#if that's not a concentrated effort then the stars lined up to make him look like a toolbag

[inkchwe]

so high school | 𝖑𝖍𝖘

୨୧ pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 6.8k ୨୧ genre: fluff, smut ୨୧ tags: basketballplayer!heesung, nerd!reader, tutor!au, high school au, oral (f + m receiving), penetration (all characters are of age!), light choking ୨୧ synopsis: You and your boyfriend are complete opposites on paper—you, the girl hidden inside a book, and Heeseung, the star of the basketball team—but it feels so right every time you’re together.

Heeseung at the free-throw line, certain he will make the basket and win the championship, turns to look at you in the stands. The sounds of his coach, taunts from the opposing team, encouragement of his teammates, and commotion of the final game of the season all fade into the background. To him, all that matters besides the ball in his hands is you.

You, amongst the others in the crowd with their hearts in their mouths, have no fears for your boyfriend. The star player who’s going to make history has never given you doubts before in his talents. All you can do is smile, incredibly proud and incredulous at the thought that he is all yours and nobody else’s.

It’s almost unimaginable how the two of you found each other, coming from completely different worlds. But like all stories, similar to the ones you’ve read since childhood, the story of you and Heeseung has a clear beginning…

AUGUST

“Do you ever stop to—I don’t know—not read?” Jungwon asks, jotting down notes in his notebook.

You giggle and flip the page. “It’s the last book on Choi’s summer reading list. Besides,” you retort, looking directly at your best friend, “how else would I be able to read and still remember what you just said to me if I didn’t practice?”

“Fuck off.” You lightly knock his shoulder with yours.

Even though it was still very early in the school year, you still had a lot to concentrate  on with the month coming to an end. Like the first novel Mrs. Choi selected on her extensive reading list. You planned to discuss it with the members of the school’s book club, your notes already tucked in your backpack for today’s Friday meeting.

Now, sitting with Jungwon in the hallway as you eat your lunch, your focus is solely on finishing the last fifty pages of the last book in the list Mrs. Choi created. Jungwon closes his notebook and gets up from his spot next to you. “Alright, I gotta head to Chem.  I’ll see you after school!” With a wink, he runs down the hallway and disappears down the corner.

Who you don’t expect to pop up next to disturb the sudden quiet of the surrounding area is Lee Heeseung, star shooting guard for the school’s basketball team. You never spoke to him before, but his reputation and family’s legacy preceded him. His brother was the shooting guard for the team years ago, breaking numerous records before he graduated. Now, Heeseung’s definitely filling his brother’s shoes and then some.

As a person, however, you know nothing about the boy at all. This year, though, you shared the same English class with Mrs. Choi. She cared little for his extracurriculars or persona around campus; what mattered to her was the effort of her students and the quality of the classwork.

Heeseung passes you by on his way towards his destination, not sparing a glance. You sit attentively as he knocks on Mrs. Choi’s classroom door.

She answers after a moment, a somber smile on her lips. “What can I do for you, Mr. Lee?”

He clears his throat and asks her, “You saw my message and I—“

“I am aware, Mr. Lee. My response still stands. Is there something else you need?” Mrs. Choi sees you out of the corner of her eye, but she doesn’t acknowledge your snooping.

“I will do anything to correct my last assignment. Please,” Heeseung begs.

“Mr. Lee, the cutoff for submissions was last week. I’m sorry, but your grade is final.” She sighs and looks at her watch.

“There’s nothing I can do to bring it up before the first game?” Heeseung asks, his voice growing thin from his frustration. He’s not rude, but clearly disappointed he isn’t getting his way with his big eyes and pleading words.

“How about this? I’ll tell Coach Sung you’re working on a paired project to make up the grade.”

“Perfect.” Heeseung breathes a sigh of relief before he takes in the rest of her sentence. “Wait, who’s my partner?”

Mrs. Choi extends her arm out to point in your direction. Immediately, you want to tuck yourself in your book and hide. You did not intend for your interest in their conversation to put you right in the middle of it, and now you wish you hadn’t feigned curiosity at all.

“She’s one of my best students, so you’re in great hands.” She turns her head so both you and Heeseung can hear her. “I’ll send both of you the information for the project later today.”

You didn’t notice Heeseung had kept his focus on you until you broke your stare-off with Mrs. Choi. Her lips are upturned in a secret smirk when you turn your attention to him.

Heeseung isn’t bad to look at, the definition of his muscles peeking out of his shirt in multiple places and his brown hair falling into his face. Each piece of his physical being represents the epitome of a Greek god’s form. But the fact neither of you had ever interacted up to this point is what scares you more than his intimidatingly good looks.

When Mrs. Choi gently closes the door, Heeseung awkwardly walks over to your position, towering over you. Ironically, his presence physically embodies your feelings towards him, this stranger now being shoved into your life.

“I’m Heeseung.”

You give him a close-lipped smile and extend your hand out to him, your name leaving your lips immediately. Displaying fake confidence, you hope he can’t tell how terrified you are.

His eyes brighten when his hand touches yours. You stand up, hand still in his, and the feeling of his palm against yours causes you to fumble your next words. “S-so I guess I should give you my number. I mean so once we get the assignment—“

Heeseung smirks. “Usually girls flirt a little more before asking for my number.”

You scoff and tuck your book closer. “I was offering to give you mine, actually. For educational purposes.”

The noise of his laughter fills the small corridor. “Right.”

You roll your eyes, suddenly feeling annoyance creeping under your skin. “Well, if it’s that hard to swap information, you can find me after school in the library.” You walk away, but Heeseung follows quickly behind.

“I have practice once the last bell rings.”

You look at him with serious eyes, not bothering to stop your stride towards the stairs. “Tell Coach you can’t make it.”

“Are you nuts?” Heeseung says, eyes wide.

You smirk. “You have to get your grade up to play, right?”

You watch the clock in the library with scrutiny. Members of the book club have been gone for half an hour, but you chose to stay behind. School let out an hour ago, and yet you’re still holding out hope Heeseung will come. But every minute that goes by proves you have to face facts: you’re now forced to collaborate with a stereotypical jock.

Mr. Kim, the head librarian, puts the disorganized books on the shelves as you tap your pencil on the table. “Waiting for someone? You don’t usually stick around this late,” Mr. Kim says with a smile.

You grin back, the sentiment not reaching your eyes. “You could say that.”

After another ten minutes of silence, you give up. You begin packing up your belongings, shaking your head and mumbling to yourself the entire time. Curse your interest in the guy and his lack of care for his academics. No wonder his grade was in the tank already. What was the point of athletics if he didn’t have other prospects to fall back on?

Just as you’re walking out of the library, Heeseung runs into you. Sweat’s dripping from his forehead and his breaths are labored. Clearly, he chose basketball over your project. You want to punch him for putting you both in this position.

“I swear I was going to blow off practice,” Heeseung says, but he can see your doubt in his words on your face.

“Sure. How about this? Figure out how to do the project on your own.” You press your body into his to push him out of your way. He follows in suit and rubs the spot you shoved, pretending to be wounded.

It only fuels your ire. You’ve only spoken to the jerk twice and you’re already tired of him treating every word you say and feeling you have like a joke. “Is failing that amusing to you?”

Heeseung’s expression immediately goes cold. “I’m not failing.”

“Sure. So Choi’s just doing this to torture you.”

He weighs his response in his mind before answering. “I may not be perfect, but Choi is really hard on grading.”

“That first assignment was just about what your future looks like after high school.” You push your backpack over your arm. “Excuse her for thinking you had plans outside of throwing a ball around a field.”

That laugh of his may just be the end of your life. He chuckles hard and puts a hand out to stop you. “First of all, that’s football.” He tries to make you look at him directly, but you refuse, too angry to give into what he wants. 

He continues anyway. “Second, basketball is my life. Past, present, future, okay? Without it, I don’t even know where I’d be.”

His voice is sincere, more honest than it’s been before. Regardless, your understanding and disappointment is evident. “Don’t you think that that’s the problem?”

“It hasn’t been one before. Suddenly I say it out loud and it’s an issue?” Heeseung’s voice raises a decibel, clearly agitated and back to his cold exterior.

If he wants to fight about this, you’re game.

“No,” you say, matching his vocal level. “The issue is that your focus is solely on basketball when there’s more important things in life than a dumbass court and sweaty guys trying to make touchdowns.” 

“You’re mixing up your sports analogies, angel.” Heeseung steps closer, testing your boundaries. Your chest heaves up and down, your breath labored. You may just slap him if he gets closer.

“You know what I mean.”

“Are you going to help me or not?” A fraction of his expression slips. His eyes challenge you in both irritation and anxiety. The bravado’s merely a mask for the fear that he’ll lose the one thing he wants the most in this world. And did you have it in you to be the reason he couldn’t have it?

You sigh and rub your palm across your forehead. “Tomorrow, meet me at the marketside pier. 8 AM. Take it or leave it.”

He releases a humorless chuckle. “You’re not gonna make this easy are you?”

“Not on your life.”

Heeseung is there at one of the pier’s wooden picnic tables with his materials sprawled out when you arrive at 7:45. You weren’t expecting for him to be there on time, much less earlier than you. The sun reflects off of his hair, turning the brown curls almost orange. Like the first time you saw him, you can’t help but be reminded that he is painstakingly attractive.

You give him a shy smile and put your backpack down next to you.

“I can tell you’re surprised,” Heeseung says with a small smile.

“A bit, yeah.” You unzip your bag to grab your English textbook. “I thought on the weekends you typically do…’fitness stuff.’” He laughs at your air quotes.

“Well, to be honest, I wake up at 6 AM every morning for drills with my dad.”

Your eyes go wide. “Wow.”

“Yeah. Like you said, my sole focus is on that damn ball,” Heeseung says, opening his own textbook. “But I want to change that.”

“So you can keep playing,” you remind him, teasing the poor guy.

“Half true,” Heeseung says. “But I shouldn’t have left you hanging, yesterday.”

You nod. “I appreciate your apology.” You grab a pencil from your bag, pushing on the eraser until the lead pops up. “And I shouldn’t have been so judgmental. You have to be good at stuff besides basketball, even if it’s not studying.”

“Hey! I’m doing well in all my other classes, thank you very much.” You both share a minute of laughter. “But, to be honest, I do like to sing.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, Troy Bolton.”

“For real! One day, I’ll take you to karaoke. I won’t make fun of you if you can’t keep up with me.”

“Okay, we’ll see.” You direct his focus back on to the page. “Now, onto Shakespeare.”

SEPTEMBER

Although Heeseung took his sweet, laborious time to translate and understand Shakespeare’s old English, the project went off without a hitch. Mrs. Choi was even surprised herself, in disbelief you pulled such an expansive and well-thought analysis out of the quintessential jock.

Now, it seemed the best next step to keep Heeseung on the right track was to sit him right next to you. Your initial partnership continued to benefit him in both his success in English and focus on academics, possibly for the first time in his high school career.

Better than that, he may have found a new friend in you that he wouldn’t have had otherwise.

By the end of one Tuesday class, Heeseung asks you to have lunch with him and his friends, a request that makes your previous seating buddy in English, Yujin, freak out.

Both her and Jungwon corner you on your way out when you tell them the news.

“No fucking way,” she whispers excitedly, slapping you on the back with vigor.

“That hurt,” you moan.

“Are you prepared?” Jungwon asks, smirking.

“Prepared for what?”

“The lion’s den, dude! You’re gonna be with not just his douche friends, but also the cheerleaders, other sports players…be prepared for the worst,” Jungwon grumbles.

“Oh shut up, Won!” Yujin threatens to hit him too, but he retracts. “Have fun on your pseudo first date.”

“It’s not a date!”

By the time lunch comes around, you hold yours with shaky hands, searching the lunch courtyard for the jock’s table. You usually sat with Jungwon or Yujin in the hallway of the English department to eat. Now, you’re a small fish in a big pond, waiting to be eaten alive.

Was it, in fact, a date, like your friends hypothesized? Did you have to try and impress Heeseung more than normal? Did you want Heeseung to take you on a date, real or fake, to begin with?

"Hey!"

Heeseung waves you over with a confident but over-exaggerated arm, flapping it wildly so you notice. He didn't need to do that, though; you could pick out his voice in any crowd.

You walk over with a smile and sit down, feeling small next to the strangers you had not met until this moment. The basketball team's not unwelcome, but they are awkward at your sudden presence at their usual lunch table, even if Heeseung made it known beforehand that you would be hanging out with them to eat.

He says your name and introduces you to his friends. "And that's Sunghoon, Jeongsong, and Jaeyun." You recognize the last two, Jay and Jake. Jake, the strikingly blonde one, has Chemistry with you this year. He smiles and tips his soda can at you in acknowledgement.

"Hee was telling us you’ve been saving him this term in English. Choi can be a pain in the ass, am I right?" Sunghoon and Jeongsong share a laugh, but you bristle at the comment.

"Not really," you say. "Choi sponsors my book club, so we have a good relationship. I think that's why she wanted me to whip Heeseung into shape in the first place." You elbow Heeseung in the side, and he grins in response.

"She's probably right."

"Book club kid, huh?" Jake asks. "Haven't been one of those since elementary school."

Jake's comments make the entire team laugh. Your cheeks turn pink and Heeseung takes a sip from his drink, his posture stiffening in the process.

"It's not a bad thing though," Jake interjects amidst their laughter. "Books are fun."

"A bit nerdy, though," Sunghoon comments.

A girl next to Sunghoon smacks him hard in the arm, but he just pokes his tongue at her.

Your anxiety spikes sitting there with all of these people, your gut feelings a reminder that they’re all a part of Heeseung’s world, not yours.

You clear your throat and stand up from the table. “I forgot to say, Hee, I have to do something for Choi anyway.” Heeseung’s face turns down at the corners. The only audible response you receive is from Jay and Sunghoon in the form of snickers.

”Run along, pet,” Sunghoon comments with a smirk.

You hope your eyes give the offense you won’t bother saying out loud. Fuck off, asshole.

When you make it to your usual lunch spot, Yujin and Jungwon are surprised to see you walking down the hallway.

”What happened?” Yujin asks.

”Exactly what Won said was going to happen,” you confess, sitting down in a criss-cross position beside her. “Now give me your chips.”

When the end of the day comes around, Heeseung catches you on your usual trek to the bus. “You’re forgiven, by the way.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “What did I do?”

”You left me alone with my shithead teammates! I needed you there for backup, y’know.” He smirks and grabs your backpack from your shoulder to put around his arm. “I’m sorry about them. Sunghoon, mostly.”

”Can’t believe you’re friends with that guy,” you mumble.

”He’s the only one who I’m not friends with, truthfully. The others are cool. They’re just not used to new people.”

”I never would have guessed.”

Heeseung’s laugh is hearty, with a dazzling smile to match. You can almost forget the heap of embarrassment you felt earlier when you look at him like this, carefree and youthful.

“Anyway, let me give you a ride,” he offers, pointing to the senior parking lot. His car is freshly washed, its coat of paint identical to the school’s colors of blue with silver accents.

”What will your friends say?” you ask with a fake gasp.

”Fuck them. Besides, you’re also one of my friends. Now let’s go.” He takes your hand to walk in the direction of his car, not releasing your palm until you’re at his passenger side door.

As you give him directions, your mind goes back to the labels you had been running through in your mind all day. Were you Heeseung’s friend? Yes. Did you want to be more? Surely he didn’t just ask anyone to have lunch with him and his friends if he didn’t have other intentions, right? So, in that case, did yours match his?

A part of you wants to say yes, but the rational piece keeps you in check. It’s ridiculous to expect more than a friendship. How could you when it was so obvious your worlds were so far from each other, your friendship a simple fluke? You were grateful for his presence in your life, knowing without him it would be a bit darker, but would it last?

Yet here you were. Sitting happily in his car, hair blowing in the wind as his thumb grazes the outside of your hand, you try to enjoy all the time you do have together.

OCTOBER

”This is ridiculous!”

”Come on, just try it!”

”When did I ever say I was good at sports?” You groan, holding the ball in your hands with nervous fingers. The basketball court at your local park is occupied only by you and Heeseung, but it feels as though there’s a thousand people in the metal stands watching you, waiting for you to mess up.

”You said if I passed the last test you would let me show you how to make a free throw.” Heeseung has his hands in his pockets, his letterman jacket flapping in the autumn wind.

“If I suck at this, you’re never going to talk to me again. Just watch.” You try to dribble the ball across the court, but it falls between your legs before you can travel any further.

Heeseung puts his face behind his hand, clearly chuckling to himself. You scoff at him and the response you saw coming the second he put the ball in your hands. “See? I told you you would think I’m embarrassing!”

He raises his hands in defense. “I’m sorry, okay? It’s just cute, that’s all.”

”’Cute’ is probably the nicest way you could say I’m embarrassing.” You kick the basketball in his direction. He catches it without any effort, his face still shaped in a state of enjoyment.

”I said cute because I meant cute, you dork.” He steps to the free-throw line and motions for you to join him. You do, grumbling and grunting the entire way.

”Now, you have to relax. The only way you have half a shot at making the basket is if you stop tensing up.” He hands you the ball again and steps behind you.

He puts his hands on your hips. his palms soft against your hoodie. You can practically feel the heat of his skin through the material of your clothing, and you hope he can’t tell how much your heartbeat has spiked from him being so close to you.

”Next thing is to bend your knees. They can’t be locked up.” You listen to his words, trying not to focus on how his body is making yours react. You may be imagining it, but even his voice sounds a bit breathless from the small distance between yourself and him.

His lips are ghosting over your ear when he says, ”Now shoot.”

You release the ball from your hands, hoping the angle of your throw and Heeseung’s directions will prove you’re partially competent. 

And sure enough, the basket makes it in a single whoosh. You turn in Heeseung’s grasp, releasing a happy cheer. “That was amazing!”

You feel the rush of the shot in your veins, but suddenly the only thing that makes your body hum in pleasure is the sudden crash of Heeseung’s lips against yours.

Unsure how to react, you stand there frozen in place as his mouth moves on its own accord. But slowly, surely, happily, you fall deeply into his embrace. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and feel the press of his tongue against your mouth, begging for entrance.

You comply, letting the feeling of him and the thrill of this private moment in both of your worlds fill you to the brim with quiet pleasure and happiness.

[LHS] Can we talk, please?

[LHS] Did I do something wrong??

[LHS] IDC if you don’t respond. I’ll keep texting until you say something…

[LHS] Don’t leave me hanging :(

You sigh and throw your phone to the other side of the bed, tucking your comforter closer to your chest. Deciding to stay home from school was probably not the best way to handle your problems, but just because you’re smart doesn’t mean you’re sensible all the time.

This weekend’s excursion with Heeseung was beautiful, no doubt. But the fears continued to creep in with little regard for how happy he made you that day or all the days that came before it. Would how he felt about you last any longer than his basketball season? Did he entertain this simply for the fact that it was entertainment and nothing more? 

The thoughts had been too much when you said goodbye to him on your doorstep with another hasty, giddy kiss and all the hours following it. Maybe you were self-sabotaging, but it was better to manage expectations now than be crushed in the aftermath.

When Yujin calls you during lunch, you have half a mind to ignore it. You answer anyway to avoid your friends thinking something drastic happened.

”Hello,” you mumble, the effects of your late morning nap hitting you.

”Dude, Heeseung’s on a tear today. He even asked Jungwon where you were, and I didn’t even think he knew the kid existed. What the hell happened on Saturday?”

Before you can respond, you hear the sound of your doorbell. “I gotta go. I’ll tell you later.” You hang up, hastily grabbing your fuzzy robe before running downstairs.

You don’t bother looking through the peephole to see who it is, but you curse yourself for not doing so when you’re confronted with Heeseung. He’s a sweaty and panting mess, but he doesn’t care for his appearance. His face morphs into relief when he sees you staring back at him.

”Thank God,” he says before stepping closer to you. He runs his hand over your forehead, frowning. “You’re not sick.”

You shake your head.

”So, you just ignore me all weekend and then don’t show up to school today?”

You sigh. “I didn’t know what to say when I saw you.”

He gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing. “So you chose not to see me at all? Was kissing me that terrible?

”No!” You run a frustrated hand through your hair, the spot in your hallway suddenly too cramped. You push him back outside and close the door behind you. “I don’t regret it at all. And I’d do it again if I could.”

Heeseung smirks at that, clearly happy with your response. “So, what’s the problem?”

”The problem is that when you get bored of me, things won’t go back to normal for me like they will for you, Hee. You may think this is a game but—“

Heeseung’s sudden laugh is marked with a bitterness. His eyes grow serious, so much so your words stop short because of his stone expression

”Do you think that little of me?”

Your body tenses at his words, unsure how to respond. You have never thought of him as lesser than once, not since getting to know him. But maybe only looking at your feelings regarding your relationship compromised his own in the process.

He steps closer, your faces an inch apart. “Two months ago, I didn’t realize how much my life was going to change because of you. All I thought about before was basketball. And now, you’re one of the only things outside of that damn game that matters to me. When I haven’t talked to you or seen you for too long it’s like there’s this rock in my gut that I can’t get rid of. I kissed you because I wanted to, not for fun or because it’s this momentary thing.

”So, if you still think I’m going to get bored of you in a few days or weeks or months, then you really aren’t as smart as I thought you were, angel. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Breathless would be too small of a word to describe how his speech affects you. You feel the same buzz of his kiss from a few days throughout your entire body from his words alone. It makes every worry and fear that has plagued you evaporate, replaced with his promises and all the reasons you should jump in headfirst without another thought.

So you do.

You kiss him hard, crashing into his lips and hoping all of the feelings he harbors reflect in the actions of your mouth. You hold onto him with your hands on his neck and the smoothness of your lips in a beautiful rhythm with each other.

Whatever happens next, you know there’s no turning back now.

NOVEMBER

“And Sim, our prime point-guard, passes to Lee. Lee has ten seconds to make another three pointer and win the game. Will he do it? Time to find out!” Kim Sunwoo screams into the microphone, broadcasting the highlights of the semi-final game to the many listeners not attending in-person.

Lucky for you, you have the perfect spot in the stands to watch Heeseung make the winning basket and lead the team to victory.

The crowd roars when your boyfriend secures the team’s spot in the championship game. His teammates lift him up above their heads and shoulders, chanting his name and holding him with all of their strength. Heeseung immediately searches the crowd for you, his excitement fueling his newfound focus.

When he does see you, clapping your hands and cheering with the rest of the bystanders, he kisses the inside of his palm and shoots it in your direction like he’s making another basket. Your heart squeezes at the gesture, but you only blush and wink.

Ever since that day on your doorstep, you can’t seem to separate yourself from him or the feelings he stirs up inside of you. The thought and reality of not seeing or hearing from him for too long immediately dampens your spirits, just like Heeseung described to you when he confessed. Jungwon calls you “lovesick fools” every time you both are in his presence, but it’s not that. The love you feel for your boyfriend is one that strengthens every sense, impulse, and desire. Without it and him, that’s when you feel the weakest. And every time Heeseung smiles at you or holds you close, you can tell he feels the same.

Whether your worlds were the exact same or as different as they possibly could be, you both made your own perfectly fit for just the two of you.

The outside world has to creep in every once in a while, though.

At the end of the night, Heeseung’s arm is wrapped perfectly around you as you walk. You discuss your shared plans for the night and subsequent weekend since your parents are away at a work conference. Heeseung stops short when he sees his father waiting at his car with crossed arms.

“Good job, Hee,” He says first and foremost. “Saw you lost a bit of steam in the third quarter, though. We’ll have to do some more conditioning before the final.”

And there it was. The judgment you saw so often in conversations between Heeseung and his father that made you ache for the boy you loved. As his father, he should’ve been proud to see his sons succeeding, one of them off and playing for a world-renowned team and the other on his way there. Instead, all they received was judgment. It wasn’t your place, but you couldn’t wait for the day Heeseung stood up to him.

“At least I made the winning basket, right?” Heeseung shrugs off the criticism with a laugh and holds you closer. “We have to go eat, so—“

“Of course.” His father moves out of your way. “Lovely to see you again, darling,” He says to you with a small smile as he opens the passenger door for you. You return his greeting, suddenly uncomfortable with how close he is.

On your drive to your house, you try to help Heeseung destress with a hand on his thigh. “Don’t let him get to you,” you say sadly.

He smiles and gives you a knowing stare. “I’ve been dealing with him my whole life. He doesn’t have that power anymore.” He takes your hand from his thigh to hold it tightly in his own palm. “Besides, I’m one step closer to the championship and I got my girl next to me. Nothing’s getting in the way of my good night.”

You set your backpacks down at the door when you step inside your house. Heeseung follows you to the kitchen. While you’re finding the flier with the number of your favorite takeout restaurant, Heeseung presses his lips to your neck. The trail of his kisses going from the back of your ear to the start of your collarbone makes you shiver.”

“Hee,” you warn him. “We won’t be able to eat if you keep distracting me.”

“Food is the second priority,” he responds, lips feathering your skin. “Right now, we need to celebrate the championship.”

“The championship is still three weeks away.”

“If we both know I’m going to win, what’s the point of delayed gratification?” He pulls the sleeve of your shirt down to expose the top of your shoulder, kissing that area too to make your body thrum with pleasure.

“Speaking of that…” You turn to face Heesung, pressing your back against the counter. “I guess we can celebrate something tonight besides your impending win.”

Heeseung raises an eyebrow.

“I got early acceptance to Sky.”

Heeseung’s eyes immediately light up at your announcement. He pulls you in by the waist and spins you around the tiny space between your kitchen island and the fridge.

When the topic of college came up, it was as good a time as any for the two of you to discuss your future plans with each other. As fate would have it, Heeseung planned to play for Sky University’s basketball team next year, and you were waiting on your official acceptance letter when you both started dating.

Now, Heeseung would have the two most important things to him in the next chapter of his life. The boy’s over the moon, as any other person would be.

Heeseung lifts you over his shoulder, immediately heading in the direction of the stairs to take you to your bedroom. He laughs off your mock protest.

He knows for certain he’s in love with you. It may not be the perfect time to say it, especially before he’s about to ravish you, but the perfect time will come when it feels right.

He doesn’t say it when he strips you bare for only his eyes as he kisses you senseless, shocked and grateful your body is for him and him alone to see and cherish. He doesn’t say it as you kiss every inch of his bare chest to send him into a rambling mess of praises and curses.

Somehow, stupidly, the words slip out when your mouth is wrapped around his cock, tongue flat against the underside of his tip as he feels the back of your throat against him.

“Fuck, I love you so much.”

The air stills, both your bodies going rigid at the sudden confession that has just left his lips. But, instead of running scared, you take your mouth off of him and stare deeply into his eyes, smiling wide. “What’d you say?”

Heeseung breathes out a sigh of relief, suddenly taking your face in his hands and kissing you deeply. “I love you. I’ve loved you since the second I saw you in that hallway. I just didn’t know it yet.”

You giggle and press another kiss to his lips. He sees a tear leave your eye, and he wipes it away gently with his thumb. “I love you, too, Heeseung.”

You fall back into a steady rhythm of kissing and touching, Heeseung’s hands roaming the skin of your stomach, the swell of your breasts, and the cleft between your thighs, making you moan.

“Let me show you how much I love you,” Heeseung whispers against your lips.

He lays you flat on your back, kissing what areas he hasn’t touched yet with his hands. He needs you to know, in every moment, he chooses you and will never stop choosing to be with you.

If he had to make the choice to either give up the game or you, he would choose the former in a heartbeat. His dad, his friends, and even fate may say it’s young love and you haven’t been in his life as long as basketball has, but they don’t see him the way you do.

