave. ❞ dismission, boredom, & disinterest line your words, & your face conveys this perfectly. ❝ or, you can stay here & wait out the rainstorm with me, since you're already here. i don't fucking care. ❞

[adonis-koo]

Star Struck

| 2 |

↳ Summary: You’re a creature of habit, you plan everything from each hour to each day, so you can imagine the chaos which ensues after you discover a random guy leaking black goo in a ditch- who just so happens to be an alien.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/Reader

↳ Genre: lowkey strangers to lovers, alien!jungkook, fluff, smut, 

Word Count: 13k

Tags: tentacle sex im sorry, foreplay, oral (f) but not?? jungkook is technically a virgin by human standards ayyy, penetration, nipple play, over stimulation, double penetration, squirting, sub!jungkook, breath play, spit kink, jungkook can make his own lube??, anal im so sorry, praise kink, they become soul mates on accident oops,

Previous | Next

You didn’t see nor understand what JK was talking about at first, he just fumbled along between alleyways and roads and nobody, or what little people were on the streets didn’t look at you twice given your friend was as tall and broad as he was. Perks of being with a man you guessed. You still didn’t know what he was actually talking about except for the assumption that he had found his...friends…?

Eventually JK had dragged you through a lot of fields which had made you increasingly anxious, what if a kidnapper was out here? True you wouldn’t mind him using his talon like tentacles then but still...You also didn’t want to go to jail for assisting a homicide...Standing in an empty field, at the dead of night, was not what you intended on doing on a friday night.

JK seemed excited though as he bounced, grabbing a hold of you, he pressed his thumb to your forehead, your eyes fluttering shut on instinct from being so close to him suddenly but your brows pinched and an uncomfortable ache throbbed in your head before he released you. Rubbing your head you whined before you looked up again, only jumping with a screech at the...ship...in front of you...which was NOT there a moment ago. 

“Home!” JK announced proudly as he grabbed your hand, tugging you along against your will, was this really...his ship? Oh god what if he was abducting you...You didn’t have time to think as he ushered you inside. It looked small on the outside admittedly but on the inside it was all glossy and clean, a sleek futuristic look dawning the interior.

Futuristic, he was an alien, you weren’t shocked at the assessment but still. This must’ve been the hanger or...living area… or...hell if you knew ship terms, it looked like the dining room but you didn’t expect two others to appear. All of them speaking in that same throaty tongue as he ran to them, embracing them with pure excitement on his face before he pointed to you, a look of pride on his face as he cleared his voice, “Y/n.” He spoke clearly as if introducing you.

 You gave an awkward stiff wave before immediately dropping your arm, you were going to be extremely pissed if this was the LSD trip you thought you were having yesterday. You watched them all speak to one another before the one on the right nodded, saying something before gesturing JK off, who hurriedly ran off leaving you alone....with two aliens…

They both looked at you expectantly as you looked around, “Hi…” You offered an awkward smile, “You guys are terrifying…” Watching the one on the right grab a watering can to pour over a small...purple colored...tree? “You less so…” You turned to the other one, his eyes dark and piercing and wow…if you thought JK was hot you hadn’t even thought about what it would look like to seem someone attractive from his species, “You the most…” You wrapped your arms around yourself uncomfortably. 

“He’s just assessing you, Taehyung’s like that with anyone associated with our Jungkookie.” You nearly wheezed at the sound of the one on the right speaking full...English…he offered a dimpled smile as if anticipating that reaction, “Apologies. I’m Namjoon, I’m sure you’re extremely confused and scared with everything going on.” 

“...You could say that…” Your twisted somewhat painfully as you nodded rapidly, it was midnight and you were in a fucking spaceship, “Ummm, where did JK go…?” 

Namjoon as he called himself suddenly snorted, shaking his head as he sighed, “Told him he should’ve paid more attention in the academy,” He rolled his eyes, “Jungkook,” He emphasised the name, “That’s his full Earth name. He just forgot it because he never pays attention,” He offered a weak smile, “And he’s in the memoir chamber rememorizing English so he can actually speak to you. It’s handy for us Orionian’s in case a situation like this happens and we don’t know archaic languages like English.”

You didn’t understand a word of what he just said, “I’m sorry...I think I’m too dumb to talk to you, honestly…” You felt extremely stupid but much to your surprise Namjoon laughed in delight, as if endured by your words. 

“You humans are pretty humble huh,” He hummed as he continued watering the rest of his  plants, “Anyways, our ship crashed here on Earth on our way to the andromeda galaxy and Jungkook ended up falling out, it was an...extremely rocky crash…” His smile still weak as if a vague memory entered his mind, “You have our utmost thanks for taking him in when he was injured and housing him.” 

“It’s no problem, I would’ve done it for anyone.” You shifted a little, smiling a tiny bit despite still not feeling as comfortable as you wish you could be, it was just difficult to take in everything that was rapidly changing but your words still stood, you would have. Especially for...Jungkook...you lingered on the same, it sounded more fitting for the tall puppy like boy. 

“So what are your intentions with Jungkook?” You jumped at how deep the second voice was...Taehyung if you remembered correctly and he only looked about as hot as he was intimidating, “Why did you take him in if you knew his identity.” 

You flailed a little, intending to speak yet no words came out...you...you hadn’t really thought about it...at all honestly…”I...I ummm...well…” 

“Are you working for them?” Taehyung stepped towards you, his expression becoming cold as you feebly took a step back looking towards the ground and unsure of how to answer or if you’d even given him a satisfying answer. 

“Stop.” The new voice was raspy and low, not too terribly deep, but just enough to sound charming and rather rugged, Jungkook had appeared again only this time, immediately standing defensively in front of you, “She found me and even after finding out about me being an Orionian she didn’t report me to any Earth officials. I trust her, and you should too.” 

He...he could speak...perfect English now...What!? 

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed onto you, still distrustful but he laid off, “Right...and what is this about you bonding with her? I don’t think she’d be a good vessel.” 

Jungkook’s jaw twitched and you could see the glow of the crescents on his hand burning in red, “Well I’m not asking for your permission to bond with her.” He spat back, his brows furrowed and his lip twitching in anger, suddenly he didn’t look so cute and puppy like anymore, “And it’s not like we’re getting off Earth anytime soon with the ship in this state, so it’s best if we just resume the plan as originally intended.” 

“You think I’d choose a vessel as inferior as humans to have my offspring?” Taehyung’s face curled as if that was the biggest insult he had ever heard and yet you nearly choked at his words, vessel? Offspring? Uh what? 

“Stop fighting,” Namjoon sighed and much to your surprise both of the two boys quieted down, Jungkook still stood in front of you, shuffling a little closer as Namjoon sighed, “Jungkook is right…” He made a noise of victory as Taehyung’s mouth twitched in anger, the marks along his body burning a deep red that was just a little scary to watch from afar, “With the technology at hand here on Earth and with Arbitrators searching for us, it’s in our best interest to make the most of what we have here. Besides, Earth is unsuspecting and was one of our forerunner’s best creations. It’s not too far off irony to let them be the vessel of our offspring.” 

You stared up at Jungkook’s broad back in disbelief...this man was trying to impregnate you after a half a day of knowing you!? You weren’t sure plan B was prepared for this shit. Jungkook looked deeply satisfied at Taehyung’s reaction though before he turned to you, his expression soft and puppy-like as he smiled somewhat timidly before speaking as if he was a little giddy, “Hi…” 

You could’ve said anything in this moment, in which Jungkook looked like he had been excitedly waiting for, and yet your choice of words had been admittedly poor.

“You’re gonna have to bag another bitch, I don’t do kids! I...I did NOT sign up for this!” You immediately backed away from him like he was poison and you didn’t know how these fuckers procreated and at this point you weren’t sure you wanted to learn!

Jungkook’s lips parted and he looked a little hurt before he quickly approached you again, “I don’t expect you to want to carry my children yet….” 

“Yet!?” You shouted out making all three of them flinch a little, “I...I just let you stay at my place because you looked like you were dying in a ditch, and now! I’m in a spaceship, I can’t find the exit and you can suddenly speak English and you’re talking about kids!? This...nu-uh this is going way too fast. I...I really need to get home.” 

Jungkook’s lips trembled a little as he reached out for you, “I’ll take you back! Or-! Or you could stay here until the morning, you shouldn’t be out alone, Earth has proved to be unsafe at night.” He tenderly held your forearms as your expression awkwardly twisted. 

“Nothing worse could happen to me than what happened earlier tonight,” You shook your head rapidly as you sighed, “Just show me the exit, I’ll be fine, really. I’m happy for you! Seriously! I mean it looks like you’re reunited with your kin so there’s no reason for us to stay in contact and it’s been fun and out of this world- literally.” You laughed a little as you rambled, all three staring at you wide eyed, “But like, seriously I’ll keep this to myself and just hope it’s a really shitty drug trip like I originally thought it was…”

Jungkook sighed, lowering his head in defeat and his lips trembled a little in that sulky way it had been this morning as he went to the hatch where you both had come in, dialing a few buttons he waited a moment as he mumbled, “I just want to explain everything to you, I owe you that, at least…” 

You said nothing waiting for the door to open as he dialed a few other buttons, and a few more, and again...and again…”Um,” He cleared his throat a little, “Namjoon…? The door?” He asked, his eyes doe like as he stared at his companion who sighed, squeezing between you both as he also dialed a few numbers into the glowing pad. 

They both waited before Namjoon’s lips twisted into a sigh as if somehow expecting this to happen before he spoke, “Doors’ jammed...again…”

“This is fucking perfect.” Taehyung swore with a sigh, gritting his teeth as his eyes glared into you briefly, causing you to sheepishly back a little towards Jungkook, “I’m going back to my pod, I can’t deal with this.” He brooded before leaving as you looked between both aliens. 

“...Jammed? The door? As in…?” 

Jungkook’s lips twisted into a nervous smile, his marks glowing a light purple as he coughed, “Looks like we’ll have plenty of time to talk now…” Fuck! Why did things have to be this complicated, it could have been worse, but it was the same annoyance you had when Youtube played an unskippable ad, or when the lead in your pencil broke, a cookie falling onto the floor, that type of inconvenience.

Unshockingly Jungkook didn’t hold the same feeling as he spoke gently, “I can show you to my pod, it’ll be awhile before the door gets fixed…” He gave you an endearing apologetic smile. 

“...As long as you aren’t gonna try to knock me up then sure.” You stared at him in disdain, making him weakly smile as he stepped back up the metal stairs and if you didn’t know any better you would’ve assumed he was actually happy you were stuck with no other choice but to stay. 

“Once you see her to your pod, a word please Jungkook...” Namjoon’s gaze was fixed on the door quizzically as if already trying to deduce what had made it jammed, he made no effort to look back at you both but you could tell it was probably important. 

Jungkook only nodded eagerly and kept your hand in his as he lead you down the small the hallway, lights flickering and while you were anything but an engineer or mechanic, it wasn’t hard to tell they had crash landed, Jungkook ignored the mess against the walls as he typed in something before a door slid open revealing what you assumed was his room, the door slid shut behind you making you jump a little as you investigated the space. It was a minimalistic room, a few trinkets laid around and a messy bed was against the wall.

“You can sleep if you want...I know you were tired when I woke you up…” Jungkook’s marks glowed a soft pink as he bashfully looked at the ground, scratching his cheek as if he didn’t know what to say, “I um...I should go speak to my brother.” 

Before you could even say anything Jungkook had already left looking somewhat sheepish, leaving you to curiously look around the room, it was spacious and in tones of deep brown and black, a few gadgets laying around on his nightstand as you tilted your head. 

His pod...so basically...a bedroom. You assumed as much as you couldn’t really make a distinct difference between the two. True you could’ve slept like he had suggested, you were exhausted but too wired to even think about sleeping at the moment due to how bizarre of circumstances you were in. You were in an alien’s bedroom, on a space ship...

You had took your time browsing around the room, curiously holding a few trinkets in an attempt to figure out what they were, time passed slowly and for a while, you began to wonder if this was just a set up for them to butt probe you like Jimin had original thought they would. Not that you would mind as much as him but- besides the point, the longer you were left with your thoughts, the more that piled up.

When the door abruptly opened you nearly jumped out of your skin, hurriedly setting down what looked like a portable flame thrower before whirling around, Jungkook looked a little timid as he smiled, “I’m sorry that took so long...Um...” He closed the door gently before he gestured, “Please, go ahead and rest, from my understanding...um...humans have a standard sleep cycle yes?” 

You didn’t fully understand what he was asking besides if you slept at night, rubbing your neck you did as he gestured, taking a seat on the bed before you jumped a little as it did not feel like a normal bed, “Uh I guess...? Why...why didn’t you just leave? You...didn’t have to wake me.” You mumbled, scooping your feet up as you laid down, shifting a little as you tried to get comfortable.

The bed felt almost like a marshmallow, something in between water and memory foam as the bed moved in slow, lapping waves as you attempted to get comfortable again with a pout tugging on your lips. 

Jungkook watched you with endearment before he laid on the bed next to you, “You have to stop moving, coranium matches the pattern of your body to keep everything aligned and slowly adjusts to the movement of your body throughout your sleep duration.” 

You rolled onto your side to look at him as you curled up a little, his marks still a light pink and his smile a little shy as he spoke, “To answer your question I mean...I feel like it should be obvious, I want to make my bond with you so it was natural I wanted to take you with me. I don’t know Earth well enough to confidently navigate it on my own without getting lost. I couldn’t risk leaving you and then being unable to find my way back. As well as I knew I’d be able to learn English fast in the memoir chamber, so then we’d be able to talk…” he smiled a bit timidly, his eyes fondly washing over your face as you awkwardly scooted a little away from him. 

His eyes downcasting a little at the gesture as he frowned, and once again, even despite speaking english now it didn’t help his case in looking like a kicked puppy, “Well...am I supposed to know what a memoir chamber is? And….bonding and...literally everything you guys have said thus far?” 

Jungkook rested his chin on his hands as he hummed, thinking about your words carefully before he spoke, “The memoir chamber is in most Orionian ships, it helps us adapt to the planet around us and depending on what region we’re in, the language. Our kind carry human DNA- or...moreso the other way around, so inherently we know all Earth languages as they descended from Orionian dialect, but…” He scratched his cheek, marks glowing pink once more, “I had a difficult time studying earth languages in the academy. It’s unrealistic for us to know them all, so the Memoir serves as a rebrief to put in the language back into our minds.” 

God what were you in now? A shitty sy-fy film? You rolled onto your back as you said no more, thinking about his answer for a good long minute before you parted your lips only to shut them...Hold on one damn minute- did he just insinuate his kind created humans? Knowing all languages? What!? “I don’t even know how to unpack that sentence…” You muttered, staring up at the ceiling which twinkled in a galaxy of constellations and if you didn’t know any better you would’ve assumed it was an open glass ceiling to outer space.

It aligned with nebula’s and stars, planets for what looked like miles and miles. You could stare at it for hours in awe, how did you not notice that until now.

“I could only imagine being human, it’s a lot to take in,” Jungkook offered a gentle smile, “As for bonding…” He was pink all over as he scratched his cheek again, eyes fluttering away from yours almost shyly, “It’s what it sounds like, when we Orionian’s find a person who we like and want to share our life with, we begin a bond, and it takes awhile for the bond to grow but once it’s finished, we’d complete it with a mating cycle, and then...We’re celestially bond together.” He mumbled a little shyly, his eyes looked like stars twinkling as he talked about it, almost in a dreamy fashion. 

“....” You couldn’t even find the words to say anything before you muttered, “You’ve known me for a day…” True Jungkook was cute, but all of this stuff about bonding and space really made it difficult to grasp the concept in a way which wasn’t him basically proposing to you.

Jungkook looked as if he had been abruptly pulled from his little fantasy world as he frowned, propping himself on his forearm as he spoke, “Time is only a concept for Orionian’s, when we know who our bond is meant for, we just know. It doesn’t matter if I’ve known you a day or your whole life, my feelings won’t change. I want us to bond.” His voice lowered a little, his eyes doe-like and filled with a sugary sweetness as he closed the gap between you both. 

You were speechless. Many times in your life you had felt this way, but genuinely, you had no words. An alien just professed his love to you within twenty four hours of knowing him all because...what…? You fed him twice? Let him sleep in your bed once? What had you possibly done for him to think you could be his...his wife!? 

“I’m not getting married, I- I mean I’m flattered! I am.” You sat up, once again, pulling away from him as he mirrored you, his lips jutting into an almost frustrated pout, “But like...I just turned twenty one this year....I’m hardly a person let alone wife material.”

“Bonding is hardly even close to the equivalent of human marriage,” Jungkook wrinkled his nose, almost a little endeared, he knew little of human marriage from the media he had watched when you weren’t present, and while humans had similar ideas of romance, it was hardly comparable, he spoke gently, “It’s far more special and permanent. Being bonded is…” He closed his eyes, a half dimpled smile on his lips as he hummed, “It’s like feeling like the universe has completely aligned on your behalf, and that the planets and stardust gifted you a celestial mate who would never turn their back on you, who would always dry your tears and heal you when you’re hurt. The bond extends past this lifetime and into the next and so forth.” 

“...You lost me at ‘more’ permanent…” For a woman with a whole baggage load of commitment issues Jungkook was really not selling this idea to you well, “Sorry but I think you got the wrong girl.” You could appreciate the bizarreness of this situation and admittedly you felt like you’d always have a superior ‘main character’ moment story to one up somebody with but this whole business about being stuck with someone for multiple lifetimes and having alien babies was really not something you could follow up with.

Jungkook looked severely hurt which made you do a double take, not quite anticipating such a pitiful reaction as his lips quivering and his eyes even looking somewhat glassy as he spoke, “O-oh...I see…” 

wow way to make you feel like an asshole. He had shuffled a little curling up against himself as if trying to make himself appear small as he looked away from you. Sighing you ran a hand through your hair, well fuck, what did you have to lose at this point in your life?

“...Jesus christ, okay...what...what does...you know…” you coughed a little, rubbing your neck as Jungkook’s doe eyes looked at you timidly before darting away when you met his gaze, “What does this bonding shit entail anyway?” 

Jungkook was incredibly attractive, there was no denying it and the worst that could happen would be things didn’t work and you just went back to normal non-tentacle men. Jungkook perked a little at your question, still seeming a bit reserved as he mumbled, “Well...bonding is a long process...it’s not something out of human fiction that just immediately happens. When a bond is first created it’s incredibly delicate, you have to be careful and make sure both partners dedicate time to strengthening the bond.”

Laying your head against your arms that were folded in front of you while listening intently you hummed, “And let’s say hypothetically, could the bond be broken?” 

Jungkook’s expression crumpled a little as he mumbled, “It can be severed, but the more strengthened the bond is, the more painful it’ll be for both partners. But yes, it is possible. I should also mention a bond is only possible unless both partners are in agreement and want it just as much as the other.” 

You hummed, thinking about his words, so technically it wasn’t really possible given both of you had different alignments right now, “Alright well, here on Earth we call it dating, which is a lot less intensive than that, so if you want me to do that then you’re gonna have to go by human standards first.” It was reasonable enough and a happy compromise.

You wouldn’t deny you felt a pull towards Jungkook, ever since he had arrived yesterday morning your life had been anything but normal and yet you embraced every twist and turn so far and...there was admittedly a secret giddy part of you that revelled in old childhood nostalgia that someone had actually fallen from the sky and would now show you a world of many possibilities outside of earth. 

The only thing holding you back was the logic and reason that your family held and pushed onto you at a young age, long gone were the days of staring up at the stars in hopes of seeing something supernatural and daydreaming during recess about being whisked off earth. You didn’t know how to connect with that childlike side of yourself anymore, it had been so long since you bothered with those thoughts that now that the opportunity was presented to you, you genuinely didn’t know how to react.

Jungkook had immediately perked up his brows raised and immediate interest in his expression, “I’ll do it! If it means winning your affection,” his smile was a little toothy and innocent as he spoke, “How do humans date? What do they do?” He tilted his head in curiosity while waiting excitedly for your reply.

You couldn’t help but smile a little at how enthusiastic he was, “Well…” you drew a breath in thought, “It’s not too different then it is from now, we’ll go out to eat together, get to know each other, stuff like that.” 

Jungkook deflated a little, confusion in his eyes as he frowned, “But that’s stuff we do now...as...friends…” his frown furthered on his lips, “What sets friends and dating apart if we do the same thing…?” 

You rubbed your neck, beginning to get a little flustered at his question as you shifted a little, mumbling, “Well the difference is friends are strictly platonic, dating someone means you’re interested in them romantically and...you know...we hold hands...or cuddle or...I don’t know romantic shit…Stuff friends don’t do.” 

When did Jungkook get closer to you? His head tilted in curiosity as he spoke, “...And? Is that it? I’m sorry,” he apologized a bit bashfully, looking rather pink, “I’m trying to discern possible differences in boundaries set between a regular human relationship compared to Orionian’s…I don’t want to do anything that might make you...uncomfortable…” 

You stared at him for a good moment, as if trying to discern whatever he was trying to say without actually saying it, “Well...I’m not sure how different it can be…” Jungkook said nothing, fidgeting a little as you looked at him for a long moment, “...I’d tell you if you made me uncomfortable.” Was this...going where you thought it was going? 

Jungkook shuffled a little closer, his nose nearly brushing yours and his lips that looked so soft jutted into a slight pout, his eyes could hardly meet yours as he timidly asked, “...How...intimate are humans in their relationships?” 

Your face felt like it was on fire though as you muttered with raised brows, “Uh pretty hands on...if you wanna fuck me you can just ask.” You looked up at him, feeling a bit bold given he was a little more on the shy side, you could tell just him asking that had obviously taken a lot of courage on his part.

Jungkook’s marks had suddenly filtered from baby pink to a deep maroon, his face looked nothing except shy and a bit hazy as he mumbled, “Would you let me…? I don’t...exactly share the same anatomy as your male counterpart...Orionian’s...intimacy looks a bit different.” 

You felt intrigued and horny at the same time, it was tentacles wasn’t it? Please god let it be the tentacles, “You can’t threaten me with a good time,” you laughed a little, trying to take a little bit of the nervous edge off Jungkook as you offered a small smile, “Just show me, I’m...what other humans would consider pretty kinky. Doubt it’ll scare me off.” You couldn’t admit that his tentacles were immediately making your panties soaked because god did you want to be filled up like a scared hentai girl right now.

You squeaked at Jungkook suddenly climbing on top of you, his eyes hazy and he pulled the sweatshirt over his head, revealing the strip of glowing maroon that led up the center of his arms and wrapped over his shoulders, his tentacles suddenly emerging from his back much to your horny excitement, “Our tendons are both are strongest and weakest point of our body.” Jungkook mumbled against your neck, the feeling of something extremely foreign wrapping around your thigh, almost something between like a soft silicon and jello substance. 

Not sticky like you had anticipated, but soft enough that it could be almost considered wet, “They protect us but they’re also what we use to procreate with, if they’re cut off or majorly damaged, we become sterilized. My eggs…” He suddenly became a bit timid as he mumbled, “They aren’t fertile yet...But regardless I wouldn’t fill you unless we were bonded, so you won’t have to worry about impregnation. Intimacy is still an act of strengthening a bond though, so it’s utilized a lot at the beginning of an Orionian relationship.”

You weren’t fully paying attention at this point, too busy nearly drooling at the feeling of his tendon slithering along your clothes, “I can understand if you’d prefer to not do this though.” Jungkook seemed somewhat embarrassed and timid, his tendons slithering around your pajama band but doing nothing further.

“No!” He nearly jumped  at how you almost yelled it, your eyes frantic and you were nearly dripping at how horny you were, your voice needy as you whined, “I’m literally a slut Jungkook, I’m more than happy to experiment.” 

Jungkook didn’t need anymore confirmation then just that, his tentacle that had been playing with the band of your pajamas immediately pushing underneath it as you whined, your legs immediately parting for it as it ran up your panties, the soft wetness that ebbed from it soaking whatever was dry of your panties, was this arousal of his own? He moaned softly as he pressed his face into your neck, “I know you feel this is fast, but Orionian’s tend to not like to waste time.” His tentacles slid along your panties before pushing inside the band.

Your lips parted at the soft wet sensation of it gently prodding along your clit in exploration making a yelp escape you.

Jungkook jolted a little in concern as he looked down at you, somewhat shyly and his cheeks were a deep maroon much like his marks, “Keep…! Fuck!” You whined at the way his tentacles as if testingly flicked along your clit, another tentacle which had been floating behind him absently had suddenly emerged forward, making quick work of your pajamas and panties as the other continued working along your clit making you whimper as your back arched a little. 

The second tendon slowly brushed along your soaked cunt, embarrassingly wet sounds could be heard throughout the room as Jungkook moaned in contentment, “This feels so nice,” he mumbled with a whine, the second tentacle which had been stroking you slowly wiggled against your entrance making you squeak. Your horniness couldn’t be put into words at how bad you wanted this man to shove all tentacles inside you.

Your lips immediately parting at the tip of the tentacle pushing inside you, it was too soft to be considered that of a toy or dildo but too firm to be anything foreign, you couldn’t resist propping yourself up onto your elbows, your legs spread as you looked down, your face twisting and cheeks throbbing at the lewd sight of two tentacles hard at work on your cunt, one continuously flicking your clit and rubbing along it while the other began to testingly thrust inside you. 

Your lips dropped open as you moaned feeling Jungkook push it further and further inside you before giving it a testing wiggle, a scream nearly ripped from your throat at how it hit all the right spots.

Unable to even support yourself as you dropped back down with a whine as Jungkook quickly began to pick up the pace even more, “Fuck,” he moaned softly, the tentacle pulsed and throbbed as it squished and wiggled while being thrusted back and forth in short motions, your cunt was so tight and your walls kept trapping him further and further inside you as you whined, “Mm, females of my kind don’t have anything like this,” he moaned two more tentacles had suddenly appeared from his back, one pinning your wrists above your head and the other wandering to your flimsy shirt before pushing underneath it, and much to his delight Jungkook found nothing underneath except your soft breasts, “Nothing this- mmm, fuck,” it came out more of a whine this time as you felt his tentacles wiggling in delight at the way your cunt clenched around him, “small, and warm...Fuck,” Jungkook dipped his head, running a hand through his hair, the third tendon wrapped around your nipple making you whimper, jolting as your cunt squeezed around the tentacle that was beginning to roughly split apart your walls as it discovered your g-spot, your mouth parting as whined spilled from your lips at the insane feeling of the tip of his tentacles flicking up against it rapidly.

“Ah! Fuck fuck fuck, Jungkook!” You whined as your back arched, your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head at how many sensations were going on, between him finding the sweet spot of your clit, the tip of his tentacle flicking up into your g-spot the other one squeezing with just the right amount of pressure on your nipple. 

Jungkook’s lips parted and his eyes were hazy but in awe at the way your body contorted, your small little walls nearly entrapping his tentacle as you came harshly, whined and whimpers escaping you as he forcefully kept flicking up into your g-spot, his other rubbing gently against your clit as your body frantically moved, yet your hips kept thrusting up to try and take more of his tendon as you whined, “Fuck…! Jungkook! Ah..!” Jungkook moaned softly as he gave you just what you wanted, pushing himself further inside you until he was dangerously close to your cervix.

His tentacle was soft enough that no pain was even involved as he kept wiggling it into you, soundless moans escaped you as your cunt began wrapping convulsing around him, your clit burning in pleasure due to sensitivity as he kept letting the soft tendon rub against the tender bud.

“Fuck!” You whined, liquid suddenly spewing from your cunt much to Jungkook’s surprise, his tentacle had immediately restricted at the feeling leaving your cunt feeling empty and tears nearly escaping yours eyes in frustration due to it despite his second tendon continually abusing your clits sweet spot, within the second the first tentacle entered your once more pushing with no hesitation right back to its original position as Jungkook began wiggling once again with short thrusts. 

Your walls kept squeezing around him causing him to moan as he whined, “You- you need to stop doing that...feels too good.” He mumbled shyly against your skin as you nearly convulsed in pleasure at the way his third tendon was wrapped around your nipple, giving the bit of pressure that had your cunt squeezing around his tentacle, too busy in your own pleasure to care about what he wanted, your hand wrapped around his throat making his eyes widen and his lips part submissively, “I’m gonna keep doing what I want baby- fuck...I think you like it when my little cunt squeezes around it.” You purposely clenched around his tentacle and you could physically feel it throb inside you.

Jungkook’s lips trembled a little a moan escaped him at your hand squeezing lightly around his throat his tentacle immediately fucking you even faster in comply as your lips parted in glee, your hips rolling a little to slide along the slick thick tendon, “Thats right baby boy, I bet you’ve never felt a cunt like this before huh?” You let out a shaky cackle as your hand sadistically squeezed harder around his neck. 

His gaze dropped and he only whined, quickly crumbling to your dominant hands that only excited you further, it was one thing to cross off your bucket list getting fucked by an alien, it was two being able to dom one, “Oh am I suddenly in control now?” You mockingly pouted before a twisted smirk curled on your face at how Jungkook wouldn’t meet your eyes any longer.

Power was practically leaking in your veins, you were getting fucked by a tentacle alien and he was a shy little sub? Your squeezed harsher around his neck, a whiney moan suddenly escaping him as his tentacle harshly pulsed inside you before it frozen, his face buried into your neck, impatient and now knowing you could boss him around freely your hips lifted, squelching and slipping around the tendon with ease as his lips trembled against your neck, “Mmm! P-please! You have to slow down…” he whimpered a little at how cruel you were being with him. 

You could care less in this moment though, too busy living out your dream fantasy bucking your hips against the soft subtle material, your cunt squeezing around him as you moaned softly.

Your moan twisted to a growl at the feeling of his tentacle pausing in your clit, your hand finding his hair as you harshly balled it into your hand, “I didn’t give you permission to stop.” Jungkook’s gaze lowered and his eyes a little watery despite the angry pout on his face.

“You aren’t listening to me.” He mumbled stubbornly and your lips twitched, outwardly showing displeasure but inwardly seeking the chase he was trying to give. Jungkook fumbled with you had pushed away, briefly his tendons pulled away in semi surprise, at first assuming you had taken his shy words the wrong way but he was quickly mistaken when he was shoved onto the bed, a whine escaping him as the tentacles quickly adjusted to be semi flattened. His lips were quivering at the sight of your naked body straddling him and your hand on his jaw, “Truthfully, I don’t think you want me to listen baby.” You pouted mockingly, the feeling of his stretched tentacles seekingly wrapping around your thighs, “Open.” 

Jungkook’s lips parted a little, his eyes watering and looking a little confused at your words, but you had took advantage of the opportunity, spitting into his mouth as he suddenly whined, his ears bright red following along with the magenta color coursing through his body as your hand wrapped around his throat in a firm grip, “Good boy.” You smiled loosely, wiping a stray bit of saliva from his lip as he whined, a tentacle beginning to stroke against your soaked cunt once more but this time he did nothing except in hopes of an invitation.

“Such a good boy, go on, I know you want to.” You cooed out, your head hanging a little and your lips parting at the feeling of the tentacle plunging back inside your warm walls with a loud squelch, “Stay still.” You commanded sharply and with a noisy whine from Jungkook as he obediently listened, you could feel the foreign tendon inside you pulsing still as if it nearly killed him to do so. Your hips steadily began to move along the tentacle, your cunt clenching around it as you took more of him it only got fatter and thicker the more you took. 

“Ahh, fuck. That’s it baby, c’mon keep filling me up. I know you want to. I can see it in your face.” You taunted, feeling his tentacle doing a test wiggle inside you as you slid along it, arousal coating him as he whined, you had a great view of his other tentacles sliding from under his back and extending upward, the second quickly made way for your clit much to your excitement, your lips parted and a whine escaping you as it kept rubbing into your sweet spot it had previously discovered. 

You were too busy trembling and moaning, attempting to fight off another orgasm at the feeling of your clit almost feeling like it was being ate out at how soft the tip of his tentacle was gently lapping against it and a soft wet arousal of his own leaking from the tip, you had bounced against his tendon in short motions, craving all of him inside you as your body began to convulse, your hands balling against his chest with a whine at how difficult it was to stop yourself from cumming immediately.

Jungkook wasn’t letting go without a fight though, a third tentacle had surprised you, pushing between the cheeks of your ass making you nearly gasp a whine, “Fuck! Fuck, please.” You mumbled in a moment of weakness, giving your consent that you’d like to trust he’d be able to make this feel good. Jungkook didn’t hesitate for a second, the tentacle oozed a slippery liquid, his own arousal along your puckered rim. You were almost too fucked out to even pay attention, your body busy still riding him and trying to focus on anything but the feeling of the slippery tentacle flicking at your clit and finding nearly every pleasurable nerve physically possible. 

It was difficult to miss the third one pushing slowly into your ass as your lips jumbled something nearly incomprehensible, your body collapsing semi against him, only being held up by your weak forearms, “Mmph! Fuck baby keep going, just like that. Such a good boy for me.” 

Jungkook squeaked out what sounded like a pleasant noise at the praise, perhaps sensing your body beginning to crumble as his tentacles took back over, quickly thrusting inside you once more and wiggling to his heart's pleasure as drool nearly dropped from your lips. Unable to even do anything or say anything with two tentacles plunged inside you. 

The tip of the tentacle was just narrow enough to slip inside your ass with a gentle sting but pleasurable enough to make your toes curl and whines escape you at the feeling of the force of his thrusts on either side of your body. His second was still lapping up around your clit, finding that perfect spot that nearly made your vision go white and you weren’t sure what escaped your throat other than possibly the best orgasm you would ever experience in your life. 

And it didn’t stop after a second, it just kept going with his tentacles drilling inside you and lapping around your delicate hyper sensitive clit as you whined and cried against him. Jungkook moaned softly as you felt what potentially might have been a second tentacle greedily pushing inside your cunt, whimpers escaping you at how harshly he was thrusting up inside you and how stretched your body was. 

Your mouth parting at the feeling of the forth tentacle pushing its way to meet the first as you squeaked and whined against him, a tentacle wrapping around your waist to hold up your lower body that nearly collapsed as your vision blurred with tears at how hard you were being fucked. Jungkook’s eyes were shut tightly and his hands had finally grabbed your waist as extra support as his third tentacle wiggled its way further into your ass. The pleasurable sting becoming more and more noticeable as you cried out at the feeling of one tentacle flicking up against your g-spot and the other harshly thrusting into you while your clit was hypersensitive at the feeling of being rubbed and flicked. 

Your last orgasm couldn’t even compete with this one as you cried out, body convulsing and cunt tightening as you nearly scrambled almost looking possessed to the unknown eye, your body had clenched up so hard at being so filled you hadn’t even heard the sharp whine from Jungkook. Hot liquid suddenly spurted everywhere the majority of it inside you but some getting on you, over the bed, everywhere. 

Jungkook whimpered and whined, digging his face into your neck and his tentacles were pulsing sharply as if literally pumping out every drop of liquid they could inside you. You were so fucked out you could hardly even ask what in the actual hell he just injected inside you. You had already been tired before but your body was burning and aching, feeling as if you had literally been ripped to pieces. 

At least you finally got a piece of that tentacle action.

You were not someone that fucked and then immediately slept afterwards, typically after a one night stand, depending on your relation with the person you would either ghost them by pretending to go to the bathroom, talk and hang out afterwards, or go get something to eat together, or by yourself, you weren’t picky.

Rubbing your blurry eyes you yawned, your body aching with even the slightest movement, Jungkook was the first man who had ever fucked you so hard, you had little to no choice but to fall asleep afterwards, you probably couldn’t even stand if you wanted too. He was curled up against your chest at the moment, his head pressed into your breasts looking way too content at the moment. 

Your eyes trailed down at his fluffy raven hair before down the warm tawny skin of his back, something in your chest stirring, it felt like it was almost physically tugging you closer to his body, your hand finding its way to his hair making him stir a little. Jungkook’s arms wiggled against your waist to make himself comfortable once more before relaxed with a content sigh. 

The marks on his back glowed a sentient purple, you had never gotten a good look at his back before. 

And while this wasn’t that great of a position to view, you were still curious with what you could see, they formed two long strips down his back widening a fair bit and they stopped just at the smallest part of his waist. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve remarked that it looked like he had wings ripped from his back.

As morbid as it sounded, and that is of course if they glowed like this. Jungkook really was the prettiest thing you had ever seen, your hand hadn’t even meant to pull from his hair down his neck, you couldn’t help the tug in your chest wanting to touch.

However the moment your fingers grazed over the mark that covered his left shoulder blade Jungkook nearly flew out of your arms making you jolt in just as much surprise as him, his lips parted and he had sat up, gaze sharp as he looked around as if for any possible intruders. Slowly as he woke up though he came to the realization it was just you and him, your smile becoming somewhat sheepish as you mumbled, “Um, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You cleared your throat feeling bad now, was it just that sensitive? You might not know much about Orionian’s but you could take a guess and assume that was the opening to where his tentacles laid dormant, and given they were also how they procreated...It was natural Jungkook was probably a little defensive about them being touched. 