Even if he doesn’t say it out loud, he knows he doesn’t have to. 

When Heeseung finally presses his lips to your clit, kissing the nub with adoration, your legs shake at the contact. You instantly run your fingers into his hair. “Fuck,” you curse, the word rarely slipping from your lips save for moments like these.

The first time you had been together, Heeseung didn’t know exactly how to touch you without being terrified it was too much. But now he knows all the ways to turn you into a beautiful mess.

He licks languidly across your center and through your folds, keeping the perfect pace for you to ride your hips against his mouth. He inserts a finger into your entrance after coating the digit in the arousal already pooling at your center. You, typically so put together, are ready to fall apart at the simple press of his mouth against you.

Heeseung knows he can get you off this way, without question. And most nights, he doesn’t mind when you’re the only one who receives pleasure. But tonight, you moan out a request that he can’t say no to.

“Heeseung, please. I want you inside me when I come.” He doesn’t have to be told what to do twice when it’s the best command he’s heard all night.

He takes your mouth in his, holding your jaw in his hand and slightly applying pressure to the side of your neck. A half-empty moan leaves your lips at the sudden contact. To him, the sounds that you make are their own form of poetry, better than anything you’ve read to him all year.

Heeseung quickly grabs a foil packet from your bedside drawer to put on himself, protection being the one thing you can’t forget in the midst of your desire for each other. Lining himself up with your entrance, he thinks you could not look more beautiful with your half-lidded eyes and eager hands grabbing onto his hips to finally push him inside of you.

When he does ease in, he swallows the curse prepared to leave your mouth with his lips. It’s an indescribable feeling, the stretch and pull of your walls taking him in completely. Although you’ve been together many times before this night, it’s still a novelty Heeseung does not take for granted.

He takes his time establishing a rhythm, loving the pants and whimpers you emit because of him and for him. He holds his hand on your throat, his thumb going into your mouth for you to wrap your lips around in a lewd manor.

“Ah, fuck,” you say as he snaps his hips, filling you to the hilt. “Just like that.”

He feels his orgasm in his gut, threading further up his body as he snaps his hips harder and faster, moving in and out at a faster pace than normal. You don’t mind, scratching lines down his back as you cling to him. You’re both reduced to a heap of I love you’s and satisfied sounds, and it could not be more perfect.

“Fuck, Hee, I’m coming,” you say in the form of a promise, one so precious he wants to hear it every day.

The flutter of your walls around him as you fall apart pushes him to his own end, releasing into the condom with a guttural moan. He kisses you deeply before separating from you, running to the bathroom to throw the remnants of your lovemaking into the toilet and clean himself up.

You hold your arms out to him, ready to have him back by your side. He grins and kisses the crown of your forehead.

“Think about all the nights we can do this next year,” Heeseung whispers into the dark.

“I can’t wait,” you respond, pressing a kiss to his sweaty chest. “I love you.”

He grins happily to himself, the words a thousand times more powerful leaving your mouth. “I love you, too, angel.”

With your body curled into his chest, your heartbeats matching in tempo, he thinks no amount of championship wins could compare to the love he’s found in you.

DECEMBER

The basketball feels light as air in Heeseung’s hands, incomparable to the feeling in his chest looking at you. His teammates can tell he’s staring directly at your position in the stands. They wonder how his mind is still so occupied by you, even amongst the sea of spectators waiting for him to either succeed or screw up

Little do they realize, you’re the exact reason he’s going to win the title.

As he looks in your direction, he takes the shot without second-guessing himself. He hears the faint gasps of some attendees and even his coach, but the following swish of the basket in the hoop tells Heeseung all he needs to hear. And all he needs to see is your beautiful, proud face as the gym explodes into cheers.

You’re the best and truest thing he has in this world. He knows he���s a champion, in both the traditional and figurative sense. With you by his side, he’ll always feel like the winner of every game he’ll ever play.

[bigtedbear]

“ 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭: 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝗼𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 “

𝐩𝐫𝗼𝗺𝐩𝐭: 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝗼𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝗼𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞, 𝐲𝗼𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝗺 𝐭𝗼 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐚𝐧! 𝐝𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐠 𝗼𝐮𝐭 𝗼𝐟 𝐲𝗼𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝

content warning: 18+ NSFW, 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈, gay sex, anal penetration, monster anatomy (specifically dragon anatomy), unsafe sex (cover your stump before you hump), mutual pining, mutual obsession, yandere themes, male reader, amab reader, yandere reader, yandere character, talks of mating rituals, biting, just a wee bit of blood, codependency, obsessive behavior, a lot of concerning talk but if you look at it from afar it's actually not that bad they just match each other's freak really well, march 7th, himeko, and caelus as the best enabler wingmen ever

Part 1 here: " unexpected variable "

" welcome back caller @hikarisecret! connecting your line as we speak! "

"Would you happen to be interested in meeting up more often?"

He immediately stopped in place.

Nervously, you twiddled your thumbs from the doorway to your small office.

It'd been about a month since you'd help Dan Heng get through his early heat. You'd let contact drop for a couple weeks, something he'd known would probably happen but also something he'd desperately hoped wouldn't occur. He'd only really spoken to you for an extended period of time on a handful of occasions. Being one of the few researchers that followed a path aside from the endless pursuit of knowledge, he was curious.

So maybe he'd always had a little bit of a crush, but March always called you "eye candy" for when they stopped at the Space Station. It never progressed any further than a couple chats, some red cheeks, and a some pleasantries here and there.

Then the Antimatter League wormed its way into the station and there you were, at the forefront of the evacuation efforts. Instead of being an aloof, distant researcher with a mind that was roaming the stars, you were alert and concentrated. You were so quick to help, it seemed you hadn't really wrapped your head around the imminent danger right in front of you.

That was truly when his little crush turned into something a little bit more than he was prepared to handle.

He was asking for you around the station when he had the chance, after all he was too shy to approach someone randomly and start interrogating them on the whereabouts of their coworker. He also knew he was a little bit more intimidating and came off as cold to most.

His inquiries actually did the opposite of what he had hoped. Knowing he was looking around for you, he thought you might be inclined to make yourself more available to maybe slack off occasionally or just stick around and chat for a few minutes. Instead of that happening, it seemed the more people seemed to remember your existence, the more people tried to look for you.

It was never out of malice, of course, they just remembered they had a less than social coworker. They'd make the effort to say hello to you in the halls, stop in at your office to say hi and maybe bring a coffee every now and then. But it seemed you were less than eager to entertain anyone when you were constantly burying your head in your studies.

Eventually, when your coworkers would stop in at your office, they'd find you weren't there. You were constantly switching between different labs and areas to conduct tests and gather data to solidify your latest thesis. Instead of becoming more social, easier to find, it seemed you retreated even further into your shell and avoided coming into contact with anyone else all together. Trying to find you became akin to trying to hold sand in a sieve.

That was precisely why he was so surprised when you suddenly invited him for a meeting to discuss the Vidyadhara of the Xianzhou Alliance. As soon as they were back on the Astral Express, it seemed someone managed to whisper enough information into your ear to pique your interest in the species. As of now, he had his theories, but he couldn't figure out whether it was Caelus or March that let everything slip.

When you invited him back to your office after what happened to continue your little conversation, he briefly wondered if this was a little bit too good to be true. While yes, you were nothing if not a dedicated genealogy researcher, that didn't stop him from wondering if you might have different intentions.

The last time he'd been in your office, the two of you were stuck in bed for nearly a week for his heat period. Inviting him back to your office again seemed a little bit too much like an invitation after too little time to be considered a coincidence. Did you want to get him in your bed again? Did you plan on trying to get something out of him now that you knew he actively fantasized about you on his lonesome? Then again, he realized he didn't really care if the answer to either of those questions was yes.

Of course, none of his suspicions were confirmed to be true.

You were professional, almost disappointingly so. Everything you asked him was less than personal, all aimed towards furthering your understanding of the Xianzhou Alliance as a whole. You finished your round of questions about his biology, and then you moved on to culture and social etiquette.

When you offered to walk him back to the docking area, he felt a little bit hopeless. No more closeness in conversation, it seemed you severed all intimacy the moment he wasn't in heat anymore.

But now, you stood in front of him, nervous and asking if he wanted to see you again?

'Yes, yes, yes, yes,' He would love to see you again, especially if it was for something that wasn't work related.

He would take what he could get in general. If you asked him to be your lab assistant or something, he would be so much more than just happy to say yes. Whatever time you wanted to spend with him, he would make himself available.

But he was just as socially inept as you were; Dan Heng sat in a slack-jawed stupor as he tried to his best to piece together sentences with the little fragments of thoughts swirling around in a white flurry. His mouth opened; he tried to talk, but every time he tried to make any statements, he doubled back and retracted it in favor of trying to think of something better to say.

At his reaction, you waved it off disappointedly. "Forget it, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just thought-" You cut yourself off again, biting the inside of your cheek.

It seemed the archivist finally managed to recompose himself, "No, I-" He paused, trying to put his feelings into words, "I'm just surprised you wanted to spend time together. I assumed that once you gathered the relevant information, we would go back to being acquaintances that didn't speak very often."

You shook your head, awkwardly trying to lighten the mood with a strained laugh, "I'll admit that's what I planned to do a month ago, but before we.." you trailed off, "...y'know, you mentioned that I only seemed to talk to you when I needed something from the astral express archives. I didn't really think it would be fair of me to keep exploiting your kindness like that."

He shook his head, "The archives are always open to whoever wishes to read them, I didn't mean to make it sound like you were taking advantage of anything."

You chewed on the inside of your lip this time, trying to think of a way to put it into words. "Well, it's not just that I realized I was benefitting from your kindness without putting any real effort back in, the thought occurred to me... I just don't speak to anyone outside of when I need to know something."

He remained quiet.

To thin out the building tension, you added on, "Arlan's told me before that it's really not healthy to live that way." You clasped your hands behind your back, "I thought since you mentioned being upset with the fact that we don't ever get to talk, maybe spending time together would be a good opportunity for me to start reintegrating into a more social scene?"

"Oh."

You nodded, "I apologize if it seems like I'm just trying to use you, I truly do want to become friends." You kicked at nothing in particular on the ground, averting eye contact. "I'm just afraid I don't know how to be friends with anyone anymore."

He let the silence take the place of the conversation. It wasn't that he was thinking about whether or not he wanted to take you up on your offer, it was how to do it elegantly without seeming desperate.

You bit the inside of your cheek, "You don't have to make the decision now, I just thought it would come off as insincere if I asked over text."

After another pause, he bobbed his head up and down slowly. "I don't know if I'm the right person to ask, but if you're asking me to be your friend, I won't say no."

"Mr. Yang, do you know what's wrong with Dan Heng?"

March played with the hem of her skirt, nerves clear and obvious to all three trailblazers in the room, "I was going to ask him if he wanted to go back to Belobog with me and Caelus, but his door's locked."

Welt hummed, "It could well be related to all that transpired on the Xianzhou. It may be best if you leave him to his thoughts."

March shook her head adamantly, "No, it can't be! He just made a trip to the Space Station a few days ago." She put her hands on her hips, "Besides, even when he's in a bad mood, he doesn't lock his door. He's always weirdly strict on insisting everyone has access to the archives."

He nodded again, putting a contemplative hand on his chin. "That is true." He offered another idea, "Well, did the two of you think to ask him? Perhaps he'd answer if you sent him a text."

"March wanted to yell at him through the door, but we thought it might be better to see if anyone knew anything first," Caelus countered.

Mr. Yang nodded, "Have you consulted Himeko? She's a little bit closer to Dan Heng than I am, she might be able to offer more perspective on the situation."

March 7th nodded enthusiastically, "Thanks, Mr. Yang!"

He nodded, returning to staring at the expanse of stars just past his fingertips outside the glass windows of the express. "It's no problem, let me know if there's any serious updates on the situation."

As the two younger and less experienced nameless made their way towards Himeko's desk at the back of the express, March did her best to try and put together the pieces in her head. While it wasn't clear whether or not she was trying to start a dialogue with Caelus, the timeline went as such.

Dan Heng is revealed to be the Imbibitor Lunae while on the Xianzhou Alliance's ship.

He resolves the crisis with Phantylia resulting in the lifting of his banishment from the Xianzhou.

He sticks around on the Alliance to deal with matters relating to his past life's status as the High Elder of the Vidyadhara.

He makes a trip to Herta's Space Station for mysterious reasons that nobody knows.

He makes it back to the express, he locks himself in his room.

Before the two of them can realize the glaringly obvious hole in the timeline, they're stood in front of Himeko's desk. March, as always, is the one to officially start the questioning. "Himeko! Have you noticed anything weird about the way Dan Heng's been acting lately?"

After taking another drawn out sip of her coffee, she hummed... "I suppose I have, but he's also just come back from a place with what I can only assume is a lot of bad memories. I'm sure if he's given a little bit of space, he'll be back to the same old Dan Heng in no time."

March 7th pursed her lips, "I would agree with you if this wasn't so weird!" She crossed her arms, "He doesn't ever lock his door! Not when he's in a bad mood, not even when he's changing for crying out loud!"

Himeko nodded, bringing her mug back up to her lips silently. "I guess that is a little bit weird... do you two happen to have any idea what he's been up to lately?"

"Well, when we all boarded the Express again, he made a stop at the Herta Space Station. We could be looking at this all wrong." Caelus crossed his arms, "Maybe instead of something happening on the Xianzhou, something happened at the Space Station. He was there about a month ago and then again a few days ago. I think he stayed for around a week the first time."

The moment the words passed the newest addition to the astral express's lips, both women paused in their tracks.

"..."

"..."

Himeko was the first to break the silence, lowering her "lifeblood" back onto its coaster on her desk. "March, you don't think... do you?"

Immediately, after Himeko broke the silence, March 7th let a happy squeal and started waving her hands around, "Oh, my, aeons! Himeko, do you know what this means?!"

Caelus could only look between the two of them in complete and utter confusion. "Am I missing something?"

Before Himeko could answer any potential questions, March was already running back towards the archivist's locked door, yelling his name at the top of her lungs, "Dan Heng, you sly dog!"

Caelus could only look back at Himeko with a brow raised.

She cleared her throat, "Well, I guess now is a better time than never to find out."

"Find out?" He voice trailed up at the end, "Find out what?"

Himeko put her hands on her desk, "Well... Dan Heng, as you know, is not always the most approachable person." She drummed her nails on the desk, "But it happens even he isn't immune to his emotions."

The trailblazer paused, "So Dan Heng's acting like this cause he likes someone? And they work at the space station?"

Himeko nodded her head, gesturing towards the hallway. "I'd tell you more, but it seems March is pretty intent on getting those answers out of him for herself."

Caelus nodded, uncrossing his arms. "Well, can I ask you a question?"

Himeko nodded, turning back to her monitor and gripping her mug of coffee once again. "Sure, go ahead." She lifted it to her lips, taking in a long swig.

"Is it that one guy March started texting about Vidyadharas?"

Immediately, she let out a strangled noise into her drink.

Were you even the same person?

"Arlan? Arlan!"

You snapped your fingers in front of his face, "Earth to Arlan? Hello?"

He shook his head back and forth, trying to snap out of the mini daze he was in. "I- Yeah, sorry. You're just... different, is all."

You raised your brow, looking down at your uniform. You pulled at your collar, "Did Miss Asta's suggestions really do all that much? I don't think I look too different."

Arlan's brows creased at a point on his forehead. "I guess they did, work-life balance looks good on you."

Instead of the barely alive looking researcher he constantly found himself hanging out with, it looked as if you were glowing in the fluorescent light of the cafeteria.

You nodded, "You know, I feel a lot better than I usually do." You paused, poking at your well-portioned and prepared meal in front of you, "Sometimes I still feel guilty about how little work I get done in comparison to when I didn't focus on the little things."

Arlan was quick to agree, "Yeah, I understand the feeling." He picked at his own food, eating a mouthful of the fried-rice Lady Asta loved so much. "Still, if you're looking better and feeling better, you're doing better all around."

For the first time since you set foot on the station, you'd taken the week off under the guidance of Lead Researcher Asta. She always scolded your ear off for working your fingers to brittle bone, but it seemed when you actually took her recommendations to heart, something in you fundamentally shifted.

Instead of skipping sleep to observe DNA strands for a few extra hours near midnight? You were turning in at a specified time every night and waking up at the appropriate hour the next morning. It was the first time you'd really grown accustomed to the sound of your phone alarm. Usually, you didn't sleep for 48 hours and then you would crash for 16.

Instead of getting so absorbed in your research you were forgetting to eat, you set aside the new found time taken away from research to make yourself a healthy, nutritious meal for each sitting of the day. You made yourself a breakfast that would warm up well in the morning, made yourself a hearty lunch to make sure you had enough energy to get through the day, and then a light dinner to make sure your digestive system wouldn't have to go into overdrive while you slept.

Originally, when you read up on self-care, you weren't all too sure you could make all the changes without some kind of drastic shift in your schedule immediately. But you were determined, you wouldn't let your social life pass you by any longer!

Instead of shying away from the challenge, you started small. You'd implement times in your routine where you would regularly stop and eat based on timers on your phone. You set an alarm for yourself to remind yourself it was time to stop working and go home.

Then, when you finally were ready to make the big leap, you consulted Asta and managed to get her to pull a few strings to get you some time off.

You took your week off to strengthen all of your healthy habits and kill off all the bad ones. You didn't have the opportunity to neglect yourself when it really was the only thing you could do. You started working out again to pass the time, you even got Arlan to drop Peppy off to keep you company when he was getting to be a handful around the station.

Arlan took a moment to thoroughly chew his food and swallow it, "As happy as I am that you're finally seeing the light, what exactly prompted all this change?"

You paused, seemingly chewing your own food slower in response. "Well, I want to start trying to make more friends."

He raised a brow, "I guess it's usually easier to make friends if you're taking care of yourself."

You nodded, "I mean, yeah, but I didn't really feel the need to look or feel better because I was really focused on my work and stuff like that." You averted your eyes, "You have to promise not to laugh at me if I tell you this."

Arlan could only feel himself getting more suspicious by the second, "Okay... I won't laugh at you. But why would I laugh at you?"

"I'm a little pathetic," you laughed, awkwardly at best. "I-". You paused again, taking a deep breath, "I don't know, I set up to meet with this guy in Aurum Alley on the Xianzhou Alliance ship and I didn't want him to have to walk around with someone that looked like a walking corpse. You and Asta always joke that I'm the walking dead and I-"

Arlan held up his hand, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, that's a lot to unpack to start off with." You blinked at him, snapping your jaw shut immediately. "Me and Asta only joke about that because you treat yourself like you want to be walking corpse. You hardly take care of yourself."

You nodded, swallowing a glob of spit.

"Second of all," he picked up another spoonful of rice, "Who are you meeting? Why do you think you need to change yourself to be good enough to just walk around someplace with him?"

You sighed, "That's the problem, I don't really know." You poked at your food with your fork, "He's just really cool. He's got a lot of friends and he has a really exciting life but he kind of just chooses to try and hang out with me. I don't really think I'm worth that much effort and yet he goes out of his way to try and look for me? It just feels like I'm letting him down if I don't put in the same kind of effort."

Arlan's face scrunched up, "Are you talking about Dan Heng?"

You tilted your head, "How did you know?"

"Well, he kind of follows you around like a lost puppy dog." He took another bite of his food, "He's not gonna care whether or not your eyebags are darker or if you're a little bit on the thinner side. He's already long decided he wants to be around you even at you worst."

You bit your lip, considering it for a moment. "I don't know what it is, but I feel like if anything goes wrong in Aurum Alley it's going to be life-ruining."

"What do you mean by that?" He frowned, "That... sounds really ominous."

You held your head in your free hand, "I don't know, I just feel like if he thinks I'm weird or disgusting or anything like that I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

"Hey, let's back it up." Arlan set his spoon down on the table, "It's just a meet-up with a guy, nothing's going to happen if your date fails. If you have an awful date, there's always going to be the chance to make it up the next time. Besides, as long as you two are good spirited about it, there's no such thing as a bad date unless he like... I don't know, poisons you or something."

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, thinking it over.

For the first time during the entire conversation, you looked him directly in the eyes.

"...I just feel like letting go after getting in this close isn't an option anymore."

"March? Caelus?"

Said girl nervously laughed, shrinking behind the newspaper she was trying to hide her face in.  “Uh oh…”

Next to her, Caelus shook his head, “Busted.” 

Dan Heng stood, a little bit behind you, huffing through his nose.  While he didn’t say anything momentarily, the nature of his expression indicated he was more than just cross with the other nameless tag-alongs.  “What are the both of you doing in Aurum Alley?  I thought you both said you were busy today.” 

March quickly went to defend herself, folding the rather large newspaper shut.  “We are busy! We… just happen to be busy here!” 

Next to her, Caelus nodded his head intently.  

His arms across his chest, the tail trailing from his lower back smacked against the ground in an annoyed fashion.  He tapped his finger on his forearm a couple times, “What exactly are the two of you busy with?  This is the one day I told the both of you I would be visiting the Xianzhou Alliance.”

While nobody outright accused each other of anything, the implication was clear.  March 7th and Caelus were here because they knew Dan Heng would be on a date.  They were only here because they knew he would be on a date.  Instead of just checking in on him, they took it upon themselves to follow their fellow passenger and his unfortunate partner around.   With all the tension that started to blot the air like little rain clouds, you took it upon yourself to try and cut through it.  “Aren’t you in charge of commerce in Aurum Alley?  I heard from one of my coworkers that his wife has started ordering from the Food Stand here.” 

Automatically picking up on your out, Caelus nodded, “I was, but I handed it off to the Commerce Guild’s acting president.  She, uh-”  He sputtered over his words, “She asked for some help packing up a few Starskiffs and March didn’t have anything to do today, so… she tagged along?” 

You nodded, a little bit shyly, “Speaking of which, have you tried any of the food from the stand?  I’ve heard they recently upgraded their entertainment, but I haven’t heard much about the food quality.” 

March excitedly added in her two cents, “Oh! Me and Caelus were about to head that way!  He said that the Tall Auntie running the place usually has some freebies for him since he helped the store set-up their take-out ordering system!” 

Your eyes glinted excitedly, “Really?  I didn’t hear about that part.”  You clasped your hands together, “You really live up to all the rumors I hear on the station.  Didn’t you also set up the marketing campaign with the current High Elder of the Vidyadhara?”

Before he could answer, Dan Heng waved the pair off with a hand. “I’m sure we can continue this conversation some time later.  They said they were busy, we wouldn’t want to make them late to anything.” 

March was quick to interject, “Actually! We’re going on a lunch break real quick!”  She turned to Caelus, putting a hand on his shoulder, “Right?”

He nodded again, “We should all go to Tall Aunty’s Food Stand.” 

You opened your mouth to voice your agreement before your companion cut in, “No need, we planned on grabbing lunch later.” 

You looked at him, blinking a couple times.  Before you could say anything, March was already up in arms.  “It wouldn’t hurt you guys to move up your lunch plans, besides, this is our only lunch break until we have to go back to work!”

Instead of confirming or denying March’s statement, the trailblazer stood back and simply listened to the argument.  You chose to do the same.  

Dan Heng, on the other hand, let more displeasure drip into his expression.  “We didn’t plan on running into each other while we were out, your plans and our plans happen to be different.  We can arrange another time for the four of us to get lunch at the food stall.”

March put her hands on her hips, “Well, you guys are just hanging out, right?  It couldn’t hurt to just push back those plans to roam so you can spare some time to talk with friends.”  When she didn’t get any response from Dan Heng, she clasped her hands together in front of her chest, “Please?  Pretty please?  It’s been so long since all of us have seen each other!” 

“Hmph.” 

The person you’d originally come to Aurum Alley with was unmoved by her earnest plea, but you were somewhat swayed.  Your face twisted in sympathy.  “...Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just go out to lunch with them this once.  Aurum Alley will still be here when we get done eating, I haven’t had the time to meet up with March lately or even get to know Caelus.  It might be good for me to make more friends.” 

He opened his mouth to protest, but he was cut off by March.  She threw her arm over your shoulder, “See? He gets it!” 

You curled in on yourself from the sudden change in position, leaning to the side a bit so she could actually hook her forearm around your biceps. Caelus finally decided now would be the best time to contribute to the conversation, “I don’t think I’ve talked to [name] before, I’ve been curious about their work since Lady Asta, Herta, and Arlan seem to hold him in high regard as a researcher.” 

You shook your head, putting your hands up.  You were a little scrunched in the position, “Oh, please don’t misunderstand, I’m really nothing all that special.” 

March shook her head, “Nonsense, you’re one of the best at the Space Station!  I heard you used to help a lot of interns before you started focusing on Genealogy!” 

You crumpled in on yourself, “Well, that’s usually the usual career path for researchers at the station in general.  Before we find our specialized area of research, you generalize and if anyone asks you to train them, you train them.”  Scratching your chin nervously, “Besides, I’ve kind of put work on the back burner in favor of trying to take better care of myself.” 

“Oh! I’d been meaning to ask about that, your skin is glowing!” March added,  “I remember Asta always used to call you some kind of zombie whenever you came up in conversation.” 

Caelus tilted his head to the side, “Really?” 

Your cheeks turned a soft shade of pink, “Yeah, everyone says I look really different now.  I usually get a lot more comments about how there’s more color in my skin or something along those lines.”

The conversation went on for a little longer before Dan Heng sighed, he pressed a couple of his fingers to his temple.  “I-” He closed his mouth, pinching the skin of his lip between his upper and lower set of teeth.  “-I guess getting lunch together wouldn’t change our plans all that much.”

“Yes!” March threw a fist into the air, ecstatic at the sudden change in plans.  She pointed a thumb over at the trailblazer, leaning in to talk behind her other hand.  “Caelus has been wanting to meet you, Dan Heng mentions you a lot on the express.” 

You felt your cheeks smolder at the suggestion, “He… does?” 

Dan Heng cleared his throat, his own cheeks dusted a matching scarlet, “We should get going, we don’t want to get caught up in the middle of the lunch rush.” 

March gave a cheeky smile, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Dan Heng.” 

"I'm not exactly sure what you mean by... a 'surprise'."

“A surprise is just something you don’t know about,”   Caelus answered, rather monotone.  

Dan Heng grimaced ever so slightly, “If that’s the case, can I be sure I want to be privy to this...surprise then?”

March 7th punched her gray-haired raccoon-in-crime in the shoulder.  She shot him a stern look, as stern as she could look with her cutesy exterior.  Turning her attention back to the man they were trying to convince to head out to the lobby of the Express, she did her best to plead her case, “You’ve been holed up in your room since last week!  We just wanted to give you a little gift that might cheer you up a bit.” 

He raised a brow quizzically, arms still crossed over his chest.  “Can you guarantee this is a gift I’ll like?  Or is it going to be something like being invited to you and Himeko’s girls’ night again.” 

Caelus’s head snapped to March.  

Said passenger cleared her throat, “This is something you’ll like-”  She put a hand on her heart, the other balling into a fist resting on her hip,  “I swear it on all my honor!” 

Dan Heng looked over them again, gaze swapping between the two incredulously.  In the meantime, both of them were sweating bullets.  They didn’t know how long they had before “the surprise” would arrive at the station.   After a drawn out pause, however, he shook his head, “Fine, but if it’s anything like your previous gifts, this is the last time I trust you.” 

Marched pumped a fist into the air with a loud cheer, Caelus, on the other hand, put both hands on Dan Heng’s shoulders.  He flipped his fellow trailblazer around to face towards the door to his room, all but pushing him.  March followed after him excitedly.  The one thought running through the guy usually dragged into all their shenanigans was an inner turmoil sparked by the dread swirling through his cranium.  

The short walk to the door dividing the lobby and the residential areas of the train was punctuated by Caelus hurriedly covering his eyes.  As such, said swirling dread started to elevate into alarm bells sweeping through his nervous system as well.  This wasn’t a simple invite to an event or anything of the sort, it was tangible and you could see it. 

“Is covering my eyes necessary?” 

March confirmed this from behind him, “Yes, absolutely necessary!” 

As the door to the lobby swung open when they got close enough, he could hear faint chatter from Pom-Pom, Welt, and Himeko through the door.  The alarm bells dotting his body seemed to blare all the louder and cast off more red light when the talks quieted down immediately. 

His hands balled up into fists at his side, flexing and unflexing as a result of his nerves.  Before he could ask any more questions, the hands that were covering his eyes suddenly were retracted.  

He blinked a few times, trying to figure out what exactly he was seeing.  Okay so, the first elephant in the room.  You were in the middle of the parlor car, in your street clothing rather than your uniform.  One hand wrapped its fingers around the handle of a rolling suitcase.  Your other arm was hanging limp at your side and your posture sort of crumpled in on itself.  Even when you spoke, your voice was just a smidge shaky.  "Surprise?"

Even though he hadn’t meant to be aggressive in the slightest, his voice was a little bit sharp when he questioned, “What are you doing here?”

In response, your own voice seemed to get stuck in your throat filter, “Well, I-” You started, making a circular motion with your free hand, “I thought it might be time for me to make some changes in life and I got an invitation from the astral express…”  the sentence trailed off afterwards.  

“So you’re saying…” 

You shrugged, “I just thought it’d be rude since the astral express doesn’t ever really invite anyone to become a passenger and I was already a little bit bored on the Space Station-”  You coughed into a fist, “Himeko was the one who reached out originally, stating there was a gap in the Express’s skill set.  She said that since I was already a friend, the train would be happy to have me.”  

Dan Heng waited for you to continue, but when you didn’t he added in his own little stamp of input.  “When you said you were moving, you meant you were going to be… joining the express?”

Your hand finally left your suitcase, held up defensively alongside your free hand, “Well, March told me it’d be best to keep it a secret!”  You nervously averted eye contact, “When I asked Lady Asta whether or not it'd be okay, she agreed it’d be a harmless little prank.”  

Mr. Yang hummed thoughtfully, “It seems only you and I were kept in the dark.  I only learned there would be a new addition to the crew yesterday.” 

Himeko chortled next to him, crossing her legs in her seat, “Well, I guess it slipped my mind.” 

You took a deep breath, “I was getting pretty tired of the same wake up, research all day, eat a few times, and then go back to bed.  I was always a little bit jealous of all the stories you’d tell from your trailblazing expeditions as one of the nameless because I’ve only ever known my home planet and the Station.”  You motioned to the navigator of the Astral Express, “Himeko said that there would always going to be new things you all haven’t encountered before, it would be useful to have someone learned in technology that could dissect any new contraptions we came across.”  You sighed, “I might’ve jumped the gun a little bit, but can you blame me?” 

When you gave him the chance to speak, he immediately asked about the only real concern he had, “But... your research, you always talked about how important it was to you.” 

You nodded, “Oh, don’t get me wrong, it's more important to me than life itself. That's why I didn't quit my job, Arlan and Asta pleaded my case to Herta and I’m transitioning to remote work.”  You kicked at the air with one foot, “It also helps that Lady Herta has been interested in expanding her areas of research so she can implement new things into the Simulated Universe.” 

Dan Heng took a second to mull it over, “So you’re going to move onto the express, for good?” 

You nodded excitedly, grabbing the handle of your luggage again.

“Yes, I’m becoming one of the nameless.”

"You asked to see me?"

Arlan glanced up from where he was sitting at his desk.   Setting down the tablet he was reading a new report on, he pushed it to the side.  “Sorry, I didn’t expect you to be here so soon.”   He gestured to the seat in front of him, “Please, have a seat.  I just had a couple things I wanted to talk about.” 

The archivist nodded, pulling the chair out so he could properly settle in.  “Of course.”   Upon seating himself and getting comfortable, he broke the silence again, “What is it that you wanted to discuss?” 

The head security officer bit at the inside of his cheek, trying to find the most sensitive way to broach the topic.  He tapped his finger on the desk, before deciding to rip off the band-aid pretty quickly, “Have you noticed any changes in [name] as of late?” 

Dan Heng blinked a couple times.  “Not particularly, did you?” 

“Well,” He swallowed, “I’m just a little worried about him.  I don’t know how he’s been doing since he left for the express, but before he left he said some concerning things.  I couldn’t tell if he meant them or not.” 

In response, Dan Heng tried not to pry too hard.  However, since it did concern you, he felt it also concerned him.  “What kinds of things did he say?” 

Arlan paused again, trying to really think things over before making an even bigger deal out of them, “I don’t know if you can call them weird on their own, but he just doesn’t… say things like that ever.  It’s out of character for him and I’m afraid it’ll get worse now that me and Lady Asta won’t be there to keep him in check.” 

“I can’t exactly help if I don’t know what he said,” Dan Heng reasoned, “The only real change I noticed was his relationship with his work.  Since he’s been on the express, he’s been working a lot more.  Aside from that, he seems to enjoy setting aside time to run around with March and Caelus.  I find I have a lot more time alone because it seems they’ve started alternating between the two of us to rope into their schemes.” 

Arlan nodded, “I guess that makes me feel a little bit better.”  

The other man nodded back at him in response, “Still, what did he say that had you concerned?  As one of his friends, I feel obligated to make sure he’s alright.” 

“Well, I feel a little bit awkward saying it since it was originally about you.”  To this, Arlan drummed his fingers on his desk, “It started a couple days before the two of you went out for the first time to Aurum Alley.  He started talking about how he felt he wasn’t cool enough to be around you, that he needed to change somehow so he wouldn’t embarrass you.” 

Dan Heng nodded, keeping his mouth shut. 

The security officer’s frown deepened, “But it just got worse from there.  I don’t want to scare you or anything, but he’s… weird about you-really weird.”  

“...about me specifically?” Dan Heng’s head cautiously leaned to the side.  

Arlan bobbed his head up and down quickly, “Yeah, just you.”  He let his hands go limp on the table, “He’s been doing really good otherwise.  It’s just like he took all his unhealthy habits and converted them into these weird thoughts and ideas about you.”  He raised one of his hands to count out each of the changes on his fingers, “He’s started eating healthy, eating regularly, working out again, he actually sleeps on time, and he’s making friends, arguably he’s doing better than he has for a long time.”  He leaned his face on his other hand, “But then he’ll start talking about you and it’s like a demon’s hiding under his tongue.” 

The astral express passenger pursed his lips, trying to hide the audible drumming of his heart in his ears.  “Well, what kinds of things does he say?” 

Arlan paused, chewing on his lip, “He talks about you like this kind of unattainable goal.”  He shifted to rest both his forearms on the table.  “There’s just this weird far off look in his eyes and I can tell he’s only saying half the stuff on his mind.  All these half-baked thoughts about how he doesn’t deserve to hang out with you, muttering about ways he can change himself to be more ‘worthy’ of your time or whatever.  It’s scaring me.” 

“...” 

“...I don’t know.”  Arlan sighed, “I want to be happy for how much progress he’s making but he isn’t making it for himself.” 

“...he really said all those things about me?”

Arlan seemed a little taken aback, “Uh, yeah… he did.”  

He swallowed a glob of spit down his throat, “And you’re saying all these changes for the better have been because he wants to impress me?” 

Arlan took a moment to think before responding.  Slowly, he nodded his head, “Yeah… it’s why I asked if you noticed any changes.  He talks about you a lot and you guys seem to be hanging out more than ever.” 

“That’s… a little bit concerning.” 

Arlan didn’t answer back immediately.  He could feel something was a little bit… off.  “Yeah, that’s… kind of why I wanted to bring it up to you.” 

Upon hearing the suspicion in the other man’s tone, Dan Heng did his best to try and clear the air, “Sorry, it’s… just a lot to take in at once.  I didn’t expect that was what you wanted to talk about.” 

Trying to shake off the unease, the head security officer shrugged, “I could only really imagine.”  He sighed, “My main concern is whether or not he’s acting weird on the express.  I tried to write it off as him being excited to make a new friend early-on, since I knew he only really had Lady Asta when he arrived on the Space Station.  When he started making a lot more friends and he was still acting weird about you, I didn’t really have an excuse for him anymore.” 

Dan Heng nodded, “I don’t really think you have to worry anymore.” 

Arlan tried to ignore his stomach dropping through the floor. “...Oh.” 

Dan Heng nodded, “I mean to say, he can’t hold me on a pedestal anymore because we are both nameless.  He doesn’t have anything to look up to when we are both on equal footing.” 

Your former best friend tried to agree, he really wanted to.  He wanted to believe that Dan Heng was just innocently naive about the nature of your words and actions, but the archivist wasn’t stupid.  He should’ve obviously known something was wrong.  “...I guess I can see where you’re coming from. But can I just ask one thing of you?”

Arlan was right to be suspicious, because Dan Heng was only really telling a half-truth.  As selfish as it sounded, the nameless was more than happy for this sudden change in circumstance.  

The archivist hummed, "Of course."

"Be careful." Arlan paused before continuing, "I know you might think you'd be able to handle it if he gets out of control, but he's a lot stronger than he looks. He's been working out too and I'm scared he might... end up becoming dangerous."

Instead of further pushing the conversation, the express passenger acknowledged his worry. "I can see where you're coming from. But, I feel that he's starting to mellow out. He's not just spending time hanging around me or anyone on the express in particular. I promise that you don't need to keep worrying about him."

Even as he tried to convince Arlan that his intentions for encouraging him to trust in the express were pure, he knew that he was only making excuses. If the head security officer chose to peel back just a couple more of the layers to his act, he would find the man's true thoughts.

‘You don’t need to worry about him, because feeling like that is normal, isn’t it? I feel the same way.’

"Oh, the group already headed out for the Festival. Did you plan on telling them something before they left?"

You stood near Himeko’s coffee maker, cradling one of the many mugs you’d brought with you to the express. Judging by the steam wafting off the top of the coffee, you’d just freshly brewed yourself a drink and were getting ready to retreat back into your hastily thrown together room to continue working on some kind of research project.

Dan Heng, on the other hand, hadn’t been doing anything in particular before the conversation. Fresh out of his room, he'd opted to leave his heavy coat hung up. “No, not in particular.”

You tilted your head, eyes still focusing on your hot beverage, “Alright, is there any particular reason why you asked if they were gone yet?”

“Well, the two of us are alone on the entire express. The residential compartment is completely cleared out…”. He trailed off his sentence, crossing his arms across his chest.

You raised your brow curiously, setting your drink down on the counter to go about swapping the coffee filter. “Yeah…? I guess we are.”

Dan Heng chewed on the inside of his cheek, “Well, if we were going to do anything that might necessitate being alone, now would be the best time since everyone else is at the Charmony Festival.”

Your cheeks flushed pink, “I guess, but I can't really think of anything that the two of us would do, that is unless you’re going into another heat?” You murmured to nobody in particular, “Most reptilian species only have a mating period during a certain season though.”

“Do you…” he paused, considering his words carefully, “Do you think that would be the only time I'd be interested in doing something like that?”

You could feel a tingly warmth creep up your neck, “W-Well,” you dropped the used filter in the trash can. “That was the last time we did anything like that and I just thought, y’know…”

Dan Heng’s lips pulled into a tight line, “If I wasn't going into heat? If I just wanted to sleep together?”

You faced away from him, rummaging through the cabinets for the coffee grounds. “I-” You fumbled with the satchel, grasping a new filter with your other hand,

“I wouldn't say no…?”

"Ahn~ Right there, right there, right thererightthere-"

His fingers dug into the spots of your headboard right next to your skull, chest pushed forward and hips angled backward to form a beautifully lewd arch.

You gave another pointed jolt of your hips, positively radiant when Dan Heng exploded into shudders of ecstasy. Thighs shaking, he did his best to try and encourage them to lift a little. When he reached as high as he knew he could get, he dropped his hips back down onto yours rather unceremoniously with a pornographic mewl.

Despite the drool leaking down his chin, you leaned in to give him a peck on the lips. The moment your mouth was on his, it seemed almost like a silent invitation. Even with the lack of any real stimulation, he hands transferred from the cracked and scarred wood to your shoulders. He groaned into your mouth tracing his left hand’s pointer finger over your exposed collarbone.

Even with the building fatigue burning through his lower half, he did his best to pick himself up again. Your hands slithered from squeezing his love handles to gripping the curve of his ass. Supporting his hips, your arm strength added to the diminishing strength in his legs, dragging his insides up your length before slamming him back down to meet your pelvis forcefully.

“Oh~” he let out an airy moan, expertly swiping his finger along the dip in your skin from your collarbone up to the side of the neck. Instead of focusing on further chasing his release again, he leaned down to plant a sloppy, wet kiss on the side of your neck just underneath where the pads of his fingers rested on your pulse point.

You squirmed from the foreign sensation of the drool trailing down the sensitive skin, unexpectedly squeezing his ass in response. He smiled against your neck, shameless while he trailed a forked tongue over the artery hidden beneath your skin.

You weren't used to the sudden spark of confidence, shying away from his excessive touch with a quiet, nervous embarrassment. Your hands trailed back towards his waistline, pulling him up by the tempting dip in his figure, only to slam him back down again. When you were rewarded with a breathless, blissed call of your name, you didn't hesitate to do it again.

Before long, it seemed the two of you didn't have any thoughts running through your head but the desires of the flesh.

Firmly planting your feet on the mattress, the two of you seemed to get lost in the sudden plowing of your cock even deeper into his ass. The combined force of his weight, gravity, and your own aggressive rhythm contributing to the growing bulge of your tip just below the center of his abs, you felt lost to the sensations. Even in your sex-drunk haze, you didn't fail to realize the heightened nature of his vocals, it seemed his voice box was all but tearing itself apart with each of the punched out shrieks he pushed out right into your ear.

Even stranger, instead of moving his hips in tandem with yours, he seemed extremely fixated on the specific, certain spot of your neck he’d laid claim to just a few short moments earlier. With each drawn out groan forced out of his mouth, he lavished his affections on the same spot. Kissing the same point over and over in a silent worship.

The tips of your ears burning a stark red vermillion, you let a shaky roll of your hips smack into his insides especially sharp, “Shihittt~” In your attempt to combat the sensation, your face burned a deeper crimson when he moaned directly into your ear.

Even after a particularly harsh thrust, it seemed he was still dead set on focusing on that one specific point on your neck. With all the kisses suctioned to that specific square of flesh, the skin bruised a shy pink hue, and it only seemed to further encourage him.

In response, you gripped one of the horns on the crown of his head to finally get him to put his lips elsewhere. Peppering shy, messy, saliva-soaked kisses to an eager and hungry mouth you could feel your pace speed up as you crept up higher and higher towards your peak. His face contorted in the shape of each electric current of ecstasy wrapping itself like a cord up his spinal column. Even if he wanted to let out more pathetic whimpers and sobs, he couldn't find the strength to pull away from equally addictive kisses.

Shyly, you pried open his lips with your tongue. He reciprocated with a tantalizing whine, further welcoming you into his mouth. Without any delay, you dragged your tongue over the roof of his mouth, swirling your spit with his right on top of his Jacobson organ.

He shook in blissed out euphoria, brain flashing a blinding white before he pulled away from the kiss specifically to shriek your name. Pushing his chest up against yours, his arms bent awkwardly from where they were positioned on your upper body. Again he dipped his head into the crook of your neck, nipping at the same patch of wet, pinkening skin with the tips of his fangs.

You grunted, only further confused as he moved from just barely scraping fangs over your jugular to starting to suck a hickey into the raw redness.

In the haze of sex, the overloading of the nerves in just one spot only seemed to further stack on top of eachother in a salacious torture. It felt so good, it was starting to burn. Instead of trying to coax him off the spot, the flexing and twitching of his own neck muscles only seemed to become more and more inviting.

Ultimately, you tried licking a stripe up the same artery in Dan Heng's neck, rewarded with a delicious squeak. His teeth caught on your skin, only further amplifying the dizzying haze and spin that seemed to capture the rest of the world.

A few short seconds later, he pulled his mouth off your neck just a few sparingly merciful breaths away, “Clohhsseeee, cuhlossseee-” He seized up in another mewl, lower back arching to push himself even closer to your pelvis. “Plehease~ Can I, can I, can I-” With another press of the tip of your dick straight into his prostate, he threw his head back with a scream. Still, determined for some kind of permission, he opened his mouth to keep babbling impossibly loud, “can I, can I, canicanican-”

Eyes shut as you sped up to chase your own orgasm, you finally nodded your head in the crook of his neck. “Yes, yes, yes-”

He keened at the go ahead, once again rushing to bury his nose against the abused, purpled, and irritated skin on the side of your neck. Instead of continuing to suck more and more hickies into the canvas laid before him, he opened his mouth wide before injecting his extremely long, needle-like fangs deep into the side of your neck, just barely missing one of the most crucial arteries in your body. The taste of your blood hitting his tongue caused another loud squeal to spill from his lips before he got impossibly tighter and creamed all over both of your stomachs.

You seized up, hips stuttering from the sudden all-consuming pain stemming from your injury before unloading into his awaiting body. In your shock, you couldn't even think about how to ask him what just happened. Even then, you weren't sure you wanted to know.

As the two of you laid there, sweaty and spent, he continued to nurse the wound with the gentle ticklish touch of his forked tongue. Two large, heavily bleeding openings in your neck, he nuzzled up against like they were all he had left.

What your knowledge failed to encompass, Dan Heng’s instincts didn't fail to fawn over. Something the two of you hadn't covered in your research were the mating rituals of the Vidyadhara. Three things were of specific relevance.

One, Vidyadharas mate for life, and the span of multiple lives should time and memory allow it.

Two, mating must be done with permission.

Three, mating is officiated with a mark in a visible area, popularly the neck.

He ran his fingers over the dripping red pouring from the side of your neck. A happy trill resounded from the back of his throat as he lapped it up with his tongue again, drinking in the groan of discomfort and the explosive shivers that wracked your body.

...

...Perhaps it would also be important to mention, mating marks were permanent.

There's a note on the side of the phone booth, read it?

" every time I say I'm going to update the same day, I end up either procrastinating or rewriting the same scene 7 times because I can't figure out what I want to happen specifically "

THIS IS A REPOSTED WORK FROM MY ORIGINAL ACCOUNT BEFORE IT CRAPPED AND DIED ON ME

I USED TO BE FOUND AT @steadybear

I FEAR YOU WILL HAVE TO DEAL WITH SEEING @bigtedbear INSTEAD FROM NOW ON

[chericherrybaby]

DO I WANNA KNOW

Summary, Just Harry having a drunken night and admitting his love for Y/N

~

Harry had been in love with his best friend for as long as he could remember.

They lived next door to each other as kids, they went to the same secondary school as him and she even went to watch him of x-factor.

Although they were close and always had been, it was very rare that the pair would see each other that often.

Harry was mainly touring, and it the last two years partying a whole lot more compared to what he used too. Y/N was disappointed when he’d text her saying he’s going to a party instead of seeing her, as if he hadn’t promised to see her two days prior.

Half the time Y/N wouldn’t even know where Harry was, she’d count herself lucky to get a text back after two days.

They weren’t really best friends anymore.

So after attending a party near Y/N’s house, She still had his location on after all this, Y/N had a slight hope that he’d change his mind and think she was more important than a party.

After busying herself, situating herself on the sofa, with a blanket and a book that she count quite concentrate on, mind always flowing back to Harry.

A few minutes later, her phone began vibrating on the sofa.

Harry.

Quickly reaching over to grab it, but still waiting a few moments to accept to make it seem like she were busy of course.

“I’m outside your house” Harry muttered, not even letting Y/N breathe down the line before he did so.

Stumbling to the front door, throwing on shoes and a small jacket over her shoulders. Even forgetting to hang up the phone entirely, simply throwing it back on the sofa.

Putting the keys in the lock with shaky hands, what was this so nerve racking? He was only her best friend that never wanted to see her anymore and now was randomly outside her house.

“Does your girlfriend know your here?” Y/N asked Harry, approaching him from outside her house, where he sat slumped on the pavement outside.

“No girlfriend” Harry grumbled, slurring his words slightly “told you 12 times”

Y/N places herself infront of him and holds her hands out for Harry to take, having to put more effort into pulling than he was standing.

She places and arm around his waist tightly and holding his arm that was around his shoulder, helping his slowly trudge his way into her house and up the steps leading to.

She placed him on the couch, him ultimately falling from the lack of self control he had over his body. Placing herself next to him, she sighed and watched his eyes fluttering, trying to keep himself awake.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I always do this to you” His head rolled to the side to look at you.

“You’re okay Har, don’t talk about it right now” She placed her hand on his and began rubbing slow circles on his thumb.

“Too busy being yours to fall for somebody new” He mumbled, just loud enough for Y/N to hear him. The room was dead silent but still he almost went unheard.

“What are you talking about?” Y/N chuckled lightly “i think you’d had shit tons to drink. Thought it was only a house party?”

Harry opened his eyes slowly, squinting as if he had just woken up “It was”

He didn’t say anything else for a few minutes, his shallow breathing becoming louder and slight snores escaping every so often.

Y/N was sure he fell asleep, rising slowly to get a blanket, she was tugged back by him.

“Please stay” He slightly whined like a child “I’m so in love with you. I need you to stay”

“Was gonna get you a blanket” Y/N whispered back, voice shaky from the nerves of his confession.

Of course she loved him back. Who wouldn’t? But he was a pop star, had been for half of his life. She was only Y/N, stuck in England with her, well paying, but dead end job that’s she’d been at for ten years.

Harry hummed and mustered up the strength to pull her close, so she was cuddled up into his side “Only need you” He said and his head fell on top of hers.

His exhaustion finally hitting him, as Y/N lay awake imagining what would happen the next morning.

If Harry could even remember the declaration of love.

~

Part Two? Let me know!!

[peaches2217]

Stealth has never been Mario's strong suit, so it takes every ounce of his concentration to keep his footsteps light. He gets a few amused glances from the groundskeepers, but they don't interfere, nor do they hint his presence to his target, who's now only twenty yards away, fifteen, ten. He's decided he'll bring them a heaping plate of bruschetta tomorrow to thank them for putting up with his antics. But for now, he has more important matters to attend to.

Now he's five yards away, and the blonde bombshell sipping tea in a wrought-iron garden chair is still none the wiser to his presence. He can't help himself; he rushes forward, balancing his delivery precariously in one hand as he approaches, and the surprised squeak Peach emits when he covers her eyes from behind immediately validates his efforts.

"I'm thinking we're overdue for a nice merenda, yeah?" He's proud of how light and naturally he's able to say it, given the cake he's poured so much time into is about to slip out of his grasp. He's able to reach around her so that the dish falls from his fingertips and directly onto the table without so much as disturbing her teapot and saucer.

The impromptu acrobatics coupled with Peach's delighted giggle makes him feel invincible. He really is Number One.

"Chocolate?" Peach guesses, sniffing the air, and the eagerness in her voice is enough to melt his heart.

"Close!" He uncovers her eyes then, and Peach gasps in excitement as she takes in the dish he's placed before her. "Double dark chocolate cake with three layers of chocolate mousse and a generous sprinkling of powdered cocoa! As requested."

While he's still out of her line of sight, Mario can't help but pump his fist in victory. He's been cycling those exact words through his head since early this morning, when Peach awoke him with a craving so insatiable that it drove her to tears. Though she was asleep again within twenty minutes, he made it his sacred duty to fulfill her wish, and now here he is, seeing it off without a hitch.

Not normally one to brag on himself, Mario can't help but acknowledge just this once that he's like, the best husband ever.

As he fishes for a serving knife and fork from the cocoa-stained burlap apron still tied around his waist, Peach's elation fizzles into something far meeker. "Oh, stars," she groans, setting her teacup back on its saucer so she can lean back and bury her face in her hands. "Mario, I'm so sorry, I—"

"Ap ap ap," Mario cuts in. "No apologies! Just cake." He comes to her side so that he can retrieve the extra plates from beneath the cake's serving dish, and she looks up at him then, her face pink with embarrassment but bright with happiness in spite of it.

She recomposes herself with a deep breath and sits back upright, her swollen belly making the action only slightly less graceful than normal. "You're incredible," she sighs, smiling softly.

Mario debates pushing the cake aside and kissing every last inch of her until she's squealing with laughter, but he's an Italian man with a pregnant wife, so even thinking about letting her go hungry makes him feel worthy of capital punishment. He dutifully serves her with a generous slice and internally pats himself on the back once more.

Peach melts into a puddle of bliss as she savors her first forkful of cake. "Oh, sweetie, you're my hero." Mario, now seated across from her with his own slice of cake, opens his mouth to respond, admit that Toadsworth is the true hero because he's the one that walked Mario through each step of the baking process and ensured the dessert would actually look as good as it tasted... but then Peach's face changes, her bliss replaced with something that looks like surprise.

Before he can inquire, she relaxes again, resting her free hand on her belly. "Our hero, sorry," she rectifies, and the fondness in her eyes as she looks down and pets the bump in her abdomen has Mario reconsidering his whole Cake Now, Kisses Later stance.

"Ah, so she likes it too?"

"Who do you think has been giving me all these cravings in the first place?" Spearing another bite of cake on her fork, Peach giggles. "I can assure you she’s very happy right now.”

Mario’s heart leaps in his chest, realizing right away what she means.

The baby’s recently started moving, according to Peach. Subtle movements, movements she can’t really put words to, but gentle and very real affirmations that there’s a fledgling life within her. It tickles, she’s told him.

Mario still hasn’t gotten to experience it yet. He’ll spend long stretches of time with both hands and one ear on her stomach, holding his breath and keeping his muscles as still as humanly possible in the hope that he’ll feel or even hear their baby. Nothing has come of it yet except acute oxygen deprivation and the information that he looks like a Goomba when he’s so intently focused like that.

It’s enough just to know, at least for now. That alone brings him joy beyond words. He eats his cake in silence as Peach tells him about her day so far between bites, half-listening and half just admiring the way she glows in the afternoon sunlight.

Between Peach, who’s eating for two, and Mario, who always eats for two anyway without the excuse of pregnancy, the cake is gone in half an hour.

“Oh… I’m going to regret that,” Peach sighs, but her contented countenance betrays her complete lack of remorse. “Will you walk with me? I’ll be in a sugar coma before sunset if I don’t get some exercise.”

Their walk finds them meandering through the garden’s central hedge maze together, their feet following the familiar path blindly as they chat back and forth about various projects and undertakings and plans they’ve found themselves saddled with of late. Peach is in the middle of pressuring Mario once more to reveal his Big Secret Building Project to her (a nursery, with completely hand-crafted furniture, but he’s still a month or so out from completing it and he so desperately wants it to be a surprise) when it happens again: she stiffens slightly and draws in a quiet but quick breath, stopping mid-sentence and touching her stomach tentatively.

“Peachy?” Mario inquires.

Rather than respond, she takes his hands and places them on her belly, and his heart thumps a bit harder as she guides his left hand to a spot just right of her navel. Then she leaves it there, her hand resting atop his, and waits.