Jungkook said nothing though, only staring at you for a long moment before he whined a little, suddenly crawling back up to you before collapsing on top of you as you huffed, “You can’t startle me like that, my scaling is sensitive.” He mumbled a little shy, grabbing your hand as he placed it back on top of his head obviously wanting affection. 

Your fingers dug back into his scalp making a pleasant noise escape him as his body relaxed once more, “...Scaling?” Your brows furrowed at his words, complying with his silent demand to have his hair played with as he curled up against you, his lips tugged into a smile as he rested his face between your breast. 

“Yeah, my scales.” Jungkook nodded as he held up his arm, pointing at the glowing marks making you frown, that...looked nothing like scales....Jungkook smiled a little as he rested back down while explaining, “There filled with hyper plasma so depending on the hormonal chemistry of my body will change colors.” You got that part, even before he could speak English, but still...when you thought of scales, you thought of stuff like fish and...scaly things. Not aliens. 

Jungkook only smiled happily as he looked up at you, it looked like thousands of stars twinkling in his eyes and the dim lights reflected off his iridescent skin, little tones of purple and blue could be spotted as he lifted his hand up to cup your cheek, his fingers carefully trailing down your jawline. There was a wave in your chest, something strong like...the only thing you could describe was pure happiness, “Hey what did you blow inside?” You hadn’t even meant to ask that question but it had abruptly crossed your mind. 

Jungkook’s gaze faltered a little, his scales suddenly turning bright pink and his bashfully lowered his gaze, pressing his cheek on your chest as he mumbled, “It was just plasma, it’s what helps carry eggs when they’re released but...I already told you...my eggs aren’t ready yet. You have no possible chance of getting pregnant without my prior knowledge.” 

His fingers tethered against your stomach as if saddened at the idea that his future kin weren’t in your stomach, a wave of sadness fleeting inside your chest briefly as you frowned, why did you feel so odd? You weren’t even the least bit sad about not being pregnant. 

“Okay...good I was just..wondering since…” You coughed a little, not finishing your sentence which you were originally going to say because he used you like an actual cum dump- not that you minded. But still. It was good to know. Jungkook said no more, only burying into your chest with a pouty whine. 

Yawning you stretched out looking around before grabbing your phone which had somehow made it alive on your night stand, your notifications flooded with Jimin’s drunk texting on where you went last night and why you weren’t home...Wait, your eyes darted to the time, it was noon?! You had a lecture in half an hour! 

“Fuck! I have to get to class!” You immediately jolted up making Jungkook whine as he was jostled onto the bed as you limped along in search of your clothes, your body aching and resisting with each fumble before you nearly collapsed out of fatigue while grabbing your panties. 

“Can’t you just stay? Just for a little longer?” Jungkook mumbled, his lips in a large puppy like pout as he held out his hand to you, something stirring in your chest that wanted to just curl back up against him, his eyes doe like and soft, almost pleading for you to cuddle back up against him. 

“I have midterms coming up Jungkook, I really can’t afford to skip class.” You offered an apologetic smile, “Besides it’s not like we can’t go get something to eat later or anything.” Pulling your pants up you wobbled to the door, frowning as you pulled your sweatshirt back over your head, where was the door handle…?

“..B-but!” Jungkook fumbled as he pulled his shirt over his head before hurrying over to you, “Just five more minutes? Or two? Please…!” There was something urgent in his voice as his lips trembled as if he would be devastated if you left. 

Examining the door your lips parted as you pushed the button on the wall, jolting a little as the door slid open, “Jungkook,” You paused briefly, feeling a dull ache in your chest, a brief desire to do as pleaded as you looked up at him, “I really have to go to class okay? I’ll drop by later when I’m finished for the day I’m sure you...have stuff you need to talk about with your...um...kin…” You raised your brow a little awkwardly before you back walking down the hallway, something inside the back of your head almost tempted to stay with him. 

He looked so panicked and whiny, it made you feel bad for having to go, and furthermore you secretly wished you could stay longer but you couldn’t afford to miss class with midterms so close. 

If your memory was correct this should lead to…! Aha, you felt victorious at the sight of the main, living area?  The circular table was towards the smaller three step ledge that went up into the control room and the purple bonsai-like plant which had just been freshly pruned sat delicately on the other side of the room. 

“No! I....Can I come with you then? And then we can come back here together later?” Jungkook pleaded, his lips trembling and his eyes almost watery as you paused with a sigh, he was really tugging on your heart strings huh...It was almost easier to deny him back when he was unable to actually speak his wants to you. 

“Jungkook I- I mean I guess you could…? But like, it’s just lecture, it’s boring, I have to be focused the whole time and no offense but...I feel like if you came I wouldn’t focus.” You pulled a little away from him with an awkward smile while silently hoping the door had been fixed. 

“Morning you two,” You turned around at the sight of Namjoon appearing from the large opening of the control room Taehyung who still looked sour following after him only to lean against the wall with crossed arms, Namjoon stepped down the three steps as he offered a polite smile, “I hope you slept well, I’m sure it’s a lot different compared to human dorms.” 

You looked away from Namjoon unable to speak at the question of having slept well, you hardly slept half the night after getting your back blown out, but he was right, it was nothing like human- in any aspect whatsoever, whether it was the bed or who you got fucked by last night. 

“It was fine...um the door....Is it fixed?” You pointed your thumb behind your shoulder as you offered a weak smile. 

Namjoon nodded stepping closer before he abruptly paused, his brows furrowing before he looked between you and Jungkook without so much as a word, it made you somewhat self conscious as you shuffled in your spot at nobody volunteering to get the door open, “Yeah, it’s fixed, umm…” His smile was a little tense before he looked between you and Jungkook, “Are you both going out? Already?” 

Jungkook refused to look his elder in the eyes, his lips plush and pouty, hair dusting over his eyes as he shuffled in his spot refusing to answer whatever unasked question his elder had, “Uh yeah, I’m going to class, Jungkook can stay here though, I’ll be back later.” You shrugged, not understanding what their problem was. 

Taehyung had not interjected into the conversation yet, his dark hair brushing over his eyes only in the opposite effect of Jungkook, making him look as if he had a death warrant with your name on it, “And leave Jungkook alone?” He gritted his teeth looking like he was ready to snarl at you, your lips quirked a little and your brow lifted in confusion, wasn’t that typically what people meant when they said they had to leave…? 

“Uh yeah, and I’ll come back…?” You trailed off, making it sound more like a question then a statement before Taehyung suddenly pushed off the wall, his walk was by no means in any hurry, but his shoulders were squared and his steps were paced with determination that had you taking a step back at the sight of him not stopping until he was right in front of you. 

The energy of the room had gone tense before Taehyung snarled, “You bonded with my little brother and now you’re going to leave him!?” 

You shrieked at suddenly being shoved against the wall, your ribs throbbing in pain as Taehyung’s hand wrapped around your throat, crushing your windpipe as you gagged, “Humans really are pathetic selfish people.” Tentacles suddenly wrapped around Taehyung’s hand before he was ripped away from you, hot red scales were a blur as Jungkook stood in front of you protectively. 

Your hands rubbing your sore throat as you leaned against the wall gasping for air, “Stay out of this!” Jungkook growled, his lips twitching and his eyes burning into his brothers, “This doesn’t involve you, let me sort it out and if you ever fucking touch my mate like that again I won’t hesitate to rip your eggs straight out of your utaria.” 

You jolted at the sight of Taehyung lashing out at Jungkook, both of them slamming into the wall near the hallway as they grappled and yet you could only stare in shock at what had just happened and what you had just heard. Namjoon was immediately between them both separating the two as he growled, “Taehyung that wasn’t necessary! I doubt she even realizes what happened!” Namjoon immediately twisted towards Jungkook with a scowl, “And you! What did I tell you last night?” 

Jungkook’s jaw was clenched, his scales a hot burning red that matched Taehyung’s and yet his eyes couldn’t meet Namjoon’s, his lips twitching a little as he glared into the wall, his expression slowly melting as Namjoon snapped, “What did I tell you!? Why can’t you two ever listen for once? If you had we probably wouldn’t even be stuck on Earth right now! This is your mess Jungkook, I told you it wasn’t a good idea to bond this early on in our stay on Earth.” 

Jungkook’s expression had turned neutral but something in his eyes still seemed bitter as he stared at the ground now, perhaps too scared to look up at you, who had backed away from all the men in shock. You...but...Jungkook said…The silence set in and slowly each brother turned their gaze towards you before Jungkook was the last, his face filled with remorse at your expression as your lips parted, “You…! You told me-” Your lips parted variously before you finally forced out a sentence, “You lied to me!” 

“I didn’t!” Jungkook immediately hurried over to you, his expression filled with guilt and desperation, “I- Y/n I wasn’t even aware we had bonded until Taehyung pointed it out! I’m sorry I had no idea I…!” All you heard was excuse after excuse though, something indescribable filled your chest and your vision blurred in anger. 

“I’m going! I can’t…! I can’t even look at you right now Jungkook!” Upset felt like it had magnified tenfold in your chest as you rushed down the metal stairs, punching against the button before the door opened, your throat felt squeezed and like you were suffocating as you ran as far and fast as your legs could take you. What was happening to you? 

“I’m fine…” 

Jimin and Seokjin exchanged glances, light poured in from the opened door behind them of your bedroom, the blanket wrapped around your body has you held it up above your nose, “Uh don’t lie bitch,” Jimin quirked a brow, his lips twitching in anger at just the sight of you trying to tell such an obvious lie, “It’s been three days since...whatever happened with JK- “Jungkook,” “I don’t give a fuck what his name is, you’ve been a recluse ever since, what happened?” 

Just the mention of Jungkook’s name made your chest physically ache as you curled further into yourself, you weren’t in physical pain, you couldn’t even fully describe it. 

All of your feelings just felt so amplified, like they swirled at just the surface of your chest and ready to burst out at any given moment. It felt like a physical string around your heart that squeezed and tugged harder and harder that left you in a depressed state with no energy left to do anything except what you had been doing.

Weakly sleeping half the time or scrolling on your phone in a useless attempt to think about anything other than Jungkook. You couldn’t even understand how you felt so attached to him and how much your body ached to just be wrapped up in his arms, but you were still so upset at what had happened. 

Questions swirled in your mind and to which you didn’t have the answer too and it made you even more upset that you wouldn’t get answers unless you went back, “Y/n, we’re just worried.” Seokjin raised his brows, his expression apprehensive but softened at the weak state you were in, “You haven’t been out of your room ever since the morning after the party. Midterms are just around the corner, I doubt you slack off for a shit reason.” 

You only curled up further before you sighed, closing your eyes as you finally caved in and mumbled an explanation as to what had happened and what you were now suffering under. Seokjin seemed more calm but Jimin’s lips were twitching in anger as he scowled, “You’re joking! Well let’s just go and demand he cut whatever alien ties he has on you.” 

You knew he was just trying to help but you only shook your head, “...Taehyung said I was the one that had apparently formed the bond, I didn’t even know that was possible.” You mumbled, you buried into your pillow, a feeling of guilt building into your chest as you tried to forget the ghost image of Jungkook’s hurt eyes in your mind. 

“Well it’s obviously affecting you mentally and physically, I mean seriously, you haven’t showered in days, you aren’t eating, Y/n…” Seokjin kneeled down, a frown on his face, “You need to swallow your pride, as stubborn as you are, and go talk to Jungkook about this. We’ll come with you, you probably won’t even have the energy to get there, but he’s the only one who can help.”

You managed to roll over to your side, your back facing them both now as you pulled the blanket over your head, you didn’t want to face Jungkook again, you weren’t sure you were ready to. You had so many mixed feelings and you weren’t even sure what to begin on asking questions. 

Neither said anymore before you heard Seokjin reluctantly sigh, “I’ll leave it for tonight, but tomorrow morning you’re giving us directions and we’re going to get this sorted.” They both left shortly after and closed the door sinking the room back into a depth of darkness. A heavy weight back on your chest and sudden ache filling you as you curled up, a dull sense of urgency inside you but you couldn’t distinguish what for. It felt like you needed to cry even despite not feeling sad, but maybe as a way to just release this energy.

But you didn’t do anything besides lay on your back, staring up at the ceiling as you sighed, trying to ignore the dull ache of your head, what a shit show. If you had known what your life would come to by just trying to be a good person, you would’ve left him in that ditch. ----

It felt like your body was being dragged through the mud, through the fire and hell maybe even gitting shit on at this point, “This is so stupid.” You mumbled, curled up in your hoodie as you hugged your knees into your chest in the back of Seokjin’s car. 

“You’re the one that fucked an alien,” Jimin snorted, twisting in his seat as he cocked a brow, “Which, what possessed you to do that seriously? Your stupid little hentai fantasies?” He stared at you with a bizarre expression as you snorted weakly. 

“Yeah pretty much.” 

“Fucking knew it,” Jimin collapsed back in his seat, “We could get our assholes probed by aliens now because she couldn’t keep her panties on at the sight of a slimy tentacle.” He raised his hands dramatically and you could’ve sworn you heard Seokjin try to keep from laughing at you both. 

“They’ll probe you with their tentacles too, apparently they make their own lube home made so they’ll slide it right in no problem.” If you had the energy you would’ve died laughing at the way Jimin whipped around in his seat in horror. 

“No fucking way. You WILLINGLY let him do that to you?” 

You couldn’t stop the weak laugh escaping you as you leaned your head against the window, “I’m a slut.” You shrugged before you lifted your head a little, “Right there! It should be in the field. I think it has some sort of cloaking shield or something.” Seokjin pulled off on the old winding back road which looked familiar enough.

He hadn’t been going fast to begin with and you had already stopped twice and the two other fields had been empty so this one had to be it, and if it wasn’t then it was safe to say you broken Jungkook’s heart right in two and he and his other space fuckboy brothers left Earth for good. Which you hoped not because you felt like you were in a weird limbo between life and death at the moment. 

Stepping out of the car you paused as you heaved a breath, leaning against the car as you sighed, the energy feeling like it had been sucked straight out of your soul every passing minute. Jimin looked at you mildly concerned as you waved him off, slowly pushing yourself straight up as you wrapped your arms around yourself. 

The comforts of your hoodie keep you warm as you ignore the dull ache in your chest, Seokjin and Jimin both kept close as you all looked like idiots wandering around in an empty field. The empty field however, upon stepping forward had suddenly blurred before the familiar sight of the ship came into view. Seokjin and Jimin were dumbfounded at the sight as they both stared. 

You only trudged forward towards the door before you slammed your hand against the metal door, “Well? What are you both doing just standing there?” You asked with a furrowed brow.

“Well sorry I didn’t fuck an alien the first chance I got.” Jimin fumbled out with a huff as he hurried over along with Seokjin. 

The door had immediately been opened to a relieved looking Namjoon, his eyes briefly landing on Jimin and Seokjin warily as he spoke, “I’m glad you came back! Come on, hurry in.” He ushered you in, “...I’m assuming these are your...friends…?” 

“Best friends, roommates, the same guys that also allowed your little space fuckboy to stay with us.” Jimin growled out as he crossed his arms, standing as a big brother you never asked for as Seokjin snorted. 

“Chill,” He shoved Jimin a little who only grumbled under his breath before he spoke, “I’m Seokjin and that’s Jimin, we’re Y/n’s roommates we’re already uh...aware of what you guys are we just...we don’t know what’s going on, we just want Y/n to be okay.” 

Namjoon nodded slowly, still a little wary but it was to be expected, he said no more as he widened the latch for the three of you, “Y/n left right at the beginning stage of their bond when it’s imperative that the newly bonded couple stay together and establish a stable connection. If not, it becomes unstable and drains the life force out of both individuals causing a wide variety of ailments and illnesses to take over. It’s good you guys came back when you did, Jungkook is doing even worse sense he was the Si in the bond.” 

“What is she doing back here?” Your lips twitched a little at the snarl from Taehyung who had shot up from his seat at the table, his eyes glaring holes into you and honestly, if he could vaperize you into dust at the moment you were sure he probably would. 

“Here to break the little probe ass connection your fuckboy put on her,” Jimin snapped back unappreciative at someone talking this way to you especially in the condition you were in right now.

Taehyung’s lip twitched as he shot out of his seat, “My little brother may be naive but he had good intentions and she took advantage of his fragile state! He wasn’t in any sort of headspace to do anything!” You only curled away from Taehyung with mixed feelings, you wouldn’t necessarily describe Jungkook’s state of mind at the time, fragile as it was just horny. 

Namjoon sighed as he looked at Seokjin before at you and then the two feuding men who were practically glaring into one another, “Taehyung, don’t do anything irrational, I’m going to get Jungkook.” Namjoon disappeared and it was quiet inside the ship as a tension took over the room. 

You tried your best to ignore it as you slumped against the wall, listening to the whirling on the interior running. Not a minute later you heard a loud flutter of steps as you looked up, Jungkook’s hair had been ruffled and he had looked extraordinarily tired, his scales however were lit up a sky blue, his lips parted as if trying to figure out if you were real or not before he hurried to you. 

His arms wrapping around you and a small whimper escaping him as his nose rubbed into your neck, your face pressed into his chest with a sigh of relief, the dull ache in your chest fading quickly as you basked in the warmth of Jungkook’s arms. You had hugged many people in your life before and sure it was nice, but you couldn’t even describe the wash of comfort and love that radiated through your entire being at being curled up in this man’s arms. 

Jungkook’s nose nudged at your neck a little and buried himself into your embrace as his fingers fiddled with the thick material of your hoodie, “Jungkook,” Jungkook shuffled a little, his body practically wrapped around you as his eyes slowly looked up from his content figure to meet Namjoon’s gaze, “You both should go lay down and begin to properly set your bond together, I’m sure you’re both exhausted.” 

Jungkook nodded wordlessly, perhaps not trusting himself to speak as he began to lead you towards his pod, “Woah, wait hold on.” Jimin cut in only for a snarl like growl to escape Jungkook, tentacles suddenly shooting from his back protectively pulling towards the front of his body to create a barrier between you and any threat that might take you away from him. 

“Woah holy fuck!” Jimin nearly screeched, holding his hands up and freaking out a little at seeing a killer glare on such an innocent face, “We didn’t come here for this…! What, what do you mean, set a bond? I don’t want Y/n out of our sight…!” 

Jungkook’s lip twitched in annoyance as he set his chin on your shoulder, his arms tightening around your waist and you could see the red glow of his scales slowly deepening further into a dark maroon, he did not look happy. 

Namjoon put up a hand, offering a tense smile, “All that entails is them being together and being close, they need to stabilize their bond. Once it’s set they can figure out whether they want to...bond further or…” Namjoon didn’t finish his sentence, is eyes warily lingering on the younger’s expression which was sharp and annoyed, “...You get the idea, I would advise against stopping him, trying to separate them now when he just got her back….I can’t guarantee I’ll keep you both alive.” 

Jimin and Seokjin shared a wary glance before stepping aside, Jungkook’s gaze broody as he watched them sharply as he trudged you both forward, his tentacles still out and floating behind him now as if ready to strike on contact. The tension didn’t leave until you were back into his pod once more, the room having not been changed except for a lot more clutter accumulation- much like your own room. 

You hadn’t even had the chance to open your mouth before you were suddenly picking up, your legs wrapping around Jungkook as you squirmed, “Jungkook!” You squeaked out, his hands gripping your ass tightly but his face kept nudging into your neck as he whined,  the killer aura he had not seconds ago immediately disappearing, “Don’t ever do that again,” You were nearly crushed when you were dropped onto the bed before Jungkook collapsed on top of you, “Please.” Guilt nearly devoured your heart at the way Jungkook held back a sob, his voice pleading and cracked, “It’s not fair! You-! You can’t just do this to me then leave. Never again.” You felt warm substance dripping onto your skin and your heart was pounding in your chest. 

An innate need coursing through your veins to dry his tears as you did so, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry okay?” You whispered out, your hands cupping his cheeks, that iridescent glow on his skin and his eyes watery and big, “I’m just…! I was just scared, I didn’t know what was going on and I just thought I needed time to think. I had no idea what the effects were and what would happen if I left. I’m not going to leave okay? I won’t leave.” 

Jungkook only closed his eyes, tears falling down his cheeks and you couldn’t help but watch in a melancholy awe at an almost glittery substance filling his tears, making the stains on his skin glisten and glitter under the dark lights of his room, Jungkook said no more, perhaps not trusting himself too and only curled himself further against your as your hands soothingly ran through his hair as his body melted into yours. No words were further spoken between you both as you curled against him once more, your nose burying in his hair with the innate need to comfort him. 

Feelings were too intense and magnified, as if you could feel every speck of hurt and misery Jungkook had suffered without you and despite being cognitively aware you in any other case wouldn’t be like this, you still were. You didn’t understand what happened, or how it happened, but what you did know was that despite all of the uncertainty, Jungkook needed you. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, neither of you had talked for what seemed like hours, only staying close in one another's arms, and slow but surely, that unstable feeling in your chest was beginning to fade and was replaced by what you could only describe as a warm, bright thrum.

Both of you were awake, but Jungkook’s eyes looked far away, his face still laid against your chest as you tenderly stroked through his hair, “Jungkook,” He didn’t respond right away, shifting a little before those doe eyes looked up at you, his lips jutted into a soft pout that nearly broke your heart out of guilt, “What....what’s going on? I don’t understand anything.” Your fingers delicately traced his prominent cheekbones, his face immediately nuzzling into your hand as his eyes closed. 

Jungkook’s lips trembled only a little as he mumbled, “...I...I’m not sure...I told you before that in order for a bond to be created it has to be wanted between both parties involved,” His nose nudged your hand as you tenderly thumbed his cheek, “Wh-which means...even if it wasn’t a surface thought you still energetically reached out and initiated the bond making you the Fi and me the Si since I accepted without realizing.” 

His lips went pouty before he pressed his head back against your chest as you stared down at him mildly confused, perhaps realizing this he spoke further, “Fi and Si are considered sacred opposites, in a bond both people take on one or the other, the initiator the Fi and the receiver the Si, it makes sense you didn’t feel as much as I did, the Fi in the bond isn’t affected nearly as heavily as the Si is because you were the one who created the bond.”

You still didn’t quite understand other than this being a Yin and Yang equivalent with a dash of omegaverse on the side, but then again, if humans had descended from Orionian’s then the apple truly didn’t fall too far from the tree. 

“And...the Fi is what…? The more dominant one?” You quirked a brow, a smile threatening to tug on your lips as Jungkook looked up at you, an unfair pout of his face as he set his chin on your chest, leading you to believe there was some merit to your words. 

“Not exactly, it just means you were the one who established the bond, making you the one who, in more primal words, the caretaker. With newly bonded couples, it’s imperative that you be together for the first few days to stabilize the bond. Si tends to be more....” He shifted a little, his scales becoming pink as he buried into your chest, “...Clingy...and Fi tends to facilitate and care for Si while the bond stabilizes.”

Your hand made its way back to his hair as you tenderly combed through the soft silky locks as Jungkook’s relaxed back against you, practically melting into your touch as you hummed, “And...if it isn’t stabilized?” 

Jungkook shifted a little against you as he mumbled, “...Well, both people become....I don’t know how to truly describe, if a bond isn’t stabilized...it becomes difficult to distinguish your own feelings from your partners, and with the bond unstable it causes an emptiness to fill both which causes sadness and pain, but because feelings can be mutually felt, it magnifies those feelings tenfold...Until eventually….” Jungkook frowned as he shrugged a little timidly, “Both go insane, or end up commiting suicide out of despair. Si feels it a lot more intensely then Fi though because of being the one who was tethered into the bond rather than creating it.”

Oh…

You said nothing, feeling even worse now knowing what had happened and what you could have possibly caused, not only this but for Jungkook to suffer through so much all because you couldn’t just hear him out for less than five minutes, “Don’t blame yourself,” Jungkook sat up a little to look at you earnestly, as if knowing exactly what you felt despite not saying anything, “You don’t know anything about Orionian’s, I...I should’ve handled everything better then I did…” His gaze lowered looking a little glassy as he sighed, “Just...please never do that again.” He collapsed back against you with a quiet mumble, “I was miserable.” 

“I won’t baby.” You ushered softly, pressing your lips into his hair as he basked in your love, the silence taking over once more as you relaxed back down against him, intending on letting yourself fall asleep again before you felt a low rumble in your stomach, before you sighed...Well he did say since you were….Fi...that you were supposed to be a caretaker....?

“Hey, I’m starving...you want me to get us something to eat?” You sat up a little as Jungkook shifted beneath you with a whine, his cheeks puffing a little as he huffed, saying nothing but you had a suspicion that he was definitely hungry, “I’m getting us something to eat, what do you want babe?” You got out of bed making Jungkook scramble with another whine. 

He immediately latched himself to you as you sighed, “Then we’re going together. Do you guys even have human food here?” 

“We have plamatic barrettes.” Jungkook perked a little in excitement as you frowned. 

“Can...Are...are they edible for humans?” You raised a brow as you opened the door, doing an awkward waddle as Jungkook back hugged you, happily nuzzling into your neck before he frowned.

“Well...um…” He rubbed his head as you tutted, it wasn’t that you weren’t willing to try it but you were really craving some fries right now and whatever it was they ate, didn’t sound even close to a potato. 

“We can try it later babe, I brought my wallet so we can go get something to eat, if Jimin and Seokjin haven’t left it’ll be like a two minute drive.” You shrugged as you both entered the common space. 

“You both aren’t going anywhere.” Namjoon had been running around with Taehyung while Jimin and Seokjin were working frantically on...what looked like an engine box as the man turned around with a serious expression making you and Jungkook twist into concern, “The Arbitrators are here on Earth, which means we’re leaving.” 

You didn’t quite understand the gravity of the situation but...you had a feeling this wasn’t an ideal situation.

[helpistolethesecharacters]

I'll Be Your Romeo If You'll Be My Juliet

Lucius Malfoy x Male Reader

Word Count: 1911

This was a request from an anon for a Lucius x male reader.

I hope this is everything you wanted from your request anon, if it isn't, feel free to send me another request!

---------

It was time for the annual Yule gathering. The Black family had the honor of hosting it this year, and they had taken every opportunity to remind everyone of that fact.

The heirs, the ones that mattered anyway, had been almost insufferable on the lead up to the yule break.

Lucius had mixed feelings on the whole subject, not that he could let that show to anyone.

Luckily, it looked like his betrothed was of a similar mind. The lovely Andromeda Black had been as quiet as he had been lately. If they had had even the smallest bit of interest in each other, they might have brought their concerns up.

Lucius thought fleetingly of a world where they could be in love. They would spirit themselves away to an abandoned classroom where they could talk uninterrupted about all of the things that were bothering them. They would take comfort in not being alone. It would bring them closer together and they could fall in love all over again.

But reality was a cruel mistress, and rarely allowed for such flights of fancy.

As it was, Lucius and Andromeda were just two teens who had been promised to each other from before they had even been born. There was nothing more between them.

Lucius sighed silently as he exited the floo into the receiving room at the Black Manor.

He barely registered an elf banishing the soot from his dress robes as he moved out of the room.

"Heir Malfoy, a pleasure to have you in our humble home this evening. And of course you as well Lord and Lady Malfoy!"

Lucius nodded at the welcome and stood obediently by his parents' side as he waited for the greetings to end. Sometimes he tired of all the stiff pureblood airs and graces.

After the obligatory back handed compliments they moved off into the party proper. With a last terse command to not embarrass the family name, courtesy of his father, Lucius moved away to see if he could find someone a little closer to his age.

He absently took a glass of sparkling cider from one of the floating trays that dotted the ballroom. The Blacks really had outdone themselves this year. The room was done in shades of white, sliver and blue. It really was stunning, but nothing seemed to be able to knock Lucius out of the numbness he had slipped into.

It had started at the start of that school year with the arrival of a transfer student. The other boy was their age, and the most enchanting creature that Lucius had ever laid eyes on. He had watched his sorting with longing, but the dratted hat had put Y/n into Ravenclaw. It wasn't really the end of the world, Lucius shuddered to think if he had been put into Gryffindor, or worse, Hufflepuff. Unfortunately, Lucius was already betrothed, but even if he wasn't, Abraxas Malfoy would never allow him to sully the Malfoy name with a male partner.

So Lucius had had to swallow his feelings as best he could. It hadn't worked very well, so he had allowed himself to pine from afar just a little.

He was jolted out of his daydream by the object of his thoughts. Lucius inhaled his mouthful of cider at the sight of Y/n.

He looked amazing in his dress robes, dressed up all fancy for the ball. Lucius thought to himself that if this was the cause of his death it would be worth it.

He was aware, once he managed to stop choking, of three things. One, everyone was looking at him, two, his face was probably red enough to shame a Weasley's hair, and lastly, that Y/n had the brightest e/c eyes possible.

He was struck with the awful thought that this was probably the first time that Y/n had known that Lucius existed.

'Well, that was a fantastic first impression,' Lucius thought to himself. He pointedly looked everyone who would meet his gaze straight in the eyes. As he had thought, it was enough to discomfort them into looking away.

Lucius raised his chin and moved off into a different area of the ballroom.

-------------

Ever since Y/n had realised that Lucius Malfoy was at the party as well, he had been jittery. The other boy was always looking at him. He had been the cause of enough distraction before this, when he was just someone who lurked at the fringes of his awareness while he studied in the school library. Now, Y/n was sure that he would never be getting rid of the image of Lucius in dress robes. How was he ever going to be able to concentrate again?

He shook himself slightly and tried to focus back in on whatever it was that the Greengrass heiress was talking about. He was supposed to be making connections here, maybe paving the way for a betrothal contract. As the first Pendragon to be seen in this and the previous generation, there was a lot of pressure to make the right political connections. A marriage to someone who was already politically powerful in this community would go a long way toward putting them back on the map in this magical community.

It was the Gods eternal joke that he was the only one that could do this. He only had one other relative, and his uncle wasn't exactly all there anymore. His parents had made it clear that this was their only chance to become the powerful family that they had once been.

Sure, potions had made it possible to have a male pregnancy, but it was still looked down on pretty harshly by most purebloods. Y/n had no idea how he was supposed to get his family back to its former glory, when to do it he would have to marry a girl. Why did he have to be gay?

------------

Lucius was slowly going out of his mind. He had moved around the party doing his best to ignore Y/n, but he couldn't get him out of his head. The other boy was still standing where he had first spotted him, entirely surrounded by everyone their age.

What was worse was that these were people Lucius had grown up with. He had known these people for his whole life, and it was this that allowed him to see what was happening.

They were all flirting with Y/n.

Lucius was almost certain that some of them, most notably his friends, were only doing it to irritate him and not because they were genuinely interested in Y/n.

He had been shooting furtive looks over at the group for the last half an hour, and still they kept it up. Lucius just didn't know what to do. Oh sure, he knew what he wanted to do, but he also knew that there was no way he could actually pull it off.

For one thing, if he showed his hand by going over there and making a fool of himself he would face serious consequences when he got home. He was sure he would already be in trouble for his incident earlier that night, but if his father heard even a hint of a whisper that his only heir was gay, well, Lucius wasn't sure he would survive that particular punishment.

He was pulled up short at the realisation of where he was. He was in a room with some of the biggest gossips in the magical world, all of which could just about smell weakness. He shot his eyes around the room and realised with a start that it was already too late.

He recognised the look in his fathers eyes when he met them. Someone must have said something about his preoccupation with his classmate to Abraxas. Lucius swallowed, noting his suddenly dry throat.

He looked away from his father, toward Y/n and his friends. There might be a way to salvage this, pretend to have been watching another of his friends. He would still be in trouble for lusting after someone who was not his betrothed, but much less than if it had been the very male Y/n.

There was a commotion over by one of the doors, but Lucius was too busy thinking. He was realising that he was done. He couldn't live like this anymore, and he was done pretending that he could.

He squared his shoulders and moved over to his friends.

"Excuse me, may I borrow Y/n for a moment. We won't be long."

He didn't even bother waiting for a response, just grabbed a hold of him and started off in a random direction. The only thing in his mind was getting as far away from other people so he could have this discussion in peace.

He pulled Y/n out of the ballroom and down hallway after hallway until he decided they were lost enough that only a house elf would be able to find them.

He turned back to the other boy after making sure that the area was empty. They were both panting a little after their impromptu jog.

Y/n was looking at Lucius cautiously.

Lucius surged forward and connected their lips.

They were gasping for breath again when he pulled back.

"You know we can't do this."

Lucius cut him off before he could continue.

"I'm done. I'm done being the perfect heir for parents that don't care to know the real me. I'm done pretending that I'm not head over heels for you. Most of all, I'm done holding back from the things I want just because society wants so badly to tell me no."

He pulled in a deep breath, still standing in Y/n personal space. Neither boy had moved back.

"I want you, Y/n, and I think you've known that for as long as I have. If I haven't missed my guess, you want me too. I'm certainly not alone in all the looks I've sent your way, and I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn't at least find out if you could feel the same way as I do for you."

Y/n sighed and shifted back a step.

"Those are pretty words Lucius, easy to say them here, alone in a secluded corner of someone else's manor, but how will you feel walking into Hogwarts next week, and letting everyone see. How will you feel when your parents cut you off?"

"I'm not totally helpless Y/n, I'll find a way to survive. I know for sure that if I have you by my side there isn't anything that we can't face."

He softly took Y/n's hand and stroked the back with his thumb.

"So what do you say? Can you feel the same way I do?"

Y/n shut his eyes in resignation.

"You know I do."

They stood at the end of their silent hallway for some time, just holding each other.

"You know this will be the second scandal of the night?"

Lucius pulled back to look at Y/n.

"What do you mean?"

Y/n looked at Lucius, shocked.

"What do you mean, what do I mean? Didn't you hear, just before you pulled me out of there, one of the older Blacks ran in and caused quite the scene. By the looks of things Andromeda is missing. From what I managed to gather, she's run off with that muggleborn from Ravenclaw, you know, Tonks-something, or something-Tonks."

[teklarn]

𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾 (𝓹𝓽. 2)

 character(s): katsuki bakugou x gn!reader 

a/n: ok so i just started writing on tumblr and honestly in my opinion for my first time posting smth on this the first part did really well thank u for all the likes :) (told from second pov; e.g you, your) reblogs are greatly appreciated :))

summary: bakugou x gn!reader. they have feelings for one another but have no idea how to express them, however y/n has someone pining for their attention. 

genre: a lil bit angsty 

warnings: cursing, jealousy, mutual pining, slow burn romance, aged-up to third year, love triangle (square?), physical injuries, kirishima gets a little toxic, also shirtless bakugou (awooga), a crap ton of time skips bc i can’t write action scenes for shit, bakugou is a flirt (lowkey but yeah), mentions of blood 

word count: 2112

pt 1 , pt 3

- - - 

kirishima had broken the skin on his lower lip with how hard he was biting it. he stood in the bathroom, rinsing his mouth, ignoring the slight sting the water brought. 

y/n was currently being blasted by bakugou, and they were fighting back. 

jealousy panged in his chest. 

bakugou had never let him know about how he felt about you, however kirishima was sure he felt something for them. you and bakugou were both a jumble of prideful and longing stares towards each other from across every room. the tension was thick enough to slice through. and while kirishima would never make a move in fear of ruining the friendship between him and bakugou, as well as him and y/n, gosh it didn’t stop him from wanting to. 

he’d stood on the side, cheering you on to no end. the sports festival last year, the year before that, training exercises, he was always there. kirishima was always there. 

whenever you needed him, whenever you wanted his company. so what did bakugou have over him? sure, the blond was strong and had bigger goals than kirishima, but why should that matter? 

what did bakugou have? why would you want him more when he was never near you? never made an effort to see you to be there when you asked for help. 

it was popular belief that bakugou was a noisy idiot, but he was actually quite a quiet boy. he didn’t bother to raise his hand in class, however he always knew the answer. he spoke rarely and only made conversation with those he was close with if they were the ones to make the effort to converse with him first. 

jealousy, jealousy, jealousy. kirishima despised it. 

whenever did he begin wanting to beat bakugou at something? 

the cloud of guilt welling up in his chest was going to become unbearable, and soon everything he ever wanted to say was going to come up like word vomit at the worst possible time. 

- 

you swiped at your cheek, brushing off the crumbling dirt. your timing had been off, and their flip backwards had landed you in an awkward position. a vulnerable one. 

honestly, though, it wasn’t like it really mattered. bakugou was a bit transparent himself. he wore a smug look like a golden medal, and held back his power just enough to keep you on your feet. 

his cocky attitude was irritating and it drew you in like a moth drawn to a lamp. 

sweat was beading down your temple. the day was exceptionally hot, the sun beaming down on your back like a proud child. 

you and bakugou had been at it for a while. with anyone else, you would have quit by now. it’s not that you gave up easily. no, not ever. but fights could get boring, especially if you were just smashing away at them with your quirk and they were acting like they could take it. 

perhaps you were being cocky. 

this fight, though. this was interesting. not only because it was bakugou; also because you knew so little about him. 

it was likely he never shared anything important to anyone. he was quite introverted. 

it was interesting for another reason. 

it was hot, bakugou sweats a lot. gosh, he looked delicious without a shirt on. he had a built figure accompanied by strong arms and a broad chest. 

he’d filled out quite nicely the past few years. you hadn’t noticed until now how much he’d grown. 