He doesn’t feel anything. The disappointment is short-lived, because even if he can’t feel it, he knows their baby is stirring beneath his hands right now, and the thought alone fills his heart to bursting.

“Don’t be shy now,” Peach urges in a gentle croon, stroking her right hand over the back of his left. “Wasn’t the cake yummy? Don’t you want to tell Papa thank you? I know that would make him very happy.”

Mario clears his throat to avoid choking, because the maternal affection thick in her voice so overwhelms him with love that it’s making him dizzy. He imagines their baby all curled up within Peach, soothed and intrigued by a voice she surely recognizes as her mother’s by now, and then he’s imagining that same baby wrapped in soft blankets and cradled safely in her mother’s arms, being rocked to sleep to the tune of a lullaby in the dim light of the stars—

And then he feels it. A nudge, directly against his palm, quick but pinpointed.

He stares down at his hand for a moment, wondering if maybe he imagined it. Maybe he was daydreaming so hard that now he’s feeling phantom sensations. But when he meets Peach's eyes, he finds her grinning ear to ear, and he knows right away that his senses aren't tricking him.

“Wh—” A matching grin, one filled with disbelief and awe, spreads across his face. “When did—”

“Just earlier today.” Peach chuckles into the knuckles of her gloved left hand. “I was speaking in front of the Parliament, and suddenly she just started kicking. I don’t think I’ve ever had such a hard time keeping a straight face!”

As if on cue, it happens again, a tiny kick against Mario’s palm. Their baby, their little girl, strong and healthy and growing every day and now finally making herself known— it’s too much to bear.

“Ah!” Mario cries, and then he’s kneeling on the cobblestone path, pressing kiss after kiss to that exact spot where he felt his child move for the first time. “Brava!” Mwah! “Nostra talentuosa principessina!” Mwah! “Sei proprio una brava calciatorina!” Mwah!

Peach is shrieking with laughter in no time at all, crying out from ticklishness but making no effort to stop him, and pretty soon he’s laughing right along with her. He really is Number One, he finds himself thinking again, though not in self-satisfactory pride this time around. He’s the number one luckiest and happiest guy in the world.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Bound, Part 16

Previous part

Tim watched Marinette warily out of the corner of his eyes. She hadn’t done anything since their first kiss, seemed content so long as she was allowed to hang off of his arm, but he couldn’t bring himself to trust that – not entirely, at least. Not when she was looking up at him through her lashes, as if he had personally hung the moon and the stars and she would do anything at all to thank him. Not when he was so tempted to simply let her, and a single moment where he was caught off-guard might just doom them both.

Admittedly, though, remaining concentrated on the here and now was making it very difficult to think about what to do moving forward.

He hesitated, before looking at Marinette full-on. Her eyes lit up the moment she realized she had his full attention… lit up, literally, in that they gained a new, faintly silver sheen.

He swallowed thickly. “Hey, I’m really in the mood for a coffee, but I’ve got to work… can you go get me some?”

She blinked, and some of her smile died in favor of a mildly concerned expression. “Coffee? This late at night? You won’t be able to sleep.”

“That’s alright. I have a bunch of stuff I need to do anyways.”

She looked somewhat unconvinced, biting her lip thoughtfully, but then she was smiling again. “Fine, but I deserve a kiss, I think.”

“For helping me do something that’s bad for my health?”

“Because I’m going through soooo much effort to get you what you want,” she corrected lightly, and he could almost see the old her poking through for just a moment, but it was only a moment. “So?”

He considered this, trying to ignore the pleading look in her eyes, the glassy sheen making her look like she was about to cry. “Only on the forehead,” he said. She could turn her head if he went for the nose or cheek, but he would be able to react in time to prevent being tricked if he opted for something that far away from her mouth.

She seemed sated regardless, beaming as she finally let go of his arm. “Deal! No takebacks!”

He watched her leave, something warm threatening to bloom in his chest.

And then his lips curled into a scowl. He stared at the deep lines etched into the skin of his wrists. It was annoying enough, being unable to tell his own thoughts from the ones that Fate had decided for him, watching Marinette give in to it all and seem so happy in a way that he never had been before, knowing that all of their attempts would likely end in nothing… but he couldn’t even fight back. He couldn’t even see the String that was controlling him. Had he been able to, trying to tear it out would only end in pain, and he was scared of finding out just how deep the String would dig into his skin, how it would retaliate.

He was helpless.

He gritted his teeth and started looking into pet stores in the local area. In The Odyssey, Odysseus managed to pierce the veil between life and death with a sacrifice. Tim was willing to take a page out of his book, if that meant that he could get to the end of his own story – whatever that may be.

~

Marinette hummed as she made her way through town, holding two cups of coffee. Neither were for her, of course (why would they be?). She had simply decided that she might as well get extra, since Tim had said he had ‘a bunch of stuff to do’, and implied he wouldn’t be getting much sleep that night, so she had thought ahead and gotten him a second one for after he finished the first.

Maybe she would get a second kiss! Or or or a better kiss!

She was so lost in her fantasies of romance that she almost missed the man in the alleyway. Probably would have missed him, had he not coughed lightly to grab her attention.

She looked over and sent a brief, slightly nervous smile before immediately speeding up.

She walked for about a block before she dared to glance back, only to find that she had lost track of him.

She bumped into someone, and nearly screamed, immediately jerking backwards. Hands caught her by the wrists, and this time she did scream.

No one seemed to notice.

Marinette swallowed thickly. Slowly, she turned her head again to look at him.

He was not tall by any means, but was still tall enough to look down his nose at her as she squirmed, twisting her arms this way and that to try and loosen his grip. Despite his frame, she couldn’t seem to get out.

Alarms blared in the back of her mind, but she couldn’t pinpoint why.

There was nothing particularly interesting about the way he looked, he was utterly average in every possible way. Neutral clothing, a classic hairstyle, a face without a single freckle or mole to distinguish him by. If he wasn’t currently keeping her from leaving, she would have done so without ever giving him a second thought again. She still might, his eyes were hard to look at head-on, and something about the exact features of his face were hard to recall even as she actively stared at him.

“Let me go,” she said, her gaze flicking downwards. Maybe she should just kneecap the guy and run. The coffee was going to go cold at this rate.

“Is that any way to address a God?”

Her head jerked right back up to look at him. “A God?”

The alarms in the back of her head picked up, screaming in utter terror at the prospect of a God taking an interest in her.

Why was she so scared, though?

Probably because Greek Gods didn’t have the best reputation.

Still, with a guy this plain, she couldn’t just take his word for it, could she? Artemis had been utterly otherworldly, this was just a Guy.

Wait, when had she seen Artemis? Why did she know what she looked like?

He chuckled. “Take your time, I know I’m quite the sight to behold, Marinette.”

Marinette was almost tempted to inform him that that was not at all the reason for her silence, but then she decided against it. The fact that he knew her name without her having to introduce herself suggested that he was who he said he was.

“Thank you for your kindness…” she trailed off.

Who was this?

She looked him up and down again, and her eyes narrowed in on his shoes. They looked to be sneakers, at first glance, but now that she was looking closer she noticed that there was a design on them. Wings were painted onto the fabric.

That was important, but what did it mean?

Why did her head feel so… empty of all the things that were supposed to be there?

“Lord Hermes,” he said, apparently taking pity on her… or, at least, tiring of waiting.

“Hermes,” she said, smiling gratefully.

“Please, call me Lord,” he said, smiling in a way that he probably thought was charming. She only saw it as smug.

Though, to be fair, it would be hard for him to charm her, when her heart already belonged to Tim.

She nodded, tipping her head forward just slightly in a bow. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence, Lord?”

He let go of her, and she pretended not to notice the dull sting of bruises forming on her wrists. The skin was marred by angry red divots that reminded her of the lines in Tim’s wrists, and she couldn’t help but smile at the thought of them matching.

“Walk with me?” he asked. “I am the god of travel, after all.”

She nodded easily enough, though something was itching at the back of her mind.

Hermes was the god of a lot of things, wasn’t he? A jack of all trades type?

She felt that that was important. Why, though? What did he rule over, and why was she supposed to care?

She fell into step beside him, frowning at the ground. Trying to parse through her brain was like chasing a rabbit through the woods – no matter how hard she tried, the rabbit was so much faster than her, and it was determined not to let her catch it. The information was there, of that she was sure, but she couldn’t get to it.

“You know,” Hermes said, smiling. “I’m a god of boundaries. It is my job to help guide souls to the afterlife.”

She nodded along.

And then she jolted.

The afterlife.

Tim wanted to go to the Underworld, right?

She lit up. “Can you get Tim and me to the Underworld?”

He didn’t seem surprised in the slightest by his request, though she doubted that he got it often. He continued to smile that perfect smile of his. He looked like a businessman, she thought absently. Maybe that was another thing he had dominion over.

“I can,” he said easily enough.

She beamed.

“But, nothing is free.”

“Anything,” she agreed easily enough. She would do anything if it meant making Tim happy.

His smile turned sharp. “I want to sever your bond with your soulmate.”

Her footsteps stopped cold.

“No.”

Laughter echoed in her ears. It belonged to a woman, but it wasn’t her own.

It set her on edge. Why was she so amused? What was Marinette missing?

Hermes seemed just as pleased by this development. His grin stretched wider. Too wide to fit properly on his face. “‘No’?” he repeated.

“He’s – I’m – no, Lord, I can’t.”

“I thought you would do anything,” he teased, leaning towards her, until their faces almost touched.

“Anything but that,” she said, backing away quickly.

He tipped his head back in a laugh. “Aw, but you won’t even have to do anything. I’ll be the one tearing you apart, you don’t have to lift a pretty little finger.”

“I – I appreciate the offer, Lord, but I will have to pass. Respectfully, we can find another way into the Underworld, but there is no guarantee that our String can be tied back together.”

His laughter petered off, but he seemed no less delighted as he nodded. “I suppose you can’t win them all.”

She nodded her agreement. “Thank you for coming to help me, even if your plans fell through.”

And then Marinette held a coffee out for him.

He stared for a moment, his smile faltering. “This…”

“You’re supposed to give Greek gods offerings, aren’t you?” she said, tilting her head to the side, just as confused as she thought he was.

“We… don’t typically get offerings anymore.”

She wasn’t deterred, continuing to hold it out for him to take. “Then it’s a gift. I have an extra, anyways, so I might as well.”

Slowly, warily, as if he half-expected the cup to be poisoned, he took it from her.

She smiled at him, lifting her now-free hand up in a wave as she headed off again. “Goodbye, Lord.”

“Hermes,” he said, softly, too quietly for her to hear.

She glanced back. She had expected him to be gone again, but he was still standing there, looking at her with an expression she couldn’t quite place. She would think it was guilt but (she was not sure Gods could even feel guilt) what reason would he have to feel guilty?

“Er, sorry, I didn’t catch that?”

He shook his head just slightly, matching her smile inch by inch. “I said that you should tell Tim that it won’t work – Odysseus only managed to commune with spirits.”

She gave him a mildly confused look, but nodded and committed the message to memory regardless.

~

Tim and Marinette stood on the dock, smiling and nodding along dutifully as the man whose boat they were renting explained how it worked.

Neither of them were actually paying attention, though.

Tim already knew, more or less, how to navigate on this type of boat – it wasn’t too dissimilar from the one Bruce, in his infinite paranoia, had once taught him to use. It was a slightly newer model, but not enough so that Tim no longer knew how to drive it. All of the new features were luxury features, anyway, and they were not traveling along Cape Matapan for fun.

Marinette on the other hand was, as always, too busy staring at her soulmate with a lovestruck expression. At least it made their cover of being a couple on a romantic outing more believable.

Finally, the man ended his speech, and Tim sent him one brief smile, shouldering his bag.

“Thank you so much for letting us use your boat on short notice, sir,” Tim said.

The man waved him off, smiling genially. “That stack of money was thanks enough. You two have fun, yeah?”

Tim gave a two-finger salute. “I’ll try my best.”

He stepped onboard carefully, and then turned to offer his hand to help Marinette on, too. She stumbled slightly, crashing face-first into his chest. He didn’t know for sure whether the slight rocking of the boat had actually thrown her off, or if she had simply seen an opportunity to be close to him and taken it, but she was quick to wrap her arms around him regardless.

The man chuckled and lifted a hand in a lazy wave as he walked away.

Tim gave a sigh, looking down at Marinette. It didn’t look like she intended on letting go anytime soon.

“Can you do something for me?” he asked.

She nodded instantly, drawing back to look at him with wide eyes.

“I can’t see magic, so I need you to look for a cavern.”

She nodded dutifully, and rushed to take a seat at the front of the boat, leaning over the railing precariously as she scanned the shoreline.

He almost felt guilty for using her like that, but it was the only want to get her back to normal.

(Or, at least, that was what he hoped. He wasn’t sure what he would do if they cut the String and she remained enchanted.)

He sighed as he took a seat behind the wheel and they were off.

It was a nice day. It was a little on the hot side, but the salty sea spray and a gentle breeze made it far more tolerable. The slight rocking of the boat was peaceful. If he didn’t have a mission to complete, he thought that he might have been happy to lay down beside Marinette on the cushions and laze in the sun.

Maybe they could do that on the way back.

Now, though, they had a mission.

Marinette straightened abruptly, her eyes locked on the tree line. For a moment, her eyes were clearer than they had been in what had felt like forever.

“Marinette?”

“It’s there,” she said. Absently, she waved to someone – or, perhaps, something – Tim couldn’t see. “That’s the Ferryman.”

And he trusted her.