“don’t get distracted.” 

your eyes snapped up from his chest to his eyes. bakugou became a blur, shooting himself off the ground and flipping once in the air before propelling himself back down. 

before you could do anything, bakugou had you pinned, one leg pinning yours, both his hands wrapped around your wrists. he’d ditched his gauntlets, leaving the metal assistants in the sweltering heat, claiming he wanted to give you an equal fight. 

he panted atop you, hands tightening. 

tokage didn’t bother to leave her dorm today, thank goodness. it had just been the three of you. you, bakugou, and kirishima. 

the red head had suspiciously vanished halfway through the fight, though.

bakugou’s crimson eyes bored into yours. neither of you blinked for a moment. perhaps just a small eternity each of you silently reveled in. 

his erratic breaths slowed, and so did yours, although you stayed the same. unmoving, faces neutral but eyes giving away long-held secrets. 

your ears flushed, and butterflies came rising up uncontrollably. you should have pushed him off. instead you gave him a wicked grin, which earned a look from him and you couldn’t tell if he was confused or annoyed. 

“your big ass forehead is blocking the bright-as-hell sun. stay like this,” you mocked, wrenching your wrists from his grasp and snaking your arms around his neck. 

his cheeks burned red. “w-what?” 

“you heard me.” 

he scoffed, tugging you off his neck and standing. “shut up, shitface. we aren’t even done yet.” he readied himself in a fighting stance once more. 

“i thought you said you wanted to stop when you won?” you brushed yourself off as you stood. 

“i know what i said. you probably weren’t even giving it your all.” 

“’course i was.” you cocked your head. “why wouldn’t i?” 

“you’re strong, damn idiot.” 

you feigned surprise, pressed a hand to your fluttering chest. “the bakugou, dynamight himself, complimenting a humble soul like me? oh, i really must be good, then.” 

“not as good as me.” his face dropped from a smile. bakugou never got enough training no matter how early or late he stayed up, or how many hours on the weekends were spent kicking a bag or sparring with friends. hard workers did all of the work there was a still wondered if they were doing enough. the number one spot wasn’t empty, but it was still reserved for dynamight. 

- 

y/n had collapsed on their bed. kirishima was itching to tell them how he felt, however he was stuck at the doorway. 

they weren’t even dressed for bed, nor were they showered. 

he settled with leaving his friend alone, and shut the door softly to find bakugou standing right behind him. 

kirishima jumped back, closing his eyes in relief. “bakugou. what the heck man?” 

“you’re creepy as shit.” 

“i- what? you were the one staring at me while i-” 

“while you peeped in on y/n?” 

“i wasn’t peeping. i walked them back after the fight and they just collapsed. you were off doing something else and you worked them too hard.” 

it wasn’t a shock that bakugou was still riled up from the duel. this boy had the energy of a mad man. 

when bakugou didn’t say anything, kirishima said once again, “you overworked them.” 

bakugou swat away the comment. “only because they’re not working hard enough.” 

kirishima raised an eyebrow. “they work hard. they’re perfectly fine.” 

“fine?” 

“they’re amazing.”

“i know that, shitty hair. you think i’m blind?” 

“everyone can make improvements at their own pace.” kirishima’s voice dropped. 

“you train with me.” 

“it’s an hour before curfew.” 

bakugou jut a thumb in the direction of the door. “so? maybe you need some more practice, too,” he joked. 

“you’re an ass, bakugou,” kirishima released a breathy chuckle. 

the two wandered off to one of the training grounds. it was open, a wide court where they’d both kicked someone else’s ass. 

the sun was just setting, a new cool breeze coming to fill the spot of the violent sun rays. 

it was routine to fight each other out of nowhere. kirishima was usually quite playful, spewing jokes once in a while and taunting his friend. 

this fight was different. his face was stone-cold. kirishima often took the defensive role, as his quirk didn’t allow him to project any direct attacks to bakugou.

it wasn’t like kirishima was angry at bakugou, but as soon as they started charging towards one another, he couldn’t hold back. his chest tightened, arms hardening and joints becoming strong and stiff. 

with one clean sweep of his arm, bakugou was backing away from kirishima, propelling himself to the edge of the arena with a small blast. he’d always been up for a challenge. kirishima was willing to give him one. 

his sudden competitive demeanor seemed to be egging on bakugou’s. the blond tongued the inside of his cheek, grunting as he shot forth, hair flying wildly. 

swiftly, kirishima dodged, just barely missing a blast. his torso wasn’t hardened, so if he’d dodged any later, his stomach would have been scorched. 

bakugou always took their fights seriously. he knew better than to underestimate the boy who had put together his very own rescue mission. 

kirishima’s opponent stumbled from the momentum. he took his chance and brought a hardened elbow down on bakugou’s back, hearing a satisfying crack. 

bakugou was crushed to the ground with the hit. his face smashed into the sandy ground. he coughed, turning over and spitting dirt to the side. 

it took a moment for him to register what he did, but kirishima was at bakugou’s side within seconds. the sun was nearly gone, a pale blue sky flickering with the first sights of stars. 

it was hard to make it out at first, but not impossible. kirishima saw the blood dripping and smeared just above bakugou’s lip. he groaned, cupping his face in both hands as he sat upright. 

“argh” bakugou gasped. “shit, kirishima. what the hell?” 

“i...i’m sorry dude, i didn’t mean to.” i wanted to, but i didn’t mean to. 

bakugou raised an eyebrow and let a smile seep through his pain. “you’re improving, though.” 

“are you alright?” kirishima traced the small cut on his lip from earlier with the tip of his tongue. 

“i’m fine, i’m fine.” bakugou swatted his hand away. he struggled to get up, refusing kirishima’s help. 

“we should head back before this gets any worse.” 

bakugou kept his large hands hovering under his chin to catch the dripping and occasional chunks of blood.  

although he wanted the duel to continue (it was finally interesting) bakugou wasn’t stubborn enough to keep going. so he nodded, once again denying kirishima’s efforts to help him out. 

- 

you were in the common area, fiddling with a rubik’s cube. it was just you, as everyone else was spending the night among each other. ashido had invited you to her dorm a while ago, but you’d denied, wanting to spend a few more giddy moments to yourself. 

the door rattled, and in came your two friends, one with furrowed brows and the other with blood drenching the front of his shirt. 

bakugou’s head was tilted up in an attempt to stop the blood from flowing down. his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the blood trailing down the back of his throat. 

“oh my gosh,” you gasped out, racing to the bathroom. you came back with sanitary wipes in one hand and tissue in the other. “what happened?” 

“we were training,” kirishima started, taking a few tissues from the box and handing them to his friend, “and i accidentally hit him too hard.” 

“you didn’t hit me that hard. you barely did any damage!” bakugou objected. you approached him, and through his fingers, bakugou peered down at you. 

you asked him with your eyes, and he gave you silent permission to pry his arms away from his face. “are you okay?” 

“i’m just dandy,” he scoffed. 

“dude, i’m really sorry—” 

“shut the hell up kirishima. i don’t want your pity. i swear this is the only time i’ll surrender to you, you asswipe.”

you didn’t laugh, not even a chuckle. “bakugou, you need to see recovery girl.” 

“what the hell? no way. all she’s gonna do is give me one of those shitty slobbery kisses and scold me for being careless.” 

“your nose is broken,” you said gently. 

“so? can’t you fix it?” 

you raised a questioning brow. “you want me to help you?” 

“can you or can you not?” 

“i can try to set it but you’re better off going to recovery girl instead of settling with―” 

“all i need is possible. i don’t want to deal with that old lady’s shit right now.” using the tissues kirishima had stuffed into his hand, he caught the remaining blood dripping down his nose. “let’s go.” 

you were more than unsure. he would end up with a crooked nose if you made any small mistake, but he didn’t think twice as he grabbed your shoulder and led you in the direction of your dorm. 

- 

kirishima wished he hadn’t broken bakugou’s nose. not because he felt bad, though. 

[bubblesuga]

Once In A Lifetime

Summary: Yoongi is a pain in your ass, but sometimes that's okay. What's a cafe job without a little drama?

genre: college!au tags: smut, fluff, mutual masturbation, cream pie, dirty talk W/C: 4,740 a/n: i have a weak spot for blond yoongi

You seethe silently while you stare at the schedule on the pin board in the back room. You begged your boss, damn near pleaded on your knees in front of her not to schedule you with him.

Its hard enough to close with only two people but fuck, if it isn't impossible when you're with Min Yoongi.

Don't get it wrong, Yoongi has a knack for customer service and he's quite good at making coffee but for some reason-- when the two of you were completely alone-- he became unbearably annoying.

It's like the moment the open sign turns off, he forgets how to work. While you're in the back cleaning dishes, sweeping the kitchen, counting cash drawers, taking out the garbage and everything else involved with closing, Yoongi turns on his speaker and plays whatever song he's been working on recently.

Okay, sure. This job isn't the most important thing on the planet. You both are just trying to get a little extra cash while you push through college, but you'll be damned if you get paid the same while you do all the work.

"Kati!" you yell from the back, your arms crossed and your nails digging into each of your biceps. You hear footsteps behind you, causing you to turn around expecting to see Kati.

Unfortunately for you, Yoongi leans in the doorway with a smirk on his face, "Awe, we're closing together again!"

"Awe we're closing toget-" you begin to mock but end up giving up and allowing your frustration to take over, "shut up, Yoongi."

"Don't seem so glum, sugar plum. I promise I'll be a good boy and listen to you." His words were too sweet to be true, they were laced with his famous sarcasm which only made you want to yell at him more.

Before you have the chance to counteract his sarcasm, he taps your back lightly before turning around and walking back out.

If there was one thing you did enjoy about him, it was the view of him when he walked away.

As the hours pass, eventually you and Yoongi are the last ones there. When Seokjin said goodbye, you silently pleaded that he would stay for just a little while longer. He gave you a slight apologetic look, glancing at Yoongi before shaking his head and walking out.

A groan leaves your lips.

It's only 9:30, you still have half an hour until the shop closes and there's way too many pastries left over.

Yoongi stands behind you, silently wiping down the coffee machines and humming along to whatever song was playing over the loud speakers.

Leaning back against the counter, you cross your arms and watch Yoongi for a moment. In a dark denim apron and slim black shirt, it feels as though the uniform was made for Yoongi. You can tell he's been working out lately, his muscles are more defined beneath the fabric of his shirt. It's killing you that despite being as annoying as he is, he's still immensely attractive and he knows it.

The snapback rests backwards on his head, blond hair poking out subtly. He turns, meeting your eyes for a moment which causes you to turn away quickly. It's quiet for a while again.

"I don't think anyone is going to come in," Yoongi breaks the silence, "I doubt Kati would mind if we closed early."

"I think she would. She said she gets a rush in the last 15 minutes so we should be prepared for that."

"We're not going to get a rush, we're a coffee shop and it's almost 10pm on a Monday."

"I'm not disobeying Kati just so you can play your shitty music and do nothing while I close."

"Shitty," he scoffs, "my music is hardly shitty, and I do help close. Who do you think cleans the front?"

"Wiping down espresso machines isn't the hardest part of closing." Maybe you're being a bit too harsh. Maybe you're trying to cover up the fact that he caught you staring at him earlier.

Yoongi sets the yellow rag down on the counter, turning to you fully, "I also sweep and mop up here. It's kinda hard to do anything else when your coworker does everything else. Ya ever think of delegating, huh?"

You feel your eye twitch. Just as you're about to respond, the bell above the door rings and you instantly wipe away your anger and throw your best customer service face on.

"Hi, good evening! What can I get for you today?"

As you help the customer, Yoongi walks to the back.

You make her coffee, heat her Panini, and speak with her for a moment about the aromatics of the freshly ground coffee beans that you had become used to. You didn't have the heart to tell her that you didn't smell it anymore, so you talked about how that was your favorite part about working in a cafe.

When she leaves, you realize it's finally time to close.

Switching off the open sign, you open the cash drawers and begin counting. Anything extra goes into the safe, and it seems as though everything was in place tonight.

In the back, you can hear Yoongi moving around and you don't question what he's doing.

Cleaning, sweeping, and mopping... Eventually you finish the front and move to the back but you stop suddenly.

Yoongi isn't playing his music.

Raising an eyebrow, you push open the door to the back and see that the kitchen is completely spotless.

Yoongi puts the last of the dirty dishes away and turns to you, "Don't worry, princess. I did it just the way you like it."

"T- thank-" you stutter but you're not able to finish your sentence before Yoongi pushes past you and walks out the door. The bell rings and you realize that he's left. The two of you managed to close in under 20 minutes.

You can't help but feel a sense of guilt wash over you. You definitely we're being a bit too harsh, and it seems to have affected Yoongi more than you thought it would.

Sighing, you push a hand through your hair and walk out the door.

Your drive home is silent. You're not one to overthink, especially when it comes to Yoongi, but you feel the need to apologize.

After your nightly routine, you plop into bed and glance at your phone. It doesn't take much to make you open your contact list.

(Y/N) sent 10:55

hey. just wanted to apologize for calling your music shitty. for the record, it's not. you're pretty good.

Your phone dings quickly.

Yoongi received 10:56

no need to be sorry, i know i'm good.

You don't respond, rolling your eyes and tossing your phone onto the night stand.

~*~*~

Closing the next day was much more simple than before. Yoongi did the back again, but this time you could hear his music playing again.

The beats are much more incredible than you'd ever admit to him in person. His voice speaks melodically to the music, drowning out your thoughts. You find yourself tapping your foot to the beat as you finish cleaning up the front.

The song finishes and there's a sudden change of pace.

Instead of a strong bass line and incredible drum work, a piano plays through.

Your interest is piqued, your legs carrying you to the back where Yoongi stands. He doesn't notice you, allowing the song to continue to play.

"This is gorgeous." you murmur, and a switch flips in Yoongi.

His hands, though soaked with water and soap, reaches up and turns off the speaker. He turns to you, panicked, "N- no one is supposed to hear that one. I didn't realize it was so loud."

"So you're telling me you just...listen to your own music?"

"Well, no," for the first time, you see a blush creep across Yoongi's face, "I play certain songs for you, and there's certain songs that are just for me."

"You play songs for me?" Any resentment you had towards the man dissipated in an instant. Instead, butterflies swarmed in your tummy. Butterflies for him.

He scratches the back of his neck, "Well, I don't play them for me. I want you to see how good I am."

"Humble," you hum, giggling slightly. Yoongi seems taken aback by the sound but doesn't get a chance to dwell as you continue to speak, "why can't I listen to this song?"

Yoongi sighs, "It's embarrassing."

"Let me listen," you begin to walk towards the speaker but Yoongi puts his hands on your shoulders to hold you back, "come on, Yoongi."

Yoongi doesn't give, but you manage to slip passed his hands and fall against his chest. He chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist and waddling you backwards. In a last ditch effort, you attempt to reach passed him but his grip on you is surprisingly strong.

"No, no, Princess. That song is for me and me only."

The nickname has a stronger affect on you than usual.

"But..." you stick your bottom lip out in a fake pout, "I wanna hear the softer side of Min Yoongi."

Yoongi's eyes dart to your lips, licking his own. You're suddenly aware of just how close Yoongi is keeping you, his cologne filling your nose. He's cute from this angle, his nose is rounded and is tinged with red at the tip. His eyes, though dark, are brighter than usual. He smiles softly, a gentle giggle falling from his lips.

"I can't tell you how many times I've wanted you this close to me." Your heart melts at his words, and you look down to the way your chests are pressed against each other.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you question.

He smiles, "I did, you just didn't listen since you were so preoccupied with your little closing routine."

"My little closing routine makes the opener's life so much easier." you defend, trying to distract yourself from the way his hands sit at the base of your spine, playing gently with the hem of your shirt.

"I'm sure the opener is very concerned with the fact that you make sure you set the forks before the spoons and the knives right after." Yoongi whispers, his tone joking but his eyes glazing over. Even in the horrendous white lighting of the kitchen, he looks beautiful.

"Bite me, Yoongi."

Yoongi bares his teeth and scrunches his nose, "If you insist."

Without wasting a second, Yoongi's mouth latches onto your lips. You gasp into the kiss, but Yoongi's grip tightens and holds you closer.

To say your stomach exploded into butterflies would be an understatement. Your entire body lit up like a Christmas tree, heat radiating from your skin because Yoongi was everywhere. His hands were large, slipping underneath the hem of your shirt and resting on your lower back. He didn't stray any higher or lower, simply planting himself in one spot while his lips continued their attack on yours.

He smiles against your lips, taking them away only to begin his reign over your jaw line and down your neck. Then, he nips.

One.

Two.

Three.

By the fourth, his teeth are biting at your collarbones, but his hands have not moved from your back. You mewl above him, desperately clinging to his arms. Damn your neck for being so sensitive.

"Yoongi," you breathe, "touch me, Yoongi."

"I am touching you." He murmurs stubbornly against your skin.

You whine, "Your hands, Yoongi."

"Hmm," he hums, chuckling, "I like when you say my name."

Suddenly his hands drop down to your ass, kneading it through the thin fabric of your work leggings. He pulls himself back up to your face, planting his lips against yours again as you moan into his mouth.

Yoongi slips his hands between the two of you, hooking his fingers beneath the band of both your leggings and your panties.

"Are we really about to fuck in the kitchen?" You ask, your chest heaving.

Yoongi leans back, taking a second to assess the situation. "You're right, my apartment?"

"No, your car."

"Dirty girl," he grins, taking his keys out of his pocket, "I'll turn off all the lights. Go get ready for me."

You nod, grabbing his keys and walking out of the door. As you're about to reach the front door, it already swings open and Kati waltzes in completely unexpectedly.

Panicked, your eyes go wide and you halt just before leaving from behind the counter. Kati glances up from her phone, "Ah, perfect, is Yoongi still here?"

Swallowing, you nod carefully.

"Great, I need to talk to you both," she turns towards the kitchen, "Yoongi! Get your ass up here!"

Closing your eyes, you pray to god that he's composed himself a little more than you have. Sure enough, he walks from the kitchen and seems just as nonchalant as ever, "Yes, boss?"

"So, I need you two to close for the next couple weeks together. Jackson quit and Woojin can't work nights."

"...and?" Yoongi questions.

She seems slightly taken aback, "Well, I need to make sure you two won't kill each other."

Both you and Yoongi hold back laughter.

Resting his arm softly on your shoulder, Yoongi's skin is still hot against yours, "No promises, boss."

"I'm serious," she scolds, "It's only a couple weeks then I'll never schedule you two alone again."

"Yes ma'am." you put your hand up in a salute.

Working alone with Yoongi for 2 weeks? What could possibly go wrong?

Kati smiles, "Alright then. I'm gonna grab the money from the safe then I'll let you two get back to closing."

You two silently watch Kati unlock the safe beneath the register, taking out the deposits from today. Yoongi's arm hasn't left your shoulder, his fingers brushing lightly against your collarbone. When you turn over to him, his face showing no emotion but his hands doing more to you than you could ever imagine.

Kati turns back, "Okay, be here at 2 tomorrow. Thank you!"

As she walks out, Yoongi's arm falls from your neck.

You turn to him, raising an eyebrow as he wipes his brow.

"I was shitting bricks." Yoongi says, causing you to tilt your head. "Why?"

"You have hickeys all over your neck."

Your eyes widen, your hand flying to your neck, "Yoongi! Do you know how fucking bad that could have been?"

"I know, that's why I covered your neck." He explains, gesturing with just as wild eyes.

"No, no-" you shake your head, "We almost fucked in the kitchen, Yoongi. That's not okay."

"But we were gonna go to my car!" Yoongi's shoulders slump and his mouth is agape in confusion.

"Imagine if she had walked in when your tongue was down my throat."

"Well I would have asked her to join."

"Yoongi!"

"I'm kidding, you know I only have eyes for you babe." He steps closer, leaning forward to press a kiss against your lips once again. You pull away, shaking your head.

Despite the fact that it was taking everything in you not to kiss him again, not to giggle at his lighthearted jokes and just follow him to his car, you knew that you had to practice self-discipline otherwise no work would ever get done with Yoongi.

"Are you upset?" Yoongi seems hurt.

"No," you sigh, "I just don't think it's a good idea for us to do anything here."

Yoongi straightens his back, clearing his throat and adjusting his clothes, "Right. Wouldn't want anyone's coffee getting out late because we're in the back fucking."

"Right." you whisper.

Yoongi smiles softly, "Doesn't mean I won't imagine it."

"Such a gentleman," you roll your eyes, bending down to grab your bag, "I'll see you tomorrow."

~*~*~

"Can I get an Dirty Chai with oatmilk, Yoongi?"

It's the first time you had one of those late night rushes that Kati was talking about. There's a line out the door, drunk college students desperate for some sort of carbs to soak up the alcohol. Yoongi is running back and forth from the panini press to the espresso machine while you grabbed pastries and muffins for what seemed like hours.

It being busy hasn't distracted you enough from the past couple of days with Yoongi.

Yoongi has respected the boundary you set-- for the most part. Walking passed you in the small space behind the counter, his hands brush along your back, a trail of heat following his fingertips. Though it's not the most intense of touches, there's a sensuality of it that leaves you nearly a panting mess.

Your conversations have been more open, you continue to ask him about his music and he wonders aloud about your studies. He learned that you were a history major, specializing in paleontology. Ever since then, he likes to ask questions about random dinosaurs. It's certainly cute, because you can tell he's genuinely interested but he's only interested because you're the one telling him.

You still haven't been able to listen to that song that he started, and he insist its because its not good enough for the rest of the world to hear it yet. You're sure its finished, he's just not ready for you to hear what it's about. Something tells you you're getting close though.

Yoongi turns around a few moments after your request, setting a Dirty Chai on the counter. You call out the customer's name and smile as you hand it to her.

"Swap me, babe. My hands are shaking."

Oh yeah, the pet names have evolved as well.

"Shaking?" you question, but you don't have enough time to dwell as the panini press dings and you're rushing to the other side of the front.

Sure enough, as you glance back Yoongi's hands are shaking while he begins handing out pastries.

Finishing up a few more coffees, you call out customer names and the dining room begins to clear out. The line is gone and a few groups sit in the dining room, eating their food.

The second that Yoongi hands the last pastry out, he walks to the back without saying a word to you.

Glancing at the customers, you swallow and follow him.

When you enter the kitchen, Yoongi's taking deep breaths against the sink. He doesn't notice you, so you lean opposite him against the counter.

Leaning forward, you rest your hands on either side of Yoongi's face, forcing him to look you in the eye.

"That was a lot of people." Yoongi breathes.

"It was, but we kicked ass." you reassure him, but his breathing doesn't slow down.

"I think I'm having an anxiety attack," he explains, "can you hug me? P- pressure helps calm down the fight or flight response and-"

You don't allow him to finish, pulling him close to you and wrapping your arms tightly around him. His face buries itself into your neck, his breath fanning raggedly over your skin. It takes him a few moments, but his breathing slowly begins to calm, his heart rate slowing against your chest.

"If its ever getting to much for you just let me know and I'll fly solo for a little bit." you speak softly, your hand moving up to stroke the back of Yoongi's head.

"I can't do that to you," he sighs, "I'm sorry you have to see me like this."

"No, I get it," your nails begin to scratch his scalp gently, "a lot of drunk people wanting food is overwhelming, especially when their patience is non-existent. If you ever need to take a breather then I won't get mad."

"You already hate closing with me, I don't want to make it worse."

Your heart breaks.

"No, I don't hate closing with you. I think I was just trying to hide my feelings." You never expected to say this to him, but at this point you'll do anything to make him feel better.

He pulls away from your neck, a shy smile on his face. He has done a complete 180 from two nights ago.

"You have feelings for me?"

"Well, I certainly feel something." You look down, hyper aware of how close he is to you.

He grins, leaning down and pressing a soft, quick kiss to your lips. Before the conversation can go any further, the bell dings open and both of you jump apart, moving to the front to help yet another customer.

The rest of the night went by much more smoothly than earlier.

Yoongi turns on his music in the front while you do the dishes in the back. He's playing his usual mix, and you find yourself humming along to the songs as they come.

It's not until you're almost finished do you hear the familiar piano notes begin to play. Peaking your head out of the kitchen, Yoongi holds the speaker in his hands and watches you carefully. Slow melodies play out underneath his gentle voice, the lyrics portraying the man's first love.

You cross your arms, soaking in the lyrics as much as you can. His face is red as more emotion plays out. It doesn't take you long to realize that what you're listening to is the personification of Yoongi's passion. A conversation is held between him and the piano, and Yoongi sets flame to it all.

When the song comes to a close, you don't move, or breathe, or speak.

"Oh my god, say something!"

You look up, meeting Yoongi's scared eyes.

"When you become famous can I sell your autograph on ebay?"

Yoongi laughs, "Yeah, you can sell it."

You don't think of a witty response. Instead, you walk towards him and hug him once again. Resting your head on his shoulder, you two sway for a moment, almost dancing with the air. The atmosphere of the empty cafe has become much more calming than it was before.

His hands dance along your spine, "You know, I've never shown anyone that song before."

"I'm glad that my insistence made me the first." you tease, inhaling Yoongi's cologne. He certainly knows how to smell good.

"Your insistence, yes," he starts, "but also your impeccable ability to strengthen my confidence."

"Awe, does Yoongi have a soft spot for me?" you try your best to hide the way his smile is making your heart flutter.

"Always have." He murmurs, his lips kissing the tip of your nose.

"We're not very good at the whole 'not-kissing-at-work' thing." you giggle, feeling his grip tighten.

"I don't want to be good at it."

He doesn't allow you to respond before his lips are on yours once again. Against them, he smirks, "Shall we go to my car tonight?"

"God yes."

With steamy windows and Yoongi's hot body on top of yours, you both completely forget about your surroundings. His back seat is incredibly comfortable, your head resting on his shirt while he nips along your stomach and down to your hips.

It didn't take long for the two of you to move, you listening to Yoongi's every silent demand as he taps your hip to signal you to lift them.

Smiling, he murmurs a soft, "Good girl." before sliding your leggings and panties off in one go.

Now fully exposed, goosebumps raise under your skin. Yoongi is slow moving, his tongue drawing circles on your pelvic bone before biting down harshly. You gasp, your back arching into him.

"How long have you been this wet?" Yoongi asks, his fingers moving forward to collect your arousal. He slips through your folds, pushing a single finger into your aching heat.

You can't formulate a response to his question, because he begins a tormentingly slow thrust into your head, curling his finger upward.

Dipping his head down, his lips wrap around your clit, and he sucks.

Your hips jerk against him, but the pleasure doesn't play out for long before his pulling away.

"I don't want you to cum yet," he chuckles when you whine, standing and unbuckling his belt, "I just needed to make sure you were ready."

"And what?" you bite playfully, "you gonna pull out a huge snake or some shit?"

"I don't think so," Yoongi responds, sliding his pants down his legs, revealing his cock, "it's alright."

It's more than alright. Your mouth waters over the sight, twitching slightly from his arousal. It's curved upward, the tip already a hot red and leaking precum. His hand wraps around the base of it, stroking it slowly. Out of habit, you slide your middle and ring fingers into your mouth, sliding them down your body and to your clit.

You eyes don't pull themselves away from the way Yoongi is skillfully touching himself, thumb running along the tip and a string of saliva falling from his mouth to the tip of his cock.

"You like watching me touch myself?" He asks, his voice significantly deeper than it was before. You nod, not looking away from his cock.

"Answer me." he takes his hand away from his cock and brings it to your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He's willing to sacrifice his own pleasure to get an answer out of you, and for some reason that only turns you on even more. You speed the movements on your clit, moaning softly while you look into Yoongi's eyes.

He clicks his tongue once he notices your movements, grabbing your wrist and dragging it up to his mouth. Licking your fingers clean, he grabs your other hand and holds both of your wrists against your pelvic bone, just out of reach of your heat. He likes playing games, and he likes to win.

"Yes," you finally manage, "yes I like watching you jerk off."

He grins, a gummy grin that makes him seem much more innocent than he is. The words are dirty falling from your tongue but it only seems to heighten the fire in Yoongi's eyes.

"Good," he says, gripping his cock again and thrusting into his hand, "should I let you cum just from watching me?"

Your wrists twitch in his other hand, "P- please."

"Okay, whatever you want princess."

He lets go of your hands and your fingers fly to your clit, desperately rubbing harsh circles while he continues to stroke himself.

As his pace speeds up, he begins to let out soft, subtle moans. Your chest heaves at the sounds, hands shaking while you push yourself even closer to the edge.

"Louder, Yoongi," you beg, "please."

Yoongi bites his bottom lip briefly, a small whimper falling from his mouth while you arch your back, the heat in your abdomen growing stronger and stronger.

Yoongi's hand stops suddenly, "Where do you want me to cum?"

You grin mischievously, gesturing to your core.

Yoongi's eyes widen, crawling closer to you and leaning down, "You want me to cum in your pussy?"

You nod frantically.

"Who would have thought my pretty princess was such a dirty girl."

"Just fuck me, Yoongi." you whine, pushing your heat towards him. Yoongi does just that, slipping his cock into you. You instantly clamp around him, causing his hips to stutter deeper into you.

He gains his rhythm quickly, not holding back as he holds your hips into his back seat and pounds into you harshly.

A deep growl erupts from his chest at your small whimpers, an almost primal instinct taking over him as he leans down to kiss you. The second his lips touch yours, you gasp and feel yourself release. A loud moan of his name falls from your lips as you come undone, pushing his hips into yours with your heels.

Yoongi follows suit quickly, his release coating your walls and his head collapsing onto your chest.

"Holy fuck." He says after a minute, his mouth agape while he tries to catch his breath.

"Better than you imagined?" You feel proud of yourself for having such a huge affect on Yoongi. It's not often does he seem caught off guard.

"Way better," he replies, "the best I've ever had."

You run your nails over his scalp again, feeling him shiver against you, "Maybe if you take me out, you'll be able to have it again."

Yoongi pulls his head up, "When, where, what time?"

"I'll leave that up to you," you smile, "let's just cuddle for now."

"Don't have to tell me twice."

[forever-rogue]

Crimelord Boba Fett proposing to female reader and promises to protect her with his life. :)

Did someone say King of the Underworld Boba Fett? Don’t mind if we do. Goodbye Bib Fortuna, long live the King.

Boba Fett x Fem!Reader; warnings: egregious use of little one

Part 2

Star Wars Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

The air is acrid and thick, feeling like it was suffocating you rather than helping to you live. Raising a hand to your face, you looked around the desolate Dune Sea, wondering why on earth you were being summoned to Maker forsaken Tatooine. And who the kriff was summoning you?

All you knew was that you had been summoned from your home on Corsucant - rather forcefully, and dragged back to this hell hole. Under any other circumstances you would have fought back or questioned what was actually going on, but something about the small but imposing woman that dragged you with her caused you to keep your mouth shut. She hadn’t given you so much as a name - hers or your mysterious summoner, and you hadn’t asked.

She’d watched you closely on the hours long ride to Tatooine, seeming to study and observe you with curiosity. At one point you had wanted to snap back at her but the weapons holstered to her side and stowed around the ship made you bite your tongue and bide your time. The woman didn’t say a single word; neither did you.

If you were being taken to your death, then that was that. You’d made that much up in your mind as soon as you’d stepped foot onto the ship. Harsh and cruel as it was too say, there wasn’t much you would be losing, nor would many people miss you. It was a quiet life you led these days, keeping to yourself and your humble abode in a small, but safe corner of Coruscant.

You’d been there, waiting, hoping, wishing ever since - no.

No, no, no. You weren’t going to let your mind back to that dark, haunted place. It was something that still managed to seep into the front of your mind, no matter how many years you tried to suppress them. It was when a man with dark hair would come into your little shop and you’d only catch a glimpse. When you heard deep, rough laughter that was all consuming. When you’d see a hint of green armor. When you’d hear a voice even remotely similar to his...

Boba Fett might have died many years ago, but he had never left your heart. He was still in everything you did, so many little things reminding you of what was and what could have been.

You hadn’t been back to this living hell since the day he’d died, lost to the sarlacc and left only to become memories that would fade away over generations. You’d wanted to stay there, to wait and see if somehow he would come back to you, but you couldn’t.

You’d left the next day and never looked back. You hated yourself for it, but you also...your heart had been broken into hundreds of millions of tiny shards of transparisteel. Ever since, you’d hoped that maybe one you’d come across your lover.

But the day never came. And while you went along with life, you still held onto the slight hope that maybe one day...maybe, maybe, maybe.

A soft sigh escaped your parched lips as you felt immediately all consumed by the sand, like it was becoming a part of you or you were destined to become a part of it. Either way, it was enough to frustrate you as you shielded your eyes from the harsh heat and blazing light of the twin suns.

“Keep up,” it was the first time she had spoken to you since she’d first called your name and instructed you to come with her. She was commanding for a figure so slight, but you had a feeling she was much deadlier than she looked - and she was already a sight. Biting back a groan you picked up the pace and trailed after her, confusion clouding your features as you began to realize where you were headed.

This was Jabba’s Palace...well no - Bib Fortuna’s. Just like Boba, Jabba, the disgusting, foul, loathsome leader of the galaxy’s biggest syndicate had been dead for some time.

What the kriff would Bib Fortuna want with you?

You’d cut off any ties you’d had with any of them long ago, before Boba was even dead. There was no way you could ever provide anything useful to him...

Autopilot had completely taken over and you were barely aware of the fact that you’d reached the palace and were headed towards its inner sanctum. Your stomach lurched as you walked through the walls you hoped would forever be a memory as you realized just how clearly you remember it all. Sure, the place had seen better days, wearing down from the harsh sandy winds and the hands of time, but it was ever the same.

Except this time - few people were milling about, no workers to be seen and it felt surprisingly...tame. Not something you thought would ever be possible for his place. Something had to have happened... something was off-

“Down,” the woman pointed at the stone staircase, her hand on the small of your back as she gently nudged you towards the top step. You were half surprised that she didn’t just completely shove you down to the bottom, but the energy you were getting from her wasn’t mean or negative...just curious.

“W-what?” you managed to stammer, your throat dry and scratchy the heat and lack of water. She quirked a dark brow and pointed at the stairs again.

“Down,” she repeated, “it’s best not to keep him waiting.”

Kriff. You were going to die at the hands of Fortuna. He was a weak man, bolstered by those he keep around him, ego inflated beyond measure. On his own he was a pathetic little thing, but when surrounded by his goons, he was cruel and merciless at worst.

Accepting your fate, you started your slow descend down the stairs, your heartbeat screaming in your ears with each foot fall. Your chest was thumping so wildly you were sure that it would burst through your chest at any point.

But nothing met your ears, there were no sounds, no talking, no music, nothing. It was almost deafeningly silent.

When your feet hit the soft sand floor, you did a quick survey of the almost empty room. A few torches lined the wall, but that was about all. The throne was in the center of the room as it always was and -

Maker. The Throne.

As you looked at it, you swallowed the lump in your throat as you looked upon the singular figure in the room besides yourself.

The man was in armor from head to toe. Green armor. With red accents. You knew those colors, those colors you once considered your own, those were his colors.

But no - it couldn’t have been. No, no, no, this was an impostor, this was -

“Hello little one,” that voice. You knew it more intimately than anything else, you know that voice inside and out. That voice that had laughed at you a million times, that voice that been in your ear during the heat of passion, the one that teased you, the one that scolded you when you did something dangerous. That voice.

It was his. Boba’s.

“No,” you shook your head as you refused to move closer to the man that was surely a pretender - a great one, but still not your Boba, “y-y-you aren’t...no.”

He remained silent for a long moment, the dark T of his visor trained on your as he refused to look away. You stared right back, as if you were seeing a ghost - in some ways you were.

Slowly, he rose to his full height, stepping down from his throne, imposing as ever as he slowly walked over to you. You stilled in your actions, wondering if you should run away or fight or something. Instead you watched as he came closer and closer and closer - right until he stopped dead in front of you.

“You’re just as pretty as then,” his voice was soft as he reached a gloved hand up touch your cheek. He hesitated before making contact with your skin, stripping the worn leather gloves off and tossing them mindlessly onto the sandy floor. He watched you closely before finally touching your cheek to his see if you would stop him or flinch out of his touch.

But you didn’t; despite believing he was gone all of these years, a small bit of you still had hope.

“Boba?” it was a weak, pathetic little whimper as you keened into his touch. He stalled for just a moment, his heart almost stopping at the sound of his name from your lips. It was even sweeter than he remembered, “is it really you?”

“I told you I’d never leave you, little one,” he rasped as you worked to blink back tears that had started to well up in your eyes. You looked at him with wide doe eyes as he made a small sound in the back of his throat. As a single tear pearled up and ran down your cheek, he tenderly wiped it away, “it just took me a little longer than planned to get back to you.”

And then you laughed; despite the situation and the overwhelming onslaught of emotions, you just laughed. Before you knew it, he was laughing as well, a warm, rich sound that you remembered like it had been yesterday.

“Boba,” you couldn’t believe it. This whole time, all these years, your hope wasn’t wasted after all, “you’re alive. You’re here - I’m here. I-I...I dreamed of this day so many times.”

“As have I,” he promised, “I’m just...I’m afraid that I might be a little different than you last remembered - the sarlacc was not a kind friend to me.”

“I don’t care,” you promised him, “I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care. You’re alive and that’s all...I...please, let me look at your face. I need to see you, Boba.”

He gave a curt nod before dropping his hand from your cheek and exhaling deeply. Slowly, he put his hands on either of the helmet - newly painted, you noted - and tugged it up and off. You swallowed nervously, anxious to see the eyes of your lover once again.

Boba let the helmet fall to the ground, the thud dulled by the pillowy sand, nervous for you to say something, anything. You weren’t sure what you had been expecting, but this? This was nothing; scarred and more weathered than when he had been a younger man, he was still the same as always. Boba - your Boba.

“At least one of us is - “

Before he could say anything in the negative, your put your hands on either side of his face before crashing your lips onto his. He was taken aback for a moment at your sudden action, but it didn’t take more than a beat for him to wrap his arms around you and hold you tightly against his chest. It was like no time had passed at all, and you still knew each other just as you always had.

Only when you needed a breath of air did you pull apart, staring back into his soft brown eyes.

“Boba,” it was soft - reverent - and worked to thaw the icy harshness that had settled over his heart, “I love you. I’ve always loved you so much. I never stopped. I always hoped that somehow you would make your way back to me.”

“Always, my little one,” he promised with a gentle kiss to your forehead, “I will always protect you. No harm shall ever come to you so long as I live and breathe.”

“I can’t believe you’re alive,” you wrapped your arms his neck and held him, just held him, as the two of your synced your breathing and become reacquainted with each other’s bodies.

“Will you stay?” he asked quietly as you pulled back and nodded. For Boba, you would have done anything and gone anywhere in the galaxy, “w-with me?”

“Yes,” you promised him softly as you traced over his features delicately with the tip of your finger, “always. There’s nothing that would make me happier.”

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered as you nodded, “I promise we’ll never be apart again.”

“I’ll hold you to that Boba Fett,” you sighed contentedly, “I love you, Boba.”

“I love you too, little one,” he kissed the top of your head, “come on, we have much to talk about.”

“And now have all the time in the galaxy.”

[dreamii-yume]

HIS BIRTHDAY IS TOO FAR BUT I can't remember if I sent the ask for him already though sooooo your sinfic on him

You give him his gift but it really wasn't the one he really wanted, those sad eyes again as he tried to convince you to go back to his room, you did agree to doing it again why not now then? It is his birthday afterall and he can already feel that wanting feeling bubbling in his stomach yet again

(This is for Kalim btw)

Oh, you’re just in time, Darling LOL This ask must be referring to the last Kalim Sinfic I wrote, so— birthday crumbs…cRumBS?? Pls this is just pure brain rot post with no plans whatsoever (￣∀￣)

He’s smiling as always as he received your gift, just a humble item that looked like something he would like, or possibly something that you made yourself, whichever of the two applies. But even as he thanked you for your hard work and effort, you felt as though he wanted to say something else. Normal Kalim would have a bigger smile than that after all, active and would even give you a hug in return, a kiss if he’s feeling extra enthusiastic.

But he’s oddly quiet about it, averting his eyes and scratching the back of his head, it was clear to you that he looked quite unsatisfied. At first, you thought it may be because your gift might have been too underwhelming, he did received tons of gifts prior to yours after all. What makes your gift more special than anyone else’s? A tinge of insecurity bubbles up inside you, to the point that you weren’t able to keep your mouth shut about it.

You can’t really ask if he wanted something else since you’re on a strict budget. Kalim’s a good person, so he surely wouldn’t ask of anything that would deliberately put you in a tight spot, but living in such a lavish lifestyle had surely raised his taste for things. So, with that out of the way, you ended up apologizing instead. Sorry that you weren’t able to give him a fancier gift and such, it actually came out way more pathetic than you would’ve wanted…But to your surprise, Kalim frantically denied all your assumptions of him being unhappy with your gift.

Shaking his head and moving his hands in denial because no, it’s not like he’s disatisfied or anything! It’s just that he was embarrassed, he admits very honestly, he was embarrassed because there was something else that he was expecting to receive from you and ended disappointing himself when you never even mentioned it. He laughs it off for expecting something that he knew wouldn’t come true, realistically speaking, but he clearly looks like he still wanted that certain something.

But of course, you were confused on what it is, so you pestered him about it. If it’s something that you can do right now, then you’d gladly obliged to get it for him, just what is it exactly? Kalim stared at you for a moment, his cheeks were becoming redder and redder by the second, his fantasies are probably in shambles and hesitating as we speak. But he leaned closer to your ear to whisper, seemingly secretive and cautious about everyone else that could be listening nearby…Like Jamil just behind that pillar over there.

“Then, would you come to my room please?” Seems simple enough.

But following him towards his room slowly made you realize that this “something else” was not as simple as you predicted it to be at all…Well, it’s not like you actually expected it to be simple in the first place so…But the moment you entered the room, Kalim quickly closed the door and a tiny click of a lock was ensured, making you turn around to see him stepping towards you in restless manner. Before you could even contemplate on what he was trying to do, he had already cupped your cheeks towards him and stole a kiss right then and there. It went all too fast, like your world just stopped the moment he looked like he turned into a different hornii person. He did it so shamelessly too, eager to just press his lips against yours as if its the most natural thing to do once you locked the doors behind you.

The next thing you knew, he’s casually taking his coat off in the heat of the moment, his tounge pushing itself inside your mouth and all. It took a while, but the moment your brain finally managed to refreshed back into awareness, you panicked and tried pushing him off. You weren’t thinking it was something malicious, is Kalim even capable of doing anything malicious? But you were confused, so you tried to give yourself some space, but no, Kalim fought back by pushing you down on the bed…He did pull away after a while though, once you stopped struggling and just let him do what he wants, panting with saliva slick from both your tongues.

“S-Sorry…I just…can’t help it…” Kalim apologized, biting his lip in guilt as he hovered above you. His eyes were shining and concerned, making a quick observation to see if you’re hurt anywhere from how rash he acted. “I appreciate your gift, I’m happy that you took all those time, I really am…! But I…I need something else…A-A different kind of gift, you know…?”

He gulped. “Hey, do you remember what you said before, when we were stuck in the lockers? You said if I do good and keep your secret, we’ll be able to…do that again…” He said, leaning forward in desperation due to the amount of effort he had to exert in order to hold himself back until this moment. It was difficult to ignore him as his crooked smile was pleading for your sympathy, your touch, everything. “I-I did good, right? No one found out and I—I kept my promise too, so…”

You squeaked as his large hands began to slowly massaged your chest through your clothes before laying his head down on it like a pillow. His cheeks were dangerously red, and you worry if he’s okay from all that blood going in his head, but his expression seemed so tranquil in this position actually. He looked like a child, using his puppy eyes to draw you in, but seemed giddier than before. “(Y/N)…” He whispered with a gentle smile. “…We’re in bed now, so…Please?”

“…Do it with me again.” He lifted himself up, coming close to your face and you can just see how his eyes swirls between love and lust at the same time as he looked down at you, excitedly. “That’s…That’s the best gift that only you can give…”

Just give Kalim that Darling Pussy™ Come on. It’s not that hard.

[starilicious]

ishq wala love (echo x gn!reader)

》 summary: reader comforts an insecure echo after the end of tbb episode 4 "cornered" about having mechanical parts as part of his body.

》 word count: ~2.2k

click here to read on AO3

》 warnings: slight sensory overload, mild panic attack (i think it could be classified as relatively vague in regards to the description), insecure echo about his body, a teensy bit of in universe swearing, lots of flufffff and a dash of angst here and there, no use of y/n [if i should add more warnings, please let me know!]

》 spoilers: extremely mild ones from tbb episode 4 "cornered"

》 a/n: hello! this is my first tbb fic, so i really hope i do the show, the characters, and the fandom justice hehe ^_^ over the past few days, i've become obsessed with tbb fics, particularly the echo x reader ones bc my GOODNESS this man is such a soft bean who deserves all the love in the galaxy. as a result, please enjoy this sleep-deprived frenzy of a fic that i wrote at 1 am and let me know your thoughts! :)

》 misc. notes:

• title of the fic is from the hindi song "ishq wala love" from the film student of the year. i've linked the song (in blue) with some pretty good english translations in case you would like to take a listen, but it isn't necessary for the fic–i just thought it fit well!

• i kind of got way too invested in building up the environment at the beginning, so apologies if it seems like a slow start! i just had to indulge in having the other characters there too <3

• please ignore the inaccuracies of the havoc marauder. i don't really know what the ship looks like, especially the living quarters, so i unintentionally ended up using the ghost from swr to guide my writing for that part.

• what the reader says at the end about the word in love in her native language is true. the language i'm referring to here is hindi, and we have several different words for love. in my very humble opinion, i think it’s one of the many characteristics of the language that makes hindi so sweet-sounding and poetic :)

• THANK YOU FOR 100 NOTES OMG AHHH YOU ALL ARE TRULY AMAZING 😭<333 (7/1/2021)

After Tech piloted the Bad Batch away from Pantora and safely entered hyperspace, you all decided to turn in to get some rest–or at least attempt to. With the bounty hunter scare, you and the boys figured it would be best to discuss what to do tomorrow morning, for Omega’s sake.

You tucked Omega in with her doll and offered her a comforting smile. “Don’t worry ‘Meg,” you said softly, running a gentle hand through her cropped blonde hair. “You’ll be safe, I promise. You’re stuck with us for life.”

Omega smiled sleepily at your teasing and held her arms out for a hug, one which you gladly indulge. “Sweet dreams, love,” you murmur as you let go. You shut off the lamp in her makeshift room and closed the curtains as you climbed down the ladder.

You turned around to find Hunter looking at you from his seat in front of the blinking controls. You raised an eyebrow as you plopped down in front of him unceremoniously, the exhaustion of the action-packed day catching up to you.

"You're good with her," he murmured as you both glanced at the light beige divider and you shrugged in response.

"Just looking out for her. Besides, you're not so bad yourself. She mimics your every move," you grinned. Hunter chuckled fondly as he recalled the memory where they were all stuck in the Kaminoan prison cell and Omega copied his every gesture.

The two of you lapsed in a comfortable silence as you mulled over the day's events, the hum of the ship thrumming beneath your feet.

"We'll be okay. It's tiring and difficult and none of us know how to raise a child, but we'll be okay," you said, breaking the quiet with optimism. You placed a hand on Hunter's shoulder and smiled. "Crosshair will be okay too. Have faith."

Hunter sighed but nodded in agreement as he put his hand over yours. "Goodnight," he said as he stood up, stretching his muscles.

"Sleep well."

You sat at the small table for a few more minutes to think before standing up yourself. You quickly checked in on Tech in the cockpit since he was on watch, and he immediately shooed you away, insisting you get some sleep. You had a feeling he only did so to optimize the ship in peace without distractions.

Nevertheless, you obliged and left him alone. Walking to the back of the ship, you completed your rounds. Wrecker was snoring loudly and you stifled a laugh. At least he was sleeping well–it was all you could ask for really. But frankly, you had no idea how Crosshair was ever able to sleep through it. Thinking about him and seeing his empty bunk made your heart pang in loss, but you were as determined as the rest of them to somehow bring him back. You had to.

You opened the door to Hunter and Tech’s shared room to find Hunter already sleeping soundly and you quickly left. With his enhanced senses, he was already a light sleeper, and compounded with his responsibilities as a leader, he rarely got any rest. You worried for him.

Last stop was your and Echo's room. You stepped in to find the light still on. Echo was sitting on the floor in front of your bunk, staring at the ground.

"Hey there handsome," you joked lightly in an attempt to get his attention and mask your unease. Echo usually only came near your bunk when something was wrong and after everything that happened today, it was safe to say you were concerned.

Echo didn't respond. Did he hear me? You make your way over to your lover and sit down in front of him. You place your hands on top of his.

"Echo, honey?" You said softly and finally finally he looked up at you. Your heart dropped into your stomach.

"Oh, darling," you breathed and you moved to his side to envelop him into a hug, his head resting comfortably in the crook of your neck. You didn’t say anything more–you saw the deep pain swirling in his eyes, the grief, the loss. The anger. You let Echo take the lead; you knew how difficult it was to wrangle raging thoughts and muster them into words.

You didn’t know how much time passed of you two sitting on the floor, breathing each other in before Echo spoke.

“Today… when we went on the supply run, I was dressed as a droid.”

You bit your lip, knowing exactly where this was going. But you didn’t interrupt, letting him continue. Your thumb rubbed absentmindedly on his arm as you listened.

“That vendor we were talking to wouldn't take what we had. And then he saw me,” Echo took a deep breath. You stayed quiet, holding his hand in a manner that you hoped soothed his anxieties at least a little bit.

“Hunter sold me as a droid to him. I-I know he doesn’t see me as a droid. I know that. But–” Echo’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat of the emotion building up. Echo didn’t know how to express what he wanted to say. He didn’t even want to speak it aloud–that would make it feel too real. And Echo severely doubted he could handle the heartbreak. Can I do this?

“Cyar’ika,” he murmured and you hummed in response. Echo pulled away from you, his hand still in yours. Now or never. “I need you to be completely, absolutely, 100% honest with me,” he whispered. Echo steeled his expression, doing his best to hide how terrified he truly was.

You nodded because of course you would be. When were you not?

But the way Echo gazed at you threw you off. Something was wrong, very wrong. You were almost scared of what he would say next, but you made a gesture for him to say what was on his mind. Clearly, this was important.

“Do you really want to be with me when I’m just–” Echo struggled with the last few words and you strained to pick them up with how they caught in his throat. “–a pathetic, disgusting, hybrid machine?” It’s out, I said it. I said it. Echo felt like he couldn’t breathe, the pressure on his chest too much, too much. He stared down at the floor, face flooded with shame.

You stared at him in blatant disbelief, eyebrows furrowed and mouth open from a shocked laugh. No no no Echo. You’re nothing of the sort. You didn’t move. Echo’s breath hitched as he looked back up at you, broken and open and raw.

“Don’t lie, please don’t lie to me. I know there's no way you could ever love me when I… when I look like this,” Echo whispered, but he may as well have shouted with the way the blood was rushing through your ears.

And then something in you snapped.

You removed your hands from his and placed them on his cheeks, pulling him in until your foreheads were touching. “Echo, you need to listen to me,” you instructed and heaved a breath as you tried to sort your own rushing thoughts into articulated words. But the effort was futile as your careful speech turned into a haphazard and passionate stream of consciousness.

His eyes glistened with unshed tears and your heart broke into pieces. Echo gave you all of his attention. What are you going to say? He didn’t want you to agree, but he would understand if you did. Echo felt disgusted with himself. The walls were closing in on him. Breathing was getting harder.

“You are the best damn thing that has ever happened to me. I don’t give one flying banthashit about any of your mechanical parts. If anyone ever says anything about them, they’re di’kuts and you can send them my way because I will not hesitate to punch some sense into them,” you spat with pure determination, not even noticing the Mando’a slip. After being surrounded by clones for so long, you absorbed bits and pieces of the language. You didn’t even register how Echo picked up on the word, much too focused on getting your point across. You were a person on a mission and nothing would stand in your way.

The knot in Echo’s stomach was loosening a bit, the storm in his mind beginning to break. The walls were a bit farther from him. He wasn’t drowning in his own presence anymore.

“Because you know what? You’re still my Echo. You’re a man, my dear. Not a machine. You never were, and never will be. These parts?” you gestured to his scomp link, his legs, the cybernetic implant in his head. “They mean nothing. Absolutely nothing. Don’t focus on them.”

You smiled sadly as you rubbed your thumbs gently on his cheeks. “I fell in love with you, Echo, not your body. I love the way you make me laugh, the way you comfort me, the way you cry with me. As much as I kriffing hate that you have been through so much pain because of those damned Separatists, I’m grateful for the fact that I’m in love with a man who would do anything for his family, for his brothers.”

A tear slipped down your cheek as you remembered Fives coming back home from the Citadel but no Echo in sight. You would never admit it to anyone, but you swore a piece of you had died that day.

Echo felt like he was going to cry. The pressure that had been building up in his chest was releasing. He could breathe again, slowly, slowly. His only focus was you, was your words. The artificial lights didn’t seem to be as glaring now. They were softer, calmer.

“Echo, my love, even through it all, you not only survived, but you came out on top, victorious,” you paused, briefly overcome with how much love and gratitude you had for this wonderful man. “You came back to me, Echo, and you’re as handsome as ever. I have never stopped loving you, and never will. Don’t you ever forget that darling.”

Echo drew in a shaky breath. The harsh cold of the floor grates was biting into his skin, but he didn’t care. It grounded him as much as your warm touch on his face. He could breathe again. My cyar’ika.

Your fiery and passionate emotional speech came to an end as you stared into your lover’s eyes. There was so much more you could say, but you feared words would not be able to convey it all. You hoped your eyes would be enough to soothe his pained and tired soul.

Silent tears trailed down Echo’s face and you gently brushed them away as you pulled him into a tight hug. It was all you could do to not cry yourself. Echo was always so strong–you admired him for it.

“Thank you,” he whispered, voice thick with appreciation and love. You didn’t say anything. There was no need to. The charged air between you both was enough. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence on the floor of the Havoc Marauder, deep in your own thoughts.

“Ishq wala love,” you muttered fondly after some time, still caught up in your own mind.

“Hm?” Echo questioned, curious as to what you said. The soft sound gently pulled you out of the clouds and back to the man in your arms as you attempted to explain.

“There’s a phrase in my native language, ishq wala love. You see, in Basic, there’s just one word for love, which is love. But back home, we have several different words for love, each with their own subtle, but distinct meaning,” you blew out a breath as you tried to figure out what to say. Echo was hanging on to your every word.

“There’s… there isn’t really a direct translation, but the best I can come up with is that the love that we have, ishq, is much deeper than just romantic love. It’s deep and strong and pure and unyielding. It–it reminded me of us,” you admitted, a bit sheepish. Your fingers dance along Echo’s scomp link, nervous.

Echo took a moment to process your explanation before smiling. You felt your heart stitch itself back together again after seeing that beautiful smile. You would do anything to keep it on his lovely face.

“Ishq wala love,” he echoed, his pronunciation a bit off. You giggled in response. “Close enough,” you teased and Echo simply beamed. You leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on his soft lips, rubbing his metal arm gently.

Echo stood up then, offering a hand to you to help you up. You took it and he led you over to the bunk you shared together. You both quickly climbed in, relaxing in the warmth of the well worn blankets and the other’s presence.

Your head was near his chest and you could hear the soothing dull sound of his steady heartbeat. Your arm curled over his waist protectively and your head rested comfortably on his flesh arm. Echo shut off the light and you were ensconced in black velvety darkness.

“Goodnight, cyar’ika.”

“Sweet dreams, Echo. I’ll be here, waiting for you.”

please consider reblogging! it really helps me and is super encouraging ^_^

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part IV

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.6k

Warning: a big helping of abandonment/daddy issues, lots of feelings, explicit sexual content A/N: y’all are gonna be so soft and then so mad lmao. 

The plan was to go to Mike's house then back to campus. You said you didn't have anything to do at your mom's, that a long phone call would suffice, which is why Mike is confused when you ask him if you can stop by before going back. It's an hour out of the way, but it's not like he has anything better to do, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious about your humble beginnings. 

 The house is in a decent-looking neighborhood, small, nearly identical one-story homes surrounded by cracked sidewalks. He has to be careful not to trip as you make your way to the front porch, pots of dead or dying plants along the edges of it. You shove your key into the lock, twist and open, then motion for Mike to follow. 

 The den is dimly lit, ceiling fan above with only one working bulb. A crime show is playing on the TV but there's no one watching. There is, however, another light pouring from a back room, and as soon as you drop your bag on the couch, a head pokes out from the doorway. 

 "Baby girl!" A shrill voice cries, and Mike sees you grimace. "I thought you weren't coming by!" 

 A woman walks into the den wearing long, cotton shorts and an old tie-dye shirt then pulls you into a hug so tight that it makes you cough. 

 "Mom," you take a deep breath as if to refill your lungs with all the air that was pushed from them. "This is Mike."

 He holds out a hand and smiles, but all your mother does is stare with round eyes and blurt, "Oh, he's a big boy." 

 "My fucking god." You don't yell or whine, just pinch the bridge of your nose and mumble, "Just shake his hand please." 

 "Sorry, I'm sorry, just was not expecting… You didn't tell me how tall he was."

 "'Cause it doesn't matter. Why would I—nevermind," you cut yourself off, face falling flat just like your voice. 

 Mike isn't sure if he should be flattered or offended or embarrassed, so he just ignores the comment entirely and says, "Nice to meet you." 

 You make your escape to the back, dragging Mike with you before shutting your bedroom door and leaning against it. 

 "Mom is a little weird, but you'll always know where you stand with her," you tell him. "Also, sorry about the house. She’s a teacher, so she’s usually pretty beat at the end of the day. Not enough energy to do a lotta cleaning."

 "Didn't even notice," he reassures you. 

 Mike unpacks his bag next to you, and you gather the dirty clothes from both yours and his, balling them up and taking them with you out to the garage to throw into the washing machine. Mike should have done it at his parents', but as you were packing up that morning, his mother got all teary eyed and his dad just kept shaking your tiny hands and telling you to come back, so it just didn’t happen. 

 Back in the living room, your mom is sitting in an old rocking chair, and Mike thinks you'll take a seat on the adjacent couch, but instead you ask, "You need help with anything? Dishes or vacuuming or somethin'?"

 She looks up at you, fly-away hairs sticking out around her temples and forehead and responds, "It'd be nice if you could do the dishes. I just haven't gotten around to it."

 "Can do," you nod and walk into the kitchen, opening the dishwasher and making a displeased noise at the dirty plates and bowls inside. There's room for a few more, but once it's full and running, you just clean what's left in the sink by hand. Mike finds a towel, stands next to you, and holds his hand out for every scrubbed dish, drying it and placing it in the rack to hopefully be put up later. 

 "You hungry?" You ask when you're done and drying your hands. "It's almost one."

 "Uh, yeah. I could eat." 

 Truthfully, he's starving having only had a small breakfast at his parents'. He doesn't want to say that, though, doesn't want you making a big meal for him or apologizing for anything. 

 "Sandwiches okay?" 

 Something in your tone has him on edge. Your voice is too quiet, deflecting downward as if you're forcing each word from your mouth. 

 "Yeah," he nods. "If you get the stuff, I can make 'em." Mostly so that you can relax but also because there's no way he's gonna let you make him a fucking sandwich. 

 You shrug your shoulders, grab bread, lunchmeat, cheese, and condiments, then say, "You can make ours. I'll make mom's."

 He knows he's missing something, but he doesn't know what, and right now he's too afraid to ask. 

 He eats next to you on the couch, you and your mom watching TV as Mike tries to subtly glance around. Mounted shelves are decorated with dusty, mismatched figurines, cracks opening at the corners where the walls meet the roof. The brick fireplace is stacked high with plastic tubs and books, probably from your mother’s classroom, and the carpet has seen better days. 

 Mike isn't judging—not in the least—but he has a feeling he knows why being here puts you in a sour mood. The house feels lived in, cluttered and cozy and worn around the edges, but it's still empty somehow. 

 After the three of you are finished eating, you take the paper plates and dispose of them, then tell your mom that you'll be in your room. She gives you a soft smile that you struggle to return.

 It's a little more you in the bedroom, blue walls covered in old posters and collages, a quilt similar to the one in your dorm folded at the bottom of your bed. Your pillow cases are faded and covered in an old flower design that matches your sheets, and there's a small nightstand next to the headboard that's bare on top with wrinkled papers poking out of the bottom drawer. 

 "It's not much, but if you wanna snoop around like I always do, feel free." 

 Mike doesn't really want to, especially since you already seem so uncomfortable in what should be a safe space for you. The only thing he feels okay investigating is the old bookshelf next to your closet—mostly YA novels, some poetry books, an old set of The Lord of the Rings series, a textbook over rocks and minerals and another over volcanoes. Tucked away in the bottom shelf is a tiny booklet that looks like a photo album, and Mike has to fight the urge to pull it from its place and flip through the plastic pages. Anything to get to know you better. 

 You lay in bed, eyes locked on the ceiling, and Mike doesn't know what to do. There's a very small TV sitting on your dresser, an old DVD player next to it, so he figures he'll save both you and himself from talking by picking out a movie. 

 He fingers through them, not that there's a lot, just skims the spines until he pulls out a copy of Space Jam. You only glance at the screen when the intro starts, and Mike immediately zeroes in on the way your jaw sets and your brows furrow. 

 "I can pick something else," he tells you quietly. 

 You take a deep breath and shake your head. Slowly but surely your features begin to soften. 

 "'S'fine."

 "Are you sure?" 

 "Yeah. My, uh…" You swallow loud enough from Mike to hear, neck bobbing with the motion. "My dad and I used to watch it all the time."

 He doesn't know what to make of it or how to respond. In the months he's known you, Mike has never heard you mention your father a single time, and he's never asked in fear of what your response might be. 

 He moves your quilt to sit on the very edge of the bed, a little too tense as he heavily contemplates ignoring what you'd said and still switching movies. 

 "You can lay down, you know," you mumble. "I'm not gonna bite you."

 "You have before," he tries to act casual, but it comes out too stiffly.

 You laugh through your nose— "Suit yourself—" then get more comfortable on the mattress. 

 Michael Jordan gets pulled into a golf hole and the Loony Toons journey to retrieve his shoes from the real world. Mike is barely paying attention, more focused on the way your breathing evens out until it becomes slow and deep. 

 That's good. You could use a nap. 

 He watches you for a while, the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks and your lips part. You're all curled up on yourself, hands tucked under your chin, knees to your stomach, and Mike wants to slip behind you so badly, to pull you to his chest and lay with you until his heartbeat syncs with yours. 

 But first. 

 As carefully as he can, Mike stands from the bed and glides to the bookcase. He lowers himself in front of it, quickly finding what he's looking for and pulls it from the shelf. 

 It's a small little album, full of polaroids and old pictures cut in half. The first page sets the tone for the rest of the booklet, a photo of a very small you outside eating a popsicle next to a man that is most definitely your dad. You've got a similar facial structure as well as his coloring. Not to mention the expression he's wearing is one Mike has seen you make many times before. 

 The next picture is the two of you dressed up for an event. He's in a striped Polo and slacks while you're in a little checkered dress, a rose corsage on your tiny wrist. Some kind of father-daughter dance, Mike guesses. 

 Sitting on his lap at a fair, a chubby little boy a few years older than you standing close with a stuffed snake around his neck. A party where you're posed with an honestly frightening costume character. You in a bright, mesh jersey standing back to back with your dad, arms crossed, looking at the camera with your chins tilted upward. 

 They all look like good memories. The little boy in the fair picture appears several more times, and as he loses his baby fat, Mike sees the resemblance he shares with you and your father. It's too close to be a cousin—your eyes and mouths shaped the same—so he must be your brother. 

 Mike doesn't know how to feel about that because again, you've never uttered a word. As far as he knew, you were an only child, so why…

 He gets lost in the pages, watching you grow and pose mostly next to your dad. Smiles and laughs and silly faces with your tongues sticking out. Your mom is in some, brother in others, and then, you're in a cap and gown, grinning widely next to your dad who's beginning to gray at the temples. His own smile is barely there now, a ghost of what was seen in the previous photos. It's forced, it's sad, and it's the last picture in the book. 

 Mike's chest hurts. He wonders what happened, when exactly you'd lost him. Was it a quick goodbye, or had it been drawn out and painful? Had he been sick for a long time? He'd looked perfectly healthy in all the shots. Maybe a car accident that took both him and your brother…

 He flips to check for one last photo on the back of the page, but it's empty. However, tucked in a tiny, paper pocket is a folded up note that Mike stares at for a few solid minutes, debating the pros and cons of reading it. He knows he's already violated your privacy by looking through the album, and fuck, he's only been in your house for a couple hours at most—how has he already managed to tumble down such a humongous rabbit hole? 

 Your tiny snores reach his ears, and Mike gently pulls the note out, biting his lip as he unfolds it as quietly as possible. It's soft, like it's been read too many times, and the letters scribbled in all caps are beginning to fade, but the words are still legible. 

 It starts with your name, and then it's all apologies—sorry I can't stay, I have to leave, you don't understand how much this hurts me and so on. 

 Mike's eyebrows pull together the further he reads, blood pounding against the walls of his arteries, pulse picking up because he understands now.

 Your father wasn't in any sort of accident; he just left. 

 The letter ends with a gut-wrenching, You'll always be my little girl, and Mike nearly crumples the paper up to throw away. He resists somehow, simply folds it with shaky hands and slips it back into the pocket at the back of the album. 

 He's never been so mad at a stranger in his life. This must be it. This must be why you are—

 "Should've known you'd go straight for the photo album." 

 Your voice makes Mike's body jolt, his face heating as he turns to look at you with wide eyes. 

 "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—"

 You wave him off and prop yourself up on an elbow. "It's whatever."

 But, it's not. It's this huge part of you that still affects you to this day. Mike is no psychologist, but he has a pretty good feeling this is the main reason you hold everyone at arm's length. 

 "Why didn't you ever tell me?" 

 "What's there to tell?" 

 Sitting up fully, your gaze moves to the screen just in time to see Michael Jordan step off of the spaceship and onto the baseball field. I Believe I Can Fly is playing, and you're gritting your teeth. 

 "It's not anything that comes up in normal conversation anyway. I wasn't just gonna hit you with it outta nowhere. Also," you look back to Mike, eyes still sleepy, lips pulling downward in a frown. "I'm not the only one who hid stuff about my family."

 Mike sighs and quietly tells you, "That's different," as he closes the album and slides it back into the row of books. 

 "Is it, though? Is it really?" 

 "I..." 

 Mike shuts his mouth and actually thinks on it. He wasn't trying to lie to you about his home life or his heritage. He's only half Greek on his mom's side, after all, and he's only been to the country to visit family a couple of times—once when he was a child and once right before college. The culture is a little different over there, but it all seems so natural to him, especially after being raised to speak the language. 

 Honestly, he didn't ever tell you because he didn't think to, but Mike can understand the shock of walking into his childhood home and getting thrown through that loop. It must have been jarring for you. 

 It's a positive aspect of his life, though. It's not something that's damaged him or made him cold toward others. And, he hates describing you in such a way, but it's true.

 At least it makes sense now. 

 "I guess not," he shrugs. He's not about to fight you on it. 

 You stare at him for a while, waking up a bit more as you rub your eyes and stretch. 

 Then, you flop back down on your pillows. 

 "So. Any questions, Zacharias?" 

 He's surprised that you're asking, and though he doesn't want to twist the metaphorical knife in your gut, he still replies honestly: "Too many."

 A long exhale through your nose, and then you're patting the mattress next to you and grumbling, "Fine, I'll do my best, but you gotta come up here."

 "Why? You gonna need to cuddle afterward?" He can't help but tease. 

 "Fuckin' maybe, dude! We're about to get into my god damn trauma so—"

 Mike is up on his feet and flying toward the bed. He isn't about to sabotage the one fucking moment you're opening yourself up. 

 "Alright, what first?" You ask, trying to look bored, but Mike can clearly see that you're nervous. 

 "He left." 

 "Yeah."

 And then he gets the full story. 

 Your dad was pretty perfect during your younger years—a bit of a workaholic but still good. He took you to dances like the one you'd both dressed for in the photograph. You'd spend days at amusement parks where he'd carry you on his shoulders. He coached the basketball team you'd played on as a child.

 "Not saying he played favorites, but I was definitely closer to him than my brother was."

 The brother who developed a drug problem at fourteen, who was always either out with his little addict friends or at home where he would just scream at you and your mom. 

 "He went to rehab a couple times, but it didn't stick." 

 He left home at seventeen and hasn't gotten in touch with you or your parents since. 

 "I keep thinking one day we'll get a call from the police saying they found his wallet on a fucking corpse, but who knows. Maybe he got clean. Maybe he started a family somewhere else. He'd be twenty-five now."

 "Were you ever close with him?"

 You shrug. "We spent a lot of time together when we were really little, but even back then he was kinda a mean kid."

 It very quickly circles back to your father. Mike still doesn't feel like he has all the answers, so he asks through the skin of his lip, "Why'd he leave?"

 At this point, you've got your head in his lap as he sits against the wall. He smooths your hair back from your face every once in a while, something his mom used to do to him when he was very young that always soothed him. 

 He hopes it's having the same effect on you, thinks it might be considering you've had your eyes closed for a while now, humming now and then as you talk. 

 "Honestly, I don't really know. I don't think he and my mom were ever in love. Like, they just kinda settled for each other," you sigh. "They didn't have a lot in common. They had different upbringings. But, they didn't fight or anything—not in front of us. They were good at hiding the hard times from me and my brother. They just didn't… click."

 Mike bites his tongue, wonders if that was hard to watch or if you'd been too naive to notice. 

 Then, there's his second train of thought that's really just the voice in his head screaming, we click, though! You and I work! But he keeps it to himself. This isn't about you and him. 

 "I think maybe dad had, like, a 'stay together for the kids' mentality 'cause as soon as I graduated, he was fuckin' gone. And, I mean gone. We went to a graduation party the next weekend that lasted a few hours—just me and mom—and when we got back his truck wasn't in the driveway and his drawers were empty. He left that note you read on my desk."

 Mike breathes. Just breathes. He tries to make sense of it, how someone could just do that without a real reason. There hadn't been any explanation in the letter, only apologies. 

 "Have you seen him since?" 

 You open your eyes and reply, "Nope," popping the 'p'. "I don't know where he is, and he hasn't reached out. Mom made the drive to my grandma's—his mom—but she said she didn't know where he was either. Pretty sure she was covering for him, though. She was always kind of a bitch. You know, save for the whole paying for my college and all."

 Mike snorts at this, not that there's anything funny about the situation. It's just his first reaction. 

 You ignore it, moving on with an, "Anyway."

 "Anyway," he mimics. 

 "I don't know if you've noticed in the short time you've been here, but my mom is a little… off. Not super good at taking care of herself."

 "Is this why?" 

 "Clever boy," you show a bitter smile. "I didn't really understand since they weren't, like, in love or whatever, but… I think it was the betrayal more than anything. Like, it came outta nowhere, a big ol' slap in the face."

 "Plus, he left you behind," Mike adds, as if you don't already know. 

 Looking up at him, you raise your eyebrows and smirk. "And, now you know about my abandonment issues." The last part comes out in high-pitched, melodic syllables, a little song that would be funny if Mike didn't know it was a coping mechanism. It most definitely is, though. He can tell that you're the type to mask every issue with humor and sarcasm. It's how you've been dealing with him for the last several months. 

 "So, that's my story," you conclude on an exhale. "Now you know all my dirty secrets."

 "For some reason I don't think that's all of them," Mike pets your hair again. "But, probably the important ones."

 "Mm. I guess."

 The rest of the day is really just spent killing time. You cook an easy dinner that you refuse to let Mike help with, then sit in the den with your mom just like you did at lunch. A medical show is playing. Then a reality show. Then a game show. None of you say much of anything, and it's painfully awkward for Mike now that he knows what happened, but he can power through a few days of this if it makes you feel better. 

 Hours pass until you can retreat, and moonlight shines through your bedroom window, not that Mike needs it. He's memorized your body at this point, knows where to touch without even seeing. He makes sure to be gentle, to suckle and blow on your pebbled nipples as you card fingers through his hair and breathe faster and faster. 

 Leaving love bites down your chest and stomach, he sucks on your skin, gently grazing his teeth over every bruise. Mike wants you to see them all the next day—not a staked claim, just something you can't ignore when you look in the mirror, evidence of his feelings in every mark. 

 When you're finally nice and relaxed, he spreads your legs and licks into you, trying not to be too rough with his beard, but a few swipes of it over your clit leave you shaking in his grasp. You whisper his name, the common one that everyone knows him by, but then, rolling off your tongue like a prayer, you call him, "Miche," and he can't help the rumble that rises in his chest. 

 It should be strange. That's the name only his family uses, the one he was born with. He only simplified it so that kids in school wouldn't ask questions or make fun of him, and after that, it just sort of stuck. But, here and now, falling from your lips, it's so soft. So intimate. 

 You whimper when he sucks on your folds, making them swell, making them sensitive. And then, he's pushing his tongue inside of you and humming happily at the taste. His nose is bumping against your clit, and Christ, you even smell good to him—that ripe, tangy aroma that has Mike going a little crazy. He has to make sure he doesn't get too carried away. You can't make very much noise even with the rattling of the air conditioner, but as he slowly slides a finger into your pussy, he hears you moan around the fist you're holding to your mouth. 

 He stretches you just enough to get you ready, then he holds himself over you and pushes into your wet cunt. Your eyes are open, locked with Mike's as your brow raises and your jaw drops. It's erotic, something you've never done with him before. You typically either gaze somewhere other than his face or keep your eyes squeezed shut. 