So, he turned the wheel and started heading in the direction she was looking.

~~~

Next part

@laurcad123

[raewritesfiction]

Hunger [Valter Skarsgard]

A/N: based on an anon ask from well over a year ago! I’m so sorry it took this long to get it written. I hope it was worth the wait.

Plot:

Pairing: female!Reader X Valter Skarsgard

Warnings: Smut. Strong language. Oral (female receiving). Over stimulation.

[[ Lemme know if you wanna be added or removed from tags; no questions asked ♥️ likes are amazing however I really appreciate Reblogs to help spread my writing further! Thank you 🌈😘]]

Tag List: @jaseminedenise @nikkitasevoli @iraniq @snewsome756 @vikki-rogue @amelia-in-w0nderland @pandaliciouz @crispyimagines17 @marie-is-blogging @bonniebird @nutinanutshell @louise-buchan @differentcatcat @horribly-limited @rekdreams247 @smugwhore @grandpa-sweaters @purplerain85

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Valter nips and sucks his way down your torso, his hands scratching over your ribs and massaging your breasts; fingers teasing your nipples relentlessly. His mouth continues down until he meets your panty line and grips them in his teeth.

You run your hands over his arms and up to his hands, guiding him to exactly what you wanted while his mouth makes quick work of your panties down your legs; you help by kicking them off to the floor and parting your legs.

Valter’s appetite for your pussy was like nothing you had known before, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

The man nips and kisses along your inner thighs and glides his hands down your form to your hips and then ass, squeezing enough to leave small bruises in your soft flesh. His light kisses and nips steadily become harder as he makes his way up from your knees; his mouth leaving more bruises to match your ass. Just when you were going to resort to begging for his mouth to be against your pussy he buries his face between your legs and sucks over you.

You moan and drop back on the bed, your hands fisting the sheets tightly while his tongue works its magic; dipping into every fold and leaving no part of you untouched before finally pushing inside your dripping cunt. He groans and hooks his arms under your thighs; one arm folding over your lower stomach and holding you against his mouth while the other finds one of your hands and clasps it tight.

Leaning up a little to watch Valter from your position you notice his sniper-like position stretched out on the bed between your legs, his hips rocking against the bed for friction as his lips suck over you, concentrating on your clit in pulses until you’re a squirming mess.

Valter growls and moans against your pussy, looking up under his lids with dark eyes to watch your tits rise and fall with each sharp inhale and exhale of pleasure. He rubs his thumb over your knuckle as you squeeze his hand, flexing your grip with every roll of his tongue.

“Oh god…!” You pant and arch off the bed. “V, I’m so close…!”

He groans roughly against you and doubles down on his efforts on your pussy; sucking, licking and lapping over you from back to front, grazing over you with his teeth and then attaching himself to your swollen clit.

You moan his name loudly and keep a tight hold on his hand in yours, your other pulling hard on the covers with your head starting to spin “feels so good… Too good! I don’t… I…” you whimper and move your hips the best you could.

Valter again sucks in pulses and moans, his hips rutting against the bed with fervour; pulling away for only a moment he looks up at you and says only three words.

“Cum for me…” lowering his mouth once more to your pussy and closing his lips over you. His arm tenses and holds your hips steady when they rock uncontrollably against him. Valter wants this to be all his doing.

You’d never thought the cliche ‘seeing stars’ trope was a real thing but as Valter eats you like you’re his last meal you can honestly say that it’s true because you were pretty sure there was a whole galaxy going off behind your eyelids. You cry out and grind your hips against Valter’s mouth, your thighs clamping his head in place but quickly you try to push him away as the feeling intensifies “too m-…oh!” You pull on the sheet beneath you, heading a loud rip as your eyes roll back in your head.

“Where do you think you’re going?!” Valter moans, pulling you back against him and burying his face against you once more, sucking on your clit hard, his tongue flicking over you quickly and tipping you over to cum again almost instantly.

He groans and laps over you, his arm holding you tight against his face as you cum and your taste on his lips and tongue push him to his own release with a loud moan.

Slowly your body relaxes and you release your iron grip on the bed, his hand and his head. Valter leaves sloppy kisses along your inner thighs again and strokes his hands over your form lightly. He hums quietly and looks up at you. “Are you doing okay baby?”

You manage to nod and hum in response, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. “…you?”

“Oh sweetheart I’m very good…” he smiles and crawls up over you, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close.

“Sorry about the sheets…” you chuckle.

“I take it as a compliment baby!” He smiles and strokes your your back lightly as you fall asleep.

[yunarim]

our rainbow-coloured days will advance forward, so shine forever

❤︎ summary : Yuuka, a completely ordinary magicless girl, finds herself in an incomprehensible predicament. Soulmates appeared in the human world only a few decades ago and still have many inconsistencies, but Yuuka's case, to her dismay, becomes rather unprecedented.

Apparently, her soulmate is waiting for her somewhere beyond this world. ❤︎ tags : female reader, soulmates, reader is yuu, sfw, fluff, pining in some chapters, one character = one soulmate prompt ❤︎ ao3

ִ    ꕤ Rock with you | Cater Diamond

⏤ . . . prompt : when soulmates listening to music at the same time, they can hear what the other one is listening to ⏤ ❤︎ before reading : book one spoilers; references to the previous chapters of this work! (it's just for fun, don't assume they're connected, chapters are completely separated from each other); my personal hc: twisted wonderland has its own language

Being in a Light Music Club was everything Cater could dream of. Having fun time with his friends, doing music when melodies just popped in his mind randomly and somehow arranging into pleasant songs to hear was his greatest joy and outlet. Life is great as it is, but it’s way cooler when you can wash your dishes listening to a masterpiece that just happened to come into the mind and then BAM! and you can be a blockbuster character smashing bad guys and accidentally saving the world (Cater is a little bit sorry for the dishes he broke, maybe not so accidentally he thought he would).

Cater could imagine himself an idol, painting roses red in the graceful yet powerful little dances he did, musical notes lined up in his head, as if playfully running down the stairs, hurrying somewhere and laughing. 

He considered joining Vil’s club just for starring himself in a shoujo drama when he felt how melancholy hit him just right so he isn’t really sad, but a modest glimpse of ennui invaded his mind. 

Life is beautiful when it has the magic of music within. Instrumentals he did were both enchanting and light at the same time, as if emphasizing on Cater’s personality. 

Cater was pinning up his hair with a bobby pin Lilia gave him as a gift of sorts, looking absolutely concentrated on something, his hand holding a pen, copybook pages wrinkled here and there, peculiar stickers on the margins. He was mumbling something to himself with his headphones on when Riddle approached him.

“Cater-senpai, it’s your time to paint— Ah, you’re doing it again.”

The presence of Ace and Deuce behind the dorm leader’s back remained completely unnoticed by Cater, who was immersed in writing as if he was possessed. Unidentified symbols, signs and translation filled pages up, some of them were messy as hell, some arranged in a neat way.

Ľ̶̳̀o̷̧̓͗v̶͓̖̟̀e̷̡̱̻͗ = love. Confirmed! idk how tho just have a feeling

S̴̨̅̃̚k̸͔̎̚y̷̱̳̍ = sky?..

Ḓ̸̆͜r̷̗̋̍͊e̴͍̪̔͂͐à̶̝̭̫̐m̸̯̫��̍̏̂ = dream maybe

Words like ̴̧̗͂͌̋‘̷͓̬͓̈́s̴̘̓̐a̸̱̘̓̓͐d̶͍̿̊’̸͚̭̇̊̃ͅ,̶̣͋́ ̵̞̖͌̋‘̷̖͂̽̏ḑ̵̽a̸͔͛̉̋ŗ̴̼͉̂k̷̡̮̟̈́’̷̤͉̰͂͝,̸̖͍͋ ̴̧̛͓‘̸̼̫̓b̵̪͑̋̌r̶͔̯̱͛ơ̶̈͊͜k̴̫̍̈́̆e̷̱̔̍ǹ̶̗͖̙͐̎’̷̮̬͑̎͠,̶̞̌̇́͜ ̶͓̗̦̅͊͝‘̴̨̫́̑h̸̤̺͂̆ͅe̸͇͉̿a̶͙͉͐ṟ̴͈͌̕ṱ̴̤̔’̴͔̘̓̎͝,̴̪̰̐̓͠ ̴͇̹̻̌͝‘̸̨̹̟̾̉̅s̸̨̉͂o̸̪̮͆u̷̥̎͝l̷̛̖̰̥̈́̈́’̸̠̈͑̊  are used in a negative connotation, but it is acceptable to use some of them in a positive way. These words are often used in opposition to each other, more detailed study is required.

Cater bit his lip, carefully listening to the sad melody that almost made him cry, but he felt that this was not the time and place for this.

“What’s with Cater-senpai?..” Deuce said subtly. 

“Yeah, I never saw him in that state before.”

“It’s understandable since you’re the first-years,” Riddle let out a sigh, taking a peek on Cater’s notes. “First of all, it’s only you two who don’t make any effort in studying…”

“But Cater-senpai isn’t studying anything related to NRC either!” 

“Yes, that is the problem… He’s still much more devoted than you two,” Riddle sighed once again. “In any case, Cater has been writing something for a whole time I know him.”

Cater, who didn’t pay any attention to a cute little troublemakers aka ADeuce duo and his own dorm leader, suddenly giggled and turned to them. 

“Guys, I’m right here, just tag me and I’ll answer asap,” he closed his copybook, standing up from the chair. “I guess you’re interested?”

“We are,” Deuce confirmed.

“Welp, don’t you guys know I’m a musician?” ADeuce duo replied with incoherent mumbles, while Cater just giggled once again and Riddle decided to give up on them all. “Aight, that’s it for now, throw your likes at my newest reels on MagiCam and I’ll tell you the rest~ Okie, off to painting roses now, bye-bye!”

“Somehow he’s easy to understand and somehow he’s not at the same freaking time,” Ace let out a little ‘tch’ sound when Riddle warned him about his wording. 

“I know you won’t be over until he tells you something, so in order to prevent your antics, I’ll give you a hint. These notes are related to his soulmate.”

“Cater-senpai has a soulmate?!”

“Now, off to your studies!!”

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

Cater didn’t hide that he had a soulmate. Why would he when their bond was so beautiful and charming? He loved music, his soulmate was connected to music too. The simplest formula to learn by heart, interesting to analyze and just right to mess with. 

Cater-senpai, have you figured out who your soulmate is?

Cater, you do realize no one in Twisted Wonderland can speak this language? You can’t speak something all alone and claim it as a language at this point.

It was difficult sometimes. He heard Deucey managed to find his soulmate in a very cringey way which quickly became a hot-topic on MagiCam. Speaking about MagiCam, Vil was always mentioning how his soulmate’s fashion sense improved thanks to him. Was it Leona who showed up in an auditorium with a strong floral scent around him? Even his fellow Lilia somehow didn’t lose his mediator this time! 

Cater smiled to himself, brushing off his open jealousy. He had a soulmate, everything was fine. 

It just happened so they were not from Twisted Wonderland. Or maybe they existed long ago and he was attached to a ghost. Or maybe both.

He didn’t want to admit he missed them. How would they look when they listened to a fluffy pop song the other day? What kind of expression would they make when his ears were flooded with a dreary ballad? Were they screaming and going a little crazy when they listened to heavy metal? It would be so cool to introduce them to his friends, make music together…

Life is beautiful when it has the magic of music within. Cater put on his headphones, volume is just enough to hear Riddle in case he shows up to check if the roses are painted in a deep-red color or did he accidentally choose a lighter one. He was in the mood for something melancholic, maybe relaxing. His sunny side covered behind a dark ephemeral veil. 

He pressed a button on his sad songs playlist, making it shuffle, so he wouldn’t know which one starts playing right now. He memorized all the lyrics with more devotion he would actually admit even to himself, a vulnerable part of him showing so seldom to others they didn’t even know it existed. 

First ten seconds played, and he grabbed a brush, dipping it in a jar of scarlet paint, and faintly inhaled the enamel alcohol smell. Smooth relaxing instrumental with a sweet vocals complimented his mood perfectly, and—

“O-oh!..” he suddenly jumped out of surprise, almost dropping the brush he was holding, a few scarlet stains appearing on his uniform. “Jeez, wrong timing…”

EDM song popped in his head, unknown language invaded his mind once again, unfamiliar instrumental causing him to listen to carefully. 

Look, he wasn’t in the mood for an experimental song with unique beats and contemporary R&B hints! He wanted to indulge in melancholy and mourn at least a little! He wished his soulmate could figure it out from listening to what he was planning to listen to. But why in the world did the song happen to be so addictive?..

His soulmate was his guardian angel and worst nightmare at the same time. He couldn’t even understand if he was either sad or hyped up right now, but the song caused him to do a thing that started as a little dance and ended up being a whole damn performance. 

Words in unknown language slipped his lips, making many first-years who were in the garden at the time turned their heads to Cater singing his heart out, almost guessing which line would come up next. 

The song was playing on repeat, and Cater left his sadness long forgotten, all roses were perfectly painted with the exact color scheme Riddle wanted to see, and in the end he just fell on the grass, staining his uniform and making it messy, but he didn’t care. 

“ Can I be your boyfriend, can I?.. ” Cater sang along with the singers. “I wonder if it means what I think it does.”

Whether his soulmate really liked this song and wanted Cater to become an addict too or was they just hyping him up — he didn’t know. 

But was grateful anyway.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

It was next year when the headmaster suddenly announced a small concert which of course should be well prepared by the Light Music Club. 

Something to celebrate that Riddle has overcome his overblot and nobody got hurt, just a little party with cool music for everyone to have fun and— oh please, the members didn’t even dwelled on details since every party should include only three things: fun, them and some spiciness to end the day to make it even more fun! 

“Yo, guys, let’s gather some ideas!” Cater suggested, mindlessly plucking guitar strings and smiling at Kalim and Lilia who were just as enthusiastic as he himself. 

“How about we do covers of the latest popular releases?” Kalim answered. “You know, ‘Piece of my world’ as an opening would do!”

“Hoho, true!” Lilia glanced slyly at Cater’s copybook he always carried around. “And how about we produce our own song?”

“Oooh! Such a great idea, Lilia!!” Kalim seemed to be on cloud nine, while Cater certainly did catch a hint Lilia gave to him. “What’s your thoughts, Cater?”

“Actually… Yeah, why not!” he opened his copybook, Kalim and Lilia immediately got closer. “How about we practice singing in an unknown language my soulmate speaks?”

Kalim and Lilia, experimental they are, agreed and dwelled on learning how the pronunciation system worked and the way words formed into sentences… Everything was great, Kalim and Lilia throwing conspiratorial glances at each other which remained unnoticed by Cater while he was explaining, his eyes shining with a joyful gleam, proud smile on his face.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

Yuuka did her best trying to guess what kind of language was occupying her head since she got her first mp3 player. 

Her parents were questioning her whether she was alright with staying in her room for a whole day, doing her research about ancient languages. Her sudden passion awakening was very welcomed by them, but it was quite concerning at the same time. 

“Who do you want to be when you grow older?”

A steady answer, no hesitating in her voice and pride in the eyes of teachers and her parents. 

“A philologist.”

She could grasp languages quite easily, as if she seized a natural talent and congenital predisposition to understand any language she piqued her interest in. But it was never enough.

What the hell was ‘L̶̩͛̒̑ê̷͍̰̮ṱ̸̋͝’̶̝̲͓̂s̶̳̍͜ͅ ̵̡̐͑̽g̷̪̽̔ö̵͎̤̊̐ ̶̹̗̀́͐t̸̻͗o̸͓̟̓̉ ̷͎̔̆W̴̙̑o̶̱̪̬̓n̴̩̘̈́d̵̡̳̓̌͒e̴̥̙͆̉r̶͉̔l̷̘͍̎̿̕ä̶̯͉́͗n̶̛̞̙̿̐d̸̢̮̯͌̚!̷̯͚̋͒͆͜’ ?

She studied Japanese, it was a bit similar, but she just felt symbols were different, pronunciation differed from Japanese she knew, there were no hints of Chinese or whatsoever, so what the hell was it? Some kind of old dialect which sunk into oblivion and was lost on the pages of ancient history?

The times she wasn’t so immersed in studying and making her own dictionary she just enjoyed her soulmate’s music taste. A great variety of genres, from EDM to classical masterpieces embraced her, sometimes empathizing her mood one day and causing her to turn her current feelings upside down from sad ones to all giddy and sweet another. 

It was a gloomy rainy day when her favorite idols dropped their new album. A cheerful song with nice encouraging lyrics made her feel so much better she decided to put it on repeat, but oh well, her soulmate had other plans. 

She knew she couldn’t listen to it while her kindred spirit was apparently feeling down, but still…

They were nice. She wanted to believe a person with such a rich music taste can’t be bad. It was naive, childish and not so smart of her, but there was a little glimpse of genuine hope her soulmate was mentally alright. The amount of times they listened to sad songs got her almost depressed too, so she thought maybe… just maybe there was a way to cheer them up?

Yuuka swallowed her desire to enjoy the newest release, so that her soulmate could rewind and wait a little longer until they find each other?

She could never forget that day she cried so hard at the lyrics she couldn’t take it more, tears trickled down her cheeks onto the pillow, and she tried to brush them away in vain with her sleeves, shuddering into sobs and hoping that she would soon be able to meet her kindred spirit.

Life is beautiful when it has the magic of music within, after all.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

Cater once realized he didn’t hear peculiar language anymore. 

Not so long after Riddle’s overblot he realized he missed how it sounded. Cater observed his notes over and over again, giving his soul into creating a perfect song for a concert, so he could at least make it stay in someone else’s memory, language remaining unforgettable. 

Were they okay?

He wished for his soulmate’s health, hoping they just broke their phone or just went on a holiday somewhere so there was no internet connection. 

He missed them badly, his feelings finding its way to the song he was arranging, sweet lyrics he hoped he guessed right were intertwining with a dashing instrumental, emphasizing on how he felt. It almost sounded like a love confession and it actually was, despite no one could figure it out. And there was no point in this since who actually cared? Cater used this little concert as a way to blurt out what his head was occupied with while others could just have fun and forget about it right away.

He ran his fingers along the strings, checking the guitar and making a light pleasant sound with it, and responded to the call of Lilia, who called him backstage.

He quickly returned to his position but was a bit startled when he saw Yuuka talking to Kalim.

Oh, what a girl she was. Mysterious, adventurous and sweet, they instantly hit it off, and even though they didn’t have much time to get to know each other better yet, they still tried to meet and buy some coffee while walking across the campus. She was so charming Cater thought he could just ask her out, guided by his curiosity all at once. Well, maybe he could try someday if she wouldn’t be against it.

She must have her soulmate too. 

In any case, she spotted Cater entering backstage and promised Kalim to get in touch more often when she ran off to his senior and smiled back. They exchanged high-fives, an inexplicable electrical impulse went through their skin, at which they laughed nervously and made up all sorts of jokes every time, as if they were comic book characters with superpowers to control electricity.

“Yo, Cater. Looking handsome as always!” She complimented him, winking playfully at which he giggled in a response. 

“What a cutie you are, Yuuka~ What are you doing here?”

“Don’t tell me I wasn’t invited to your concert!” 

“Aha, no, not that. Backstage, I mean.”

“Just wanted to cheer you up! I’m so excited since Kalim told me you made a brand new mind-blowing song. How could I not be so hyped up?”

“Oh, gotta have a little talk with him about spoilers! Anyway, thank you. Are you in the front row?”

“I am! Actually… Have this!” She gave him a cute little cat sticker, and Cater almost thought it was a Grim-looking image of a cat, but then noticed it was white and had a pink ribbon on its ear. “Consider it lucker charm. It’s the last sticker from my world.”

“Eeh? Why would you give me something so precious?”

“In exchange I want you to make me listen to a total bop, a soty no one can ever beat. So, deal?”

“You sound like Azul though,” Yuuka gave him a questioning look, noticeably confused at who Azul was. Ah right, she might have not encountered him yet anywhere beside the opening ceremony. “Alright, just you wait!”

He tucked this cute little sticker in his pocket, making sure Yuuka found her way to the front row and gave her a thumbs-up as the concert began. 

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

The atmosphere at the concert was amazing. Soon everyone was jumping up from their seats, giving in to the rhythm and entangling their partners and friends in an energetic dance. Kalim came up with several games to raise interest, Lilia almost scared the crowd away when he decided to give out free homemade cakes.

“Alright, guys, it’s time!!” Kalim announced when the crowd was all hyped up. 

“We decided to surprise you with something absolutely unique!” Lilia added, adjusting his guitar on his shoulders. 

“Let me explain, guys!” Cater took a sticker out of his pocket, inadvertently sticking it on the body of the guitar and giving Yuuka a quick, amused look. “I believe almost all of you know I have a soulmate, but now it’s time to spill the beans!”

“Yay, tea!” Yuuka encouraged him, causing the crowd to giggle at her commentary. 

“Actually me and my soulmate can hear songs we’re listening to! But the thing is, no one in Twisted Wonderland speaks their language. So we’ve decided to write a song in it, it’s a total bop, hope you’ll like it! Alright, let’s get it!��

Yuuka felt something prick in her heart, and clenched her shirt in her fists involuntarily.

She closed her mouth with her hands when she heard words in a familiar language fall from Cater’s lips. Her heart beat fast in anticipation of the next lines, and the world seemed to cease to exist, shrinking to the size of her, standing right next to the stage, and Cater, who was looking somewhere into the void with such a dreary and dreamy look that she was ready to burst into tears at that very second. 

The song was coming to an end when Yuuka lost her composure and began sobbing, while everyone around her was dancing energetically, managing to sing along here and there. Suddenly Cater switched to a gentle whisper, not realizing he was hearing him singing as if everything happened from the perspective of another person. 

“E̵̤̎v̵̥̎ḛ̴͗n̷͙͗ ̶̛̠ị̵̀f̴͔̚ ̵͍̊t̸̙͋h̴̘́e̵̝̊ ̴̝̈w̶̦͒ǫ̷͑r̵̯̚ḻ̷́d̶̝̚ ̸̀͜i̶̮͛s̶͎̈́ ̴͓̿e̷͕͛ń̷̦d̷̹͘i̵̛̘n̵̼͠g̸̹̈”, he sung in a dreamily manner. 

“I̴ ̸w̶a̶n̸n̴a̶ ̶r̴o̷c̸k̴ ̵w̴i̴t̷h̷ ̷y̴o̷u̵.”

“I wanna stay with you.”

When the song ended, the audience burst into applause. Some whistled at the performers, some shouted in delight, and only Yuuka stood alone in front of the stage, trembling in tears.

“Hope you liked the song!” Cater announced, not noticing he lost his hair tie and his ginger strands disheveled on his face.

Kalim stayed on the stage, suddenly turning into a DJ and giving Lilia and Cater a break during which Cater wanted to find Yuuka and ask her opinion.

He did find her still trembling in shock and went blank himself. Oh Sevens, what did he do wrong? Was his voice so bad it was unbearable? Or—

“H-hey, Yuuka, are you alright?..”

“You just had to arrange such a cheerful sounding song with such heartbreaking lyrics?!”  

Cater thought his heart could combust right there. She was the only one crying while everyone was having fun, not even taking at least a little guess on what he actually meant. There was no way he could be wrong. Was there?..

“Wait,” he chuckled nervously. “Wait, wait. What do you mean?..”

“Ah, Cater, just…” she shuddered, swallowing back her tears and smiling a little sadly. 

Yuuka sighed, placing a hand on top of his own and stepping a bit closer to him, suddenly noises around them reduced, as if someone turned it off like an old annoying radio.

“I wanna stay with you too. If you’re okay with it.”

Was it her voice, steady and confident, or maybe the way she sounded so crystal clear, her pronunciation neat and pleasant to hear, so Cater just enveloped her in a hug, smiling like an idiot and completely ignoring Lilia whistling alongside with the crowd?

“Suddenly you’re making it so corny like we’re a couple at a football match who just got spotlighted and forced to kiss each other,” she chuckled, welcoming his warm embrace. 

“Aha, voicing out loud your desires?” she hit him slightly and burst into laughter at his response. “Ah, I know!”

He guided her on stage, while she cringed at the way he suddenly considered her some sort of a princess, but nevertheless Cater’s eyes were reminiscent of a flickering pink little hearts while he looked at her with pure adoration. 

“Can I be your boyfriend, can I?”

Pink dusted her cheeks as she nodded and giggled when he pressed a sweet smooth kiss on the corner of her lips, accompanied by cheers from the crowd.

“Heya, Cater, what did you saaay!~” Kalim asked when Lilia came to him.

“Do you think it is really important? Besides, their actions speak louder than words.”

Yuuka giggled once again, the warm feeling of Cater’s lips still remaining on her skin.

“Actually,”  she smirked. “The whole first verse was horrible, you got clauses all wrong, but I could give you bonus points for your pronunciation.”

“Hey!! We were working hard on that part!”

“Sure, sure,” she snuggled closer to him, her legs dangling off the stage randomly, like a child who has just been given a candy that one has wanted to eat after being forced to eat plain porridge. “But at least you have me to help you now!”

Life is definitely beautiful when it has the magic of music within. 

❤︎ notes :

song : rock with you - seventeen

*Can I be your boyfriend, can I? - reference to 'Blooming Day' by EXO-CBX *sticker with a cat is a reference to hello kitty since i'm a hardcore simp sry guys

© ayavielle 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Chemistry Ch. 3 - Franken Stein / Reader

Summary: A conversation between you and Stein got a little out of hand.

Warnings: Slight Angst and Cussing, Implications of Smut in the End

[Masterlist]

"Not good...I'm bored."

The sun had already rose, shining through the small window behind Stein's working desk as it announced the start of a new morning. And just like this, his futile sleeping efforts so far were now completely off the table.

All night, your partner had neither been able to concentrate nor find any kind of joy out of the usual antics occupying his mind - and it was easy to guess where this was coming from.

He carefully glanced to the side, seeing you still resting peacefully on the sofa next to him, chest having ever so slightly in your sleep. Slowly feeling himself dissociating again, countless possibilities crossed his mind as he watched you, all reprehensible in their different ways.

This would have to do for now...

Not even an hour later, you awoke with a loud shriek, panicking at the foreign room before your sleep-drunk self remembered what place you're at again.

"So noisy..." Stein turned the screw in his head, the clacking and whirring sounds never failing to send shivers down your spine.

"What the fuck, Stein!" your surprised gasp quickly turned into an accusatory yell as you pulled up your shirt, just to find several marker lines drawn on your skin. "You didn't dissect me, did you?!"

"So much for your trust" was not really a sufficient answer, though the more you looked for actual incisions, the more your anger would fade. "Sorry..."

"...but wait: Did you peek under my shirt?" You took the pillow from under your head, landing a direct blow to his face. "Pervert! Creep! Go to hell!"

"You're being so dramatic..." Stein rubbed the back of his head without a hint of guilt on his face, adjusting the glasses you almost broke. "It was just a prank. You can take a shower to wash it off if you want."

"As if! No wonder no one can endure being in the same room as you without wanting to murder you at some point." Okay, maybe that was a bit harsh...

...especially when your eyes darted around the room, just to find a blanket next to your feet he apparently had covered you with last night.

You chewed the lip you were formerly pouting with, swallowing your pride as you uttered a rueful apology.

"Don't worry, I'm used to hearing worse." Even though he laughed it off as if it was nothing, that statement didn't really make you feel less miserable - at least until Stein suddenly stood in front of you, softly raising your chin. "Stop being so sensitive. I said it's alright."

"O-Okay. Let's just go, we're late again."

___

"How about you try out something else than dissecting for your lectures?"

"Like what?" That man really is beyond help sometimes... "You know, something actually useful for their duty?"

While Stein was certainly a talented and knowledgeable technician without equal, his teaching methos were more than questionable...

...which could be due to his general repulsion against any institution that ignores individuality itself.

"I'm training my students according to their distinct needs." Just like Black Star for example, whom he had given a method to lenghten the usage of Tsubaki's Uncanny Sword mode. "Mhh...whatever you say."

"Hey, you two!"

"Oh, hi Senpai!" It was almost adorable how much respect the two still had for each other - even though the two would probably never openly admit it, you could always see Stein's eyes light up a little whenever he saw his former companion.

"Hey, Spirit! The weather is nice, come sit with us!"" you greeted the Death Scythe, not letting your annoyance slip through, with Stein patting the free space next to him on the bench.

Truth be spoken: It was kind of weird how often the three of you would run into each other lately - though in Stein's presence, Spirit would not even dare to direct a wrong word at your direction.

"No, thanks. I'm good" your colleague declined politely, a stern look on his face as he asked "Y/N, could you leave us alone for a second?"

"S-Sure..." Watching your partner as you rose from your seat, his look told you he seem to know what this is about either. "I'll be waiting for you in front of the classroom, okay?"

Stein gave you a little nod, trying to calm you down with his usual, reassuring yet fake smile you could sadly see right through...

...dropping his expression as soon as you were around the corner.

"So" Spirit started the conversation, almost hilariously trying to appear tough even though everyone knew how much Stein's presence intimidated him nonetheless. "I've seen you and Y/N come to work together this morning."

"So what?" Lighting one of his disgusting cigarettes, he offered one to Spirit who reluctantly accepted. "She slept at my place."

Somehow the ultimate Death Scythe had expected some more secretiveness instead of this upfront answer - and he wasn't sure whether this was a good or bad sign.

"Now don't fuck with me!" he now grabbed the collar of Stein's lab coat, harshly pushing him against the brick wall behind them. "I'm not afraid of you anymore, I tell you! And if you're gonna play games with our valuable weapon, you're gonna be punished for sure! By me or a lot of others, it doesn't matter!"

Stein's cigarette had fallen to the ground and he exhaled deeply, blowing a small cloud of steam to Spirit's face, who in return had to cough heavily. "I guarantee you, I'm on my best behavior."

"C'mon, don't lie to me! We've seen it ourselves - she's your Soulmate, and now you're turning this fact into one of your sick experiment, right?!"

"Oh, is that so?" Stein remained stoic, almost indifferent at this revelation - on the outside, at least. "I've had a feeling, but wasn't sure myself. And Y/N is completely clueless, I think."

"...and you didn't talk to her about it?"

"I considered, but decided against it." Stein's hands were stuffed in his pockets without doing so much as defending himself. "Guess she's just better off without such a depressing truth, don't you think?"

This bond alone was no guarantee for happiness, after all. Some people are born without a Soulmate, others lose them way too early.

Just like Spirit's wife, destined to stay with a guy that runs after every woman he lays eyes on - sometimes it's not fair.

People are able to lead a fulfilled life without their Soulmates, a better one even...

...and in this specific case, Stein was sure to do you a favor.

"You've already hooked up with her, smartass. No matter what you say, you're already in way too deep!"

"We did not sleep with each other" Stein groaned in irritation, and at his words Spirit would finally let go off of him. "And I have no idea you're so invested in my private life. We're both adults."

"...anyway" the Death Scythe spat, back facing his old partner as he prepared to part ways. "Keeping such an important decision from her is pretty selfish, don't you think?"

"Still none of your concern. Oh, and Senpai?" Just when Spirit turned around, he felt Stein's hand at his neck, lifting the smaller man up with ease. A crooked, menacing grin streched across his face, wild eyes boring into the Scythe's skull.

"If you say anything to Y/N, I'll dissect you - for real this time."

___

"Hey, Dr. Slipover."

You crouched over the man who was currently lying on the floor together with his rolling chair - like always. "Umm...you alright down there?"

"Now don't just stand there. Be a darling and help me up, would you?" Seeing the baffled look on your face at the nickname, he instantly regret his choice of words.

It wasn't like him to be so erratic while not influenced by madness...

...yet now that he couldn't deny your bond any longer, his heart was in constant battle if he should curse this fate or give in to his desire.

"You know, I could just roll you through the hallways, old man."

"Please don't" he chuckled darkly, still lying on his back. "People already think I'm a bad influence for you."

"So, what did you call me here for?" You offered him a hand like so many times before - and for the fraction of a second, Stein felt the urge to pull you down to lie on him...

...however, he insisted on getting up by himself, patting off the dirt of his lab coat. "Sorry, I need to go." Without even giving you a proper explanation, Stein rushed away, leaving you rather confused.

For the rest of the day, you neither saw nor heared anything of your partner.

Though you catched some gossip in the teacher's lounge, about how he's behaving even stranger than usually. You knew where to find him, probably burying himself into his work like always when the real world was too much to process...

...but you were unsure if visiting him would overstep your boundaries, only knowing him so much.

In the end, worry got the better off you when Stein wouldn't show up even way after the agreed time...

...bursting in on a scene you rather shouldn't.

"...or perhaps because you're a witch?" Stein had confronted Medusa just moments before, aware of the danger shall his accusation be true.

While he assumed that Medusa wouldn't attack, unwilling to give up the undercover position she maintained at Death Academy, he couldn't be too sure about his own safety...

...luckily for him, before the witch could decide on a strategy, you interrupted the two as you sheepishly let yourself in to the medical ward.

"Stein...? I- oh."

"I'm so glad you came, Y/N!" Medusa yelled, acting overexaggeratedly helpless as she hid behind you. "Your partner is harassing me!"

Stein, to not further involve you in his dangerous investigations, joined right in her play. "Haha, sure you're not mistaking me with my Sensei?"

"No wonder you have been partners for so long! You're just as indespicable as Spirit!" she exclaimed, before storming out of the room - leaving you alone with your mental cinema.

"Good to see you." Stein chose to not comment on the event any further, hoping you wouldn't pry. "Thanks for waiting, I'm done with everything now. Let's go!"

"Actually" you interjected, incapable of maintaining a straight face after what you thought you had just witnessed. "I think I'm not joining you today. Sorry."

He was shaking. Whatever they were doing together in that room all day, it was affecting him that much.

You involuntarily felt tears creep into your eyes, threatening to fall the more you thought about it. No, he has every right to do as he pleases.

The two of you were partners, sheer work-wise. Nothing more, nothing less.

And still - why does your heart ache so much?

"Y/N, wait." You felt Stein's hand grip your forearm tight, effectively keeping you from escaping as well. "What's wrong all of a sudden?"

"I just want to go home, is something wrong with that?" His face dropped when he noticed your glossy eyes, a trembling lip underlining the sadness in your voice. "Please...let me go."

"No."

The man pulled you back into the room, slamming the door shut. "I can't let you go now. It's too dangerous." There was a determination in his tone that startled you, unable to understand where this is coming from.

"Look at me" he whispered with a low voice, his arms around you trapping you in his hold.

"Let me go, Stein..." You tried to break free from his embrace, the hurt you felt intensifying at the feeling of being a stopgap. "And I thought you were a gentleman...just because you couldn't have your ways with Medusa doesn't mean I'm your plaything now."

"What the hell are you even talking abou-" A slap of yours cut him right off, now finally able to break free from his touch.

"Medusa's not even gone for five minutes, and now you're locking me up in here and starting to hug me all of a sudden! How do you think this comes across?!"

"...wrong, I guess."

"Wow, finally you get how someone else might be feeling. Congratulations! And now let me go-"

"Medusa is a witch." You stopped right in your tracks, eyes widening as your hand recoiled from the doorknob. "What?!"

"It's just a theory, of course" he explained, seemingly churned by the current events. "But Sid and Naigus have been entrusted with investigating Medusa's hideout, and they haven't returned ever since."

Now your tears ran freely, the sight alone making Stein's insides churn - that was the complete opposite of what he wanted to achieve, damn it!

"Promise me you're not lying" you spoke in between choked sobs, feeling pathetic being all emotional in such a situation. "Not as some kind of wicked joke or to save your own ass."

"Why would I lie about something so serious?!"

"Well, I'm your partner!" Balling a fist in the fabric of your shirt, you spoke whatever was on your mind right now - admittedly, not really objective. "You could have confided in me. Why didn't you?!"

"Because I'm worried about you, damnnit!" he almost screamed in distress of you not believing in him, shaking you ever so slightly...

...only lowering his voice when you flinched at his outburst, a horrified expression on your face. "S-Sorry...I didn't mean to scare you, I-I just couldn't forgive myself if something happened to you."

"I am a Death Scythe, and I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself" you insisted stubbornly, refusing to meet his eyes much to his misery. "I don't need you for that."

"...but I need you" Stein ultimately confessed, a heavy weight being lifted from his chest as soon as the words left his lips.

Before you were able to react, your partner's mouth crashed over yours, body melting against your much smaller one in the heat of the moment.

There was an urgency to his kiss that frightened you, in the way his breathing hitched when he felt you reciprocating the gesture. He was pressing you against himself, almost as if trying to make you a part of himself.

Your lips were soft, almost silken against his rough ones, the taste of tobbaco teasing your tongue and you felt your own hands slowly wandering to caress him as well.

To Stein, it felt like the most horrific bliss, as if his corrupted self was tainting the most wonderful soul he ever had the privilege to lay eyes upon.

When your lips would finally part again, Stein would keep his eyes closed - afraid of the consequences of his indecent venture...

...until you tenderly touched the scar on his face, following it's outline all the way back to the back of his neck.

"Stein?" you asked, almost hoarsely through the turmoil of emotions inside of you. "Y-Yes" he gulped harshly, "What is it?"

"...fuck me."

"Wha- ah...shit, Y/N!" You had dragged the man down to your height, tracing ghostly kisses along his clavicula as you slowly stiped off his coat.

"I'm not going to repeat myself."

One thing was sure: Now that he had gotten a taste of this self-forbidden fruit, there was no going back now.

[nycorix]

Lucienne & The Throne Room

Posting another excerpt from the sandman fic I am working on! It's going to be long and Involved lmao but this scene is pretty close to the beginning - basically, the weather in the Dreaming is fucked and Lucienne has taken it upon herself to investigate why. (Lucienne, the real MVP at all times)

More of this nonsense can be found in this post ! *~*~*

It only takes her three tries to find the throne room. She allows herself a moment of satisfaction, then lets herself in, bracing almost unconsciously.

She has no idea what to expect—the Dream Lord experiences as wide a range of emotions and troubles and snits as the mortals whose unconsciousness he curates, though he is loath to admit it. And while she is a firm believer in the concept of expressing one’s emotions in a healthy way, and Dream has made leaps and bounds of progress in the time she has known him, she also knows his instinct is still to suppress the above with a vigilance bordering upon desperation. 

The trouble with this is it invariably leaks out through the cracks of his consciousness despite his best efforts, which directly affects the very fabric and nature of the Dreaming itself—which is, of course, the environment that she and Nuala and the rest of his subjects all reside in. Whatever this fog is, she is certain that it must be dealt with as early as possible.

The throne room is bitterly cold.

She can see her breath in clouds before her as she strides across the cavernous space. The chill from the fog itself has not yet left her bones, but this is worse; and she shivers, slipping her hands into the pockets of her coat almost unconsciously.

She can see him, seated at the base of the throne stairs, cloak pooled around him like a shadow. His breath is cloudless.

Apart from the clime of the room, Lucienne can see nothing amiss—he is wraithlike and ephemeral in presence, alabaster-pale, bent gracefully over his work in either brooding or concentration, the fall of his dark hair hiding the deep furrow of his brow—but all of this, of course, is normal.

In his lap is a ledger, ornate and leather bound; he holds a feather quill, pinched between finger and thumb as if it may break or disappear, etching across the empty pages perfect lines of his loopy scrawl. 

So: official business, then. The dream journals of the mortals and others under his care dutifully write themselves in his absence, but very occasionally a spell will come upon him, a trance almost, nearly fitlike, and he will spend hours upon hours transcribing entries himself, usually for a specific Dreamer that has for some reason arrested his attention. 

Lucienne clears her throat to announce her presence, stepping forward. 

I did not call for a librarian, he says before she’s even halved the distance.

Lucienne, to her credit, does not break pace, though even after untold centuries of devoted service she will never fully be prepared for the weight his words command, the way they seduce and rebuff in equal measures. His voice is the rust on an old blade, the first breath of a storm, sharp ivory sheathed in the darkest velvet—but it is distant, here, his consciousness lost in the pages of some special Dreamer’s dreams, a monotone echo of habit rather than any true expression of disapproval.

“I know, my Lord,” she answers—drawing near enough to speak quietly, keeping enough distance to remain unable to read the journal. “But perhaps you may yet have use of my assistance?”

And she waits.

He makes a sound that is neither acquiescence, acknowledgement, or dissent, yet manages to somehow be all three at once. The ledger shifts in his lap, and he catches the edge with a thumb. He frowns, pen stilling. Turns a page. The shadows on his face deepen, and his shoulders slowly drop.

He looks up.

Is something the matter? He stares at her with the wide-open concern of someone just woken from sleep, stars glinting in the facets of his eyes.

She tilts her head in deference as her gaze sweeps up and down the whole of him. While nothing seems pressingly wrong, she knows better than to trust his appearance alone. “I was hoping to ask that question of you, sir,” she replies, with all the gentle respect she can muster.

He blinks. Of me. Why would you think to…

There’s a distinct confusion buried beneath his careful mask, mixed with a worry so tinged with the promise of panic that she relents and spares him the spiral of thought. He is, after all, still getting his bearings. Would be, she thinks, for some time yet—for it’s not just the present Dream work that’s preoccupying him.

“The weather, my Lord,” she explains, swallowing the start of a smile as a part of him visibly relaxes. “We were….” she pauses, delicately. “Unsure.”

Morpheus rises as she speaks, eyes falling shut as he turns his attention to the Dreaming. Between moments, in a motion so fluid it is almost indiscernible, the book and pen are folded into the lining of his cloak. Something in his expression resolves, and he exhales, long and soft, thin smoke guttering from his lips. When he opens his eyes, they are blue again. And when he opens his eyes the room warms, as if touched by the first rays of a sunrise.

Unsure, he repeats, a dry twist of amusement bringing an almost human quality to him. And of what do you require certainty, then - my condition, or my intent?

“Both, sir.” She gives honesty without hesitation; and this time, she does allow herself a smile in reflection of his own.

[safethaw]

Fixing Concrete Cracks: A Diy Guide.

Alright, pull up a seat and maybe a cold one. Let's chat about those pesky concrete cracks in your driveway. I mean, every time you walk out to get the mail or pull in with your car, there it is, mocking you. But guess what? Today's the day we stand tall and say, "Not on my watch, crack!" From Hairlines To Canyons: Why Do Cracks Happen Anyway? Concrete, as sturdy as it looks, can throw a fit sometimes. Tree roots, heavy loads, maybe even an overenthusiastic game of basketball—things happen. And then there's the weather. Good old Mother Nature can’t seem to make up her mind. Hot, cold, rain, snow... our driveways bear the brunt of it all. No wonder they sometimes show the strain with those unsightly lines. So how to repair cracks in concrete driveway? Here’s How To Repair Cracks In Concrete Driveway - Clean Slate: First off, get rid of the dirt and debris. Think of it as setting the table before a feast, minus the silverware. - Size 'em Up: Not all cracks are created equal. Hairline cracks? They're like the common cold of the driveway world. But if you're staring at a chasm that looks like it's about to swallow your shoe, we've got a bigger fish to fry. - The Filling Game: For those little guys, a concrete repair caulk should do the trick. For larger gaps, you might need a concrete patch product. It's like choosing between a band-aid and stitches. - Smooth Operator: Once you've filled that crack, smooth things out. A putty knife or trowel should do the trick. Make it look like the crack was never there. - Seal The Deal: Once you’re all patched up, consider a sealer. It’s like the protective big brother for your driveway. Wait, What’s The Deal With Salt And Chemicals? Here's the tea. Salt and most chemical de-icers can be like those B-grade horror movie villains for your concrete. They sneak in, cause havoc, and before you know it, your beautiful driveway looks like it’s aged 40 years overnight. - Mother Earth’s Cry: Besides your driveway crying out, Earth's not a big fan either. Runoffs from salts and chemicals? Bad news for our environment. - Concrete’s Worst Nightmare: When these chemicals seep into the concrete, they can force the moisture in there to expand. And guess what that leads to? More cracks. It's a vicious cycle. Be The Hero: Enter Safe Thaw Snow and ice are slippery, and we've all had those near-miss moments (or hilarious falls). But before thinking of salt, consider Safe Thaw as the perfect answer to your question-how to repair cracks in concrete driveway. It's like the Tesla of ice melters. - Good for Concrete: None of that expansion trouble we talked about. - Eco and Equipment Friendly: Your plants will thank you. Your machinery will sing your praises. And you won't have any surprise electrical issues to deal with. - Season to Season Star: This isn't a one-winter wonder. Its concentrated formula is in it for the long haul. Last Sip Of Wisdom Concrete cracks are like those gray hairs you spotted last week; they're bound to show up at some point. But with a bit of effort and the right tools (plus avoiding the sneaky villains like salt and chemicals), you've got this. And hey, next time it snows and your neighbor is throwing handfuls of salt on his drive, give him a knowing nod and introduce him to Safe Thaw to avoid concrete driveway crack repair later. You'll be the wisest guru on the block. Cheers to smooth, crack-free driveways!  Read the full article

[getsusun]

The world is dark, and stars are fading

Koigetsu is an adolescent here, looking approximately fifteen years old. Timeline: Naumi Kuchiki is Sixth’s Lieutenant, Ukitake and Keoraku still attend the Shinigami Academy. Something like a eight hundred and fifty years before main Bleach storyline.

His eyes burn. Koigetsu can’t really feel anything more that tiredness – no anger, no sadness, no bitterness, nothing that requires emotional reserves. There is pain, of course, but the pain has become such a frequent guest in his body, that Koigetsu slowly stopped reacting on most of it. This one, however, does not allow to ignore itself. Koigetsu has no idea where his master even got such poison – or acid, or whatever this sharply smelling liquid was, and, of course, no idea why Naumi decided to splash it into the eyes of his own materialized zanpakuto.

Well, Koigetsu may as well take any from the previous reasons to hurt him that his master had. It could have been a punishment for real or imagined former disobedience – talking, not talking, refusing to kill plus souls who had a misfortune of not staying out of Naumi’s sight. Or just an entertainment for Naumi – how could another’s suffering be entertaining Koigetsu would never understood. Or – pretty close to previous one - it could have been an experiment on how fast zanpakuto spirits can regenerate and how much harm you need to cause them to leave scars.

The last one, thinks Koigetsu, is the most probable. Again. As if already carved into his flesh signs of belonging were not enough. Right now Koigetsu can not see more than blurry spots, but he shortly touches his right wrists, and even under makeshift bandages the heat of once again infected scars is distinct. Naumi is set on making these ones to stay, and Koigetsu is pretty sure that they already will – thin lines on his wrists, intertwining to form words. Property on the left wrist, Kuchiki Naumi on the right.

Koigetsu shudders as another wave of pain passes through and leans over the small stream again. He already rinsed his eyes four times, but the sharp pulsation does not lessens and Koigetsu still can not focus on anything. And it feels like it is getting worse.

It is much easier with flesh wounds, even big, like ones that marked up his back a while ago – was that a couple of months or a year – years? - already, Koigetsu is not sure. His sense of time is not ideal, often being interrupted by periods of unconsciousness while regenerating his reitsu after his materialized self being destroyed. The superficial wounds were simple. Clear it up, bandage it up, and they will heal and possibly scar. Internal ones were much more painful, but they either killed Koigetsu fast or healed and mostly disappeared without a trace after full rematerialization.

But Koigetsu did not have his eyes damaged before, and cold feeling in the chest hinted him that they would not heal. Even if he was not half-starved after being materialized for too long without any food or sleep – Naumi long ago stopped sustaining his zanpakuto spirit with reitsu for acting outside of his inner world, and despite all efforts Koigetsu was still not good enough with using external reishi resources for replenishing his own reserves. Koigetsu flinches from another flash of pain, this one located behind his left eyeball, and tries to concentrate.

Point one: he can not see and is barely standing from pain. Point two: Naumi would need him no later than tomorrow, to fight, to train or to do his paperwork. Conclusion one: Koigetsu is in trouble. Because if Naumi finds out that there is a way to at least temporary take away his zanpakuto’s eyesight, it may become shinigami’s favorite pastime for the next months. And Koigetsu really, really did not wanted to experience being splashed into his face with this searing poison again.

Conclusion two: Koigetsu needed external help. Well, either that or hiding until his eyes will heal… Which they very much may not too. And Koigetsu would never, never make the mistake of dematerializing without permission again. This time Koigetsu shudders not because of pain, but because of memory of pain.

So. He needed a medic. Koigetsu closed his eyes – not much changed, to be fair, but at least the rays of setting sun does not feel like fire this way – and concentrated on feeling the reitsu. Nobody nearby – but this much Koigetsu knew already, accustomed to tracking anyone in the hearing – and seeing – range. He is currently in the small clearing near one of the half-abandoned training fields in between Shinigami Academy and Seireitei territory, Sixth Division specifically. Painfully tugging strand of reitsu indicates where Naumi currently is, which must be lieutenants work meeting. So it would be the First’s territory. And Koigetsu needed the Fourth, the medics. Well… If they will be wanting to help.

It was actually a major logical slip, Koigetsu suddenly realized. He was not a shinigami. And the Forth were healing shinigami. Should… No, no way Koigetsu would go to the Twelfth. They were acknowledged experts for zanpakuto maintaining, sure, but their “maintaining” rarely included healing, more inclining towards “taming” and “controlling”. Koigetsu shook his head and immediately regretted it, silently hissing over a sharp pain shooting through his head. He really needed to do something with it. He can at least try to visit the Forth Division and hope for the best.

Koigetsu finally gets up and staggers, suddenly feeling much more lightheaded. At least he is still able to think straight enough to draw mental map of Seireitei to understand in which direction he needs to move. Koigetsu is on the border between the Sixth and the Academy. He has a vector towards Naumi – towards the First Division, so the correct direction to go would be slightly more to the right, through the Academy Grounds and the Ninth Division.

The “move” part is easier plan then do. Koigetsu is still mostly in a painful darkness with occasional blurry slashes of color around. There are fading rays of sun on his face, nicely warm. Not a night yet then. Good, thinks Koigetsu, he did not dive too deep into his thoughts. It kept happening lately, Koigetsu stopping for a second and suddenly finding out that the hours had passed, or falling asleep and abruptly waking up due to his master’s call a day later.

Even without eyesight Koigetsu is not truly blind. He is zanpakuto spirit, and zanpakuto are good with feeling reitsu, and everything in Soul Society is made of reishi. So Koigetsu feels the barely sensible flows of energy below and more prominent forms of trees around. Koigetsu tries to form reishi particles to be solid – and level – under his feet, but his control slips and he almost falls instead. The feeling of direction also wobbles, immersing him into short panic, which Koigetsu promptly suppresses. So, either knowing what is around or walking on the air. Okay. Okay, he can do it.

Koigetsu shortly contemplates remembering the direction and rising above the threes – and buildings further – but he is already hurting enough in order not to want additional pain from broken bones after falling from the height. Besides, Koigetsu does not have enough energy to risk with shunpo, and someone simply walking in the air may attract too much attention.

So the ground it is. Koigetsu walks slowly and carefully, firstly sidestepping trees, then, after leaving the Academy Grounds, moving close to the walls of the building. Rare shinigami passing nearby feels like a bonfires of energy, ones with more reitsu - like a fireworks. Koigetsu keeps his head lowered and intends on blending into scenery, and must be succeeding since noone pays him any attention. In complete fairness, currently Koigetsu is not fully materialized due to acute shortage of energy. That means that to see zanpakuto spirit shinigami will need to be either really sensitive to reitsu and also really observant to detect semitransparent teenager limping unsteadily through the streets, or to get a hint from their own zanpakuto. And, of course, listen to it.

The last case seems unlikely for Koigetsu, since most zanpakuto mind their own business inside the souls of their masters. And even ones who may be interested by outer world – how Koigetsu was – would prefer to ignore Koigetsu, not wanting to bring on themselves the same fate.

Also it is an early evening and most activity already shifted away from the center of Seireitei, Koigetsu is cautious to avoid shinigami with higher levels of reitsu.

It must be pure coincidence, but Koigetsu does, in fact, find the Forth Division, judging by the smell of medicine, alcohol – for disinfection, probably – pain and something else with the taste of blood but also with the smell of low purring. Koigetsu carefully does not shake his head and just mentally concentrates. He must be really not in good state to incline towards synesthesia. Well, even if his thoughts are a mess and his eyes burn, Koigetsu did achieved his designation. What’s next?

He is standing in front of a big building – a rectangular mass of energy with moving points of concentrated reitsu inside. Koigetsu doesn’t really want to go into the front door, because he feels too many shinigami nearby it, so zanpakuto spirit slowly walks around the hospital. There is a door on the back, marked by traces of reitsu. Koigetsu decodes echoes of emotions – tiredness, irritation, calmness, happiness even. No blood thirst, no active desire for violence. Nice.

Koigetsu waits for a moment when there are no reitsu signatures nearby and quietly walks in. The walls are cool and smooth, and the floors plain and not slippery, and Koigetsu wanders through the corridors, remembering the way out. There are rooms on the both sides of the corridors, but reitsu inside are dopey and/or weak and unmoving. Must be patients. Koigetsu listens to conversations and moves further inside.

Finally, there is a some kind of a hall with a couple of shinigami behind the wooden constructions. The air faintly smells of ink and paper. Koigetsu slowly breathes in and out and then concentrates on being real, having color and weight. His presence is noticed almost immediately then. There is a short splash of silence and confusion in reitsu, and then a short murmur.

- Excuse me, can I help you?

Koigetsu turns towards a voice – young, probably female, with almost absent footprint of zanpakuto in reitsu. The source of sound is located above his head, but it is nothing unexpected. Almost everyone is higher than Koigetsu. It is harder to start speaking that Koigetsu expected, but he rarely speaks with shinigami – with anyone – beside Naumi. Also his head is too light and heavy at the same time again, and the world is wobbling a little.

- Y-yes. - his voice cracks and clangs like a colliding pieces of metal. - I am in need of medical help.

There is a short silence, and Koigetsu almost feels the weight of shinigami’s – medic’s? - glance on him. Her reitsu does not feels aggressive, but still Koigetsu belatedly rethinks his decision to ask other shinigami for healing. What… What if Naumi finds out? But the pain in his eyes spikes again and Koigetsu swallows the shameful whine. Apparently something changes on his face, because the medic’s reishi waves with worry.

- Please, follow me.

Koigetsu follows the sound of rustling clothes, light steps and a little-too-calm-to-be-natural breath. They walk through some corridors Koigetsu already visited, some he did not, and pretty soon end in a small room, empty of other people. There is a cool air shifting, probably a window, and it allows Koigetsu to settle a little. If something goes wrong, he would have a chance of fast escape instead of fully dematerializing. The medic asks him to sit and wait and leaves. There is no click of lock.

Koigetsu concentrates, but the feeling of his surroundings falters and breaks apart. It required a precise control to draw a detailed picture out of barely palpable flows of energy, and Koigetsu is just a little too tired, exhausted and hurt to manage it right now. So he extends arms a little ahead of his body and makes a couple of small steps forward.

The cool touch of – table? Must be examination table – is sudden and throws Koigetsu a little out of balance. What a good zanpakuto spirit he is, thinks Koigetsu bitterly. Wobbling and bumping into the furniture. The table is pretty low, so Koigetsu does not have much problem with climbing on it. Then the waiting follows. After a few failed attempts to restore the view of his surrounding through reitsu feeling, Koigetsu settles on monitoring shinigami nearby. It is much easier, even with most of the Forth Division not having much reitsu. Whatever they have though they mostly have under control, no sudden outbursts so typical for more battle-oriented Divisions.

Well, the Forth’s battles lay in different plane. The one Koigetsu never knew what to do with when regeneration failed him. He did catch a couple of handful tricks while looking out of Naumi’s eyes – and later while walking through Soul Society on his own, but nothing more than clearing and bandaging the wounds.

Koigetsu also suspects that his self-invented method of setting back twisted joints and broken bones must not be exactly like what shinigami medics do to their patients, but, well, he was doing his best.

The minutes tick by, and Koigetsu starts to get sleepy – well, either that or he is shifting closer to swooning – because of finally sitting and relaxing at least a little. Silence and solitude are pleasant, despite hunger and pain. It feels like at least a quarter of hour has passed before there is a group of shinigami shifting closer in the corridor, and, more important, one of the reitsu signatures really stands out.

It tastes like a salt metal. Like a sea, may be – Koigetsu never saw one, but there is deep calmness and cool, but not unpleasant embrace of something really big and powerful. Powerful, but controlled, and even as this shinigami stops right behind the door, Koigetsu does not feels crushed by their reitsu. Overwhelmed, may be, but not crushed. It is a nice feeling.

The door opens, then closes, and only one reitsu enters the room.

Koigetsu briefly contemplates standing, but he is really light-headed again. Instead he silently bows his head in respectful greeting and stills his hands. It weakens his ability to distinguish the smallest shifts and tones in reitsu, but Naumi was always easily irritated by Koigetsu constantly shifting his fingers and mindlessly moving his hands in the air. Better not to give a medic a reason to be annoyed right away.

- My assistants were right in stating that we have an interesting patient here, weren’t they?

Koigetsu swallows and does not answers, does not reacts. It finally comes to his mind that this woman must be the Captain of the Forth. Unohana Retsu, then. He… Does not actually know much about her, as well as about most of the other Captains. Koigetsu usually tried to avoid encountering shinigami, especially strong ones, so he knows the feeling of the reitsu of his own – well, Naumi’s own – Captain. Koigetsu is also familiar with the reitsu of shinigami in charge of the Twelfth Division, and, of course, the Captain-Commander Yamamoto. You must have a REALLY thick skin to not feel the all-burning flame of this reitsu.

Captain Unohana slowly moves closer and stops on the hand distance from Koigetsu. Her presence is strangely calming, and Koigetsu feels a little tug of anxious knot in his stomach fading away. The Poisonous Manta Ray peeks out of her mind, and his mild curiosity flows around Koigetsu like a gentle wave. Koigetsu likes Unohana’s zanpakuto spirit. Their bond feels right.

- Look at me, please.

Koigetsu raises head in approximate direction of the voice and forces his eyes to open. If he uses imagination hard enough, blurry white form with dark spots in the middle and on the top almost resembles a human.

Captain Unohana quietly hums and casts some sort of kaido. It tingles a bit, but not painfully.

- How many fingers am I holding up?

Koigetsu squints, but he is not even sure that this is a hand in front of him. Apparently, his face projects his inability to answer clear enough. His eyes also burn stronger after being opened for about a two minutes total.

The more kaido follows, each one being more and more intricate, and despite pain Koigetsu can’t resist spreading out his fingers to better catch the formation of reishi. There are a patterns in them, small curls of green healing energy crossing white lines, linked together by guitar-sounding ones… Koigetsu shudders from sudden pain. Okay. Okay, no extensive reitsu feeling, he got it.

From this moment Koigetsu sits still, obediently moving his head when Captain Unohana instructs him to. At some point she started to recite formulas, most likely to strengthen the kaido, but the buzzing in his ears stops Koigetsu from making out the separate words.

Finally, after what feels like hours – Koigetsu half-sure he may have dosed off for a while – Captain Unohana casts one more kaido, and the world around becomes much more clear. Koigetsu blinks, and this level of pain, while still very noticeable, is nothing he can not live with. He also has a good view of Captain Unohana’s face. She towers over Koigetsu a little, which means, considering the size of the table, that Captain Unohana and Koigetsu must be approximately the same height.

...Actually, why is she glowing?

Koigetsu blinks again, but nothing changes much – Captain Unohana is still surrounded by whitish haze with unevenly more concentrated parts around her eyes, hands and katana handle peeking out from above her shoul-

Oh. It is her reitsu. Koigetsu mentally scolds himself for slow thinking. Captain Unohana felt like a tightly bound white cloud before, with underlying smell of the sea, he just, for some reason, sees it without making any efforts. Actually, Koigetsu does not know how to stop seeing the world through the mist of different reitsu. Must be a side effect of having an eye trauma. Koigetsu hopes that it will pass.

Captain Unohana repeats her previous question, and this time Koigetsu answers. She still casts a whole bunch of another kaido over him, but they don’t do much.

- There is still some damage which may be permanent, but I do not think that something else can be done at the moment.

- Thank you, Captain Unohana. - says Koigetsu, because he does not really know how to express his gratitude, and stands up. - I… Really, thank you.

- That was definitely an… Interesting experience. Say, what color were your eyes before?

This makes Koigetsu pause in the middle of his wobbling way to the window.

- Blue? Are they not?

There is a sad smile on the face of Captain Unohana, but somehow Koigetsu feels that there is something unsaid hovering in the air between the shinigami and zanpakuto spirit.

- No. They are yellow now.

[thetaoofbetty]

the unfortunate narrative context of the last 4 seasons leading up to the end of 4x18 is now, of course, that archie really thought he was going to end up with betty when he was ready for her 

which, terrible sexism aside, is so gross when you think about how he must have known how much jughead loves her when bughead started dating 

[moonchildstyles]

merlot

prosecco part six: harry wanted nothing more than to take his time with y/n and get to know everything about her, in every sense she'd allow

wordcount: 15k+

—————

"Are you coming in?"

Harry couldn't help the lazy smile that spread over his lips, dimples denting into his cheeks as they stopped in front of her apartment door. She did her best to unlock the front door though one of her hands was held hostage in both of Harry's. He just couldn't find it in himself to let go even though he knew he was only making it harder on her to concentrate.

"Do y'want me to?" he prodded, a satisfied undercurrent to his words. He liked knowing that she wasn't ready for him to leave yet, just as he wasn't prepared to say goodbye for the night.

"You know I do," she answered shyly, glancing over her shoulder as she pushed open the white lacquered wood, "But only if you want to, too."

She should know by now that wherever she wanted him, he would be there. He only gave her a soft curl of his lips, sacrificing the hold of one of his hands to pat her on the bottom, "Go on, I'll be right behind you."

A familiar smile colored her features, the same giddy one that caused a garden to bloom in his chest since he had started getting closer to her. It was the same smile she looked at him with when he took her out for the first time, the same one she had appeared with when she ran back to give him a hug and thank him for keeping his promise to see her, and the same one that she had given to him every time he'd come to see her since. It made him feel like he put the stars in the sky and dotted craters into the moon; like he was powerful enough to create the universe if she so asked him to.

Harry followed after her like a lost puppy, only having half the mind to close the door behind him and twist the accompanying lock. He was forced to let go of her hand when she reached to take off her shoes, this pair much more comfortable than the usual heels she had worn in the past on dates with him. He made a point to match his boots up beside her's in the cubby by the door, the white leather of his brushing against her own sparkly pair.

He looked out into her living room, the area a disaster of notebook pages and open textbooks. The pages had scribbled notes strung along the lines, highlighted headings at the top that matched the duo of textbooks that laid spread open on the coffee table.

"This what y'were working on before I picked y'up?" Harry smiled, rounding the couch to get a look at the subject she was studying so hard over.

"Yeah," (Y/N) sighed, her voice slumping the same way he could picture her shoulders doing when she caught sight of the homework, "I'm having to do an extra section on that group project now that one of my partners just dropped the course out of nowhere."

"Really?" Harry gaped, whipping his head up to catch her following his path to sit beside him on the couch, "Was it that boy y'were telling me about?"

"Mhm," she hummed, a slight roll to her eyes though Harry could see how tired she was just at the thought of the extra work.

"Are the others helping you at all?"

"No, they said they have too many credits this semester and one of them has to work everyday so she doesn't have time," (Y/N) explained, falling into the cushions beside him. She reached out and began picking up her notes, leafing through them in an effort to put them in order before stuffing them into a folder she had slid under the table.

"Oh love," he cooed, scooting over to wrap her up in his arms, "I can help you, if y'want. 'M not sure I'll be much help with the subject itself, but I can help with the paper and I'll work on anything you're not sure about." Harry was already working around his schedule, trying to find his free moments when he could commit to his promises and help (Y/N) all he could.