 Tonight, though, you've been vulnerable and apparently want to stay that way for a little while longer. 

 He bends to catch you in a kiss, lips and tongues moving just as slowly as his hips, and when you reach to tug at Mike's hair, he pants into your mouth. 

 Those words are there again, stuck in his throat but slowly crawling upward until they're just there, pouring from his tongue, "I lo—"

 Until you cut him off with a sharp, "Don't."

 He makes a noise of frustration, wants to protest because he's so deep inside of you, and you're holding onto him like you want him—truly want him, but you mutter once more against his lips, "Don't say it, Miche."

 So, he doesn't. He bottles the confession up and keeps it locked away, hoping like hell that one day you'll let him tell you. 

 After you climax and coat his cock in slick and cream, he gives a few more thrusts and comes inside of you, filling you with himself and wondering why you're so willing to accept him in that way but not in any other. 

 He's hurting again, like he did at his parents' as you walked around like you belonged there. Except it's worse now. 

 If you don't want him to say it, that means you don't want to say it back. 

 He stays with you for a few more minutes before pulling out. You leave to clean up, and while you're gone, Mike sits on the edge of the bed, head in his hands as he tries to get it all out of his system, whispering it out loud to himself: 

 I love you. I love you, I love you.  

 You still let him hold you as you fall asleep, gripping his hand until you can't anymore, and as Mike drifts off behind you, he has one last thought—Just let me.

* There’s only three weeks left of the semester when you head back to campus, and you intend to make the most of every passing day. 

 You pay better attention in class. You study harder in the library to prepare for final exams. You go to a few more Pi Alpha Kappa parties, making sure not to burn yourself out. And, you let Mike fuck your brains out every few days. Sometimes it’s late at night after those parties. Sometimes you're too tired after the nights of drinking and end up just going to bed only to wake up in the morning and have slow, sleepy sex. Sometimes it’s in the middle of the afternoon when you both have breaks between classes.

 Neither of you bring up anything that happened over the break—meeting families, details about your childhoods, how much you learned about one another in general.

 Most importantly, neither of you address that first night at your mom’s, the way Mike had basically worshiped your body, how he’d come so close to uttering the three words you least want to hear. 

 Thinking about it still makes your chest tighten, your heart beat faster. Sometimes when you’re sharing his bed with him, back pressed to his chest, large arm slung over your waist, you think about why it is you’re so vehemently against it. The two of you already act like a couple most of the time. You walk with each other to class when you can. You stick to each other’s sides at parties. You fuck like rabbits and don’t care who knows about it. 

 And, though you’re hesitant to admit it even to yourself, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings for him. Mike is your best friend at this point. He’s insanely hot. He’s goofy. He’s kind. Yeah, the frat boy persona he puts on around his friends is annoying, but you understand it a little better now. Plus, he always takes off the mask when he’s alone with you, giving both you and himself a break from it.

 You know your time with him is quickly coming to an end—for about two months, at least—and whenever you think too hard about it, it makes you pout and huff. You’re not looking forward to your summer classes without him, but he promises on several occasions that you can call him while he’s at his parents’ if you ever need help with the material.

 It’s impressive, the way he’s able to act like nothing happened. You know it must be troubling him, but it’s not like you can do anything to soothe him. If he was really upset with you, he would have stopped spending time with you, but he hasn’t. He just bottles it up, keeps smiling at you all crookedly, and keeps satisfying you in the bedroom (more than satisfying honestly. There’s really not a word to describe what he does).

 He’s back to getting along with everyone in the Pike house, everyone being Erwin. It’s a relief just because you don’t have to put up with the tension between them, but it’s also awkward. And, a little frightening. 

 The brothers have Smash Brothers tournaments and movie nights, a few date parties here and there, and it never fails that at some point during the evenings, you find your neck prickling as it always does when you feel someone staring at you. You always hope it’s Mike. Fuck, you wish it was him. But, when you glance up and around, it’s Erwin. Every time. His deep blue eyes are trained on you, the corner of his mouth twitching upward on one side. It doesn’t matter if he’s alone or if he’s got Maddie or some other girl sitting in his lap. He's fucking shameless, and it makes your stomach hurt.

 You keep your mouth shut for the sake of the friendship but also for the sake of Erwin’s pretty face. If he and Mike ever got into an actual fight, Erwin would probably be able to get a good few punches in, but you’re nearly positive Mike would end up destroying him in the long run. That could get him kicked out of school. That could get him thrown in jail. 

 Finals roll around, and you manage to pass all of them without issue, even getting grades above the class average. You feel fantastic, like your long term goals might actually be attainable. You have a long road ahead of you, but your GPA at the end of the year is more than enough to raise your confidence. 

 Mike asks you to come back to his house for the couple weeks between the end of the semester and the start of your summer courses, but you turn him down, too scared of what might happen while you’re there. Acting like a couple in front of his parents will only exacerbate his feelings as well as yours, and you’d like to avoid that as best you can. 

 Even now as you’re standing outside by the Jeep, he tries to persuade you one last time, almost pleading, “Are you sure you don’t wanna come?”

 “Miche, I’m sure,” you tell him, trying to stay stern, but it’s hard when his sea glass eyes light up at the sound of his real name. It’s a habit you’ve gotten into, a bad one considering how much he likes it. How much you like it. “I already told you I wanna spend the free time I have at mom’s. I need to check up on her and… Probably clean, honestly.”

 He lets out a little grunt of disappointment, then nods. “Yeah, I get it.”

 “You saw what she’s like,” you remind him. “Someone needs to drop in every once in a while to make sure she isn’t, like, wasting away or something.”

 “Makes sense. I’ll be bummed, though.”

 “Be bummed all you want,” you smile. “I’ll probably still bother you over break. A lot.”

 He sounds terribly sincere when he mumbles, “You never bother me.” It makes your stomach flip in the way you do not enjoy.

 Mike sighs, taking in one of those deep breaths that makes his broad chest rise then fall, calling attention to it and making you bite your bottom lip. 

 “Alright, I should get going,” he concedes, bending down to kiss you too deeply for simple friends with benefits. It doesn’t stop you from humming into his mouth and smiling against him. You hold him by the back of his neck as he pulls your body close to his, his voice muffled when he tells you mischievously, “Don’t forget to send pictures.”

 It makes you laugh, and you lean back to swipe your tongue over his lips so that he groans and chases after you. 

 “I promise I will. Perv.” The beating sun is nothing in comparison to the way your body heats at the thought. You’ve sent him nudes before, but the idea of him looking at them from hours away, fisting his cock as he admires your body through his phone… It makes seeing him off even harder.

 After a couple more softer kisses, Mike swings into the Wrangler and pulls out of the lot. You stand in his parking space and watch him until he’s out of sight, then walk back to your dorm, dragging your feet the whole way. 

 You only stay at your mom’s house for a week, and just like you predicted, you spend most of it cleaning. She thanks you the whole time but makes excuses in between. You just reassure her that you don’t mind even though you do. She really should see a therapist and sort out the depression she’s been stuck in for a few years now, but telling someone they need professional help is easier said than done. 

 Sleeping in your old bed is much harder this time around. You're all too aware of the weight that isn't behind you, and most nights you lay awake for at least a couple of hours trying to imagine it. 

 Like you’d promised, you send him a few pictures, some of them just lewd selfies with your tits pouring out of the cups of your bra, but others are of your naked body in the bathtub, sometimes a shot of you with your hand between your legs. It feels wrong to touch yourself in your childhood home, but it’s necessary, especially when Mike sends you a few pictures of his own—one with his torso on display, defined abs absolutely mouthwatering and the V of his hips suggestively leading into mesh shorts. Another is of him in the gray joggers he wears all the time, the ones that always show off his cock. 

 He’s so fucking hot it atually hurts, makes your pussy throb as you crave his touch. It’s an awful feeling honestly, but even worse than that is the way you miss him. You aren’t supposed to miss him. You’re just supposed to be friends who have sex. Nothing more than that.

 It's why you’re glad to go back to school. Your classes will distract you, keep you from thinking about him too much. The semester is shorter during the summer, so you have to work even harder than you do during fall and spring. You don’t really think it’ll be a problem since you’re trying to cram your brain full of anything other than Mike which is great motivation for studying. 

 Nothing is gonna get you off track, you tell yourself. Nothing will interfere with your studies. That’s the plan.

 Then, you meet Zeke Jaeger. 

* You're studying in the library. It seems like you spend most of your time here, nice and quiet and empty. The campus isn't nearly as busy in the summer as it is during the rest of the school year. No parties, no sporting events, just you alone with your books. 

 It's nice. Most of the time. A little boring but mostly nice. 

 Your eyes are getting tired, and when you check your phone, you realize why. It's almost eleven PM, meaning you've been studying for about six hours. You've had longer nights, usually spent on the phone getting quizzed on the information you're learning with a few breaks in between, but that wasn't the case tonight as Mike had to spend the day with family from out of town. 

 It's okay. You're supposed to be distancing yourself anyway. 

 Taking a deep breath, you pack up your books and slide your laptop into your bag, then stand and swing it over your shoulder. 

 The strap is too long. The bag swings too hard, and your heart sinks when you hear a little grunt followed by a, "Agh, hot!" 

 Turning with wide eyes, you immediately start apologizing, "I'm so sorry, oh my god, fuck, I'm so sorry!"

 A head of light blond hair looks up from the brown stain on his white t-shirt, icy blue eyes narrowed behind wire-rimmed glasses, but when he sees the mortification on your face, his own expression softens, and he chuckles. 

 "It's fine. You can calm down."

 You're still breathing heavily, guilt making your hands shake, but he really doesn't look angry. In fact, he's grinning now, eyebrows raised like he's amused. 

 The longer you stare at him, the more familiar he looks. You're pretty sure you've seen him before. Many times before, actually, and then it clicks that this guy is on the front page of the school website. You see him every fucking time you log in, looking much more stern than he does now. Baseball hat and jersey, mitt on one hand as he hides his other in it, and yeah, you know him. 

 "You're Zeke Jaeger."

 He makes a face, scrunching his nose up and squinting. "Yeeeeah, I guess I am."

 Best pitcher in the college league despite being a sophomore like you. He's beaten the records of some major league players. 

 You don't give a fuck about baseball, have never even been to any of the school's games, but you've been hearing about Zeke since the last season. You've learned to tune it out because, again, no shits given (and also you're much more partial to lacrosse now), but he's hard to ignore when he's staring you right in the face. 

 "Well, uh," you try to act casual. It's something you're pretty good at these days. "Cool."

 He snorts, picking his shirt off his chest to air it out like it'll help, then says, "I don't know your name, though."

 You run your tongue over your teeth, wondering why he cares, then introduce yourself. 

 "Oh, you're Zacharias' little girlfriend, aren't you?"

 Your stomach flips at the mention of him. 

 "We're not dating."

 Zeke cocks his head to the side. "No?"

 "No. Just friends."

 He hums but doesn't say anything, and your eyes are once again drawn to his chest as he fans over the stain. 

 "Okay, let me get you a new shirt or something," you try. 

 He laughs again. "I highly doubt you've got a men's shirt tucked in that bag of yours, sweetheart."

 "I—" you pout for a second, mumble, "Okay, yeah, fair point."

 "Another coffee, though," he muses out loud. "Wouldn't be the worst thing."

 You shoot him a finger gun and smack your lips. "On it. Where do you get coffee at eleven o'clock?"

 "I'll walk with you," he states more than offers. 

 Then, you're both leaving the library, leaving campus, and going to a little 24 hour cafe where you blow on lattes and cover the basics about each other—philosophy major, valedictorian of his high school class, playing baseball since age seven, etc. You should sleep. You should get ready for another long day of studying.  

 But it's hard to make good decisions when Zeke Jaeger is smirking at you from across the table like you're the most interesting thing he's ever seen. 

* Zeke gets your number that night. You're not exactly sure how, but he does. 

 Then he doesn’t text you for three days. It doesn’t bother you that much. You figure he has other things to focus on. He’s on campus to take a couple courses and practice for the upcoming season, so he’s probably just busy. If that night had just been a one-off, it’s fine with you. It was cool to talk to him, but your heart isn’t broken.

 These are all the thoughts and justifications running through your head when you’re in class on Tuesday and your phone lights up during the PowerPoint lecture. You glance down, expecting Mike or Hitch, but it’s an unknown number instead. Eyes flicking from the projection screen to your much tinier one, you slide to open the message and chew on your lip. 

 Hey, it’s Zeke. You have classes this afternoon?

 You do not. And, you are too quick to tell him that.

 He takes you to a little Mom and Pop restaurant, too far to walk so you end up riding in the black Bronco he drives, trying to convince yourself that it definitely does not make him any more attractive to you. Because you aren’t attracted to him in the first place. Right?

 You sit at a table for two eating paninis and fruit. Zeke asks how classes are going, you ask about practice, and as you talk, he gets that look in his eyes again, like you amuse him or interest him or something.

 It confuses you, and for a moment, you’re taken back to last fall at that first Pi Kappa Alpha party, the one you met Mike at when he tried to get you to shotgun a beer. God, he had been so obnoxious back then, always following you around and flirting and—

 “You listening, sweetheart?”

 Your eyes refocus on the man in front of you, his raised eyebrows and little smirk. “Looks like you’re a million miles away. Sorry if I’m boring you.”

 “No, no,” you try to defend. “I just zoned out for a second. Realized I, uh, got an answer wrong on the quiz I took today.”

 “That sucks,” he hums. “Anyway, I can stop talking about baseball.”

 “It’s okay. Just go over the last, like, ten seconds,” you say with a laugh, hoping your cheeks will stop burning sooner rather than later.

 Zeke chuckles and does just that, doesn’t seem irritated or put out. He tells you about how he has a new trainer this year to warm him up and make sure his throwing arm is in top shape. “I hope he’s as good as my last. Colt was always on it, knew exactly how hot to make the warm compresses and how cold to make the ice packs. Stuff like that. He learned my needs.”

 You both laugh, and if it was anyone else, you’d have an innuendo sliding off your tongue, but for some reason, you don’t think Zeke would want to hear it, like he’d be unimpressed with your vulgar humor. 

 Back at the college, he drives you to your dorm, explaining that he lives in the apartments on the other side of campus and wouldn’t want to make you walk that far. Then, as you slide out of the Bronco, he stops you with a smooth, “Hey,” that makes you look over your shoulder at him. “Make sure you save my number in your phone, okay? I’ll text you soon.”

 The way your stomach flips is worrisome, a feeling you’re only used to when you’re with…

 “Yeah, okay.”

 He grins widely and nods, then waits for you to get a good distance away from the car before driving off.

 No distractions, you’d said. It’ll be good for your focus, you’d said. 

 What a fucking joke. 

*

Mike has to help you with some homework that weekend. You can hear his smile through the phone, snort when he makes his little nerd jokes, then sigh when he gets to the actual subject and explains it to you without a problem. His brain is incredible, and when you think about it too hard, it makes you warm inside. 

 “You’re so fucking smart. Why don’t you let people know?”

 “Maybe I just want you to know,” he chuckles. “You think I wanna spend my days tutoring every idiot who needs help?”

 “Miche, did you just call me an idiot?”

 You hear another breathy laugh followed by a sigh. “I have many, many names for you, but ‘idiot’ isn’t one of them.”

 “Oh yeah?” You play. “And, what might those other names be?”

 He lists a few, all of them making your face flush and your body tingle, and before you know it, you’ve got your pants off and your fingers between your legs. You can hear Mike’s heavy breathing on the other end, the wet sound of his hand stroking his lubricated cock, and when you reach your climax, you moan out your usual, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, Miche.” 

 He tumbles down right behind you, panting and telling you in a voice of disbelief, “Jesus, it just keeps coming.” It makes the pulses of your orgasm even stronger, remembrance of all the times he’s painted you in white, and God, you are so ready for him to get back to the school.

 Then, there’s the voice in the back of your head that makes you think maybe it’s better that he’s gone for now, that he might not be too pleased that you’re spending time with another guy. But, it’s not like things with Zeke are going anywhere. You wouldn’t even call him a friend. You text on and off, have brunch or lunch or coffee depending on the time of day. 

 And, yeah, he calls you pet names, tells you that you look nice even when you’re just in leggings and a t-shirt, talks about his family and…

 Okay, it could potentially lead to something more, but it’s only been a week, and considering his golden boy status, he could have anyone he wants, so why would he even be interested in you in any way, shape, or form?

 Naturally, your thoughts circle back to Mike and the way he could have any girl on his arm, but he still chooses to spend time with you. To fuck you. To nearly confess his feelings to you. You have to wonder if you’re emitting some kind of scent or beacon, if there’s a sign hanging above your head with an arrow pointing down. Sports gods, come get a piece. 

 If only you’d never gone to that party. If you had just kept your head down like you had freshman year. Your life would be so much easier now.

 But now you’re in Zeke’s apartment listening to him rant about some philosopher you’ve never even heard of. He’s gesturing with his hands, flipping curling, blond bangs from his face, and whenever he pauses to think, he scratches his beard. He’s very fond of the white t-shirts and jeans get-up, sometimes switches it up and wears a button down under a sweater vest. Both looks are becoming of him no matter how much you try to deny it, but when he drops down onto the couch next to you and peers into your god damn soul with those piercing, blue eyes, you have to choke back a dreamy sigh.

 What is happening to you?

 “So, what do you think about it?” He asks, looking hopeful that you might have some insight on this matter.

 But, you simply laugh and shake your head. “Zeke,” you start. “I’m gonna be real honest with you here. I didn’t understand a fucking thing you just said.”

 You assume he’ll be disappointed, maybe tire of you since you can’t be as intellectually stimulating as he’d like you to, but Zeke exhales in a lighthearted sort of way, shows one of those amused smiles, and tells you, “You’re cute.”

 Anyone else and you would have snapped back, something along the lines of, don’t fucking patronize me, but with Zeke, all you can do is stare at him and let your lips part, silently asking for something you won’t speak out loud.

 His gaze moves to your mouth for a split second. That soft smile turns into one of his famous smirks. Then, he’s back on his feet and asking, “You wanna go to dinner?”

 You are more than relieved at the shift in atmosphere, but your heart is still beating too hard as you follow him downstairs and to his car. 

* Summer is passing quickly. Too quickly. The eleven week classes are kicking your ass, or are close to kicking your ass. Lucky for you, you have your own private tutor just a call or text away. Mike helps you, and you laugh and goof around, shoot off innuendo after innuendo, but the phone sex slows to a halt eventually. You tell him that you’re tired, and you are. It isn’t a lie. But, it also isn’t the full truth.

 Between classes when you could be resting, you’re eating out with Zeke. Or, watching him and the rest of the baseball team practice for the upcoming season. Or, sitting in his apartment, watching movies and chatting about all manner of things. Nothing important, of course—there’s no diving deep into your life story like you had done with Mike over Spring Break, but Zeke still learns the little things about you. Why you’re majoring in geosciences and how you became good friends with some of the Pike guys. You don’t give him the full details on that one—that you got blackout drunk and fucked Mike and just couldn’t stop. You don’t think Zeke would be interested in hearing about it anyway.

 You learn a bit about his dad and stepmom, the latter of whom he isn’t very fond of. He also has a little brother who’ll be attending the college starting this fall, and he’s interested in the Greek life. Naturally, you build PKA up. Even if there are some… Problematic people in the house, there are also a lot of really good guys. 

 “I’ll make sure to pass it along to him,” Zeke tells you one evening as you’re both sprawled on the couch, backs against the armrests as you face each other. It’s how he seems to prefer to sit when the TV isn’t on. When you asked him why, he had told you, “Just like looking at you,” and you didn’t know how to respond. You still don’t know how to respond.

 “Eren thinkin’ about joining any sports?” You ask now. “Does baseball run in the family or anything?”

 Zeke snorts. “Kid couldn’t hit a baseball even if it was on one of the t-ball stands.”

 “I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then.”

 “I would say he’s more academically inclined, but,” Zeke sighs. “That would be a lie.”

 You can never tell if he actually likes his brother. Most of the time he complains about him, but every once in a while he’ll bring up something cute Eren did as a little boy, and you see a fond glimmer in his light eyes. 

 “Anyway,” Zeke waves off the subject and transitions to a new one—one that makes your stomach drop. “Are you gonna tell Zacharias about us?”

 You choke on your own spit, leaning forward to cough a couple times, then challenge him with a nervous laugh, “I wasn’t aware there was anything to tell him.”

 Zeke tilts his head, mouth pulling up as he raises his eyebrows. “Come on,” he chuckles.

 “Come on, what?” You frown. If you were with Mike, you both would have died at that. Come on my face, you can hear him say, and you have to fight a smile because there’s absolutely no way you could explain that to the man in front of you.

 “You don’t have to play coy, sweetheart. We both know there’s something going on between us.” He says it with such confidence that even if he wasn’t right you wouldn’t be able to argue with him. The assumption should annoy you, should make you scoff and leave, but instead you sit there staring, caught up in his gaze and cocky grin.

 “I—”

 “It’s okay, you know. Not like you’re alone in this.”

 Those questions swim through your mind again, all the insecurities that you’ve been sorting through with Mike, but now that voice is louder because that sense of trust hasn’t formed yet. You’ve only connected with Zeke over meals and movies. It sounds domestic, but despite your apparently obvious attraction to him, you still don’t feel like you really know him. 

 But, he draws you in, like a moth to a flame. You can’t help it. There’s just something about him that makes you want him to like you, like you want to impress him, like you want to be good for him. You’ve been trying to ignore those thoughts, but they’re much harder to fight now that you’re sitting in front of him, taking in his wavy hair and pale blue eyes, that ever present smirk on his face, the curve of his neck that disappears into his shirt.

 He could just want sex. He could just want a fling. Wait for everyone to get back on campus and drop you for another girl. You tell yourself you wouldn’t care; you’re good at keeping things casual.

 Wouldn’t it be fun to be his arm candy for a while, though? Let people look at you and whisper louder than they did when they’d see you and Mike together? You don’t care about status, about being in the spotlight. It’s more for the experience, dating someone who could teach you things.

 Mike teaches you things, that voice pops up again. He’s been helping you with your work for almost a year now. You can’t just overlook that. 

 “What, are you weighing the pros and cons over there or something?”

 You snort. “Maybe. We still don’t really know each other all that well, Zeke.”

 “Might I remind you that we’ve been hanging out all summer? Did you honestly think it wouldn’t lead to anything more?”

 “Honestly,” you mimic, “I never thought you’d be interested.”

 “Why wouldn’t I be?” His brow furrows like he’s genuinely confused. “You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re cute.” 

 God, you can’t even count how many times he’s called you ‘cute’, how many times it’s made you blush over the last several weeks, just like it does now.

 Then, he pushes, “Do you not find me at—”

 “Of course I do,” you cut him off. “I don’t know who doesn’t, which is exactly why I don’t know where this is coming from.”

 Zeke sighs like he’s annoyed, then turns the hand on his thigh palm up and beckons you with two fingers. “Come here.”

 “What?”

 “Come here.”

 Your blood pressure spikes, breaths coming in little puffs that have no way of getting to your brain. It’s probably why you obey, rolling to your knees and clumsily crawling over to him. You stop short, right between his bent knees, but Zeke sits up, straightens his legs, and pulls you into his lap.

 More of that precious air leaves your lungs as you exhale too sharply, staring at him with huge eyes. You don’t know what’s happening, can’t believe it’s happening. It doesn’t feel real even as you rest your hands on his shoulders, even when he holds your hips and pulls you so that your full weight is on him, but fuck, you can’t say anything. You can’t make a sound. All you can do is wait for him to make his next move.

 “Why do you look scared?” His voice is just above a whisper, but at this proximity you can hear him without a problem. 

 “I don’t have a lot of experience sitting in men’s laps,” you manage, trying to keep your usual careless tone, but you doubt it works.

 “For some reason I don’t believe that.”

 You rear back, actually offended. “Excuse m—”

 That ire, however, melts away as quickly as it arose. Zeke slides fingers up your waist, all the way to the back of your neck to bring your face to his—your lips to his. 

 He feels different, not at all what you’re used to. His kiss is more demanding, hungry, and God, you still can’t breathe, can’t think straight because his tongue is moving past your lips, and you’re letting it, letting him taste you as your fingertips dig into the flesh of his shoulders. You lift yourself from him just a little only for Zeke to pull you back down with the hand still gripping your hip. He makes sure you feel him when he grinds up into you, the zipper of his jeans rubbing you through your little shorts so that you gasp into his mouth. 

 You both stay like that for what feels like a fucking eternity, biting and sucking on lips, stroking over each others’ tongues until you absolutely have to break apart. You’re panting now, body still tense on top of his, and Zeke stares at you with half-lidded eyes and shows the ghost of a smile.

 “Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

 The statement sets you on fire, so much so that all you can do is whimper quietly and lean in for more. 

  And, as you get lost in Zeke Jaeger, you decide for yourself.

I need to tell Mike

[ next ]

[darthmaulification]

the good god is you, all good, all the time, is you | paz x reader

A/N: just something short and simple and kind with paz, because i want to kiss him all over (because i’m his riduur, of course) and is there anything wrong with that?

even though it’s a relatively universal phrase, the title is a line from god is good all the time by porsha olayiwola. i also kinda had the vibe of that poem in mind as i wrote this too. 💕

hope you enjoy! 💗

summary: love-making, pretty much.

content: fluff, domestic love and stuff, fem!afab!reader, smut-ish?, because there is cockwarming on the back burner lol, and they kinda seggs at the end?, body worship, paz is a heartsick dork, and plays with your booba, and you play with his

word count: 1,427

It’s in the dewy moments after, when everything feels the way a sunset on Naboo looks, when there’s nothing in the galaxy that can touch either of you. Paz holds you tight with his burly arms, helmetless, and everywhere else exposed too, slick with the sweat that coats the both of you, and keeps you slippery and bare against one another, like fishes in the big blue sea.

There’s no need to open your eyes, not right now. The heaviness that’s settled over you keeps your eyelids shut, and the wetness on your lashes does too. So you focus on Paz, who’s silent and basking in the afterglow the same as you, and focus just enough to listen to the steady, echoing thumps of his heart, and his long, rhythmic breathing. In, out. In, out...

You revel in the expanse of his body beneath you, his broad shoulders, his hard pecs, the light brushing of hair on them, his soft tummy you love— all strength, all the time— and sigh into the soft dip behind his collarbone. Make no mistake, you revel in that too, and the warmth of it all.

Another soft sigh passes your lips when Paz shifts beneath you, his legs further entwining with yours, all to pull you in and keep your hips flush to his, and him within you. He’s not a hard, hot rod anymore, finally spent after three rounds, but the girth of him is familiar, kept locked within you, the puzzle piece meant to be. The feeling of the connection, almost divine in it’s interlocking, is like an oasis in a vast desert, all relief and sanctuary. 

Paz grunts softly, moving again, and you smile when you feel him both shift inside you and plant kisses on your scalp. His lips are warm and soft as they follow your hairline, each one everything good. You feel the tender brush of the tip of his nose too, and catch a warm inhale or exhale in your hair, like a gentle breeze in summer.

“You asleep, mesh’la?” Paz’s voice is low, resonant in his chest and throat like the echo of a distant waterfall. The hands he has on your body, heavy and calloused weights, start to glide up and down your spine. You make a small noise of denial, digging your face into his chest, kissing him softly as you do. Paz shudders, his chest trembling beneath you, and so you kiss him more, with more determination too. Take this Paz, it is yours.

A few seconds pass, and you finally bring yourself to open your eyes, blinking at the quiet brightness of the room and exhaustion, but finding so much awareness with the man under you. Your eyes lock to your hand, taking in the beskar ring on your finger, and Paz’s pec beneath it. The crests of his deep brown skin are bronzed by the dim orange lights of the bedroom, and the dips are the darkest parts of him. Your eyes flit to his nipple that’s below your fingers, and you smile mischievously against his chest.

“Hey.” Paz jerks slightly when you pinch it, and lifts one hand to plant firm on your ass and squeeze hard in retaliation. You jerk in turn, the laugh in your throat briefly caught by the pleasantness of Paz moving in you, and you turn your head to look up at him, eyes twinkling.

Paz has just the most mellow, lovestruck look on his face and in his nut brown eyes, all his features softened by the endorphins from sex and love. In this light, all starry-eyed, all satisfaction and boyishness under an amber hue, he looks especially rich, like the opulence of gold and the taste of good, thick caf. He is gorgeous.

“What?” You croak playfully, voice a bit raw and still a little husky, craning your neck to kiss his chin, his thick beard prickly against your lips. Paz chuckles deep in his throat, one hand gliding the length of your spine. He dips his head so that he’s able to press his lips to yours, tender and brief, easy too. Everything is just so easy with Paz, all the time.

“I like your boobies.” You murmur when you part, grinning when he laughs, a quick bark that’s louder since you’re so close to his face. Paz’s hands slide up your ribs until they cup your breasts from the sides. He squeezes gently and you laugh, slapping him on his shoulder, and his sweaty skin is slightly tacky, like a honey glaze.

“Don't tweak my nipple, pretty girl.” He says in that toothless authoritative tone he puts on with you when he won’t really put up a fight. You giggle, the tip of your nose rubbing against his, and you kiss his smiling lips again. He hums, low in his chest, a purr of a humble lion.

"You like it, though." You tease, squealing when Paz swats your ass, and giggling profusely as you kiss his cheek. Pulling away, eyes soft like his, you place your lips to his for a slow, languid kiss. Paz moans into your mouth, allowing you to drink from him all his love. When you pull away you breathe him, and he breathes you, and the moment becomes warmer.

“I think yours are better.” He rumbles, bouncing them in his palms, thumbing your pliant nipples to roll them until they become stiff peaks again. You keep giggling profusely, even as you wriggle in his grasp to arch up just enough to plant kisses over and over again atop the skin and muscle above his heart, beating as strong as the beskar he wears.

“Mesh’la.” Paz speaks, breathless and maybe desperate too, but you keep kissing, because he is yours, you are his, and you love him. He groans quietly, hips shifting and you break your trail across his chest to sigh as you feel him sink deeper, a heavy anchor nestled tenderly inside you. Paz still has his hands on your chest, and he kneads your breasts, slowly rolls them in his large palms the way he does to get your body warm and quivering.

“Paz... honey...” You whine, feeling how he swells inside you, like filling a pitcher with water, or how the temperature grows as the sun rises. Your body is glossy and glistens with sweat, beads of it line your hairline, and as Paz moves again, sitting up and pulling you in to the furnace of his body, you gasp at the heat of it all.

“One more time, baby girl, just one more time.” Paz’s lips fervently move on your neck, sucking marks atop fading ones and new ones on clear skin. His body rocks against yours, the sweat built up between the two of you making each movement wet, sticky. Paz sucks on your collarbone then nuzzles his face into your chest, kisses sternum, and pleads, “Let me cum in you one more time.”

One more time...

“Okay.” You breathe into his hair, the tight black coils tickling your nose. He smells like pine trees, the lavender and birch shampoo you use, sex, and the scent of man, the distinct Paz variety. You could get drunk off it, and the tight bubbling building up in your lower tummy.

His hips shift, going low then high, and he repeats it— once, twice, three times— your body jostles in his arms, rocked to and from his heaving chest, like a ship caressed by the kind waves of a gentle sea. 

Four, five, six— you lose count, lost in the swirling ocean that is love and Paz.

Dark brown hands grip your hips, and you place yours above them, because you know you aren’t going to last much longer. He isn’t either, evident by his trembling breath.

“Paz!” The final gasp of his name comes with the rolling tide of orgasm, the fever pitch breaks to something resembling pure, and Paz is swept away with you, whispering your name to your heart. Both of you are breathing heavily, trembling and shuddery from your releases. You smile at the liquid warmth deep within you, and kiss Paz’s slick forehead. He looks up at you from between your breasts, still starry-eyed and now even more satisfied, tender.

“... Your boobs are still better.” He quips and you laugh, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him into a kiss. It really is in the dewy moments after, when there’s nothing but laughter, when nothing in the galaxy can touch either of you, not ever.

[julek]

read on ao3

“Geralt?”

Jaskier moved closer, his footsteps echoing down the stone hallway. The Witcher was sitting down, his hands in his lap as a thoughtful look crossed his face. He looked adorable, admittedly, brow furrowed and white strands framing his face, which was burrowed into a woolen blanket.

“Hi, love,” Jaskier said softly, and climbed onto Geralt’s lap as he opened his arms in invitation. He gently traced Geralt’s cheeks, pink from the cold wind howling outdoors. “You look... transfixed. Did Lambert try fishing with bombs again?”

At that, Geralt smiled, a soft, small thing, pink lips curving up. His cold fingers traced nonsense patterns on Jaskier’s back, even though layers and layers of warm fabrics stood in his way — sometimes, it was about feeling Jaskier’s skin against his, the touch grounding and pleasant; sometimes, it was about occupying his hands for the sake of doing it, no plans or intention.

“Ciri and I trained earlier this morning,” he rumbled, his voice rough.

Jaskier hummed, his nose brushing Geralt’s hair. “I know. I heard her swearing all the way to the library.”

“Hmm. She gets frustrated.”

“That she does.”

“She’s getting good. Real good. She just can’t see it, I’m—” Geralt’s frown deepened, his mouth twitching like the words wanted to escape him. He closed his eyes and breathed out, once, twice. “She’s really good. I wish she could see that— how far she’s come.”

“Mm.” Jaskier pulled back, only a little, to catch a glimpse of that amber gaze. “Have you told her?”

“Hmm?”

“What you think— have you told her? How far she’s come, how proud you are of her?”

Geralt narrowed his eyes, almost a subconscious thing, and Jaskier could tell he was turning the idea over and over in his head. Jaskier tucked his head in the crook of the Witcher’s neck, then pressed a small kiss over his pulsepoint. He felt Geralt relax against him, if only a bit.

They stayed in each other’s arms for a while, comfortable silence surrounding them, Geralt’s hands running across the bard’s back, Jaskier humming a quiet melody as the hearth rumbled and firewood cracked, sizzling noises filling the air.

“You know,” Geralt murmured against Jaskier’s hair.

“Yeah?”

Geralt shifted his weight on the armchair, pulling the blanket tighter around them both. Some minutes passed, and Jaskier didn’t push, didn’t press — he just waited, knowing the words would come when they’re meant to, if at all.

“She called me ‘Dad’, the other day,” Geralt whispered, and he sounded embarrassed, somehow, his voice thick. “‘T was a slip of the tongue, she— she didn’t mean it. We’d been sparring, and she kept getting frustrated and wanted to quit. Then snow started falling.”

Jaskier found his hand, buried under the blankets, and squeezed it softly.

Geralt smiled, his cheeks flushed a gentle pink. “And Ciri was so tired and miserable, and I was getting impatient too, and I just— I took some snow in my hands, and made a ball, and just— covered her in it. She was furious.” He let out a small laugh. “‘T was war, she said. And we kept throwing snow at each other. She started running, at one point, and I chased her around the courtyards.”

Jaskier felt tears gathering in his eyes, delighted by the story, and by the sentiment Geralt’s voice carried.

“Ciri was laughing so hard by the time I got her, and she didn’t care that her hair was white and her fingers had gone numb,” Geralt continued. “She was so happy, Jas. I— I had never seen her like that. So carefree and happy, like any child should be.”

He took in a deep breath, pressing their foreheads together. Jaskier grinned, his eyes closed, as they breathed in the same air. “We were laughing together,” he said. “And then we stopped, and everything was still for a second, and she said, ‘that was so fun, Dad’, and— she sounded so happy, so... alive. She hugged me.”

Jaskier felt a tear slip down his cheek. “Geralt.”

Geralt looked at him, so open and vulnerable, and his thumb gently wiped the tear away.

“Of course she meant it,” Jaskier said, and his voice cracked. “Of course she did.”

“I don’t know, Jas, I don’t— This is so hard on her. Everything. I don’t want to pressure her into anything she doesn’t want.”

“You’re so lovely, Geralt,” Jaskier murmured against his cheek, and hugged closer, his heart breaking a little. “You’re such a good man, so honest and humble and good— she adores you.”

“Hmm.”

He meant it — he’d seen it firsthand. The first week Ciri spent in the keep, Geralt had made sure she felt comfortable, showing her around and encouraging her to ask questions and wander the grounds whenever she felt like it. He’d train with her in the mornings and, after they all had lunch together, he’d accompany her to the library, where she and Vesemir would sit for hours on end, surrounded by books and bestiaries and ancient stories, all under the Witcher’s attentive gaze. Late at night, after dinner but before the wolves turned in for the night, Geralt would walk her to her room, then stay for a bit to tuck her in and listen to her talk — long conversations about her past, Cintra and her family, or small remarks about her findings in the keep, a hunting trip with Eskel or an alchemy lesson with Lambert. Geralt listened intently every time, and remembered every detail she’d shared with him. He worried about her; sometimes, late at night, Jaskier would wake up to find him sitting outside on their balcony, a foreign expression on his face and a steaming mug of tea between his hands. He cared for her endlessly — he loved Ciri.

Jaskier brushed a kiss against his forehead, warm and loving, and was about to bury his face back into Geralt’s neck, when a soft noise made them both look up.

Ciri padded into the room, her hair mussed and sleep still tugging at her eyes as she rubbed them with the back of her hand. In the firelight, she looked even younger, her rosy cheeks and soft woolen socks the most perfect picture of pure innocence. As she moved closer to them, Jaskier saw it, the worn fabric of Geralt’s cloak, draped over her shoulders like a cape and dragging across the floor, too large to fit her body. He looked at Geralt and saw his own expression mirrored on his face, if only more intense — adoration, raw and blatant, pouring from his eyes, a smile curling on his lips.

“Ciri?” Geralt called, one hand stetched out for her. “What is it?”

She moved closer, entwining his fingers with Geralt’s, so different yet so similar; pale hands that were slowly becoming more calloused and hard as they gained experience. “Fell asleep in the kitchen, by the fire. Vesemir wanted me to tell you he needed help with dinner.” She yawned. “Also grumbled something about you being lazy, but I told him we trained hard today, and he frowned, but said it was okay. That we could be lazy today.”

Geralt huffed a laugh, and Jaskier shifted so Ciri could sit on Geralt’s thigh, too. “Hmm. Good, then. Wouldn’t want to laze around without his permission.”

Ciri wrapped her arms around Geralt’s neck, and rested her head on his shoulder, firmly fighting sleep but losing. “Hmm.”

Jaskier snorted, and swatted playfully at Geralt’s side. “Oh, Geralt, that’s all you. She did not even know how to ‘hmm’ before she met you.”

“Hmm.”

He shook his head in fond exasperation, and leaned back, just a bit, to look at them in earnest. He watched as Geralt now traced small circles on Ciri’s back, her body tucked into his side as she snored softly, a small smile on her face. Geralt looked so content, so peaceful, so at home, Jaskier’s heart ached in his chest, pride and love fluttering in his stomach. They deserved it — every bit of peace and quiet, every moment of tenderness they could get, they deserved them all, and even more.

“You’re being sappy in your head, I can tell.”

Jaskier clicked his tongue. “I’m being sentimental— there’s a difference, thank you very much.”

Geralt leaned back, his head pressed against the chair, and closed his eyes with a content rumble and a knowing smirk on his lips. “Hmm.”

“Don’t know why I put up with you and your nonsensical grunting, really. Must have been dropped on my head as a child.”

“Must’ve been.”

Jaskier gasped with mock outrage. “You horrible, horrible Witcher. Don’t know why I bother.”

Geralt cracked one amber eye open. “Because you love me.”

“Hmm. Yet further proof I was most definitely gravely injured as a child,” Jaskier replied, with but there was no bite to his words. “I’ll go help Vesemir with dinner— someone must, if you’re to stay here and simply laze.”

“Thank you for your sacrifice,” Geralt said, teasing. Jaskier let out a small laugh and leaned down to kiss his forehead once more, then brushed Ciri’s hair back from her face. He took his hand back, but Geralt stopped him. “Thank you. Truly. I love you.”

Jaskier’s chest seized, and he smiled, smitten. “I love you, too. Very much. Now sleep, I’ll come wake you both when supper’s ready.”

“Okay.” Geralt leaned back. “Please don’t burn the keep down.”

Jaskier grinned, and looked back at him before shutting the door. “No promises.”

[plush-rabbit]

Behave Yourself

Request: Hmmm... I'm just gonna request this. Chrono teaching Kai's sister a lesson because she's bratty and doesn't listen to him- make it smutty if you want. Love your blog btw! (˘³˘)♥

Warnings: dub-con

Word Count: 3.3K

A/N: Chrono time!! I really have fun with him because he wasn’t like properly introduced as a character and i like to think he would be a mix of sleazy and sweet

You can feel his eyes on you. Since Hari entered the room, he’s kept track of you. He’s watched as you swivel side to side in your chair, shuffled around and played on your phone all while your brother talked about some nonsense pertaining to the Shie Hassaikai. You’ve only responded to him by giving him a raise of the brows, slightly bothered by the way that he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you.

“Overhaul,” Kurono states, standing from his seat and gaining the attention from the rest of the attendants, “is there a reason why they’re here?” He keeps his gaze on you, disdain etched into his words.

“They’re part of us. Why wouldn’t they be here?” Overhaul asks, leaning back into his chair. The toe of his shoe knocks against the leg of your chair and you stop moving, giving him a small grin. “If you rather not be in the same room as them, then go ahead and leave Kurono.” To emphasize his point, a gloved hand is raised and is gestured to the door.

A triumphant smile reaches your face. You puff out your chest, staring at him through a gleeful stare. “Ha,” you spit out, the smile ever growing. “He likes me better.” you stick out your tongue, moving your chair closer to your brother. You sit tall, your eyes piercing into his, pride the only thing that you can feel course through your body as your brother places a hand on your shoulder to quiet you down.

“Quiet.” His hand tightens around your shoulder. “Am I allowed to continue now?” He stares at Kurono through narrowed eyes.

Giving you one last stare, Kurono sits down. You roll your eyes, deciding to humble the dog that sits below you. “You know Kai-” you turn to face him, pulling his hand away from you- “if I’m that much of a bother for him, then I have no problem leaving. I was up so late last night that I might as well go and sleep a bit more.” All he does is wave his hand, excusing you from the meeting. You stand from the chair, pulling down on your skirt and sticking your tongue out to Kurono once more, before walking away.

-

All you had to do was drop off paperwork for Kurono to sign. You didn’t know why Kai had to send you off as if you were some intern, but you did so. And now you’re here, scowling at the man in front of you, who spits insults at you. You stand in front of him with your arms crossed, a headache already beginning to form.

“You’re a damn bitch, is what you are,” he hisses, stepping closer to you, his cheeks red with anger.

“Oh fuck you,” you spit out. “Call me a bitch all you want but we all know you’re just some pussy who doesn’t even have the balls to go tell me that in front of Kai. Oh-” you mockingly cover your mouth with the tips of your fingers- “I meant Overhaul. Because you’re not supposed to address him any other way, right? You’re just his little lackey. You may think of yourself as his right hand man, but guess what? I am. I’m the one he tells everything to, not you. So go fuck yourself Kurono.”

He grabs your wrist, pulling you closer to him. You stumble in your step and press against his chest. “You should learn to respect those older than you.” His grip tightens around you. “You’ve been nothing but a brat. Hasn’t anyone taught you manners?” You pull your wrist away from him, and hold it gingerly in your hand. “Or have you been fucking them on the side that none of them care?”

“You have no right to talk to me like that!” You snap, stepping closer to him and pointing your finger into his chest. “You’re just some self-centered prick who thinks he’s better than others. Guess what? You have a quirk! You’re some damn hypocrite and the first bullet that’s stable will go to you.” Your smile turns cruel, your gaze focused on him. “I’m sure Kai would agree if he found out that's how you were talking to me.”

You make your way to leave, the papers that he had to sign be damned. You were too angry to stay focused, too full of rage to actually hit him where it hurts. You weren’t actually going to tell your older brother, you just needed to leave. To stop hearing his voice and stop feeling his eyes on you.

A hand grabs the back of your shirt, pulling you back as you yelp. Your back makes contact with the edge of the desk, your hands going to hold you study. You look at him in a mix of horror and rage, baring your teeth to scare him away from you. His hand covers your mouth, and his nails dig into your cheeks when you lick his hand, so desperate to push him away. Your legs move, trying to kick him away and he places his thigh between your two legs. You try to push yourself away, his stormy gray eyes narrowing and darkening the longer they focus on you. His thigh rubs against your sex and you spit muted curses through his hand.

“Get off of me,” you hiss, trying to push him away, ignoring his shushing and demands of you to be quiet. “You’re a fucking creep.”

You’re tossed onto his desk, crying out with the harsh contact. You take a harsh intake of air, your muscles tensing and falling limp in the same second. “Now,” his hair pierces through your skin, blood trickling down your thigh, “remember to be quiet, sweetheart. We wouldn’t want people to come in wondering why you're moaning like a whore.” His hand squishes your cheeks together, your lips pursed and mouth forming an oval. His eyes narrow, hair slowly receding back into place as you’re forced to sit up, his hand on your lower back, arching your chest into him. You try to gather all the hate that you can into your gaze, cheeks flushed and ears dusted in a dark hue. “Don’t give me that look. After all, I was the one who gave you the choice to start behaving and you’re the one who decided to throw that back at me.” His hand lets go and you’re dropped back onto the desk, your face scrunching up in pain and your upper lip curling upwards. “Oops, sorry,” he apologizes with a grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’ll go in smoothly, the last thing I would want is to clean up a mess of yours. After all-” his hands are brushing down your side, past your shirt and against the hem of your skirt- “I’m not your brother. I have no real obligation to clean something of yours.” His knuckles brush against your thighs, tipped with red as they hold the fabric of your skirt in his hands, lifting it upwards to reveal your intimates. The muscles in your legs squeeze, your body burning as he lowers himself, his breath cool as it breathes against your covered sex. “You should consider yourself lucky that I even want to do this.”

Your sex pulses, anxiety coursing through your body, your heart beating in your cunt with his tongue so close to it. His tongue is flat as it presses against the cotton, dipping it with his spit and furthering it with your arousal that beads out cautiously. You try to clench your hands but you are unable to do so. You are still in front of him, feeling as his hands travel over your thighs, the cotton growing wet with each suckle.

Your underwear is pulled down, around your ankles it hangs as hot breath fans against your bare sex. His tongue laps around you, passing your folds, teasing against your entrance with the tip of his tongue, sweet trickles of your arousal drip and latch onto his tongue. He pushes in, his tongue scoop and swallowing your arousal, and you can hear him release a sigh.

“Who knew some brat would have a sweet tasting cunt,” he muses, his thumb pressing against your clit. “Huh, you tried playing so tough but would you look at this-” he rolls your pearl around, your body growing hot and a tight coil beginning to wrap around your body- “you’re actually turned on from this. What a pervert you are.” he kisses your sex, his tongue passing your folds. Despite being still, your body still reacts, your cunt pulsing, and breaths growing shallow. “Don’t tell me you’re already so close with just a couple of licks? No wonder you’re such a brat. You’ve never been fucked before, hm?” His tongue is thin and slimy, pushing inside of you and squirming inside of you.

“I hate you,” you hiss out, your leg twitching in response. “Calling me a pervert when you’re the one who froze me.” Every word is an effort, one that tires you out and makes you huff and puff at the end. “What is this? Some sort of hate-fuck?” You give out a bitter laugh. “It’s a pity, you’re actually handsome but still no one wants to fuck you because fo your filthy attitude.”

You yelp, your mouth closing and lips pulling into a thin line when his lips suckle against your fold, pulling in the plump fat and leaving it marked with his teeth. You whine in horror, choking against your own spit, your eyes wide as you focus on the light that blinds you from above. He kisses against the skin, blowing cool air on you, his lips wrapping around your pulsing clit, sucking on it. You cry out, snapping your mouth shut and giving out a soft whine. Even though there’s no reason to, he holds you down with his hands, the point of his tongue pushing your erect clit around, flicking it with his tongue and suckling on it. The pressure becomes too much, your muscles tensing but being unable to move it becomes all frustrating. You want to squirm away form him, to remoe his mouth away from your sex and end the building pressure. WIth a pop, he releases you from his mouth. You’re left unsatisfied and disgusted.

His lips are pressed against yours, his tongue sweet as it fills your mouth. Your eyes squeeze shut, a frown on your lips when you realize that you’re tasting yourself, his hands cupping your face as his cock rubs against your folds, pressing close against your pulsing clit, his cockhead teasing at the rim of your entrance.

He pulls away, a thin string of saliva connecting his mouth to yours. Stormy eyes look down at you, his gaze curious as he watches you desperately try to move, your eyes shining with unshed tears. “Oh come on,” he mutters, his knuckles brush against the side of your face tenderly, catching a tear that curves down your face. His knuckles are cold compared to your skin. “Don’t cry- there’s no reason for that. I’m making you feel good, aren’t I? I could be a big, bad scary man just thrusting my cock into this sweet pussy of yours-” his hand that isn’t touching your face cups your cunt at his words, warmth seeping onto his hand in heavy strands- “but I rather have you enjoy it. See?” His smile is gentle, his head tilting in a patronizing way, as a finger inserts itself inside of your cunt, nestling it’s way deep into your warm embrace. “You’re already so wet, and all I had to do was kiss you.” He leans down, the tip of his nose ghosting above yours, his breath thin with peppermint and your arousal as he nudges your head in place to stare at him. “I hope that you know this is a punishment for you. You’ve been acting too cocky, too full of yourself for blood relations. Remember who the fuck you belong to, okay? Because it isn’t to the Shie Hassaikai or even to Overhaul-” his nails embed themselves into your cheeks- “it’s to me. If I have to fuck you raw to have you understand your place, then so fucking be it. I’ll make you cry and that’s a promise.”

He turns you on your side, a leg lifted into the air and hooked over his shoulder, the other falling past the edge of his desk. His hands returning to wrap around your upper thigh, his face leaning close to yours and in this position, you can feel his cock press further into your inner sex. Your eyes close, your muscles clenching and tightening around his cock, your arms cushion under your head, tears falling onto your forearms. You try to hide your face, your breath ragged and chest heaving. Your muscles are tense, sore from being positioned for so long in one setting.

“Kurono, please, my body hurts,” you whisper, looking up at him through a teary expression. “I’m already crying, just please.”

He stares at you blankly for a moment, but then the corners of his mouth start to rise, a sick grin taking over his features. “Well, would you look at that. Even the brat can beg with a cock stuff inside of them.” A hand leaves your thigh and grabs onto your chin. “I have to say, tears really do suit you.” His touch on you softens, his fingertips now squishing over where his nails had marked you. “You must not hate this, because you’re already clinging to my cock. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure that I leave you nice and full once I’m done.” His cock slides out of you, a warm trail leaving you empty as his cockhead is kissed against your rim. “I’ll make sure it feels good for me.”

“Kurono-” You yelp as he thrusts himself inside of you, your eyes going wide and body tensing. It’s a dull pain that courses throughout your body, wrapping tight and squeezing around your stomach. “Ah-!” Your eyes squeeze shut with every thrust of his cock inside of your cunt. You try to force yourself to calm down, to not let him take notice of how your cunt throbs with every thrust. “Hari- Please, I’m- Oh fuck!” You moan out, tilting your head forward, eyes squeezed shut as colors begin to burst. “I promise to- promise to stop, just please,” you moan out, embarrassment settling deep in you at the sad show of enjoyment that you are receiving from him.

“You silly, little thing,” he grunts, pounding into your cunt merciless, harsh clicking sounds filling the room with every squeak of the desk. “I’m supposed to believe that? How fucking dumb do you think I am, huh?” Anger is faint on his words, but his actions speak louder and he reaches under your shirt, twisting harshly at a pert nipple. You squeal in response, your sound cut off by his hand clamping down on your mouth. “Shut up,” he hisses. “How desperate are you to have people walk in and see me fuck you? Huh? You want everyone to come in and watch me ruin your pussy? Is that it?” You shake your head. “Then shut up.”

He holds tightly onto your thigh, pushing himself to the base of his cock, shaping your walls to fit him. Your tears touch his hands and his hand is wet with your spit. It’s a simple hate-fuck, one where he hurts you, defiling you over his desk like you were some sort of toy. However, you’d be lying to yourself if you said that you didn’t enjoy it. Or rather your body enjoying it while you lay there as his cock curves so sweetly to hit against a certain spot. You can feel him press deep inside of you, his own hair sticking to his face and his cheeks and the tip of his nose rimmed with red. He pants heavily, his hand falling from your mouth and falling to your throat, curving to the back of it and pulling you close to him.

Your mouth is slack, the tip of your tongue pressed against his shoulder. Your legs are starting to burn, the joints and tension starting to become too much, a far sharper pain than anything he’s subjected you to recently. In fear from what will happen if you speak out, you remain shut, trying to milk his cock so he could release you, your eyes closing and body feeling heavy. The knot in your stomach is tight, pushing against you until you’re left with a tingling sensation that makes your body shake. You bite onto his shirt, pressing yourself close to his body with all the force and strength you can muster in order to mute your own cries.

You sigh in ecstasy, your eyes closing and body going limp onto the table. His hand smacks against your thighs, your brows knitting together. Cruel as ever, he turns you on your back, his cpk pressed against your thigh, his hand going to grip your face and he lifts you up. You support yourself by resting on your forearms, you hair sticking to your face and your sex still sore.

Shaking with sensitivity, your body has clamped around him, your legs shake as he continues to thrust inside of you. He grunts your name, clawing his hands into any of your exposed skin, until his movements start to grow sloopy and then he stills. He follows your actions, biting down on your shoulder to mute to his own cries of pleasure. He’s still, his seed filling your sex with a thick, creamy fill. He holds you for a second, riding his own wave of afterglow. He pulls out of you without a word, your sex fluttering around the now empty space. You can feel a drool of mixed arousal slowly slide past your sex.

He presses his face close to yours, the grip on your face firm. “Are you going to behave yourself?” He asks in a low tone, his gaze expectant.

You nod your head, muttering out a soft “yes.”

He holds onto your face tightly and you worry you’ll have to explain the bruises to others. “Yes what?” He states, his stromy eyes focused entirely on yours.

You swallow whatever little bit of spit is left inside of you, your stomach twisting into knots and your heart racing. “Yes sir.” A heavy flush of warmth floods throughout your body, pooling on your cheeks.

He smiles, releasing your grip from you and you are laid back onto the desk. “Good.” His hand slips away from your thigh and you are left a creamy mess on a desk. “Now,” he says, pulling out of you, a thick trail of semen coats the inside of your thigh, “run along to your big brother. I’m sure he needs you for something.”

In a cruel sense of irony- and perfect timing- your body finally listens to you, your hands clenching tight and spreading open, each finger wiggled in a test. Your legs are unsteady, feeling as if you were only learning how to first walk, each step unsteady and hands gripping tightly at the desk where you once laid, a wet stain already settling into the wood. You look at him, brows knitted together, your chest heaving with every breath. “Fuck you,” you spit out, bending over to pick up your discarded underwear, slipping it on as goosebump trail over your skin. The flat of it presses against your cunt and you try to hide your discomfort when his semen drips out of you and lands heavily on your underwear.

“Ah, ah,” he says without so much as looking back at you, raising a finger and wagging it in a disapproving motion. “Watch your mouth. That’s what got you into trouble with me.” The last image of him that you see is his smiling face, a hand combing his hair back into place as the door closes behind you.

[starsstruck]

cloudbusting; part six.

a classic coffee shop story. harry is a painter that quickly becomes a regular at his neighbourhood cafe, and it just might have something to do with a certain barista. midnight confessions, cozy closing shifts, and new lovers. 

pairing: harry x reader warnings: language, mentions of anxiety, sexual content words: 21.3k

series masterlist

art by holly warburton. (i have no vision for the mc of the fic, people in the images of paintings i use are purely because this is how i envision harry’s art to be)

a/n: thank you for everyone’s patience as i wrapped up the series 🥺 the final part is here ! very bittersweet for me, i am both very nervous and excited to share this with everyone ! tina @sunflowers-styles i truly cannot thank you enough for everything you’ve done to help me out ily to the moon ! 💞❤️ as always please share and let me know what you thought ! happy reading to everyone 🍊💞

The last time you spent a long time analyzing paintings was when your mom came to visit you in the city and the two of you went to the MET together.

There were walls and walls of art that you didn’t really know the context to – ranging from the medieval period to the surge of postmodernism – things that you had remembered but didn’t really know what they meant. At the time, your mother had been the one excited to go, but the more hours you spent at the museum, the more you found a liking to the art.

That said, that was the last time you really went to a gallery. That was until this past month.

You didn’t really know how long you had spent inside the small gallery.  

Harry lingered by your side for a bit, telling you that if you had any questions about the art or if you wanted him to stay by your side, he could do just that.

You had told him not to worry about you, luckily just as Aleena came by your side and gave you enough of a reason without telling him to go away.

You didn’t want him to go away, you actually did want to stay by his side. But you felt so incredibly guilty and overwhelmed that you knew that you would babble all of this in one breath if you were to stay by his side.

So instead, you stayed at a safe little distance. Walking around the space of the gallery, taking in every small detail of his work. There were sunrises and coffee cups, brushes of fingertips and shut eyelids – everything was so intricate and so beautifully planned that if you weren’t in a room full of people you would probably cry.

You always seemed to be not that far from Harry, once and a while catching his eye from across the room. Time seemed to have flown by, and as the night slowed down and people filtered out, you soon started to realize just how late it had gotten.

Harry had told you after, after what? You felt almost silly, waiting around. You didn’t even know what you were really waiting for.

“My husband is coming to pick me up,” Aleena squeezed your arm from where she stood next to you. “Did you want a ride as well?”

She watched from next to you, as your lips were bit together with nerves that never really seemed to leave your system. After thinking over her offer for a second, you smiled at her. “I’ll be okay, thank you though.”

“Okay,” she returned that warm smile she always had, offering you some ease. “Let me know when you get home, yeah?”

Just as you were nodding and promising that you would get home okay, you saw Harry with his eyes focused on you and a quick pace in his step as he walked towards you.

Nerves bubbled over inside of you, grateful that Aleena hadn’t left just quite yet as he turned to talk to her. “Have you had a good evening?”

Aleena’s eyes drifted over to you, where you stood more or less frozen with your hands woven together, trying to not think too much about how intoxicating it was to be standing close to Harry once more.

“I have – thank you for inviting us,” she shot you another look before turning back to Harry. “Everything looks great.”

Harry nodded with a smile playing on his lips, a little humble nod of his head as he accepted the compliment. He seemed to be about to say something else, when Aleena’s hand gripped your arm once more as she glanced down at her phone. “Oh! My husband is here – I’ve got to head out.”

She pulled you in for a little side hug, waving goodbye. Once again reminded you to let her know when you got home safe and her eyes flicking between you and Harry as she spoke wordless things to you.

As she walked away with her coat hugged around her frame, a small moment of silence passed between you and the honoured artist of the evening before you even dared to look at him again.

“Did you have a chance to look through everything?” Harry directed all of his attention to you once you did look at him. You laced your fingers together nervously and played with the ring on your pinky. The both of you knew that you had seen everything twice, but he needed to say something.

Nodding, you cleared your throat. “I did.”

“And?” He had his own hands fidgeting with each other behind his back as he watched you.

“I love it. All of it.” You offered him a smile. You saw a light pink tint his cheeks, eyes flicking away from yours for a moment.

“Did you have any questions, or…?”

You paused at his question, looking around the emptying room. “I mean just,” you met his gaze once more. “How?” The word was a breath of air past your lips, as you were still so completely incredulous as how he had done all of this. “How – how did you do all this?”

One side of his lip curved higher in a smile, dimple popping as he watched you sheepishly. “Spent a lot of time at the café, sunshine.”

Your heart sped up at the use of the little pet name he had graced you with. “We need to talk. I – I want to talk to you about everything.”

The words were blurted from your mouth, drawing his attention to focus solely on you as his chest visibly expanded with a deep breath. “Yeah, we do.”

“Okay,” you nodded your head, voice dropping. “Good. I – I wasn’t fair to you Harry.”

He was quiet for a moment, nearly a moment too long but he looked at you with that little half smile and gave you a little hum, before nodding his head at painting to your right. “Which was your favourite?”

You were a bit caught off guard from the way he changed to conversation, but you felt yourself melt a bit closer to him. He took a step towards you to stand next to you, both looking at the paintings in your vicinity.

“All of them,” you said quietly, a truthful answer to his questions. “All of them are my favourite.”

You felt his gaze on the side of your face, meeting his eyes when you looked back at him. His lips were drawn into the biggest smile you’d seen from him all night, a breathless laugh emerging from you at the sight of it. “Not too good at making decisions, are you?”

“Not usually,” you hummed, all the ‘I don’t know’s’ that you’ve spoken coming to mind.

“That’s okay,” he murmured quietly, eyes catching with someone as they waved goodbye to him from across the gallery before he looked back at you. “Can I show you my favourites?”

You smiled. “I thought you said that this one –” you pointed to the smaller frame you had both worked on, “– was your favourite.”

“Mhm it is,” he hummed. “But there are just too many of them that I love.”

A small laugh sounded from you, nodding before he motioned for you to follow him. “I really like this one,” he angled his head to a canvas filled with warm tones, brushing of fingers and peels of mandarin oranges littering the surface.

“I started eating so much more citrus fruit after I met you – is that weird to say?” Harry laughed, a bit nervously in your opinion, as you joined his light humour at the confession.

“I don’t think that’s weird,” you told him, observing the painting again.

“Good,” he mumbled, only briefly stopping with you before he started to move across the gallery once more to another painting.

“This was one of the first one’s I made,” he explained, stopping in front of a large work. There were only unmarked figures and bright spots of colour over the frame, warm toned browns and oranges overpowering the entire thing. As you looked closer, you saw the majority of these unknown people were interacting with each other: small shows of affection of held hands and arms over shoulders.

“It was after sitting in your coffee shop for so long the first time. I knew I felt warm, and comfortable there – just didn’t fully realize why yet. Went home that day and started this one.”

You had no idea what to say. He had started these the first time he had gotten coffee at your work? You wanted to wrap yourself in the canvas and live in the peaceful world he had created within the frame.

“I love the way you paint the café, makes me want to live there.”

“Me too,” he laughed, his arm nudging yours lightly to keep guiding you along. It was the first real touch he’d given you all night.

“This was the first time I painted you,” he stopped in front of a medium sized canvas, splashes of blue mixed into his usual warm tones as a seemingly far way figure was mostly turned away from the viewer.

Although there were no distinct features, there was a certain likeness to yourself that you had no idea how Harry had managed to capture. You looked as if you were almost floating above, other figures around you not as detailed or pronounced.

“I didn’t realize…” you spoke, more so to yourself as you leaned in closer towards the thick canvas.

“Me neither,” Harry admitted. “I didn’t realize it was you that I was painting at first. I finished it the day after we kissed.”

He turned back to face you. “I could talk about these,” he motioned to the room around, “all of these, forever. Just want to show you some of my process – how this all came to be.”

“I know I’ve said this already but it is so breathtaking,” you spoke truthfully.

Harry smiled dreamily at you, a small flush of pink on his neck as he nodded at the compliment. “And I know I’ve already said this, but it’s all you.”

Your breath stopped momentarily in your throat, as Harry was looking at you like you were the only person he ever wanted to see.

Though something pulled his attention away for a moment, and he was soon clearing his throat and glancing around the room before he spoke again. “We should be getting out of here soon – it’s just past eleven o’clock.”

Was it? You had no perception of time since you’d step foot inside the room.

“Do you think, um,” your lips were tight between your teeth. “That we could go somewhere, walk around…”

“I’d love that,” Harry responded nearly immediately, the nerves in your stomach settling just the slightest bit.

He needed to grab something from a room in the back before you left, and he was soon by your side with his familiar bag slung over his shoulder as he guided you out the door.

You didn’t know where you were walking really – if there was somewhere he had in mind or if you were mindlessly wandering. You didn’t care that much though, you trusted him, you knew that much.

There was a cold bite in the air, enough to make you shiver as the wind picked up the slightest bit. You were hugging your arms to your chest, feeling almost weird walking with the distance that was between you and Harry.

There were a good five minutes in complete silence, before you couldn’t bear the quiet anymore. You slowed down slightly to catch a quick glance at him, taking a breath.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. You don’t deserve this. I owe you an explanation.”

“What happened?” He asked quietly, your name low in his mouth. “I thought that we were…” he trailed off, letting you finish whatever thought he had.

You sighed, having planned so many things to say to him but at the moment it all left your head. “I got scared. I um, got insecure,” you laughed nervously. “It’s dumb, really.”

“It’s not,” he shook his head. “Your feelings aren’t dumb.”

You had both stopped walking by this point, stopping by a little park near the water and finding an only slightly damp bench to sit on. You kept your eyes focused on the ground, before braving a glance at him and bearing your heart.

“I really started feeling something for you – more than I thought I could in such a short time. It’s kind of… terrifying to me and unknown and just. I found any thread to pull at to let everything fall apart.”

He was quiet, watching you intently with the little furrow between his brow as he listened. “I get … anxious over every fucking thing.” You spoke in a long breath, blinking quickly. “And I let myself – I get in my own way all the time. Overthinking, finding any small reason to pull back, pushing you away when I really didn’t want that.”

“I feel so lost, most of the time,” you kept speaking. “And you’re like, this big ball of light that came into my life and I didn’t… didn’t feel like I deserved it.”

“It’s okay to not know what you want.” Harry said softly, only briefly cutting in.

“Still,” you exhaled. “It doesn’t excuse the way I was so shitty to you, and,” you took another breath. “I didn’t mean what I said last time.”

“I um, I realized that I really like you. And I don’t feel like that very often – there’s a reason that I haven’t ever really been in a long-term serious relationship – I scared myself into thinking that you maybe didn’t feel the same…”

Harry was still quiet from next to you, and you dared to cast him a glance after your confession. He had a smile building on his lips, one that you weren’t expecting to see. “You were worried I didn’t feel the same?”

“Well…”

“Ate you out on the floor of my studio – don’t just do that with anyone.” He spoke softly. You felt yourself warm at the way he spoke, eyes briefly tracing the pattern of leaves splattered across the ground. “Spent all my free time in your café, all my free time just bugging you while you were working. Painted an entire show just about you –”

He cut himself off, taking a breath as he quietly murmured your name, getting you to meet his eyes again. “Haven’t been able to get you out of my head since the moment I met you.”

Harry fell quiet for a moment again. “I forgive you – and I hope that you can talk to me about everything. Anything that makes you anxious, any reason you doubt yourself – I’m here for you.”

Your heart grew ten times in your chest. “I don’t deserve you…”

“You really need to stop doubting yourself,” his tone was light, eyebrows raised as he watched you with a smile pulling at his lips. “You deserve everything.”

“Harry –” you inhale deeply, insides feeling warm and fuzzy at his confessions. “Thank you. For everything. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

Again, he fell quiet with his eyes flicking around the two of you before he leant back on the bench a slightest bit. “You never answered my question, you know.”

“What question?” Your confusion was clear on your face.

“From that night – after we painted,” he paused, watching your brows fall closer together in your confusion. “I asked if you thought things happened for a reason.”

“Oh,” you said quietly, the memory of the question barely there. “Why’d you ask?”

“I like to think that things happen for a reason,” he mused, not really answering your question either. “Not that we’re all born with a written path, but that you stumble upon people and opportunities based off of the decisions you make.”

“What do you mean?”

“Can’t really put it into words,” Harry mumbled, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s like because of the decisions you make, it kind of … guides you in a certain way.”

You thought over his words, slowly nodding. You agreed that you didn’t think everything happened for a reason, with a planned path for everyone. Though you had never really thought about it in the way that Harry had just described it, and you found yourself agreeing with him.

He kept speaking in your silence. “Like, you don’t have a planned path for you but maybe just a small one. One that changes at every decision and turn in your life.”

“I like that,” you quietly spoke, bottom lip between your teeth.

“Like…” his hesitation made you look up at him. His expression was light, small crinkle in his eyes that held a smile, while he rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip.

“Like how I walked into your coffee shop because I like the colour tangerine, and then I met you.”

His words made your heart leap in your chest. Any thought left your head, the only thing coming out of your mouth was a breathy puff of air.

“I remember thinking,” he kept speaking, confessions tumbling from his lips. “That it was a bit of a silly name ‘Tangerine Coffee’, made me curious. But… it brought me to you.”

You didn’t know how to properly respond, no one ever telling you anything of the sorts that made you feel the way you did – that made you feel like you could give yourself completely to this person without a doubt in your mind. You wanted to wrap your arms around him and kiss him senseless, until you were both gasping for air.

“That’s,” you cut yourself off, starting over again. “Harry –”

“Listen,” he rushed. “I like you, so much so if I haven’t made that obvious yet. I want you, in any way you’d have me.”

Your legs felt like they melted into puddles, taking a breath before telling him. “I want you too – I never wanted you to go anywhere.”

His expression softened, and you saw his hands lace together with his fingertips fidgeting with each other as if he wanted to reach out to you but was restraining himself. “I hope that I make you good, I don’t want you to feel afraid – about anything.”

His words sat heavy in your head. You once again found yourself with so much you wanted to say to him and return his affections but didn’t find the words to say them.

“Do you think we were meant to meet?” You said instead, voice slow as you tried not to let your breath stop in your chest.

“I don’t know,” he spoke honestly. “But I know that now that I have, I can’t imagine my life without you.”

His words warmed your heart. “Me neither.”

Now that you had started, you couldn’t stop. “Harry I can’t apologize enough for how I panicked like I did. With past relationships, they’ve never really gone anywhere – I never really felt anything. Nothing past initial interest or attraction. And then with you… I didn’t realize what I was feeling and then when I did, I let it fall apart.”

A burst of wind passed through you again, and as you hugged your arms around your chest tighter, Harry’s shoulder pressed against yours.

“I’ve only really been in one serious relationship,” Harry started. “When I was twenty-one. Lasted for a couple years, but the longer it went on the more I realized it was more so just… easy to stay together. I had just left school, and wanted to move out here. She didn’t – it didn’t end really well.”

“I moved out here, started over. Felt like nothing was really going to ever work out, but slowly it does. It’s odd – when you’re in your mid-twenties you feel like you need to figure out how you’re going to spend the rest of your life – as if you don’t have your entire life. Looking back, I was much more hurt, and lost, than I realized. I thought… that I wouldn’t feel that strongly for anyone again. But I’ve realized that that can easily change…”

His words calmed you. You held your tongue for a second, before asking. “What about Rory?”

Harry laughed. “Why do you ask?”

You were nearly embarrassed about the confession. “I don’t know. I was… jealous of someone who gets to know you like that.”

“You’ve got nothing to be jealous about, sunshine.” He said, tone light. “We were just friends who dated and it didn’t work out. I’ve seen her, I don’t know, three times in the past year.”

“Oh…” you softly said.

“When I say that things can quickly change, I mean how quickly I started to like you. What I’m trying to say is that… it’s okay if it takes you a few tries.”

He made butterflies erupt in your stomach as you told him. “I also thought I could never, um, like someone as much as I have.”

He turned his head so that his gaze never lifted from yours. “Can’t get enough of hearing you say that.”

You held his gaze, watching the quirk in his lips as he brought a hand up to your cheek. You hadn’t realized the way you had missed his touch, until the few quick brushes that night. Feeling his bare skin against yours again just felt right.

Turning your face slightly while you moved closer towards him, you quickly glanced at his pretty pink lips. You didn’t really know why you felt nervous about kissing him again, but after telling yourself a quick fuck it, you leant forward until your mouth pressed over his. 

His hand easily slid from your cheek to wrap around the back of your neck, drawing you in closer as his lips easily accepted your kiss. You felt yourself both calm down and erupt in excitement as you kissed again.

Although, the moment found itself short-lived.

The first drops of rain always seemed anticipated. First a wet spot on the cement, and then a drop hit your nose.

The third drop to hit you is when you start to realize that you are outside without a cover, without an umbrella.

“Fuck,” Harry muttered, head titled up as he glanced at the drops falling from the sky. His hand retreated from you, disappearing into his big ivory tote bag and pulling out a folded black umbrella. “Don’t have an umbrella, do you?”

“No,” you brought a hand to cover your head, a makeshift cover for yourself as the rain picked up. You couldn’t help but laugh slightly, at the interruption of your moment.

“Here,” he unfolded the barrier against the rain, lifting it up over both of your heads. Extending his bent arm that was holding the handle out to you, silently inviting you to loop you own arm in with his.

Accepting the invitation, taking a step closer to him as your side pressed against his. Your arms tightly woven together, he tugged on your arm lightly as he glanced at you under the umbrella.

“I really don’t want to call it a night…”

“Did you want to,” he continued, pausing as he bit his smile down. “Come back to mine? To keep talking,” he quickly added. “We can have some tea if you’d like, warm you up.”

You laughed lightly, nudging him with your hip. You felt a rush of tingles down your spine, a rush of excitement rather than a rush of anxiety. “I’d like that.”

There was something so cheesy about walking arm in arm under the umbrella with someone in the rain, with someone who liked you and you liked just as much. Something so cheesy, something that would happen to Bridget Jones, something so small that you were so overjoyed about having that you squeezed his arm just a bit tighter.

You had no idea what time it was, and you didn’t care. Getting on the train together, watching Harry under the harsh fluorescents as he sat next to you with his thigh pressed against yours.

He was glancing at you from the corner of his eye, a light smile seemingly permanently etched across his lips as he watched you yawn. “Tired?”

“Not really,” you said truthfully. “Well maybe a bit, but not tired tired. Just relaxed.”

He let out a sigh, smiling with you. “Me too.”

The journey wasn’t very long. Sharing the umbrella once more as you walked side by side to his place, feet splashing in the growing puddles that lined the sidewalk.  Part of you always loved the city at night when it rained – everything was still so bright as the lights reflected off the wet road.