A breathy laugh was huffed though (Y/N)'s lips, matching the feather soft smile that traced her lips. "I think I'll be okay, but thank you, H. You're sweet."

"Are y'sure? I know I don't really understand how"—he squinted to read he fine text on the last remaining volume on the table—"romantic literature evolved through the seventeen and eighteen hundreds, but I can try. 'M not gonna lie, I've read quite a few romance novels, so I'll give it m'all."

A louder laugh escaped (Y/N), filtering through the room. The sound brought Harry's dimples to the surface of his cheeks, the muscles surely to ache when he went home.

"I think you might have a different idea than what my professor is looking for, but thank you. Maybe you could read over my sections before I send them to the group? Make sure they sound good and everything?"

Harry happily nodded along to her suggestion. "Anything y'need from me, I'll do it."

The tint of amusement drained from her features, leaving just the soft remnants that curled over her lips and melted her irises. That dreamy look that Harry saw in his daydreams crossed over her eyes. He adored when she looked at him like that, second only to the tender smile she saved only for him.

"You mean that?" she prompted, words feeling like a feather-soft cloud stuffed in a gift box just for him.

"Y'know I do," Harry teased, his tone light as he parroted her earlier words. He leant into her space, nudging his nose against her's in a gentle puppy's kiss with their lashes tangling from the proximity.

He could feel the ghost of her smile against the full of his own lips, savoring the feel of her contentment for a moment before pulling back into his own space. He was greeted with the sight of (Y/N)'s moony eyes, irises liquified and sparkling like pools of starlight. The smile he had felt on her lips dropped in slow increments, gradually leaving her with her mouth in a small gape and her softened features calling for his tender touch. She didn't move from where she had inclined her body towards him, the tick in her neck holding as if moving away from him was the last thing on her mind even in the uncomfortable position. Her eyes scanned over his face, Harry aware of the way her gaze brushed over the planes of his features before cataloging down the curve of his neck and the full of his lips.

"Y'alright, sweetheart?" He breathed a laugh, reaching a hand up to cradle the full of her cheek.

Her expression lagged before something clicked behind her eyes as she dropped back into the moment. She nodded her head in his hold, a jerky motion as opposed to the smooth slowness that had coated her movements before. "Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking," she explained with a swallow. She stood from where she had settled into the cushions, returning to the full of her height as she reached for her school bag that was now stuffed with her homework. Tossing a look over her shoulder to Harry, she collected the lone textbook from the coffee table, "I'm going to take this to my room—I'll be right back."

With that, she scuttled down the hall, leaving Harry alone in the waning heat they shared on her sofa. Though there was nothing playing on the television in front of him, he looked at the black mirror as his own film started reeling in his head. He couldn't get that look on her face out of his head.

He'd seen the dreamy glow that took her features when he did something particularly sweet for her, the giddy smile on her lips when he agreed to spend more time with her, and the look of her melted irises that made him feel like the only person in the world for her. He'd seen those looks and adored them, treasured them in the back of his mind. He would call upon whenever he missed her or needed something to make the time go by faster, but this look was one he'd only ever seen before once in the dark of his room.

She had given him that searching look—like she was searching for more, for something only Harry could give her and that she was willing to follow him wherever he wanted to take her if it meant she would find it, whatever it was—one of the times they had spent holed up in his room, Harry's hips between her thighs and her head cushioned by his satin cased pillows. They had been kissing as was tradition by now after another date, Harry dutifully abiding by the fine boundaries she had set that first time. His hands stayed over her clothing as he traced her form with the most intimacy being performed by their melding mouths. Even his hips fit between her's were kept still as to not rock anywhere that would make her uncomfortable.

Though, he could only be so good for so long, especially when his instincts were at the helm of his control. Without thinking, he had given a grinding roll of his hips over her center. Her thighs stiffened around him and her hands in his hair tightened to give a sharp tug at his roots. Harry reared back at her reaction, ready to give her a murmured apology, promise that he wasn't going to do it again and give her a second to breathe. When he did that, an I'm sorry poised on his tongue, he had been stopped in his tracks at the look on her face. She gave him that yearning look with her starlight eyes, searching for something she couldn't find. Harry remembers feeling breathless in that moment, like the limited air in his lungs was effectively sucked out when she gave him the privilege of looking over her.

"(Y/N)? Are y'okay?" he remembered cooing to her, his hands that had been stationed on either side of her head fisting at the blanket below her.

The sound of her name had knocked her back into reality, the same way his voice had tonight only minutes ago. She tugged him back to her with the grip on his hair, planting her lips along the cut of his jaw. "I'm okay," she whispered over his skin, the butterfly-soft touch of her lashes skimming over his skin.

"'M sorry," he mumbled to her, "I didn't mean t—"

"Don't be sorry," she had said to him, finally nudging him towards her and matching their lips up.

Harry had been too drawn into the feel of her mouth over his to analyze that look any further, but the memory was singed in the back of his mind. Now he had something to compare it to, a twin expression illuminated by the lights in her apartment and a clear gaze that lacked the haze of her touch.

He didn't want to assume, but Harry could argue that the searching in her gaze was nothing more than a version of want—that he was all too familiar with when it came to her. She had been the one to set boundaries around what conspired when they indulged in the sessions in his bedroom, so he hesitated to assume that she had that same breathless feeling bubbling in her chest the way he had.

But, god, was he going to hope.

Nothing made him feel more prideful than the idea that (Y/N) wanted him just as badly as he wanted her. His stomach tightened at the thought of her sighing his name in the middle of the night like he did with her's, that she might have felt the same tenseness in her muscles as he did when she clung to him while fighting to keep their mouths buttoned together, that she might have taken a single look at him during one of their dates and daydreamed about what it would be like to take him home and be rid of the clothing that adorned his body. He could only hope she felt any of those things when she looked at him.

Just as Harry transitioned his thoughts to something safe—he was currently thinking about the meeting he was going to have to attend on Monday, picturing graphs and stats in hopes of lessening the pressure sitting at the base of his stomach—when (Y/N) called to him from her bedroom.

"Harry, could you come here for a second? Please?" She tacked the plea on as an afterthought, her voice a pitch higher than he would have expected.

He didn't response, instead opting to follow after her voice. The sound of his socked feet padded over the hardwood, following down the line to her bedroom he had only peeked into once before. Her door was cracked only an inch, leaving only a sliver of the inside visible before he pushed it open. He found her peeking out of what he assumed was her walk-in closet, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth and eyes wide as she looked at him.

Her room was just as he remembered it, the splashes of pastels dotted over the otherwise sanitized white of the room. She added as much of her personality as she could while still hoping to get the full of her security deposit back when she moved out and stay in the good graces of her landlord all the while. Her large wooden dresser was pushed to the wall in front of her bed, a mirror tacked atop it with each of the ornaments and miscellaneous fixtures she had placed on the surface being reflected in the glass. Her bed frame was made out of twisted metal, the pipes creating delicate loops that decorated the foot and headboard in a pewter color, gleaming lilac in the light. Her bedding matched that of the accents splashed over her room, baby green pillows complimenting the soft pink of her duvet with white appliquéd flowers dotted over the fabric. A shelving unit was pushed against the wall beside the doorway to the bathroom, filled with books she had admitted to him she hadn't read since she was a teenager along with tiny fake plants and little mementos from friends and family she kept when she moved out. A white, fluffy rug was splayed over the middle of the floor, something that made Harry smile when he remembered how she had told him she'd had to get three replacements of it so far, the pristine white being something of a magnet for stains.

"Can you help me really quick?" (Y/N) chirped, drawing his eye from a picture that was propped up on her dresser of her smiling face. She toed the ground nervously, the blue polish on her toes sticking out starkly against the dark wooded floors.

"'Course," Harry agreed, stepping over the fluffed rug under his socked feet, "What do y'need?"

Her bottom lip was swollen due to the pressure of her teeth, her eyes shifting over his form before turning her back to him. "Will you unzip my dress for me? I can't reach."

Harry's brows raised at her request. She'd never had trouble with this part before, even with much more elaborate dresses he could see were tied at the back. Still, he wasn't going to deny her, especially if she requested his help.

He mumbled out an agreement, his feet silent as he stood in line behind her. She had taken the liberty to brush her hair out of his way, leaving the bare of her neck on display along with the delicate curve of her shoulders that were left for him to see with the help of the drop sleeves. He tried not to let his gaze linger over the fresh view of her skin, those limping thoughts about Monday's meeting doing little to quell the fire in his stomach. He concentrated on the glimmering zipper that started at the mid of her back, a bright point of focus he was going to take advantage of.

The second his fingers brushed the bare of her back, the tips seemingly alight with fire at the way they burned in hopes of touching her again, he knew he was gone. One hand was laid flat over the fabric of her dress, keeping it steady as the other plucked at the zipper. More and more of her back was revealed as he unlaced the teeth that were keeping the garment together. If not for (Y/N)'s hands keeping the dress pressed against her chest, he would have seen even more intimate parts of her skin on display given it was revealed she wasn't wearing a bra through the night.

His hand grew unsteady as he traced the zipper down the curve of her spine, ending just above where he could see a peek of her underwear. His tongue felt thick as he tried to swallow around it, his throat equally as dry as he kept his eyes pinned to the bare of her skin. "There," he murmured gruffly, gravel roughing up his tone that he hadn't meant to let seep in.

Taking a hesitant step back caused a rush of cool air to filter between them, dousing Harry's heated skin. He found traction in his breathing again, a rhythm returning now that his mind wasn't so occupied with the feel and look of her smooth skin. He awaited the usual chirp of (Y/N)'s voice, a sweet thank you he earned after the sweet tasks that took little to no effort for him to do.

Instead, Harry's eyes widened when she dropped the bodice of her dress, the entire garment falling to pool at her feet.

Lengths of bare skin were revealed for him to feast upon, catalogue and burn into his memory. He felt something like a statue as he stood completely still, muscles frozen as she stepped out of the fabric circling her feet. Her muscles moved and curled under her skin, her form curving around the short steps she took before she buried her toes into the downy rug under her feet. What he had perceived as underwear was actually nothing more than a few baby blue dyed strings coming together to cover the bare minimum of her modesty. One ribbon tied into a bow just above her bottom before disappearing between the curves of her ass, the rest of the tie coming around to circle her hips.

Before he could fully take in the view of her bare backside (he was still working his way over the soft of her thighs, but he kept getting distracted at the fact she had been wearing nothing but a tiny thong through dinner and when he took her for a walk afterwards), (Y/N) turned around offering an entirely new view to soak in.

Harry took another stumbling step backwards, adverting his eyes to a safe spot of fake wood grain that made up her flooring. He wasn't supposed to still be here, surely. She must have thought he had quietly stepped out before she dropped her dress. She hadn't intended for him to see her like this, right?

He forced out a cough, hoping to knock the gravel from his tone, "Sorry—Let me ju—I'll be in the othe—"

"You don't want to stay?"

How was he supposed to answer this? Because, fuck, did he want to stay, but what about the guidelines she had given him the moment they started inching into this intimate territory?

He carefully flicked his eyes up to her face, bypassing the length of her body in hopes of avoiding further tightening his pants. A tense settled over his shoulders, broadening them just as he pulled in a chest-puffing breath. "I don't want to do anything y'don't want, (Y/N). And, 'm worried that if I stay, I might take the invitation the wrong way."

That was all the explanation he could muster through his jumbled thoughts. He was going to stay firm on the boundaries she had given him until she said otherwise. Just because she had dropped her dress and left more of her exposed than Harry had dared to allow himself to imagine, doesn't mean she was wiping those expectations away.

(Y/N) took a sheepish step towards him, the blue paint on her toes peeking through the white fluff of a rug under her feet. Her arms had come to cross over her chest, bunching her breasts together while her fingers bundled into a knot just under her chin. "I don't think you'll take it the wrong way," she murmured as she took steps closer and closer to him.

Once she was close enough to be in Harry's dipped viewpoint, effectively cutting off the point on the floor he was drilling his gaze into, he made a point to fix his gaze onto her face. He didn't think he could handle himself if he allowed his eyes to linger over the line of cleavage on her chest or the soft skin of her tummy calling for him to press kisses across, and especially not the full of her thighs that made a true v-shape that framed the small piece of fabric between her legs.

She must have taken a moment to wipe her makeup from her skin, leaving a flustered glow to emanate from her skin, rivaling the sparkling of her starlight eyes. Harry made a choice to tuck his hands into his pockets, otherwise he knew he wouldn't have stopped himself from cradling her cheeks in his palms and brushing back the offending strands of her hair that dare block his view of her features.

"I don't want to assume anything, (Y/N)," he started, voice low as if there were anyone near by to overhear, "Y'need to tell me what you want; what you're comfortable with. If not, 'm going to leave your room and let y'get dressed."

He wasn't trying to scare her, or make her feel like he didn't want to be in this slowly heating room, but he needed to hear it from her directly. (It was only an endearing side-effect that he got to see how flustered this stern voice and request of her words got her).

She thickly swallowed, throat bobbing right by her thrumming pulse at the base. Her still wide eyes were fixed on his own hooded ones, darting over his features and tracing the planes with as much detail he swears he could have felt the ghost of her fingers following after. "I-I want you to stay—You won't get the wrong idea since I want the same thing," was her murmured response, her volume lacking over her stumbled words.

Harry dared to settled his hands over the round of her hips, the pad of his thumbs catching on the satin smooth ribbon that made up her panties. His hands were warm over the curve, her form filling his palms perfectly. "Tell me what y'want," he pressed, the words coming out as a sultry croon, "Why do y'want me to stay when we should be getting ready to watch some movie out there before y'climb in my lap and let me kiss y'til y'fall asleep?"

A dreamy trance took over (Y/N)'s sightline, the shift in her demeanor becoming visible to Harry with the way she all but melted into his hands and her breathing turned shallow. "I want to do more than just kiss tonight."

"Y'want me to touch you?"

"Please."

That was like music to his ears, but better. He couldn't wait to play with her.

Now that he was getting a much clearer idea of what she wanted from him tonight, he was ready to test some of the boundaries she had set. "I am touching you, pretty girl. Isn't this enough?"

"No," she whispered, the word leaning on a whimper as it came out, "I want more."

A lazy smile tugged at the corner of his lips, the curl becoming lopsided as only one dimple dented into his cheek. "Where do y'want me to touch then? Show me." As he spoke, he backed her up towards the edge of her bed. She obediently followed his movements, her steps much more disjointed as he kept her eyes fixed on him. "Lay up there for me," he instructed as his eyes flicked to the collection of pillows at the top of her bed, before dropping a kiss to the top of her heated cheekbone.

She all but scrambled atop the mattress, laying flat on her back with her knees bent and spread wide to accommodate Harry between them. He allowed his gaze to linger over her form, her arms having dropped from the shield they formed over her breasts, instead leaving just the veil of her hair to splay over her chest with the peaks of her nipples glimpsing through the strands. Her hands were bunched into the covers around her, the grip tightening as Harry approached. He discarded the jacket he had worn for their date in the same pile as her dress, leaving only the silky cream button up to stretch over the broad of his chest.

Kneeing his way over the mattress, he stopped between her legs with her knees on either side of his hips. That same lazy grin stretched over his lips, quirking only a single dimple into the full of his cheek as he looked her over.

"Well," he drawled, "Aren't y'gonna show me?"

(Y/N)'s chest stuttered with an interrupted intake of breath, her breasts swaying at the motion. "Harry, I—"

Her words caught in her throat, hanging in the air as Harry gazed down at her from his perspective above her gentle body.

"'S okay, pretty girl, 's jus' me. All you've got to do is show me," he encouraged, offering her his hands to place over her body in the game he initiated.

Hesitation flashed over her gaze as her eyes shifted from his face to his hands he was offering to her palms up, still ring-clad and gleaming in the low light. "I don't know what I'm doing," she rushed out, a bleat to her voice as her nerves turned up.

Harry lent back on his heels as he processed her explanation. The thin boundaries and hesitation now making sense if she wasn't quite as experienced in this area as he was. No wonder she had been so flustered when he prodded and pressed her.

His previously wandering gaze raced up to her face, feeling guilty to have looked over her when she was having such nerves while he was playing. "'M sorry, (Y/N)," he cooed, aching to reach out and grab at her hands that were twisted in the bedsheets at her sides, "I didn't know. We can stop now, 'kay?"

He intended to back himself off her plush bed, but he was promptly stopped when (Y/N) shot to a sitting position. Her once white-knuckled hands moved to grab at the waist of his pants, clinging to the belt loops and keeping him from moving an inch farther. "Don't leave," she pleaded, "I only wanted you to know in case I was a little lost. Please, stay."

Harry fluttered his fingers over her outstretched arms, tracing over the skin as goosebumps followed in his wake. He cupped her elbows in his palms, curling down until he could comfortably pull her hands to sit on his cheeks. He filled her vision and fixed her attention to him, away from the chill she was surely feeling over the bare of her body and the caress of his hands over her goosebumped arms.

"You've never done this before, love?" he asked her, needing to get a bigger picture of what she might be comfortable with.

She shook her head, the motion small, "I have, but only once all the way. It was a few years ago and not very good, so I don't really know what I'm doing or what you want me to do."

Though he would have been more than happy to guide her through her first time, a bit of pressure was lifted from Harry's chest at the knowledge that this wasn't the very first experience she would have. He could work with that, and blow her first time out of the water since it apparently wasn't satisfying.

"That's okay," Harry smiled, a tender curl of his lips that let her know just how much he adored her if she didn't already, "All I want is for you to feel good, we can get through the rest together, right?"

"Me and you?" she chirped, a glowing smile complimenting her features and rounding her cheeks.

Harry dipped his head forward and pushed his nose against her's in a delicate puppy's kiss. "Jus' me and you."

He intended to pull away, give her some space to breathe, but (Y/N) firmed her hold on either side of his jaw. Her fingertips dipped into the baby thin curls that bordered his hairline as she kept him stationed close enough their lashes could have tangled at the proximity. She didn't waste a second before gently slotting their lips together, craning her neck to seal her mouth against his in an effort to soak in as much of the contact as she could. Harry smiled into the kiss, leaning into her and relieving the tick in her neck. With his insisting motions, (Y/N) lowered herself to lay in the imprint she had left on her bed below her, settling in the plush duvet with Harry atop her this time. His hands that had been cradling the curve of her elbows moved. One went around her waist, trapping him happily between the pink comforter hugging her body and the heat of her bare back, while his other settled at the base of her throat with his fingers curling around the nape and his thumb brushing along the curve.

"How far do y'want to go tonight, (Y/N)? Y'have to tell me so I don't assume," he pressed, the words mumbled into her kiss-swollen lips. Cracking his eyes open to nothing more than slits, Harry caught sight of the slight furrow to her brow, her ardent kisses matching the expression.

"I want all of you." Her answer was simple and breathless, just the bare minimum explanation before she urged her mouth against his. "Just go slow with me,"

Harry could do that, he decided, he could definitely take his time with her. No complaints there.

Going along with his oath to go slow with her, he started off in their usual routine, the one they had curated in the dark of his bedroom. He kissed her as if those fine boundaries were still in place and that dress that was now a crumpled heap on the floor still adorned her body. The motions had been perfected during those long sessions at his home, his hands keeping her pressed to him as though the intention was to hold her through the night.

Much like the night he had first seen that searching look on her face, Harry chanced a rut of his hips against hers. The soft of her core welcomed the stiff tent that had formed in the front of his pants with the hug of her thighs tightening around his form. He waited for any kind of unfavorable reaction, one that would prompt him to slow even further down. Instead, a breathy sigh fell from her lips and fanned over Harry's own.

The next time, it was (Y/N)'s restless body that dragged her hips over his, bucking up against him. She hummed a call of his name against the full of his kiss, a familiar sound that he'd had the privilege of hearing every time they indulged in long make-out sessions in his bedroom, though it never lost the tightening effect it had on the tension building under the flat of his stomach. Her hands that had been cradling his cheeks moved to the back of his head, brushing through the curls with the blunt of her nails sliding over his scalp.

A hiss escaped Harry's lips at the feel of her nails in his hair, his own arm that had been backed around her waist snaked out of position to trace over the curve of her side. His palm skated over her bare skin, tips of his fingers brushing her hair out of the way before settling over the full of her breast. He pressed his tongue into her mouth just as his hand squeezed around the flesh, his fingertips softly denting into the skin as she gave way under him. (Y/N) whimpered into his mouth, her nipple peaking under his palm despite the heat of his touch.

"Y'like that, pretty girl?" he crooned to her, his words all but swallowed by her in her effort to keep kissing him.

"Mhm," she bleated, a frantic nodding of her head accompanying the hum before she took advantage of the grip on his hair and brought him back to her.

"I can't wait to find all the things y'like, sweetheart," he murmured, his words a ghost over her skin as he bypassed her lips and painted his own over the warmed features of her face, "'S going to be s'much fun, don't you think?"

"Better," she breathed, an incomplete thought hanging in the humid air surrounding them, "You're better already."

While it wasn't much of a surprise to know he was the best out of her limited experience, Harry didn't bother to fight off the pride puffing his chest and the smug smile curling his lips. He worked his way from the soft heat that fluttered through her features, meeting where his hand still lay as a steadying weight at the base of her throat. His lips never truly lifted from her skin, instead dragging over her before planting another in his trail. His hands followed after him, shifting to skim over her sides with his thumbs denting into her skin from the strength of his grip.

Harry stopped when he made it to the middle of her chest, opting to spend extra time there if her earlier whimpering meant anything about her sensitivity. The valley between her breasts was littered in a slew of wet kisses, matching the sheen that glimmered over her warmed skin. He opened his eyes as he swiped his tongue along the bottom curve of one of her breasts, watching for (Y/N) reaction. He was gifted with a tug at the roots of his hair and a breathless gasp.

"Harry," she whined when he placed a sucking kiss to her pert nipple, drawing a smile to his features as he repeated the affection to its twin.

"Y'sound so pretty when y'say m'name like that, pretty girl," he crooned to her, sounding entirely too smug but he didn't have it in him to care.

(Y/N) practically melted into the mattress below her, the comforter doing all the work of keeping her together while Harry lit a path of fire down her body. The tip of his nose skimmed down the soft of her stomach as he dragged his lips over the expanse, wet kisses shining in the low light as he planted them over her skin. He made it as far with her hips cradled in his hands, the length of his fingers reaching to dent the tips into the full of her ass as his mouth halted right at the waistline of her panties. He bit at the delicate fabric, the tiny bow placed between his teeth.

He fully intended on slipping his fingers under the flimsy material and shucking it down her legs before he indulged in his own pleasure with his face between her thighs until (Y/N) pulled her hands from his hair and dropped them to the broad of his shoulders.

"Wait, wait," she rushed, breathing coming out in heaves around the words.

Harry stilled in an instant, slipping his hands from her hips to sit on the curve of her waist as he pulled his head from between her thighs. His eyes were wide with bewilderment, he was sure, worried he had gone too far without checking in and had effectively made her uncomfortable.

"What is it, lovie? Are y'alright?"

Her fingers tightly gripped the thin fabric of his shirt in her fists, a silent request for him to come back to her. He followed her tugging, moving to station his hands on either side of her head as he hovered above her. The starlight of her eyes twinkled up at him despite her pupil that was blown wide enough to leave but a sliver of the iris left for him to admire.

"I want you first," she explained, ignoring his checkin on her wellbeing. Her hands on his shoulders slid further down the expanse of his chest, landing on the remaining buttons that tethered his top together.

"What do y'want from me, sweetheart?" he pressed, unsure of the idea of skipping foreplay and moving right into sinking his cock into her. (He personally really enjoyed foreplay, maybe even more than the sex itself, so he would be a little disappointed if she wanted to move on so quickly).

Her darting eyes followed the path of her hands, "I want you out of your clothes first. I want to be able to see you."

A smirk spread over his lips, a dimple thumbing into the full of his cheek. "Y'should've said that at the beginning, love. More than happy to give you a show."

(Y/N)'s own lips cracked into a soft smile, the bit of humor breaking through the intensity of the moment they had curated in the bubble of her bed. Anything to make her feel comfortable.

Harry reluctantly left her splayed across her bed, already working the buttons on his shirt through the holes before flinging it to the pile on the floor. It was only minutes later that his belt and pants joined the mess, and one more for his rings to be discarded on the side table to her bed. Her eyes watched him the whole time—aside from when he made a show of shaking his bum at her when he tugged down his trousers, instead opting to bury her face in her hands as she laughed at him. He was bare aside from the boxers that covered his length, though the shape was clear to see through the wine red of the fabric.

"Good enough now, pretty girl?" he teased as he climbed onto the mattress, kneeing his way back to her.

He was all too aware of the way her eyes raked over his form, lingering on his tented boxers. Her mouth was set in a soft gape, hands settled between her thighs as she tightly gripped the pink of her duvet.

"Can I—I want to..." Her words hung in the air as her eyes dropped from his smug face back to the full crotch of his boxers. She swallowed thickly, eyes darting up to match his for only a second before falling back down the length of him, "Harry, can I touch you? Please?"

Harry bit at his bottom lip hard enough he was worried it was going to split. "Y'want to touch me, love? What do y'want to touch?"

She crawled the short distance between them, falling back on her heels where Harry was stilted up on his knees, taller than she was. Her eyes flicked between his and her hand she was reaching towards him, shyly watching for a reaction as her palm settled on the thick of his thigh, just under the tiger head tattooed over the skin. "Can I touch you here?" she whispered, her fingertips playing with the hem of the underwear, "I've never really done it before, but I-I want to try."

His bones were sure to give out with his muscles liquifying and turning him into a puddle. Harry couldn't deny such a sweet request; she wanted to take care of him before he even had the chance to do the same for her. A precious thing, she was.

"We're doing anything y'want tonight, remember, pretty girl?" he smiled, reaching for her shoulders to pull her upright, "Where do y'want me?"

She bit at the the full of her bottom lip at his line of questioning. "I don't know."

Harry couldn't resist before urging forward and pressing a kiss to her blooming cheek. "Y'said you've never done this before, right?" a nod given in response, "Then we'll make this really easy for you, 'kay? Make sure you're comfortable." (Y/N) agreed with another slight nod of her head, the ends of her hair tickling her bare skin and brushing Harry's hands. He started maneuvering them around around as he spoke, "'M gonna lay up here, and I want y'stay right there for me."

Mimicking her earlier position, Harry laid with his head cushioned by her hoard of pillows (the daisy shaped one she had in the dead center was his favorite by far), legs spread wide enough to accommodate her between. With the new angle, (Y/N) was left with an unobstructed view of the tent in his boxers, the outline being emphasized by the shadows created from the low lamplight. She sat tentatively on the mattress, unsure of where to go now though all she wanted was to work her way between his thighs and follow any instructions he may give.

"I think it'll be easiest for y'like this, yeah? Won't hurt your knees, either," he explained, resting with a hand behind his head while the other skimmed the waist of his underwear. He gazed at her with a small smile on his lips, his eyes going hooded as he traced the curves of her body with a pointed brush over the full of her lips. "Why are y'so far away, pretty girl? 'M not gonna hurt you; y'can come closer."

With his permission, she shuffled over the bedding. The comforter fluffed around her like a sunset tinted cloud, or the waves that birthed Venus herself. If not for the fact he was indulging in her wish to take care of him, he would have dropped to his own knees in worship of her.

"I-I've only done this a couple of times, but I want to do it how you like," (Y/N) mumbled, eyes roaming over his tattooed chest before settling on his face as if she were scared to stay in one place too long in case she gave away how attracted she was to him. Not a very well kept secret, but he wasn't going to tell her that.

"Well, you're gonna have to give me a kiss first," Harry prompted, already sitting up from his lounging position. He sat with his hand flat behind him to prop himself up, craning his neck towards her with a pucker to his lips.

(Y/N) was more than eager to indulge in the familiar, practiced contact. She settled her hands flat over the cut of his jaw, the warmth of her palms seeping through his skin as if she didn't already have him flushed enough. It was a slow kiss, languid in the way he slotted his lips against hers and slipped his tongue across her own. The next time he did this, he was sure to taste a bit of himself along the buds.

"Ready?" he whispered to her, the breath coming out humid in the space between them.

With an eager nod of her head, (Y/N) gave him a sincere smile, though nerves still tugged at the corners. He trusted her to tell him if she was uncomfortable or wanted to slow down, but he was still going to keep a close eye on her and go slow just as she requested.

Harry returned to his previous position, taking in a deep breath as he took in the sight of his lover with kiss-swollen lips she was about to wrap around him. "C'mere, pretty girl," he crooned, reaching his free hand towards her, "Give me your hand."

She laid her palm flat against his like she was expecting him to hold it—what a sweet little thing. He took her hand, eyes gauging her reaction, and laid it with her palm flat over the outline of his prick. The fabric was surely warm from the temperature of his skin, seeping through it in the same throbbing waves he could feel pulsing in his stomach. She hesitated for a moment before wrapping her fingers around the clear girth, eyes meeting his as her own breathing turned to heaves that matched the rise and fall of his chest.

Relaxing back into the pillows, Harry let her get familiar with this part of his body, "Get used to me, sweetheart, then we'll keep going." His voice was strained, teeth coming to trap the flesh of his bottom lip as he started watching each of her movements.

Wide, starlight eyes were fixed on her own hand as she swiped her thumb over where she perceived the head to be, only to be rewarded with a breathy sigh that exhaled from Harry's nose. "You're really big, H," she whispered, the words seemingly coming out on their own accord as she never shifted her acknowledgment from her hand.

"Yeah?" he gasped out, a smug curl taking over his bitten lips, "Y'like that?"