It wasn’t long until you were walking up to the familiar building, letting Harry lead you up the stairs and into the warmth. His place was just as you remembered, seemingly cozier at night with the warm dim lighting coming from his lamps. You followed him inside, kicking off your shoes and heading to the kitchen with him.

Eyes darting around his place to take in the place as you’d only really seen half the place last time while Harry walked to his kitchen, part of you eagerness to have a look around also due to the little cat that you hadn’t gotten out of your head.

“Oh!” Exclaiming maybe a bit too loudly in the otherwise quiet studio, at the sight of the little calico that was lightly running towards the two of you. “Where have you been hiding?”

Bending down to trace your fingertips over her back, reveling in the way she rubbed her head over your leg. “You’re just a little baby,” you cooed, ecstatic when she let you pick her up. Holding her small frame against your chest, watching her enjoy the way you dragged your nails behind her ears.

“Not so much a baby anymore – she’s nearly ten,” Harry chuckled near you, grabbing his electric kettle and bringing it over to the sink to fill with water.

“Really?” You directed your question to Harry, not his cat. “She’s so small, I thought she was a kitten.”

He smiled. “She’s just little. Actually is a bit of an old lady.”

“No,” you looked back down at the little calico. “You’re young at heart, aren’t you?”

Harry laughed at your conversation with his cat, turning on the kettle and pulling out two mugs from the cupboard. “When’s her birthday?” You continued with your questioning, lightly placing her back down on the ground when she started to squirm.

“Not too sure,” he hummed, leaning back against the counter to face you. “She was a stray – there are ways you can test all that but why go through the trouble, you know? Fairly certain of her age and I like to think her birthday is in the fall.”

“I get that,” you agreed. “How long have you had her for?”

“About three years now,” he said, as the kettle got louder. “She’s fairly independent, likes to do her own thing but also loves attention.”

“Have you ever painted her?”

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “I’ve tried a few times, yeah. Could never quite capture her though, I don’t know. I’m bound to try again soon, though.”

“Would love to see that,” you hummed. The click of the electric kettle letting you know it was done, and Harry turned to riffle through another cupboard.

You watched him pull out two little tea bags, placing them in the mugs and twisting the strings around the handle of the mugs. You smiled to yourself, noticing he did the same thing you did when you made tea at work. 

He handed you one of the mugs, leading you over to the flower-patterned couch he had on the adjacent living room. You held the mugs between both hands, the hot ceramic instantly warming you.

Easily falling back into conversation with him, talking until the tea grew cold and forgotten by the edge of the coffee table. 

“Your coworker, I realize I don’t know her name – the one you brought to the show with you tonight.” Harry asked, after he told about the various times he had come into your work a few months ago but you were not there. 

“Aleena,” you told him, smile on your lips.

“Yes, Aleena. She would always bring you up when I came in and you weren’t there. Somehow – she always talked about you with me.” 

Small groan leaving your mouth, recalling the various conversations you’d had with her about Harry. “That sounds like her,” you warmed under his light stare. “I did talk about you with her…” 

He shuffled on the couch, eyebrows raised with a silly little grin on his lips. “You did?”

“Well….yeah I did. Talked about you a lot too – even with my brother out of all people and I never tell him anything.” 

“You did?” He pressed, moving a bit closer to you as his hand nudged over your forearm. You glanced away from him, shaking your head with a smile. “Didn’t realize you had it that bad for me.” 

“Shut up,” you tried to push him away, not doing a good job of it and not really caring all that much. 

“Only teasing,” he hummed happily. “Like getting you flustered.” 

You looked back towards him, trying your best to bite away the smile growing at your lips as he did often in fact, make you flustered. 

“Are you not very close with your brother?” He asked after a moment, voice soft once more. 

You shrugged. “I don’t know. We’re just … very different people I guess. I feel bad sometimes, that we’re not really close, but I don’t think we have a bad relationship or anything.” 

“That’s okay,” he said, hand on your forearm now tracing light patterns over your exposed skin, with the sleeve of your sweater pushed up. 

“We’ve tried a bit harder in the past couple of years, especially since my parents split. We both saw how it affected them.” 

“Affected how?” 

“Well like my mom specifically just… seemed so heartbroken for a long time. Even if she wanted the divorce just as much. It’s hard, seeing a parent like that.” 

He nodded, eyes focused on the movement of his fingers of your arm. The little calico cat had made its way onto the couch as well, demanding your attention for a moment as she tentatively placed a paw over your bent knee. 

“The period of grief,” Harry started after a moment, pulling your attention away from the cat that was resting by your leg. “Any kind of grief – it’s hard but it’s important, you know?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well like – it shapes you. Like I wouldn’t want to go back to the person I was before. It’s good to let yourself look back, it helps you move forward. But you should be focused on only moving forward, if that makes sense.” 

You didn’t like the idea of Harry having been in pain. 

“Yeah that makes sense,” you nodded after a moment.

He continued. “I think I do that – when things aren’t going well I think back to a time that was better in the past, even if it wasn’t really that much better.” 

“I hope you feel happy now.” 

He glanced back at you, meeting your eyes. “How could I not?” 

A moment passed. A moment where if there wasn’t a cat sitting between you, you were sure that you would topple over him and make sure to never leave him. And with the way he was looking at you, you were certain he was thinking the same thing. 

“I don’t mean –” he paused, fingertips still dancing over your forearm. “Did you want to stay the night? It’s late and raining, and well, you can if you’d like.”

You thought it over for barely a second, every fibre in your body jumping at the suggestion. He was right that it was late, it was likely past midnight. It’s not that you lived that far off, but it would be a small pain to have to walk home in the downpour.

And plus, you very much liked the possibility of ending up cozied up with Harry under the warm covers.

With a short nod and the inside of your lip between your teeth, you glanced at him. “If it’s not too much trouble…”

He nearly sprang off the couch. Holding out a hand to you, you let your palm fall against his as you stood to your feet. He brought you around the corner, to where his bed sat in the back of the studio. Just like the rest of his place, it was warm and inviting.

A dark brown dresser next to a closet had some clothes sitting on top of it, that he quickly grabbed and put them back in their place inside one of the drawers. The tones all around you were deep browns and oranges making you feel cozier just by being in the secluded space. You were busy looking around, at the little images he had on the walls and over the pictures you assumed were of his friends and family.

“Did you need something to change into?” His voice brought your attention back to him, where he was still standing by the dresser and digging through one of the drawers. You glanced down at your sweater covered dress.

“Yes please,” you smiled. “Anything is fine, a shirt or maybe a hoodie? I get cold easily...” you trailed off lightly, eyes meeting his and his expression was the cause for your loss of words.

You didn’t really know why, but he just looked so soft and pretty and so happy to have you with him it was leaving you for a slight loss of words.

He nodded, turning away from you again as he looked for something for you.

“Is this good?” After a second, he passed you a light gray sweatshirt, the fabric soft under your fingertips.

“Should be,” you spoke softly, unfolding the material. You placed it on the edge of the mattress beside you, eyes meeting his for one more brief second before turning away from him completely so that your back faced him.

As if some sense of privacy since you weren’t facing him, although you knew that wasn’t the case as you could feel the burn of his gaze on your back. Biting away a smile even though he couldn’t see the little smirk dancing on your lips, you tugged off your heavy sweater and let it drop next to the sweatshirt on the bed.

Next was the dress, fingers pulling at the zipper until the material was loose enough to fall off your form. Leaving you in nothing but your navy-blue underwear that left not much of your bum covered, you could feel the hot stare Harry had on your bare back as he remained quiet behind you.  

Grabbing the sweatshirt from the bed, pulling the thick fabric over your head in a quick motion and settled it around you until your arms were through the sleeves and the bottom hem covered just enough. It smelled like him, it wrapped around you so nicely you didn’t think you’d want to take it off.

Turning around, you lifted your eyes until they landed on Harry’s face. His gaze shot up to yours, before dropping down once again as he made no move to hide the way he took in your appearance in his baggy sweatshirt.

“Right,” he coughed. If you squinted, you could make out the little red tint on his neck, even in the dim light. “I think I have a spare toothbrush somewhere.”

He led you to the small washroom, walking through the open door and bent down to search in the cupboard that sat under the sink while you watched from the doorframe.

With a small ‘aha’ muttered past his lips, he rose to stand in front of you with a green toothbrush in its cardboard and plastic packaging. He wordlessly opened it for you, tearing the cardboard from the back until the brush was free and ready for you to use.

“Did you need anything else?” He murmured, shifting forward so that he was practically pressed against you in the doorway of the washroom.

Wordlessly shaking your head, your gaze locked with his until he stepped past you so that you could further enter the room and shut the door.

You easily found his toothpaste next to his brush that sat in a little ceramic cup on the counter. After brushing your teeth, you casually searched through his drawers, picking up miscellaneous objects and placing them back in their spots until you found a little pot of moisturizer.

Washing your face and patting small dots of the cream just around your eyes, you glanced over the rest of his possessions in the washroom with a little casual snoop.

The countertop had a few items spread across the surface; a cologne that you brought under your nose, some hair styling product, a little bottle of light purple nail polish, and a little dish that had a couple rings sitting in it.

Realizing you were probably taking a bit too long, you shot one last glance in the mirror before heading out from the bathroom.

You found Harry picking up some stray clothes from on top of his dresser and folding them back into the drawers. He turned around at the sound of your footsteps on the floor, lips turning into a smile as you neared him.

“Good?” He checked, as your fingertips wove nervously together.

“Yes,” grinning back at him, “thank you.”

His turn in the washroom, you didn’t know what to do while you waited. Obviously sliding into bed was the answer, but for whatever reason you felt it best to wait for him to come back. Instead, you walked around the space near his bed, looking at various things he had on the walls and resting on his shelves.

Head tilting to read the titles of the books sitting on his shelf, finding primarily books on artists – some you had heard of but most you hadn’t. Fingertips skimming over the spines of the books, plucking a thin one with a title you were fairly sure was in French. Delicately flipping through the pages, pages of small bits of texts surrounded with little black and white drawings. Everything was in the foreign language to you, though you stopped on a page when you caught the little scribble of English words on the page.

“…they go even farther perhaps, towards the unknown, into the light and joy.”

You didn’t know what to make of it, not having the context of what the rest of the words were saying but you simply enjoyed this phrase paired with the sketches of a couple and dark waters.

“What ya’ looking at?” His voice behind you caught you a bit off guard, feeling as if you had been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to do.

Turning around, you held up the book still in your hands. “Sorry,” you weren’t sure why you were apologizing. “Was just looking at your books.”

Harry walked over to where you were standing, taking a look at the book that you held. “It’s nice, no?” He hummed, taking hold of the book when you extended it out to him. “It was a gift – feels a bit lost on me though since I haven’t had the time to flip through and translate everything. I do really like these artists though.”

“Who wrote it?”

“An artist from the twentieth century – or actually parts of it were written with their partner too. It’s essentially all about the story of their love. I’ve looked up translations for a few things here and there, this one here,” he pointed to the page you’d opened it on. “I really like it.”

You nodded with a small hum, squinting to re read the words on the page once more.

“It’s just – beautiful, y’know? Going into the unknown, with the one you love.”

Still staring at the book in his hands thinking that he was going to speak again, you looked up at him when a silence fell through the room. He was already looking at you, standing closer than you’d previously realized. He had his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes clear as they seemed to scan your every thought.

Something about standing in a warm cozy room while the rain poured outside, reading stories of love with a man who had recently declared his affections for you. Something about it that made a warmth spread through your chest, and a peace that you had never felt settle over you.

“Did you want to go to bed?” The question was quiet, Harry’s voice subtly cracking is if he hadn’t used it in a while.

You were on the verge of making a joke about him being presumptuous, but you were glad that you held it in as a part of you revelled in the way that a thick layer of anticipation seemed to settle in the air around the two of you.

“Yeah, I do,” was all you said instead.

Harry moved first, placing the book back on the shelf where you’d found it, and made his way over to the bed that sat on the other side of the room. You had only just noticed that he’d changed since you last saw him, long legs nearly bare as his bottom half was only covered by a pair of briefs and a teeshirt over his chest.

With his back turned to you as he turned off the large lamp on the other side of the room, the only source of light now coming from the dim lamp on the bedside table. You couldn’t help the way your eyes dropped to his backside, black fabric hugging over the curve of his ass – impossibly attracted to the man before you.

Eyes falling to a newly exposed tattoo to you as he turned around, not missing the slight bulge in his front before your eyes darted back up to meet his gaze. He had obviously caught you staring, a smirk on his lips that he was doing a terrible job of hiding.

He wordlessly walked over to the edge of his bed, pulling up the covers before sliding his legs over the mattress and settling in underneath the duvet. He looked at you expectantly, patting the spot next to him with his palm smoothing over the pillow.

Silently following his motions, lifting bare legs over the mattress to fall in opposite of him. One of your legs hit his under the heavy blanket; neither of you moved. You were on your side, daring to face him as he peered down at you.

You weren’t close together, but you weren’t that far away either. If you reached out you could easily brush your hand across his cheek, and he could lift his arm around you to pull you in closer. A thick beat of silence passed, gaze only breaking with the occasional blink of an eyelid.

You took a step into unknown waters. “I’ve never felt so comfortable anywhere or… with anyone. So, thank you.”

His lips curved in a dreamy smile. “Why’re you thanking me?”

“Just,” you bit your lips together, voice quieter than the pouring rain. “For making me feel that way.”

“’Course,” the word was so quiet, deep from his chest. “I intend to make you feel all kinds of good things.”

A breathy laugh at his words, paired with a little shake of your head. Though you felt the eruption of butterflies through your stomach, they weren’t nerves and rather were warming your body and making you feel even better than before.

“I’m serious!” He urged at your reaction to the slight innuendo. Lifting himself so that his elbow was tucked under to hold himself up to hover closer to you, leaning forward to press a loud kiss to the side of your forehead.

Turning your head at the action, faces mere inches apart. Letting your eyes dance over the line of his nose, to the dip of his cupid’s bow, until they were tracing the soft curves of his lips.

“You make me feel the same, for the record,” his voice had dropped to a whisper, as you watched his mouth form the words.

Momentarily realizing that you had only gotten one quick taste of his lips that night, that it had been weeks since you’d properly kissed him, you were overcome with the strong urge to kiss him until neither of you could breathe.

Your hand moved on its own accord, reaching across the miniscule space between you until your upper body was somewhat twisting so that you could thread your fingers through Harry’s hair. A light touch against him, curls slipping between your fingers as you saw him lean into your hand.

He seemed to be thinking the same thing as you, as his hand raised to hold a light grip of your forearm and pulled himself closer to you. Leaning down until his nose brushed over your cheek, you let your eyes shut while your mouth parted open.

You raised your head off the pillow, lips puckering and landing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. The hand in his hair was pulling him closer to you as he captured your mouth with his. A feather light touch of smooth lips on top of yours, his hand on your arm sliding until it slipped down to rest over your hip. He was pulling you up with a light pressure to draw you in closer, until you were fully resting on your side as well.

“Sunshine,” Harry called against your lips, a quiet hum in his voice. His forehead rested against yours, while you folded your legs towards him to rest more comfortably as you laid propped up on your side.

Then he kissed you, making you forget any fear you’d ever had. His lips moved with yours, not so much with hunger but with desire, wanting nothing more than to feel as close to you as possible. You felt him lick over your lips, easily complying to him as your tongues met with hot need.

His hands were quickly on you, one trailing over your cheek to hold you firmly over your jaw while the other landed against your middle to tug you over towards him. Mouths parting with a hot breath, barely a second apart before they were pressing messily against one another again.

He was pulling quiet gasps from the back of your throat, swallowing every noise you made against him to hold them to memory. Your hand in his hair scratched along his scalp, freely pulling at the soft strands and repeating the action when you felt his chest vibrate with a muted moan.

While your swollen lips pressed hotly together, you felt his hand slide over your hip, resting heavy there for a second with fingertips treading lightly as if considering whether or not to venture lower. Apparently deciding a yes when you whimpered over his lips, his palm smoothed over the curve of your bum and gripped tightly into the skin, the action causing your lower half to push further against him with need.

Tense air of desire surrounded the two of you, actions growing heated while your breathing grew heavier. His hand couldn’t stay in one place, pinching your skin between his fingers as it moved down to your bare thigh. He hooked it in the fold of your knee and pulled your leg up over his own so that you were partially over top of him.

You let out a whine at the feeling of his touch on you, his hand resting where it was for a moment before trailing up north once more. He pushed his palm against the curve of your ass, your hips rubbing onto his thigh in a small motion.

Your leg over him was tightening around his hips as if holding him in place, while his fingertips played with the edge of your underwear and snapped the band over your hip before they were digging into your skin again.

Your mouths parted for a moment, your tongue tenderly licking over his lips as he raised his head towards you to search for more. A soft moan was heard from the back of his throat when your lips fell from his mouth and moved down his jaw, starting a series of feather light touches before your teeth nipped the skin under his earlobe.

His hand smoothed over the top of your hip, edging up under your sweatshirt and over the small of your back. He was gripping you tighter as you kissed down his neck, licking over the sensitive skin. You felt his stomach clench under you, a whimper of your name past his lips when your nails dug into his scalp.

“God, you’re unreal,” Harry panted from above you. “Make me feel – like never before –”

He cut himself off with a groan, while you moved one of your hands along his chest to venture lower and lower with your nails scratching over the fabric of his shirt. You were kissing up the column of his neck, edging the fabric of his shirt up until your fingers met his bare skin.

His lips slid along your temple, own hand leaving from under your sweatshirt and taking a light grasp of your hand just as your fingers edged around his hips and closer to the elastic of his briefs.

“I…” he paused, stopping your hand while you looked up at him in his hesitation. “Fuck I’m sorry – I can’t now, if that’s okay,” he groaned low against you. You saw him squeeze his eye shut, blinking a few times before meeting your eyes.

“I want you,” his voice was raw, and he pushed his hips against yours to accentuate his point as you felt his hardening length through his clothes. “You have no idea how badly I want you. It’s just – been such a long day – I wanna be able to give you everything you need.”

His words sent a rush down your spine, eliciting a little unintentional whine from your throat as you rested your chin on his shoulder and watched him speak. “And ‘m worried I can’t right now –”

A yawn interrupted him and stretched out his jaw, as if his words brought the display of tiredness along.

“Fuck,” he laughed through the yawn. You pushed yourself up a bit, face hovering close to his with a smile pulling at the corner of your lips. “See? I don’t want to fall asleep on you.”

You kissed his jaw, with a quiet whisper. “It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, watching you shake with a little laugh. “I… I’ve never wanted anyone more,” he whispered hotly against you. “I just…”

“No need to be sorry,” you murmured, capturing his mouth as your teeth grabbed his bottom lip and your hand cupped the side of his face. When you pulled away from his mouth, you nearly missed the small breath of a whine that was sound from the back of his throat.

Brushing your thumb over his cheekbone, you moved your head just far enough away so that his features weren’t blurry to you anymore, while you kept your eyes locked with his. “And I really want you too.”

The weight of his hand left your waist, skin feeling cold without it but instead he wrapped it around the back of your neck, pulling you back in. His fingertips scratched lightly over your scalp, a soft contrast to the way his lips so greedily caught yours.

“You have me,” he whispered, teeth clashing when he spoke. “All of me.”

A whimper echoed past your lips at his words; at the feeling of his mouth on yours, and the way his legs tangled between your own. Mouths slowing against each other, a nearly lazy kiss while you both tried to catch your breaths once more.

You took a breath, wanting to give him as much as he was giving you but not finding the words.

“We can… we can just kiss, yeah? I don’t want to stop.” You mumbled against his mouth while his hand smoothed over your cheek.

“Yes,” he moaned into your mouth. “Just want to hold you close, and…” he never finished his sentence, true to his word and held you close against him and kissed you deeply.

Continuing like that for you didn’t know how long, quiet moans and heavy breaths being the only sounds in the room, hands still gripping each other tightly.

After a while, you felt a small bit of exhaust yourself. The light movements of Harry’s hand running over your arm and up to your neck were starting to calm you down in a way that had your eyelids growing heavy.

Lips slowing over his, you planted lazy kisses over the corner of his mouth and over his chin, while he cupped your jaw to gaze down at you. Eventually, your lips brushed over the column of his neck until you rested your head over his shoulder with a content hum.

Both with swollen lips and heavy eyes, you lay quietly together as sleep slowly took over. His hand kept moving in soothing motions from the curve of your shoulder to the bottom of your scalp, the slow and gentle motions starting to lull you to sleep.

“Long day for you too,” he hummed quietly, words lacing together and his chest vibrated from under you. “You worked today, no?”

Gently parting your eyes at his words, titling your head up so that you could look up at him. “How did you know I worked today?”

A light smile grew on his lips when his eyes met yours, his lips skimmed over your forehead. “Coffee lingers on you.”

“You can smell it?” you giggled. You could always smell it on your hands, your clothes and your hair. But you never knew anyone else noticed.

“Mm I can,” he inhaled exaggeratedly. “Smells good, sunshine.”

You turned your head towards him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder with a laugh. “I’m glad.”

Resting your head against his shoulder, lips puckering to press a soft kiss over his neck before you settled back down over him with a little hum as your eyes fell shut.

You started to slip your leg off of his, but a hand on your thigh quickly stopped you to keep you in place. “Stay right here.” The words were whispered over your forehead, quiet command that had you easily complying.

A peaceful silence fell over the two of you, the only sound coming from the small breaths leaving the two of you. The patter of the rain seemed to have quieted down, and part of you secretly hoped that it would pick back up soon so that you could lounge around the following day without any guilt.

The feeling of his chest that rose and fell under you, paired with the steady beating of his heart and the soft strokes of his fingertips against your skin was soothing you in a way you had never known. “Goodnight Harry.”

“’Night, sunshine.” His voice was barely audible, fingers gripping you just a bit tighter as sleep seeped through your body, an overwhelming sense of peace surrounding you as you rested pressed together. 

The heavy rain was the first thing that you recognized in the early morning. The second thing you felt was the warmth all around you; there was the heavy duvet paired with the familiar and calming noise of a heater going off. The third thing you noticed was the man pressed against you, a thigh between your legs and a hand wrapped around your middle.

You peaked your eyes open, trying to gage what time it was simply from the blinds that had never been closed. The dark grey – nearly black – sky wasn’t giving you too much of an indication but you knew it had to be very early morning.

You were almost in the same position that you had fallen asleep in: on your stomach with your head over Harry’s arm and your hand wrapped around him. You gently moved your head, tilting it up to look up at the presumed still sleeping man by your side. Harry looked so peaceful, eyes shut and lips only slightly parted.

You took a moment to think over everything in the past twelve hours, everything from the night before that had you positively melting in the best way possible.

With the calm that surrounded you, you jolted in his grasp when suddenly he shuffled and his raspy voice sounded in the air. “Morning,”

Head lifting a bit more to get a better view of him, you watched him turn his face as well so that he could peer down at you. “Did I wake you?”

“Been in and out of sleep,” he hummed, his tired eyes glowing when he met your gaze. “You’re awake early.”

“What time is it?” You yawned, moving your hand from where it rested on his chest to rub at your eyes.

“Just past six-thirty,” his eyes never left you, as you felt his hand over your sweatshirt move in small circles.

“I’m used to waking up early – and hey you’re up early too.” The small hint of a laugh sounded through your tone and you felt yourself waking up.

You saw his eyebrows furrow. “Do you have to get to work?”

“No,” you shook your head, content smile gracing your lips at the reminder that you in fact did not have to go into work. “I’m off today.”

The crease in his brow disappeared, a mirror of your smile on his own mouth. “The whole day?”

“The whole day,” you confirmed.

He shifted, keeping you close while he rolled over to his side and helped you do the same until you were both lying facing each other. Limbs were still tangled, one of his hands keeping a tight grip around your back and he had a leg still between your own. Your arm was reached between the two of you, moving to brush along his neck while the other one rested underneath your head.

“And any other plans for the day?”

“None,” your voice dropped back down to a whisper, his gaze intent on yours as you felt his hand slide lower over your back. “What about you?”

“None,” he mirrored, voice still carrying a slight rasp. Silence fell over you again, this time only the rain against the window filling in the gaps.

You were about to speak again, when a slight move interrupted you. A slight move of his leg between yours that caught you off guard when his thigh brushed over your covered centre in a motion that could be seen as accidental but with the way he was looking at you, you were sure he had every purpose in the world.

“D’you have any dreams last night?” He spoke quietly, voice low for a reason you were sure to be other than the fact that he had just woken up.

“No, I – I don’t think so,” you hummed, feeling his thigh move once more to rest easily against your underwear covered heat, as if taunting you to rub over him. “Did you?”

“Mm I thought I did,” he said slowly. His hand stopped at the small of your back, applying a steady pressure to nudge you forward; both closer to him and over his thigh. “Thought for a second that last night was a dream.”

“It wasn’t,” you whispered.

You saw his eyes glued to your mouth when you spoke the words. Watching his eyelids briefly flutter closed, your head moved over the pillow just the slightest bit as if moving in to kiss over your jaw but he stopped himself.

“Certainly wasn’t,” he murmured, gripping your lower back tighter when he pushed you over him with a little more force. A whine from your lips was barely audible when your centre rubbed over him with a bit more pressure.

“How do you feel?” His voice seemed to drop even lower, smooth in your ear. “Still tired?”

“No,” you whispered, a growing ache dropping through your stomach and straight to the spot between your thighs at the growing tension. “You?”

“Wide awake,” he breathed out, a slow blink before his gaze met yours once again.

It was as if unspoken words were shared between the two of you, conversation from the night before of “not right now” fluttering through both of your heads. Was now the time? The anticipation was slowly driving you crazy. You certainly wanted now to be it, and with the way he was looking at you, you found it safe to assume he felt the same.

He brought his hand that wasn’t against your back to the bottom of your jaw, somewhat tilting your head up so that your face was angled towards his.

“I’d really like to kiss you again,” he hummed softly, eyelids still heavy as his thumb brushed gently over your skin. He looked at you in a way that made you feel like you were on fire, a way that would normally have you avoiding his gaze but right now all you could do was stare back at him with hopefully just as much intensity.

“Then do it.”

You caught the way his eyes fell down to your lips when you spoke. You wrapped your arm further around him, pulling yourself closer over the mattress until your chests were nearly completely pressed together. Pressing down just the slightest bit over his thigh, enough to have him grip you tight and he didn’t waste another second before he got everything out of you he wanted.

His mouth landed along your jaw, a series of loud pecks in a line leading to your chin. His shoulder against yours, he twisted his body until he was hovering over you and pushing you onto your back. Supporting himself on his elbows, he took a second to gaze down at you as one of his hands cupped the side of your face.

His thumb made contact with your mouth first, softly tracing the outline of your lips with the pad of the finger before his mouth captured the trail he had just drawn.

Every kiss with him felt like the first time, like every nerve in your body was alert and that Harry was the only thing occupying your mind. His mouth moved languidly on yours, soft strokes of your lips sliding together. His tongue easily slipped into your mouth, smooth licks over each other in slow movements.

His chest pressed against yours, half his body resting over you as his chin bumped yours as the soft kisses deepened. He was giving you everything he possibly could, wanting to savour every moment as the soft mutterings of “we have all day” rang through his ears.

A hum resonated through your chest, the feeling of his hand smoothing over your neck warming your skin. He repeated the motions, holding a grip to your jaw. He seemed unable to hold you in just one place, touching you, feeling you wherever he could.

His other hand had slid between your bodies, gripping into the material of your (his) sweatshirt tightly. The fabric had ridden up on your thighs, the hem of it sitting right below your stomach and your bare legs tangled with his. The blanket over the two of you was falling off to the side, neither caring all that much as heat was coursing around you.

Breaking apart for a moment, both of your breathing growing heavier and you could feel his heart beating faster against you. Your eyes parted open, meeting his gaze while the lip that he had bit into was then tucked between your own teeth.

You felt a laugh slip past your mouth, chest lightly shaking and you saw his mouth widen in a dimple popping smile. You didn’t know why you were laughing, just feeling so light and at peace in that moment that you couldn’t help the little giggle of bliss.

He leant back down, teeth clashing in another elated kiss. Picking up right where you had left off, smiles slowly falling as a subtle intensity grew. Your soft chuckles being replaced with quiet moans, hasty fingers gripping at each other as if the other were about to disappear.

Heavy tension floated between your bodies, unable to help yourself from the small jolt of your hips over his thigh. He urged you to repeat the action, pushing against you hotly while your mouths greedily indulged the other. You could feel him resting hard against your leg, the thought of having been the one to get him there just further turning you on.

Both your arms wrapped around him, one holding into the thin fabric of his shirt while the other was laced through his hair. Your tugs in the strands were growing tighter when he drove his hips forward. You felt one of his own hands venture lower under the duvet, meeting the bare skin of your hip and grabbing into the skin. Pulling your leg around him, allowing space for him to settle in between your legs.

His head hung in the crook of your neck, peppering pecks over the curve before he was sucking soft kisses over your skin. Moans no longer being muffled by his mouth over yours, he quietly urged you on with a never-ending series of kisses.

“Really gonna kill me,” he muttered, the hint of a smirk evident in his voice.

A breathy laugh was all you could muster, focused on the way his hand was edging under your sweatshirt and feeling over the warm skin of your tummy. He pulled himself away, chest heaving in the air as he moved down to press a heavy kiss over your mouth. His tongue moved slowly over your lips, pulling away with a tug of the sensitive swollen skin.

Harry sat up on his knees, shifting over so that he was by your legs with his hands still holding you. The action had caused the blanket to nearly fully fall off, now only barely covering half your legs. Your eyes skimmed over his form, dark shadows beneath every dip in his body. You couldn’t help but stare at the clear as day outline of his length in his briefs, seeming painfully hard and heavily restrained by the thin fabric. You had to bite back a moan at the sight.

He was leaning forward again, his other hand pushing up under the shirt that was riding high on your middle. His eyes followed his motions, the heavy silence interrupted when he cleared his throat.

“Can I undress you?”

His sultry tone and heavy gaze had caused goosebumps to rise on your skin, no matter the heat that surrounded you. “Yes please.”

A hand on either side of you, hem of your sweatshirt hitting his wrists as he pushed up slowly over your chest. His fingertips trailed over your skin as they did so, trickling up and over the swell of your breasts. Soft graze over your nipple had a little gasp emitting from the back of your throat, your eyes flicking up to his to see his gaze glued to the new skin exposed to him.

“Gorgeous,” he mumbled, as you lifted yourself up a bit to help him push the shirt up and over your head, before it was completely forgotten and tossed aside. He hovered closer to you, hands following the line of your shoulders before dropping down to palm over your breasts.

Massaging them in both hands, fully cupping over them as he felt their weight in his palms. He wasted no time, dropping his head lower until his lips met the skin he was so enamoured by.

Hot lick over your nipple, lips circling around the skin as you felt a hum of vibrations when he moaned around you. Both hands were all over you, as if he was unable to stop his indulgence in his admiration for your chest. You gasped into the air when his teeth grazed over your overly sensitive nipple, leaving it nice and wet before he watched the nub harden once more in the cool air.

A trail of his mouth along your upper chest, stopping with swift nips at your skin followed by soft sucks. He was no doubt leaving a few marks to keep an impression of his mouth on you. Giving the majority of his attention to your other breast, hands still occupying as much space on the soft skin as he possibly could.

The sight of wet patches over your chest had you let out an involuntary moan, the feeling of his mouth over you driving the ache between your thighs to a nearly unbearable pressure.

“Harry…” you whined, hand trailing over his neck and to his scalp as you called his name once more.

“Completely fuckin’ breathtaking,” his voice vibrated over your skin, as he pressed a loud kiss over your sternum. “My sunshine,” his lips moved over your collarbone, “angel,” a kiss to the column of your neck. “My tangerine orange.”

His mouth was over your jaw, as he fell back down to his side to rest over the mattress. One arm supporting himself so that he could lean over you, the other still resting at the underside of your breasts while his thumb rubbed small circles into your skin.

“A tangerine?” You giggled around the words, unable to help but sound breathless as your head was spinning over the attention he was showing you. He lifted his head to meet your gaze, pupils a bit blown and a lopsided grin on his mouth. “You’re going to peel me open and eat me?”

You didn’t realize the innuendo behind your words until they left your mouth, the sudden memory of the way Harry had made you cum on the floor of his studio causing the heat between your legs to grow. A silly little smirk grew on his lips, a soft hum from his throat before he spoke again.

“Yes, exactly.” His chest shook with a laugh, lips puckering to land a kiss over your skin.

“You’re so sunny,” he whispered, hand venturing lower over your hips.

His tongue licked over your skin, “taste delicious.”

The hand on your hip slid over to your thigh, pinching your skin as it slid to the inside of your leg. You parted your legs instinctively, allowing him more space. “Want to spread you open.”

Your eyes briefly fluttered shut at his words, just as his lips fell to your mouth, kissing you deeply. The action nearly distracted you from his hand that was still sitting low, massaging into the skin of your thigh.

“You have to –” he took a heavy breath, your eyes opening to meet his when he spoke. “You have to tell me what you want, okay? Need to make sure you feel good.”

“Okay,” you breathed, promise in his words heavy. “You too.”

“What do you need right now, sunshine?”

His fingertips were so close to where you longed to feel anything. You found yourself at a loss for words for a second, hyper focused on the feeling of his hand tickling your inner thigh. “Can I?” He brought your attention back to his words whispered over your neck. “Tell me if I can.”

“God, yes,” you moaned into the air, arm around him gripped him tighter just as his fingers grazed over your covered clit. His thumb started with small circles over you for a brief second, reveling in the way your legs shook with the pressure that he had been building.

“Feel that…” he groaned, when his fingertips slipped past the elastic. He pushed your underwear aside for two fingers to slide through your wetness.

Your legs parted unprompted, making space between your thighs for his hand as he felt his way through your slit, no doubt soaking his fingers on you before pressing over your clit. He breathed a quiet curse, withdrawing his fingers from you to push your underwear down. Peeling the fabric off your lower half, you lifted your hips up into the air to make his job easier.

The garment easily forgotten, you kicked it off by the end of the mattress and focused on the way Harry’s fingertips circled over your clit. His head lifted from where it was hanging by your shoulder, feeling his hot breath hit the side of your cheek. You turned your head on the pillow, eyes meeting his.

You think you felt yourself grow wetter just by the way he was watching you so intently, as if he was silently demanding that you keep your eyes locked with his. His beautiful eyes watched every reaction you had and every sound you made due to his hand between your thighs.

Drawing him in closer with the arm you had around his neck, he complied and landed a kiss to your cheek. Moving to the corner of your mouth, before fully capturing your lips with his in a deep kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth, just as his fingers slid over your slit until one was pushing into you. A whimper resonated through your chest, the feeling of his finger slowly dipping into you already had you clenching. He bit down on your lower lip, sharp inhale at the feeling of your warmth around him.

Unable to kiss him properly as heavy breaths left your mouth, he dragged his lips down your jaw until they were latched to your neck once more. You brought your other hand to his chest, nails digging into his skin as your back arched with the slow and steady feeling of his finger inside of you.

Pushing your hips onto his hand, his palm pushing against your clit as you did so. You couldn’t help the moan at the feeling, paired with his teeth nipping and lips kissing over the sensitive skin of your neck. As he laid on his side, you felt his length push against your hip with small nudges into your skin.

His lips slid lower, just as he pushed another finger inside of you with a slow motion. “Good?”

“So good,” you responded quickly. “Don’t stop.”

“Don’t intend to,” he muttered, listening to you with his fingers pushing in and curling against the spot that had you bucking up to meet his movements.

His lips kissed down the swell of your breasts, mouth circling over your nipple with a soft hum from his chest. Teeth grazing over the sensitive spot, pulling whines from your throat as he continued to tease you.

The deep pit of tension from the bottom of your stomach was building, as you felt yourself craving to feel come undone below him. You could hear his fingers move in your wetness, the obscene sound somehow turning you on even more as your arousal was evident.

His mouth left your skin, lifting himself up slightly so that he could watch you. Your hips were pushing up trying to find a rhythm with his fingers, his palm tight against your clit as you couldn’t get enough of the feeling. You were shamelessly chasing your high, already feeling edged closer and closer to it after the long-built anticipation.

His thumb brushed your clit, the pressure as he worked to push you towards your high. Your nails were digging into his chest, gripping him tightly from the side as you pushed your back into the mattress with an arch to spine.

Euphoric sensation floating through your veins, heading straight to your wet centre where his fingers were swiftly working you over. Pumping the two inside you in fast motions, hitting the post along your walls that had you biting your lip so hard you were sure to taste a sting of blood.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, voice breaking out of a whisper as you couldn’t help the raise in tone. You felt good, overwhelmingly so and you wanted nothing more than to feel yourself come undone over Harry’s hand.

“Please, do” his voice was low, hoarse. “I wanna feel you.”

You whimpered at his words, eyes shutting tighter with moans leaving your mouth at the pleasure shooting down your legs and up your spine.

A hum was sound from his throat, he spoke a small “love” in an attempt to grab your attention.

“Look at me.”

Complying at the roughness in his voice, your eyelids parting open to watch him with parted lips and clammy skin. His eyes were dark, intent on your every breath. Arm flexing as his fingers quickly fucked you, while your hand grabbed his bicep tightly when you felt you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

His pace was quick, deep and calculated, noticing what moves he did that made you moan. It was so intensely attractive to you, how closely he watched and wanted you to enjoy yourself.

You could hear mumbling incoherently, unable to decipher or even try and listen to what he was saying as the pressure built and built until you were coming undone around him.

Hips jolting up as he curled his fingers, rubbing over your clit while you choked around your moans. You held him tightly, nails digging into his shoulder as you felt like you needed to hold on to him, onto anything otherwise you would drift away in your pleasure.

He breathed heavily while he watched you, falling back down to his side with his face resting in the crook of your neck. His fingers slowly withdrew from you, still pressing light touches onto your sensitive clit causing your legs to twitch at the feeling. “Harry.”

“Dreamt of you like this,” his words laced together, muttered against your skin. He gave you loud smacks of kisses onto your shoulder, along with his soft mutterings. “Real thing is so much better.”

With hot cheeks and swollen lips, you lifted yourself up on one elbow to hold yourself up and face him. He fell onto his back, just as you were positioned seconds ago and withdrew his hand from between your thighs. Wet fingers raised, slipping them past his lips to taste you with a low hum from deep in his chest.

Gripping your jaw with said hand, pulling you in for a deep kiss. As much as he kissed you this morning, as much as he kissed you in the past day, you could not get enough of the feeling of his mouth. Your own hand lingered over his chest, tracing uneven patterns over him.

You dug your nails a bit harder into his stomach, feeling it clench from under you. Almost as a soothing action for yourself as you settled from your high, you ran mismatched patterns over his front. Dipping lowered and teasing the band of the briefs that he was still wearing, your nails dug into his skin just as an audible groan left Harry’s lips.

He muttered a quiet “killing me,” over your mouth, his hand leaving your jaw and landing over your own hand that rested on his chest.

His fingers laced with yours, and he carried your hand with his and placed it directly over his bulge. Squeezing your hand in his, matching whines from the two of you at the action. Yours at the weight of him in your hand, and his at the feeling of finally having your hands on him.

As if you had switched positions, this time you held yourself propped up on your side so that you could hover over him. His hand left yours, soft groan as you freely palmed over the very defined bulge in his underwear. You kept your eyes stuck to your motions, not even realizing the way your lip slipped between your teeth at the feeling of him.

Pushing yourself up on your hand, sitting up with the rest of the blanket falling off your body. But you didn’t care, you didn’t need the extra heat.

You tugged at the elastic that sat tight against his hips, fingertips slipping under it and over the hot skin. Casting him a quick glance, seeing his eyes locked on your hands, chest rising and falling with a small furrow between his brows.

You pulled down his briefs to the middle of his thighs, watching the way his hardened length rested against his skin. One of your hands trailed up his thigh, resting just under his hipbone. A sharp breath on Harry’s part was heard as your other hand firmly gripped his length.

Circling your fingers around him, a soft stroke until your palm became sticky with his precum. Moving your thumb over his tip, applying more pressure as you saw the way his stomach clenched and his legs jerked with a bend in the knees.

Your silent gaze landed on his face, just as he looked up to meet your eyes. Withdrawing your hand from him, you pushed your thumb past your parted lips to wet it nicely. His eyes greedily watched the way you sucked, moaning your name as a beg while his hand gripped yours on his thigh.

Bringing your hand down to circle your wet thumb over his tip again, giving him slow tugs while you listened to every noise he made. Every small pant of your name and whine into the air. You had never felt more turned on by someone else’s reaction to you than right now.

“You look,” you bit your lip with a smile, looking for the right words as you slowly pumped your hand around him, “really sexy.”

He tried to let out a chuckle, the sound being cut with a moan when you circled your thumb over his tip.

Bending down, you pressed a kiss at the underside of his navel while you worked over his length. Kisses pressed following the trail of hair that led south, before Harry grabbed your shoulder to stop you. “You can’t…” he choked as you sat up straight once more, withdrawing every inch of skin from his so that you were no longer touching at all. “I’m already bursting for you, I don’t want to –” he paused, “– I mean, do you want to have sex?”

You leant forward, palms over his chest once more as you found yourself unable to go without touching him. “Yeah, I really do.”

He pushed himself up, sitting closer to you. “Okay,” he rushed, one hand running through his hair. “Okay.”

You couldn’t help but laugh quietly at his flustered state, watching as he yanked his briefs off the rest of the way down his legs, letting them fall to the floor. He pushed himself up more until he was sliding off the bed, your hands falling from him once more while you watched him stand. “I know I’ve got condoms somewhere –”

And then he was walking away from you, with a quick “stay where you are!” called over his shoulder. You did just as he said, falling down to your back and rolling over to your side with your head resting on your hand, watching him disappear around a corner.

He was back moments later, from the washroom you presumed because you didn’t know where someone would keep condoms other than by their bed. You watched him stand at the edge of the mattress, head dipped down as he threw the wrapper to the ground and rolled the condom over himself.

He took a heavy breath, lifting his legs to kneel over the mattress as he reached out for your legs. Large palms over your calves, he slid them up with soft circles of his thumbs into your skin before he spoke a low “can I have you on your belly?”

Easily complying, you fell forward so that your chest was pressed into the mattress and your cheek against the pillow. You felt his hands slide up your legs, over your thighs until he was gripping the swell of your bum. First you felt his breath hit your skin, then his lips kissed over the skin with a light lick on his tongue. Continuing the motions as he moved up, from the bottom of your spine until he was laying on his side right next to you. Touching you all over, you felt one of his hands graze over the soft skin of your stomach and pull you up, so that your back was pressed firmly into his chest in a spooning position.

Adjusting yourself gently, bending your knees so that they could support you over the mattress. You shifted your lower half, his cock pushing right against your bum. You felt his lips glaze over the crook of your neck, face buried in your skin and he peppered the surface with kisses.

“Are you okay like this?” His voice was muffled by your skin. “We can do it however you’d like…”

Twisting your head so that your eyes could meet, you shot him a reassuring smile. His gaze was heavy on you, desire written all across his features as he followed the small nod of your head. “More than okay.”

He leant forward, forearm wrapping around you to grip your jaw and press his mouth hot and hard over yours, just as a moan of your name resonated through his chest. You could feel him pushing against your bum, the anticipation of feeling him inside of you causing the ache between your legs to become nearly unbearable. His mouth parted from yours, hot promises of making you feel good pressed against your jaw before your cheek was resting against the pillow once more while you were silently begging to feel him inside of you.

A hand was between your bodies, he was gripping his length to push over your folds and get himself wet over you. A quiet moan at the feeling, you couldn’t help but nudge your bum back to rub over his cock. He repeated the action, quiet curses leaving his mouth as his tip found your entrance and he slowly but surely edged himself in.

The intense feeling of him filling you had you gasping out his name. You were certain it was a combination of the closeness of the position and simply the fact that it was Harry behind you, as you’d never felt yourself melt completely into another person like this.

His hand circled around your side, parting your legs a bit further while you pushed back into him. He didn’t stop until his hips were pressed tight against your backside, and a low exhale fell over your shoulder.

“You feel,” he stuttered lightly, firm grip of his hand over your hip.

“How does it feel?” You breathed, turning your head around once more to gaze up at him. He moved his hips, painstakingly slow for the both of you as you moaned at the feeling of him inside of you. His head fell down to brush his mouth over your jaw, hot breath fanning over the expanse of your neck. “Feels incredible,” he babbled. “You’re so fucking… feels amazing.”

Your cheek fell back over the pillow, eyes falling shut and he started to pump his hips into you at a steady pace. You could feel him everywhere around, hitting so deep within you. Soft moans of praises were freely falling from his lips, never seeming to go that long without skimming them along your skin.

His hand slid up from your hip, resting over your lower stomach to guide you over him while he pushed quickening thrusts into you. You let out a heavy pant at the feeling of him rubbing deliciously against spots that made your vision blur. Your hands fisted into the pillow, moving your hips in small rolls to push back on him.

He pumped into you harder, hitting dipper as the pleasure within both of you grew. You moaned when one of his hands slid up your tummy to grip your breasts, massaging the sensitive skin in a way that had you clenching around him.

Your name fell from his lips, kisses planted on the nape of your neck. There seemed to be virtually no space between both your bodies, connected so closely it was making you dizzy.

His fingers pinched over your nipple, eliciting a sharp inhale from your before he moved his hand up to grip your jaw. Titling your head towards him once again, not wasting a second before he leant over and connected your lips. Kisses were rough and messy, licking over lips and hot moans pressed together.

He trailed wet kisses over your jaw, and to the bottom of your earlobe. Muttering hot praises into your ear, telling you how hot you felt and how much he wants to feel your come undone for him. His hand skimmed back down over your neck, blindly grabbing at your breasts and sliding down your stomach.

The sounds filling the room were filthy, paired with the heavy rain outside and the occasional loud motorist. It was something out of a dream, the serenity of your surroundings paired with the euphoria you were feeling.

In a steady rhythm, hips snapping in time together as Harry’s teeth tugged on your earlobe. He was making every delicious sound possible, losing himself in the feeling of you. Shallow breaths hitting your skin as the feeling of his forehead resting over your shoulder weighted over you.

You hummed, lifting your arm around so that you could stroke your fingers over his cheek, pushing through his hair.

“Can – can we switch positions? I wanna see you…” you called, feeling his hand over you stop moving.

“God,” he said quickly, words hitting the back of your shoulder. “Anything you want.”

He slowly withdrew himself from you, both letting out small pants of the feeling of no longer being connected to the other. You pushed yourself up, sitting on your legs as you turned yourself to be able to properly see Harry.

His hair was falling wildly over his forehead, lips deep pink and eyes dark as he watched you move around him. His hand was still on your hip, pressing against your skin as if to push you to lie down on the mattress, but you softly shook your head.

“I want to be on top,” you whispered while you lifted a leg so that you had a knee resting on either side of his hips, your hands landing on his shoulders to help him fall against the mattress. You lowered yourself to sit just at his hips, hovering over him with a kiss planted directly on his mouth. Kissing him deeply as one of your hands rested between your bodies, blindly wrapping your hand around his cock.

“Anything,” his voice was hoarse as he returned your affection. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

“I want,” your hand squeezing him lightly in your palm. “To make you feel good – want to make you feel the way you make me feel.”

You moved your hips over him in a slick motion. He groaned against your mouth, lips easily parting and unable to focus on kissing you back as the feeling of you touching him the way you were was driving him absolutely crazy.

You lifted on your knees, chest leaving his when you sat up straighter. Bowing your head to watch the way he entered you once again, sinking back down around him. Heavy eyes flicking back to his, seeing him just as enthralled with the way the two of you connected.

His heavy hands were gripping onto your hips, a shaky breath leaving his lips as you bottomed out over him. “Don’t know how much longer I’m going to last…” he whispered, eyes meeting yours as one of your hands moved from his shoulder to brush over his jaw.

“That’s okay,” you breathed, swivelling your hips over his. His palm slid over the curve of your ass, fingertips digging into the skin when you moved again. The feeling caused a rush of heavy desire to course down to your heat. “Me neither.”

He was moaning when you started to move your hips on his, sliding over his length as you searched for a rhythm. He felt just as deep like this, just as snug inside of you and you couldn’t help but call out his name while you pumped your hips with his.

“Fuck me,” he groaned, eyes falling over your frame, from your chest to the space where you connected as he watched you move over him. “You look so fucking good like this I –”

You trailed a hand down his chest, fingertips falling over your own lower tummy before they were sliding down your wet clit. He watched you greedily, unable to tear his eyes away from the way that you started playing with yourself.

Rubbing light circles over your clit, heat in your belly burning once again. The combination of the deep strokes of his cock inside of you that was hitting against spots that made your vision blur, and the added pleasure of your own fingers over your wet clit, you were being sent closer to another orgasm.

Harry’s hand circled around your wrist after a moment, tugging your arm towards him until he was slipping the two fingers that had been wettened by your cunt into his mouth. You fluttered around him at the sight of him sucking on your fingers, your thumb pressing firmly on the underside of his jaw when you pushed your fingers further into his mouth.

Feeling his tongue swirl around the digits, you rocked your hips faster over him and you moaned at the view of the man below you. Your hand fell from his mouth when he let go of your wrist, wet fingers sliding over his neck before you were holding his shoulder tightly once again.

A surprised squeak was sound from your mouth when Harry pressed a hand into the mattress behind him and raised himself to a seated position, causing you to fall back against his thighs. You held onto his shoulders, an incredulous laugh sounding past your mouth at the fast motion that had you briefly fearing that you would topple over backwards.

“Alright?” A small chuckle laced his word, although when you shifted over him so that you were properly seated on his thighs with your knees still planted into the plush mattress, his voice caught in his throat.

“Yeah,” your own voice was feeble, airy.

It was the closest you’d ever felt to another person, his chest grazing yours with every heavy inhale as his head dipped down so that he could kiss over your shoulder. His hips started moving up to meet yours, quick thrusts into you as the both of you neared your climax.

Needy for his mouth, you pushed a hand through his hair as you searched for his lips with half closed eyelids. As you tugged on the curly strands, he quickly accepted your kiss with one hand on the small of your back to keep pushing you down over him in tight motions. Chests now pressed flush together, you were moaning into his mouth while he murmured small praises.

“Please,” he begged, unsure of what he was asking for, just knowing he needed something. “How is it – do you feel good? Please …”

“So fucking good,” you moaned around the words. Eyes opening, pulling at his hair so that you could gaze up at him. Desperate eyes watched him, watched the furrow pull in his brow as his hips pumped with yours with quick snaps, wanting nothing more than to have you come undone around him once more. “I’m so close –”

“Please,” he repeated, one of his hands moving from your backside and snaking around your front, shoved tightly between your bodies as he blindly searched for your clit. Rubbing quick small circles over the sensitive bud. The feeling paired with the pleas of having you cum around him that were kissed over your neck, being just what you needed to push you over the edge.

You pressed your lips to his when you came, lips wrapping around his bottom lip as your teeth pulled on the sensitive skin. Calling out his name into his mouth, fingernails digging deep into his skin. You saw the moon, you saw the stars, and most importantly you saw nothing but Harry.

Your hips lost their rhythm over his when you squeezed him tight, grinding down onto his pelvis as a moan was sound from deep in your chest. You tugged at his hair, begging him to kiss you again while your hands desperately gripped at his skin.

He kissed you fiercely, tongue sliding over your lips as you barely had the ability to kiss him back. His hips were still jerking against yours, motions growing more and more frenzied as he bit onto your lips, low mutterings of praises and whines of wanting to cum.

And he soon did, pushing everything he could of himself as he came into the condom. His hands never stopped tracing over your spine, giving your backside sharp pinches as he moaned deeply. Twitching against you as the two of you came down together, his head resting over the crook of your shoulder while he took deep breaths through his nose.

He kissed along your shoulder, mouth wet over your skin. Your fingers traced over his neck, every nerve in your body feeling sensitive as you started to shift over him. You were both quiet, other than heavy breaths and fast beating hearts.  

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, but after a while the throbbing in your legs died down and you were able to swing a leg over and slide off of him. You fell over on the mattress with a breathless laugh, a content feeling seeping through you as you laid back on the bed.

Watching Harry push his hair from his face, biting his swollen lips together as he watched you with hearts in his eyes. “How are you?”

You hummed, dreamy smile on your mouth. “I’m good – best I’ve been in a while I think.”  

He smiled as he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss over your temple with a muttered “me too”.

Butterfly kisses over your skin, a soft “give me a sec,” before he lifted himself up and swung his legs over the mattress, sliding off the bed and rounded the corner away from you.

True to his word, he was back seconds later after presumably disposing of the condom and cleaning himself up, and he pulled on a pair of shorts that hung low on his hips. “Did you want shorts, or pants to wear?”

“Maybe some pants?” You hummed from where you sat on the mattress. He nodded, handing you a pair of pastel multicoloured sweatpants.

You lifted  your hips from the mattress, pulling the pants over your bottom half before you settled back down. Harry grabbed the blanket from where it had fallen off the bed, laying it over you before he slipped in as well.

You shifted closer to him, accepting his arm that wrapped around your bare stomach and pulled your chest against his. You settled in deeper into the pillows, smiling contently as you felt yourself starting to grow tired.

He watched the way your eyelids started to flutter close, pulling more of the blanket over your back. He pulled it off of where it fell to the ground, draping it over you and the bed before sliding in next to you. “Get some rest – we have all day, yeah?”

You hummed into the pillow, feeling him tighten around you as your breasts pressed into his skin. His other hand was smoothing over your neck just as it was when you fell asleep together last night, the action slowly and surely lulling you to sleep.

Harry watched you as he felt sleep overtake him as well, he watched the slow and steady rise of your chest. He could feel your heart beating against him, resonating with his own heartbeat as if the two had fallen in synch. 

Hours past before you woke up again. The sky was a bit lighter than previously, hard rain still hitting the window from outside as it never seemed to let up.

Your bare chest was tight against Harry’s, skin sticking together. Soft exhales were coming from his parted lips. He had an arm wrapped around you, the occasional twitch of his finger as he moved in his sleep.

Moving over on the mattress, slowly waking up as you raised yourself on your elbows to gaze down at Harry. Leaning over him to kiss over his closed eyelid, gently removing his arm from your middle before sliding off the bed. You easily found the abandoned sweatshirt from the morning, tugging it over your bare top half.

Remembering where his washroom was, you took a quick glance to see the pouring rain outside before flicking on the light switch to the room. Uncapping the toothpaste that rested over the counter, grabbing the toothbrush that you used the previous night.

Due to the briefly running tap, you hadn’t heard the rustle in sheets and feet on the ground that was coming from the adjacent room. Harry was soon poking his head in from the parted door, tousled hair falling over his forehead as he shot you a lazy smile through the mirror.

He hesitated by the door frame for a second, then taking a few steps towards you so that he could stand behind you. Wrapping both arms around you with his chest pushing into your back, he titled his head to kiss over your jaw.

“Morning again,” he murmured, teeth teasingly pulling at your earlobe.

You couldn’t respond with your mouth full of toothpaste, keeping your eyes on him through the mirror. His grip around you loosened a little when you bent down to spit out the toothpaste and rinse out your mouth.

“Hi,” the word whispered as you turned in his grip, raising a hand to scratch over the thin layer of stubble that lined in jaw.

“Want to make something to eat?”

You nodded, mirroring the smile on his mouth as you traced the dimple over his cheek. “Music to my ears.”

Following Harry to his kitchen. It was small, not much counter space you noticed but he had a little table up against the wall that held bowls of fruit and a cutting board. He opened up the cupboard, tapping his fingertips against the wood while he gazed at the contents. “I do have the fixings for pancakes if you’d like…” he moved to the fridge, opening it up, “or eggs…”

He turned back to you, gaging your reaction. “What sounds good to you?”

“Whatever is easiest,” you smiled, leaning back against the counter across from him.

“Not whatever is easiest – what did you want to eat?” He laughed lightly, facing you.

You paused, biting your smile back as he urged you to make a choice what you liked best. “Pancakes.”

“Perfect,” his smile grew, as he turned back to the cupboard he had just opened. “Some fruits too?”

“Yes please.”

He pulled out the mix he already had to make pancakes, grabbing a bowl and a wooden spoon to start getting everything together. You went to see what kind of produce he had, picking out some apples and oranges that sat together in a bowl.

He saw you searching through drawers, clicking his tongue. “Have a seat, I can do it.”

“Okay, okay,” you laughed, taking a seat on one of the wooden chairs by the little table. You grabbed your phone from where it had sat all night by the counter, scrolling through recent notifications before opening up your Spotify to play some music while you prepared your meal.

Choosing one of the playlists you usually played at work, a soft hum of Nancy Sinatra coming through the speaker as you placed your phone back down on the table and watched him quickly work around the kitchen.

“Do you have coffee?” You asked, eyeing the French press sitting in the corner.

You saw the bag sitting next to the press before he answered your question, as you rose to your feet again to grab the paper bag and twist it open, smelling the ground beans.

“Yes,” he answered, turning around to see you having already found it. “Is it… good?”

You laughed breezily at his nervousness over the coffee he had bought. “I’m sure it’s perfectly fine.”

He had already turned on the kettle, you realized, and you grabbed the French press from where it sat ready to make the two of you a morning cup.

“Hey,” Harry brought your attention to him as you eyeballed the amount of coffee you were putting in. “I can do that – let me make you coffee for once.”

You bit back a smile, filling the press with the amount of coffee you liked before sitting back down. “It’s all yours,” you said, as the kettle clicked.

He turned away from the orange he was peeling, grabbing the kettle from where it sat to pour the hot water into the press.

You held your tongue, for about two seconds before clearing your throat. “A good way to make French press coffee is to pour a little bit in first – just enough to soak all the grounds and then pour the rest.”

He silently nodded, doing as you said and waiting a bit before pouring the rest. “You –”

You cut yourself off, watching as Harry lifted his head up to glance at you when you spoke, tousled hair falling over his forehead. “Hm?”

“It’s good to pour it a little slower…” you started slowly.

He laughed, loud from his chest. “Did you want to do it?”

“No, no! It doesn’t make that much of a difference, just some tips.” You let him finish making the coffee while you searched through some more cupboards for mugs.

Pulling out two ceramic ones, walking over to the fridge as you looked for anything to put into the coffee. Finding a small jug of oat milk, not surprised at the find as you took it out and shook the container a bit out of habit.

“I’m going to assume that you don’t take anything in your coffee…” you peered over at him as you poured some oat milk into what would be your mug.

“I don’t –” he cut himself off, as if about to ask why you would assume that but stopping himself as he remembered that you make him coffee multiple times a week.

He let the coffee in the press sit as he finished preparing the fruit, turning back to where you were leaning against the counter with an orange slice in hand. He wordlessly lifted the slice up towards your mouth, taking several steps forward until he was close in front of you.

“It’s not a tangerine, but…” he mumbled, a little smile playing on his lips as you met his gaze. Opening your mouth to accept the fruits, circling around it along with the tip of his fingers that you easily sucked into your mouth.

For some reason anytime he mentioned a citrus fruit you got butterflies in your stomach. You chewed the fruit as his hand fell from your mouth, thumb swiping under your bottom lip. The sweet flavour filling your mouth as his gaze never left yours. His hands fell to the counter on either side of you, boxing you in closer to him.

You raised a hand, taking hold of his jaw between your index finger and thumb, and pulled his face towards yours. His lips parted as did yours, your tongue licking into his mouth as your hand held him firmly. He tasted the citrus in your mouth, sharing the flavour of the fruit together as you kissed.

A hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as you slipped your fingers across his jawline until they were tugging in his hair.

He took another step forward, one foot resting between your two with his hips pushing against yours. He was holding you like he thought that you’d disappear if he let go, as your arms wrapped around him in the same way.

He’d already gotten you worked up, and you would let him take you right there if he wanted.

Fingertips poked under the sweatshirt over your body, nearly feigning innocence as his hands held the skin on your sides, before they were smoothing up until they were holding your breasts. Fingertips massaging into the skin, thumbs rubbing over your nipples in a way that made goosebumps erupt under the sweater.

Edging the article up higher on your body, exposing more of your skin until the underside of your breasts were visible.

“God,” he muttered against your mouth, lips sliding over your jaw as he hung his head lower. “Think I’m obsessed with you.”

Your hand followed the move of his head, as he dipped down lower so that he could press his mouth over your newly exposed chest. Sucking into the skin, hot licks until his teeth grazed over your nipple and you were pulling at his hair a bit tighter. He still cupped his palms around your breasts, enamoured with the way he maneuvered them and the way they felt in his hands.

Mummering his name, you pulled his attention back up to your face and he peered at you with heavy eyes. “Hm?”

“You should push down the press,” you angled your head to where the French press sat still on the counter across from the two of you.

His eyes held a laugh, as his hands fell from your skin and he nodded with a bite of his lip. Turning around from you only for the brief moment needed to slowly push the filter through the coffee before he was facing you from across the kitchen once again.

You followed, bypassing him and grabbing the two mugs that you had prepared for the coffee. Taking hold of the press, you poured two steamy cups of coffee. Silently handing him the one without anything in it, you tried to hide the way that your lips curved upwards by biting your lips together.

Harry grabbed the mug from your hands, bringing it up to his lips and took a small sip after blowing lightly over the surface.

“Careful,” your voice had fallen to a whisper in your proximity.

He only hummed, exaggeratedly smacking his lips together while placing the blue mug down on the counter next to him. “Best cup o’ coffee I’ve ever had.”

You let out what could only be called a giggle, unable to hold back your smile any longer. His hand looped around you once more, fitting into the small of your back to pull you close. Careful not to spill any coffee in the mug that you were holding, doing the same as he had and securing it down on the counter.

“Something tells me that might be a bit of an exaggeration…” you trailed off, free hand now resting over his shoulder.

“Hm,” he shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

His mouth sought out yours once again as you laughed under in his grasp. He pressed a peck over your mouth, staying close as he seemed to hesitate. “Did you want to spend the day?”

“Yeah,” you responded quickly. “If it’s not too much.”

“Can’t be,” he hummed. His head hung low between your neck and shoulder, butterfly kisses over your fabric covered skin. “Can’t ever have too much of you.” 

You locked the doors behind you, shaking the handle slightly to make sure it was truly locked before walking across the floor once more to head back behind the counter. Harry still lingered just at the unmarked line that separated the customer area from the staff area, leaning over the counter.

It had been almost a week since the night at the gallery.

Your days off had been spent with Harry, as he was true to his word and never seemed to be able to get enough of you. And the same sentiment was returned back to him. He had finally put his number in your phone, something the two of you had found funny about the fact that you went this far without even exchanging numbers.

Now, he kept you company as you closed up the café alone.

The fall rain always caused a small dip in customers, the shop never too busy, especially in the later hours of the afternoon.

“Do you have much left to do?”

You neared him by the counter, stepping past him and into the back. “Not too much – all of the main cleaning is done.”

“Can I help?” He had shut his little black sketchbook on the counter, pushing himself up from his elbows to near you.

“If you want…” you hummed happily, seeing him edge closer past the counter and into the staff only area. “Come on,” you giggled, tapping his arm for him to follow.

“Is this allowed?” He hesitated, making you turn back around.

You shrugged. “It’s not a big deal, I know my boss trusts me.”

That seemed to be enough for him, as he trailed behind you towards the espresso machine that you hadn’t finished cleaning.

“Tell me what to do, boss.”

Nudging his hip as he hovered near you, you shook your head with a laugh while reaching to grab the basket that had yet to be cleaned.

“You need to unscrew,” you spoke through your actions, grabbing the little flat screwdriver, and leaning down so that you could see under the grouphead on the machine, “the filter. To clean it all out.”

Grabbing the still hot filter with a rag, putting it in hot water. “And then you put this,” you spooned a small pile of cafiza into the flat filter in the basket. “And put it on a cleaning cycle. That’s kind of it…”

“What can I do?”

“If you want you can keep an eye on this,” you pointed to the lit button. “When it flashes you need to put it through the rinse cycle – just press it and it’ll go through.You could also pour hot water through the bottom, just to get everything inside rinsed out.”

Harry was quiet from next to you, nodding his head. You handed him the metal kettle, showing him where to fill it with hot water as you went to clean out the brew coffee pots. You worked through everything on autopilot, having gone through the same routine over and over that it came with no thought to you.

Keeping an eye on Harry with a smile tugging at your lips, watching as his brows pulled together as he tried to not spill any water other than where he needed to. Rinsing out the old coffee from the pots, you took a step away as the sink filled them with hot water.

“I had an idea…” you started, pulling Harry’s attention to you for a second.

Joining his side once more, you put your hand over his forearm. “I think that’s good,” you hummed. “No matter how much you clean there will always be grounds that find their way back – don’t worry.”

He nodded, putting down the little kettle as his back straightened with a twitch of a smile. “Anything you say, boss.”

You smiled through your words, giving his arm a little shove. “You got the paintings back from the gallery, right?”

Nodding, he kept his gaze on yours with curiosity in his eyes. The show (your show, as he called it) was a short-lived one, all the paintings were back in his apartment as he hadn’t put any of them for sale.

“Well I was thinking – and this is completely up to you – but what if you put one of them up in here?”

You saw his eyebrows rise in interest. “This wall here,” you motioned to the one behind him. “Is always empty. And it’s big and pretty uninteresting, so I was thinking if you wanted… you could but one of yours there.”

“For how long?”

“However long you’d like – it’d be like the café has it on loan.”

His smile grew. “And that would be okay?”

“I checked with the owner, she said that I can decorate the place however I’d like so…” you quickly leant over to the sink, shutting off the tap before facing him again. “It’s up to you.”

“You’ve already checked with her,” Harry grinned cheerfully, moving closer to you. “Thought this through, have you?”

You bit back a smile. “Yeah, I have.”

“I’d love to, I think it’s a great idea.”

“Really?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “I really do. Did you have one in mind already?”

“Well…” you paused. “I do – the big one of the café. With the yellow and the orange. I think I’d be perfect.”

He turned around, arms crossing over his chest as he faced the off-white empty wall. There were a few coffee stains towards the bottom that no one would notice unless they knew they were there.

“I think so too,” he nodded, glancing at you from over his shoulder.

You smiled widened. “Yeah?”

“Do you think I could go get it now – that we could put it up tonight?”

“That sounds perfect. Would you need help carrying it over?” You asked, as Harry was already walking around the counter to grab his jacket.

“It should be fine, I’ve carried it before.”

You nodded, watching as he grew more excited and ready to bolt out the door. “I can finish up closing here while you go get it.”

“Should I grab screws or tools or anything?”

“I’ve got some here – we have a little tool kit.”

He patted his pocket, grabbing his phone that was on the counter. “Lovely. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Before heading out towards the door, he moved around the corner of the counter so that he could grab a firm grasp of your jaw, tilting your head up to him. Leaning towards you, mouth hovering by yours as lips were barely touching. “Amazing idea, sunshine”

You nudge forward the slightest bit, fully connecting your lips in a lasting kiss before he headed into the cold air outside.

Finishing up your closing duties while he was gone, turning off all appliances that needed and screwing back in the filter once everything had been nice and soaked. You had already started to count the coins before closing, so the final cash out didn’t take too long.

You were doing some extra tasks to help out the opening staff for the following day, when a rattle of a knock was heard on the glass of the front door.

Jumping in your skin at first at the surprising noise, quickly calming down when you saw Harry waving at you through the window. Fast step over to the door, you propped it open for him so that he could slide the bigger than you remembered canvas inside.

He had it wrapped in brown paper to protect the outside, leaning it over the wall by the door as he ran a hand through his hair that had fallen over his forehead.

“That was fast,” you said, making sure you re-locked the door after letting him in.

“It’s close by,” he shrugged, grabbing hold of the wrapped canvas once more as you helped him bring it around the counter. “Are you all done with everything?”

“Yes – and I texted my boss and she said it's no problem to stay a bit later to put this up tonight.”

You grabbed the small folding step stool from the back, along with the tool kit that you hoped contained everything that was needed.

“Here we go,” you placed the box over the counter. “What did you need?”

“Screws, if you have them.” He hovered close next to you, watching as you rifled through the various things. “They’re better at holding up canvases – more stable.”

“Aha,” finding a little bag that contained a couple dozen screws, all of various lengths and sizes. Harry fished out a few of them, deciding that three should be enough for the frame to hang off of.

You watched as he vaguely measured out the wall and where to place the screws, promising that he knew what he was doing and wouldn’t end up with unnecessary holes in the wall.

Lifting yourself up to sit over the counter as he got the screws into the wall, occasionally leaning forward to hand him whatever he needed. Once he was done getting the wall ready, you watched as he hoisted the painting up in order to hang it up evenly.

“Does that look good?” He called with a glance over his shoulder, prompting you to step back and see if it sat leveled over the wall.

“Move it over a bit to the left,” you called, seeing as he followed your suggestion. “That’s good.”

He hopped off the short step ladder, joining your side to check how the painting looked on the wall. “It looks really good up there.”

You simply nodded, admiring the way it already made the space warmer. It was large, covering a good chunk of the otherwise bland space.

“What gave you the idea?”

Falling to the side to rest your hip against the counter, Harry followed your motions as if you were tethered together and he couldn’t stand being too far away.

“It’s kind of a full circle – no?” You hummed, resting a hand over the counter that he quickly picked up in his, mindlessly playing with your hand as you spoke. “I mean the first time you came in, you asked me how to get your art up there. And now…”

Trailing off, the thought finishing itself as you had gotten one of his paintings on the walls indefinitely.

He was quiet for a moment, a moment long enough that it had you glancing over at him. He had his eyes trained to the side of your face, a dreamy look in his eyes.

“What?” You mumbled with a little laugh, when he didn’t say anything.

He shook his head, eyes flicking between yours and the newly hung painting. “Nothing, it’s just, I – I adore you, you know that?”

You sighed blissfully, a smile playing on your mouth. “Hm.”

“Hm?” He repeated back to you with a laugh, turning around you so that he could face you. His hips bumping with yours, he made it impossible for you to avoid his stare. “What do you mean by ‘hm’?”

He was invading your every sense, a welcomed invasion to you. Dipping his head down to skim his nose over your jaw, letting your hands fall to their place over his shoulders.

“How do you feel?” He breathed against your skin, lips nudging over you. Your hand pressed over his chest, pushing him back the slightest bit so that you could see him.

You played with the hem around the neckline of his shirt, looking into his heavy gaze. “Can’t get enough of you.”

He blinked slowly, forehead resting against yours. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you hummed happily, palms sliding over his shirt covered chest. “I don’t want… any more miscommunication, you know? I wanted to know, just how things are with us…?”

A smile teased his lips. “Are you asking me if we’re together?”

“Well…,” you hesitated, before straightening out your spine. “I am.”

“Do you want to be together?”

“You’re really good at turning questions back on me, you know that?”

He laughed, forehead moving from yours as he brought hand to cup your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheek. “You do it more than I do, know that?”

He followed his words with a nudge of your nose with his mouth, quick lick over the skin.

“Stop that,” you mumbled, turning your head away from him but not having much room to do so as he kept a grasp around your jaw.

“Stop what?” He brushed over your cheek, teasing you with light kisses over your face.

“Just,” you dug your fingers into the fabric of his shirt, nudging him against you as he pulled his face away from yours for a brief moment. “Kiss me.”

His lips curved upwards once more, eyelids fluttering as he leant back in. “Whatever you say.”

Slipping your hands around his neck, pulling him closer to you as your smiling mouths met. He easily held you against him, free hand wrapping around your back. Lips easily parted as soft kisses were shared. Breaking apart for a brief second as he nudged your upper lip with his before firmly capturing your mouth.

Nails tapping along his jawline, pulling him as close as possible as your mouth followed the path of your fingers. Tips of his hair tickling your nose, your teeth grazed his earlobe before whispering. “I’m yours.”

A shaky breath was heard from his still parted mouth, moving his head back so that he could meet your eyes. “Everything –” he said “– the world is yours, know that? Including me.”

He didn’t waste another second, mouth trapping yours once again after your shared confessions. He pushed himself oh so close, drawing out a quiet whine from your throat as his lips grew greedy.

Peppering kisses to the corner of your mouth, teeth grazing over your chin before making a line of wet kisses over your jaw. A Kate Bush song played on the speakers, you didn’t have the capacity to remember it at the moment.

Eyes briefly parting open, remembering where you were. “You know everyone outside can see us, right?”

He paused at your words, glancing up at the slightly fogged windows that covered the front of the café. The sky hard turned a dark shade of blue, bright lights coming from inside of the café meaning anyone walking by outside could see you. “Not too worried about them.”

You shook with a quiet laugh, a brief shove to his chest as he kept you hugged to his body. “Plus the counter hides our bottom half anyway so –”

“Harry,” you laughed louder now, shaking your head. “My boss could check her security cameras at any moment.”

“Fine, fine” he stuck his bottom lip out.

Your fingertips traced mindless trails over his neck, pressing a lasting kiss over his mouth to keep him quiet.

Harry fell from your front, keeping an arm around your back with his side still pressed close to yours. “Looks good up there,” he hummed lightly, nodding his head towards the painting.

“You painted it.” You followed his eyeline, glancing up at the large canvas.

“But you inspired it – really mean it you know.”

“Mean what?”

“The world is yours.”

Your head fell against his shoulder, taking a moment to rest together as both of you faced the painting. Arms crossing as you held each other close, the warm light of the café flowing through the windows and to the street outside.

The two of you nearly mirrored the painting that hung proudly, soft touches of affection that could only be seen from outside if someone was really paying attention. If one were to be walking past on the street, they would see nothing but a warm reflection of growing love. And just as the title of the painting: you could stay there for hours. And you did.

la fin. (for now).

thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed my little story, it really means the world to me💞  come by and chat if you’d like, and until next time !