Maybe he was a little too proud of his size, but how could he not be when he's been praised for it time and time again. Just because he didn't date often didn't mean there weren't people who had seen the inside of his bedroom and lived to tell the tale with a satisfied smile on their faces. But, he needed to hear (Y/N) say it; that would outshine any kind of praised-induced flush anyone else had given him.

And, fuck, would it just be hot to know she liked his body, every inch of it.

She frantically nodded her head with a gaped mouth, flicking her gaze to him through the frame of her lashes, "I've never—You're the biggest."

Harry all but melted into her mattress at the praise, more than satisfied with her response. (Y/N) took her time and got familiar with the length of him over the fabric of his boxers, gripping and releasing with swipes of her thumb over the slowly dampening patch at his head. He was acutely aware of the way she retracted her hand to slide over the thick of his thigh, her nails minutely catching on his skin that caused faint red lines to appear in her wake, only for her other hand to reach for the elastic on his underwear.

"Go 'head, pretty girl. Already doing so good, can't wait to really feel you," Harry groaned, his tongue lazily wrapping around his words as he looked at her through a vignetted gaze.

Tucking her fingers into the waistband, she tugged his underwear far enough down to expose his cock. Harry helped her as she worked it down his legs before the garment joined the pile on her floor. He was left completely bare as opposed to the tiny triangle of fabric still tucked between her thighs, his cock heavy against his stomach. The head was flushed a ruddy red, shining with the remnants of the precum that seeped out when she had been playing, balls tucked tight against the base.

With some lingering hesitation, (Y/N) wrapped her hand around his shaft the same way she had been through his boxers. Her fingers just barely connected around the girth of him, the weight of his prick laying heavy in her hand. She worked her hand gently over him, a little too dry even with the added slickness of the limited pearls of precum that managed to slip down his length.

"Gotta get me wet first, pretty girl," Harry sighed, curling to sit up in front of her. He plucked her hand by the wrist, leaving his cock to settle against his stomach again. He brought her hand to his mouth, feeling her eyes on him the whole time. His own fluttered closed as he slid the flat of his tongue over her hand, laving over her palm and slicking the skin before trailing up to the tip of her fingers. He pressed a lingering kiss to the pads, blinking his eyes open to catch her looking at him with that yearning look glazed over her gaze. He lent back like he hadn't just given her an erotic performance, guiding her hand back down to his heated cock. "Try that, love."

That heavenly glow that emanated from her skin only intensified at his casual dismissal of his actions, (Y/N) lagging for a moment before tightening her grip on his thigh and wrapping her fist around his shaft. She seemed less inhibited this time, Harry's show having spurred her on. She stroked her hand over his length in long pulls, lingering around the tip as she swiped her spit-slicked thumb over the crown. The lazy strokes emulated the soft thrusts he was aching to do through the soft opening of her pussy, the walls tightening into ridges just like her fingers.

"Keep doing that, love, right there," he sighed when she circled the slit, pressing her thumb lightly into the engorged head. His hand behind his head clenched into his hair, tangling the curls between his fingers in a sharp tug. The full of his bottom lip was bit tightly between his teeth, emulating the small pricks of pressure from her nails digging into his thigh.

"Wh-What else do you like?" she asked, voice small and lacking breath though she was only gazing upon his pleasure.

Her breasts peeked through the hair veiling her chest, nipples catching on the strands with each intake of air she brought deep into her lungs. God, he couldn't wait for his chance to play with her body, get familiar with it the way she was doing with his.

"Hold me a little tighter, pretty girl, and go faster," he instructed, gravel crumbling into his tone and deepening his words, "I like it a little rough."

Somehow, his words were able to draw a moan from the girl between his legs, not a hand of his on her to elicit the reaction—only the implication of his words. Nonetheless, (Y/N) did as told, tightening her fist and passing along his shaft in quicker pulls, still taking the time to care for the weeping head that pearled with blurts of precum.

"Like that?" she asked through spit-slicked lips, the light catching the trails her tongue had made over the plush flesh. She lent her head against his bent knee, eyes fixed on her hand that moved over him and along the pulsing vein that laced along the underside.

"Jus' like that," he said, the praise getting stuck in his throat as he fought off a moan in favor of talking to her, "Whenever you're ready, why don't y'give it some kisses? I like that too."

(Y/N) didn't wait like he had expected, instead immediately dipping her head down and smearing her lips over the crown of his prick. Harry didn't bother to conceal his noises of contentment now, a deep groan coming from the back of his throat as he felt the full of her lips cradle his head between the pillows. The only sign of acknowledgment she gave was her eyes peeking up at him through her lashes, otherwise her hand never stuttered in its curated rhythm and her lips continued planting themselves across his heated length.

On her own accord, she worked herself over his shaft, her hand slowing only the tiniest bit as she dotted her lips down to the base. There, she stopped, using only her hand to work over his cock while she looked to Harry with the first sign of hesitation since she'd gotten his encouragement.

"Can I..?" she trailed off, her request hanging in the air as she tipped her head to the side with her hair brushing the inside of his thigh. Her breath fanned over the sensitive skin at his base, his length twitching in her hand as she spoke.

"Y'don't even have to ask, pretty girl," he groaned, a curse slipping out in anticipation of what she was asking permission for.

At his cue, (Y/N) urged forward, resuming the path she had interrupted. She planted a single kiss at the base of his cock before slipping further down and brushing her mouth over the the skin hugging his balls to prick. Harry's eyes shuddered closed in a tight seal as he reached his free hand to settle on the back of her head, slipping his fingers through her hair. She took care to only let the soft of her tongue and the plush of her lips brush over him, even going so far as to plant a sucking kiss to either one in hopes of drawing a reaction from Harry.

He was practically blissed out, Harry in his own world as his thigh tensed under her hand and cock jerked in her still stroking hand. The added heat of her mouth enveloping his sensitive balls, drawing more cum to thrum through them, started him off in the direction of the cliff's edge. She hadn't even properly put him in her mouth yet and he could already see the blissful horizon if he shut his eyes tight enough.

Chancing a look at the scene below him, Harry cracked his eyes open and was greeted by something entirely too erotic to be real. (Y/N) was like his own personal film star the way she had her own blissed out expression with gently closed eyes as she doted on him, laving her tongue over his sensitive skin before topping him off with a smattering of kisses. His hand in her hair tightened as a gruff moan fell from between his lips, using the grip on the strands as leverage as he pulled her up.

"Fuck, c'mere," he murmured to her, her hand slowing around his length as he sat up to meet her halfway.

(Y/N)'s lips were coated in her own spit as he caught them in a kiss, the weight of his hand on the back of her neck keeping her secured against him. His lips smeared over her own in a messy version of the practiced contact they had become so used to. He flicked his tongue across the full of her lips before slipping into her mouth, tasting himself on her own buds along with the tangible sweetness he'd come to associate with her. A sighed call of his name was fanned over his mouth, accompanied by a tightening of her fist around his cock.

"I want to keep going," she breathed next, pulling away the fraction of the inch Harry allowed her, lashes tangled together in the corners.

"(Y/N), love, pretty girl," he rattled off, unable to get enough praises and petnames out of his mouth fast enough. He shook his head, nose skimming the tip of her's. How did he get so lucky? "Go 'head, I jus' needed to kiss y'a little first."

He offered one final peck to the corner of her mouth before loosening his hold on the back of her head and sinking back into his previous position, lounging in her pillows with liquid bones and blissed out muscles. (Y/N) stilled her hand at the base of his cock, lowering to lay on her tummy between his legs. The full of his prick stood at attention in front of her face, the breeze of her heaving breaths fanning over the heated skin.

"Do whatever feels right, sweetheart, I promise 'm going to love it no matter what," Harry encouraged as he noticed the moment of hesitation, "I'll tell y'everything I like." His fingers in her hair soothingly massaged at the roots, the blunt of his nails creating points of clarity to remind her he was right there.

(Y/N)'s melted, starlight gaze sized up the length in front of her before staring off easy. She pressed her lips in familiar kisses over his head, occasionally dipping her tongue out and sweeping over the ruddy crown. Pearls of precum had gathered in the time he had pulled her in for a kiss, leaving something for her to taste and spread around with the help of the full of her lips. If her eyes weren't blinked closed in contentment, she gazed up at him through the vignette of her lashes, gauging his reaction for anything in particular that set him off.

Harry wasn't lying when he said he was sure he was going to like everything bit of attention she paid to his hardness. He didn't bar any of his moans and fleeting hisses of pleasure from falling from his lips, even breathy sighs were permitted to exhale in huffs from his nose. He wanted her to know that she was doing so good he swears stars were about to start circling his head. Though he did refrain from bucking his hips up to match the plush of her mouth, no matter how inviting the slick of her tongue was; he was clinging to his promise of going slow on her account.

Finally, she fit the full of his head between her plush lips, the flat of her tongue laving over him while her hand started half strokes over his base. The motions were a tad disjointed, (Y/N) learning what felt comfortable until she curated a rhythm that had Harry's stomach clenching and his toes curling into the pastel bedding behind her. He hissed a call of her name, his fingers in her hair tightened as her tongue laved over him. She eased him further into the warmth of her mouth, laying his weight over the flat of her tongue. Doing her best to sheath her teeth, she gently sucked on what she had in her stretched mouth, watching the reactions of Harry above her.

His stomach jumped with every pulsing motion of her mouth around him, the muscles tightening and dispelling before collecting again in a jolt. "Feels so fucking good, pretty girl, keep going, keep going," he sighed, his words becoming a breathy ramble the longer he let himself continue.

The tip of her tongue worked from where it was pressed under him, writhing over the skin and tracing the strong vein that ran along the length. He wasn't going to be able to last much longer if she kept her playing up, feeling spurts of precum leaking into her mouth, the lag times growing shorter and shorter with every pulsing suck she administered around him.

"Ca-Can y'take more, love? Keep me warm in your pretty, little mouth?"

(Y/N) all but whined with her lips still suctioned around him, the sound vibrating through his cock and shuddering down his spine. He made a point to keep his eyes open, intent on seeing more of her illicit reactions. She pulled away with a soft popping sound as the suction broke, a lingering string of spit connecting her lips to the crown the head of his cock bowing before draping over his length.

"Will you help me? With your hand in my hair and everything?" she breathed, bare chest heaving as she caught her breath.

His fingers that had been in her hair brushed through the strands before tracing the side of her face. He caressed the heated skin, tucking away baby hairs that clung to the glimmering sheen that swirled around her hairline. With the pad of his thumb, he wiped away the stray string of spit that slicked down her chin, bringing that same finger up to his own lips.

With the hint of her taste lingering over his tongue, Harry gave her a small smile. "Like me pulling your hair a little?" he teased, already reaching out to return the reassuring weight of his palm on the back of her head, "I can do that for you, pretty girl, don't worry. Go back to what y'were doing and I'll start helping y'take more, 'kay?"

With her bottom lip bitten between her teeth, eyes fixed solely on him, (Y/N) eagerly nodded her head. She followed his direction, dipping her head and fitting his cock between her lips like she hadn't just learned his body in a span of a half hour. A strained laugh fluttered from Harry's chest, shifting his hand to collect her hair into a loose ponytail on the back of her head. Allowing her a second to refamiliarize herself with what she liked, he took his time collecting the strands of hair. He made detours around her features, thumbing at her dewy cheekbones as she gently sucked around his length. He threaded his fingers along the baby hairs that bordered the back of her neck, catching the ones that clung to her skin as her tongue worked in feather-light strokes around the pulsing veins lacing around his shaft. Her hand jerked over the rest of his cock, coating him in saliva that strung down the length with slick sounds to match.

When she looked at him with the melted starlight swirling around her irises, Harry tightened his grip on her hair. The added leverage used to start easing her down his prick, working in increments as he spent his focus on her reactions. He guided her into a bobbing motion, taking just a bit more every time she sunk her mouth on him. Her breath came out in heaves through her nose. The rhythm was interrupted when he took her just a fraction further down his length, the tell-tale tightening of her throat contracting around the very head of his cock. She gagged around him, sucking in a breath when she had the chance and pulling back from him.

"Sorry, sorry, love," he gasped, still reeling from the second of exposure he got to the vice of her throat, "Tell me if-if I take y'too far, yeah? Need to go slow with you, remember?"

She nodded her head, looking to him with watery eyes. "I'm okay, I'm okay," she heaved, shuffling closer between his thighs.

"Doing so good, you know that? I've gotta be careful so I don't end our night too early," Harry laughed, trying to ease the pressure he could see settling over her shoulders, "Gonna have to start calling you m'best girl instead, I think."

She keened under his praises, taking the initiative to stretch over his glimmering abdomen and pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. Before Harry had a chance to cling to her, get a taste of her tongue over his, she was back on her tummy between his thighs.

"Eager little thing too," he crooned, a dreamy tint taking over his view of her. He took her hair in his hand again, taking the same special care of caressing her skin and grabbing every obstructing hair into his fist. "Stop me if y'need to, lovie," he instructed as he started inching her down his length.

Wary of the depth she had to stop last time, Harry made a point to work her up slowly. His eyes were fixed to her's, unable to shudder closed no matter how many yearning moans broke from his chest or slithering bouts of pleasure worked up his spine. The curated tempo of his movements started operating in something of a daze, Harry entirely too wrapped up in how good he felt and the fact that the girl he had yearned over for so long was the one that was delivering it to him.

The slick sounds of her hand working over the remaining inches of his length added to the symphony of noises that echoed through the humid silence of (Y/N)'s room, only to be interrupted when Harry wasn't paying attention as (Y/N) edged herself into the territory he was trying to avoid. In his own blissed out distraction, he hadn't noticed her own attempt at going further and fitting him in her throat. She jerked away from him, leaving only her hand to linger around the base of his cock.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she rushed out, voice raw, "I can't take all of you. I tried but—"

"Shh, shh," Harry cooed to her, drifting his hand from her tousled hair to the soft of her face. He traced over her flustered features, thumbing at the tears that threatened to spill over her waterline, "'S okay, pretty girl, don't worry," his fingers shifting to pinch her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tugging her back to his cock in encouraging nudges, "Jus' suck it, yeah? Y'like doing that, right?"

Her muscles seemingly liquified at his encouragement, willing to move whatever which way he needed her to. With her eyes fluttering shut and a deep breath being sucked into her lungs, she tucked the head of his prick into the warmth of his mouth. Harry was proud of the way she bounced back, eager to please him and all too happy to go to the lengths to make sure he was satisfied (she could have backed out and decided to kiss the night away again, and he would have been more than satisfied, but he liked this route, too). He kept his guiding hand on the back of her head, locks of hair threaded through his fingers as he helped her through the motions.

Every bob of her head over his length pulled another stitch of pleasure tighter in Harry's stomach, especially with the help of her laving tongue that snaked over his length and kept the rest of him slick enough for her hand to work over. She was entirely too good at this given that she had confessed she'd barely done this a few times before. Harry was weak in her hands, and she hadn't even known it.

"Look at me, pretty girl." Gravel coated his tone, the words rough and raw as they worked out of his throat. (Y/N) peeked up at him, mouth stretched wide to accommodate his cock with eyes shimmering like true starlight as tears collected on her waterline. Her cheeks hollowed in small increments as his guiding hand slowed the bobbing motions, wanting to get a good look at his own personal Venus. The pressure in his stomach was too tight, his muscles too tense, and his resolve too weak. "Fuck, c'mere," he grunted, pulling her completely from his cock as he tugged her to him.

The loose ponytail of hair he had held in his fist fell away, the ends tickling over his chest as he stretched her over his humid skin. He caught her lips in a kiss, mouth searing against hers in a heat that matched the one brewing between his thighs.

"Was that—Did I do okay?" she asked, voice raw and breathless as the words fanned over his mouth.

"So fucking good, sweetheart. Had to stop or I'd have cum, and I don't want to do that before I've had you."

She all but wilted in his hold, clinging to his chest like the baby hairs that matted to his temples. With his mouth still sealed her her's, Harry rolled them over in her docile state, pinning her to the pink of her bedding as he hovered above her. He indulged in the swollen plush of her mouth, having been deprived of the feeling of them sealed against his own. The essence of himself he had caught earlier, now soaked over her tongue as he swiped his over the buds. (Y/N) buried her fingers in the tamped down curls that haloed his head, keeping him from disappearing down her body like he intended.

"Gotta let me take care of you, pretty girl," he told her, already reaching for one of her hands in his hair.

"I-I don't need you to," she protested, "I'm ready, you don't need to."

A lazy smile bloomed over his lips, (Y/N) moving to smear kisses over the dimples in his cheeks. His hand that had been grabbing for her hand fell down her arm, caressing the bare of her skin before landing at the base of her neck. "Y'may feel like that, but y'said y'haven't done this in a while, right?"

(Y/N) looked up at him with a sheepish tint in her eyes, "But I think I'll be fine. I don't want to wait, H."

"At least let me open y'up a little, yeah? I don't want to hurt you or anything," he offered. His hand that had been settled on her collarbones traced down her front, splayed between her breasts and the soft of her tummy before landing at the band of her panties. "Trust me, I don't want to wait either, love, but I want it to feel good for you, too."

Her fingers in his hair threaded together before sliding to cradle the back of his neck. Her yearning gaze scanned over his features, lingering over his own eyes before falling to his lips. "Okay, just be fast?"

Harry huffed a laugh; she was more of an impatient thing than an eager one the longer he made her wait. "We'll see," he settled, dipping his head down and pulling her in for a kiss before she had a chance to request any more accommodations.

Tucking his fingers into the waist of her panties, he worked them down her thighs enough to spread her legs wide enough for his hand to fit between. At first touch, he could see why she insisted she was ready to take him, no foreplay needed. She was entirely soaked, her slit spread open as more of her slick seeped from her clenching hole. Harry traced his fingers over her opening, dipping inside and wetting the tips before trailing up towards the apex. Her clit was a pristine pearl at the top of her pussy, sensitive to the feather-soft brush of his fingers. (Y/N) jumped and sighed into his mouth, interrupting the distraction of his tongue exploring the soft of her own.

"You're so wet, pretty girl," he crooned, the whisper floating on a raw undercurrent, "Y'liked making me feel good? Like to please?"

The nod of her head was dreamy in natural the way she did the motion without thinking. "I liked seeing you happy; I just wanted to make you cum," she drawled, words slow and lingering.

Harry hummed, the sound just short of a moan that he tamped down before it could escape. "Y'really are m'best girl," he praised, flicking his fingertips over her swollen clit one more time before relenting.

She asked him to be fast, and he was going to try his hardest to do just that. His slick fingers danced down the length of her slit before dipping into her weeping hole. He started with a single finger, getting a feel of how tight she was, a gasp of his name being smeared over his cheek as the digit sunk inside.

Her walls readily swallowed around him, coaxing his finger deeper in sucking pulls. He reared back, readying another finger to sink in beside the first. A choked moan was granted as his praise. The pair of his fingers curled inside her, finding the perfectly spongy cushion on her wall.

"Harry, I—" (Y/N) tried to say, her voice cut off by her own gasp.

"I know, pretty girl," he cooed, painting his lips in a heart over the soft of her flushed cheek, "I know, but we've got to be fast, right? I don't want to keep y'waiting."

His teasing words were ignored as he started scissoring the digits in an effort to spread open her snug walls. They accommodated him fully, clinging to every motion he made while trying to draw him deeper. (Y/N)'s own fingers in his hair mimicked the pulsing going on inside of her, tugging on the strands with every stroke he pushed through her.

"'M gonna add one more, yeah? Tell me if 's too much," he warned, pulling his drenched fingers from her. (Y/N) wordlessly nodded her head, eyes shuddered closed as she clung to him.

The trio of his digits formed something of a pyramid, stacked atop one another as he worked them inside. He was met with resistance from her clenching hole, the first sign of how long it had truly been for her the last time she had anything that big inside her. She gasped as he prodded forward, nudging at her clenched hole.

"Still okay, love?" he grunted, allowing her to pull him to her puckered lips. He indulged in a single kiss from her before he turned away, giving her access to his jawline which she happily painted her lips across.

"I'm okay, keep going," she urged him, words muffled against his heated skin.

He huffed a laugh through his nose. She was entirely too precious for what they were doing at the moment. Nonetheless, he abided by her request and marched on, fitting the thick of his fingers into her opening and spreading them as best he could in the limited space. Her breathing was labored, breasts heaving and brushing against his own chest with each intake. He took his time, working his fingers through in steady strokes before spreading out the trio and stretching her snug walls apart. They pulsed around him like a heartbeat, urging him deeper though he didn't have anymore to give until he fit his own hips against hers.

In an effort to distract from the pushing and pulling of his fingers, this part less pleasurable as he was intent on doing nothing more than stretching her, Harry worked a trail of kisses from the full of her cheek and down the curve of her neck. He skimmed his lips over the round of her breast before taking her peaked nipple between his lips and flicking his tongue over the bud. She keened into his touch, back arching into his mouth. With the help of her clenched hands behind his neck, she kept him pressed against the flesh, urging him to continue with breathless whimpers and half-finished sighs of his name.

Harry felt her wetness seeping over his digits, slicking between his fingers and slipping down over his knuckles. She was still tight enough that he was no doubt going to be a stretch when he thrusted inside, but he wasn't worried about any lingering strains that he could put on her. Pulling his drenched fingers from her hole, Harry spread them over the whole of her slit, making pointed brushes against her clit. A hiss of his name and a tug to his hair reminded him that this wasn't even the end of the night; he was going to get an even better feel of the wetness between her legs.

Kissing his way from her chest, Harry whispered, "I think you're ready, pretty girl." He nudged his nose along the line of her jaw, strands of her sweat-dampened hair tickling his face, "Y'feel ready?"

A frantic nod was gifted in response, "Yes, yes—Please."

(Y/N) didn't waste a second before she started tugging him to sit comfortably between her thighs, shaking her legs free of the flimsy material that made up her underwear. Harry let out a breathy laugh, the sound mixing in with the humid air that surrounded them. "Hold on, slow down," he smiled, "I've got to grab something first."

He reluctantly left the heat of her bed, his body calling to stay attached to her's. Making quick work of rifling through the pile of clothing on the floor, he found his pants and searched the pockets for his wallet.

"What are you looking for?" (Y/N) asked, propping her self up on her elbows with her eyes fixed on his bare form.

"Condom," he responded, flipping open the leather of his wallet and finding the foil packet he had tucked away in hopes of a night like this.

(Y/N) fell back with a laugh, "You planned this?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders, using his teeth to bite open the wrapping. "Can't say I didn't hope. Can y'blame me, pretty girl?" he prodded, rolling the rubber over his length, "You're a very good kisser, so 's hard not to think about what else y'might be good at."

A beat passed as he situated the condom on his prick, a shudder working down his spine as he tugged a few cursory passes of his fist over the length.

"You're a good kisser, too."

A breathy laugh fell fell from Harry's lips. "Thank you, love," he smiled, all but rushing to join her snuggled form on the bed. He crawled between her spread legs, finding her own lips curled into a small smile, a touch of clarity rejoining her eyes.

She welcomed him between her thighs, the space crafted to hold his hips and cling to him. Harry stationed his hands on either side of her head, matching the gaze of her starlight eyes. The palms of her hands settled on the broad of his shoulders, fingers digging into the tensed muscles as the pad of her thumb traced over the tattoos inked over his collarbones.

It was Harry's turn to pull her into an easing kiss as he slowly lowered himself to press the length of his body over her own. The weight of his prick was fit between them, the soft of her tummy cushioning him as he fought off the urge to rut into her. The full of her thighs tightened around his hips with each lingering swipe of her tongue over his, causing the slickness between her thighs to slip over the underside of his heated cock. A rocky groan slipped from the back of Harry's throat only to be swallowed by (Y/N).

"Can you—Please, I want you," she stuttered against his lips, "You said we wouldn't wait any—"

"I know, pretty girl," he murmured, "I know. Gonna push in right now, yeah? Gonna go slow with you."

He stuck to his word, reaching a hand between their bodies and grabbing at his shaft in a rough hold. Rearing his hips back despite the resistance given from her gripping thighs, Harry lined himself up with the plush opening of her pussy. He slicked his head through her slit, brushing her sensitive clit and smearing the wetness around her folds.

(Y/N) tucked her face into his neck, planting her lips along the curve of his throat with her nose skimming over his jawline. His hand he had wrapped in the bedding beside her head gripping the fabric even tighter as he felt the phantom clench of her hole kissing at his nudging head. True to his promise, he made slow work of tucking his prick inside her, savoring the velvet of her pulsing walls. A gasp stuttered from his chest as the crown of his cock popped inside her, the ridge clearing the tightest tensing of her inner walls. (Y/N) breathed out a call of his name, the word melting over his heated skin, adding to the humidity that clung to him.

"Fuck," he cursed as her walls coaxed him inside, doing half the work as he smoothly sunk inside her, "You're s'fucking wet, pretty girl, sucking me in. 'M not gonna last."

Her mouth gaped around words she couldn't get out, the full of her lips felt against his neck where she buried her face into his shoulder. "I fe-feel you everywhere," she managed to choke out, her voice dissolving halfway through as he bottomed out.

"Yeah?" Harry panted, knocking his hips against hers with a thwack of his balls against her ass, "Deep enough, love?" Starting off a slow pace, the slick of her wetness added to the sounds of contentment and breathless yearning that built in Harry's chest and fell delicately from (Y/N)'s lips.

A frantic nod of her head caused her lashes to brush over his neck with her lips dragging over his skin. "So deep, its in my tummy."

Harry's eyes could have rolled to the back of his head when she said that, his hips stuttering against her's in a clinging grind. He knew he was big, and decidedly bigger than anyone she had been with in the past, but that kind of praise went straight to his head and pulled his balls tight against the underside of his cock. He really wasn't going to last if she kept this up.

Turning his head, he forced her out of the protection of his neck, and pulled her in for a kiss the first second he got. His mouth smeared across the full of her lips, sealing over the spit-slicked pillows. "I've wanted y'for so long, (Y/N), you know that?" he mumbled, the intimacy of the moment loosening his lips, "Been waiting to take care of y'like y'deserve. Show y'how much I care about you."

"Harry," she sighed, the short volume being all she could manage with the breath she had left. Each lingering thrust of his hips into hers pulled another breath from her lungs and melted her into the mattress, leaving only her clinging grasp on him to keep her from falling a dreamy haze.

"I know, pretty girl," he crooned, his voice strained as the tension in his stomach increased, his focus fixing on making sure he didn't cum right at the sound of his name on her tongue, "Gonna make y'cum so hard tonight, make y'feel so good—better than anyone else."

Harry emphasized his point with a hard stroke inside her, his guiding hand that he had settled on the bone of her hip drifting over to smear the pad of his thumb over her clit. Just because he was going to stick to his word of taking her slowly, didn't mean he was going to wait to make her cum around him.

"You're alr-already the best, Harry—oh my god," she bleated, taking away Harry's chance at answering her as she sealed her lips to his and slipped her tongue inside his mouth.

Every round of Harry's thumb over her clit coincided with a thrust of his hips, her walls fluttering and sucking around him as sparks of pleasure manifested in her tense muscles and strings of her wetness seeping around him. She squirmed into him, arching her back with her breasts pressed tightly against his chest with her hips grinding into his every chance she had.

"I think I'm gonna—Harry, I'm—" she floundered, words floating in the air around them as she couldn't find the frame of mind to finish them. He knew what she was saying, anyway, if the way her fingers clutching his hair and the tightening of her pussy was anything to go by.

He gave her space to breathe, smoothing his mouth over her cheek to feel the flushed skin and skim his nose over her dewy cheekbone. "Cum for me, pretty girl, 'm right here. I've got you, jus' cum for me."

That was all the encouragement she needed, Harry's relentless working of her body coming to a head as she let go around him in frantic pulses of her walls and the tight grip of her thighs around his hips. Her back arched, keening noises falling from her lips that sounded a lot like Harry's name. With her eyes still shuddered tightly closed, she ground her hips upwards into his hand, enveloping the full of Harry's length and wetting him with the gush of her slick that seeped from her fluttering hole.

Feeling her release around him and the intimacy of the way she clung to him was enough for Harry to feel his own orgasm on the horizon. He helped her through the aftershocks as best her could before his own muscles gave way to the tight coil in his stomach, hips stuttering before resorting to deep grinds against the furthest of her tight walls. His cum came in spurts, painting the inside of the condom and making his body feel hot to the touch.

"(Y/N), sweetheart, fuck," he groaned, nothing else in his head registering but the mantra of her name and the blissful pleasure she was inducing for him. He attached his lips to her thrumming pulse, sucking a bruise into the delicate skin as a way of quelling his need to be all around her, on her, and in her—even more so than he already was.

Tremors shock up his spine as he finally settled, relaxing his weight atop her as he melted. Harry's breathing came out in disjointed pants against her neck, finally noticing the curling of her fingers through his hair and the delicate brush of her fingertips against his scalp. (Y/N)'s own hold on him waned, now only delicately clinging to him if only to remind herself he was real and he was right there, just as he promised.

It felt like tradition for Harry to use the first of his strength to crane his neck and pull her in for a tender kiss. Gone was the urgency to claim her, keep her for himself, leaving only the affection he hoped she felt every step of the way through the night. (Y/N) languidly followed his guidance, slotting her lips against his and soaking in the comedown.

"Harry?" she murmured, dragging her hands down the length of his back before settling on his waist.

"Hm?" he hummed, unwilling to pull away from her lips.

(Y/N) had to be the one to pull back, seeing as Harry was refusing to do so. She rolled her head back to lay sink into the pillows, displaying her neck for him to get distracted by. "Will you—Or, are you staying the night?" she peeped, Harry feeling her voice against his lips before he heard it.

A furrow pinched at his brow. He was planning on it, but if she had other plans, he wasn't going to impose and take up her bed. "Do y'want me to?"

A beat passed, only the disjointed rhythm of their breathing filling the silence.

"Please?"

Harry settled his palm on the line of her jaw, tugging her to match his gaze while he pet his thumb affectionately over the plane of her cheek. "Of course, 'm gonna stay. Told you I was gonna take care of you, right? This is part of that."

Something pinched at his heart realizing why she felt like she had to ask if he would stay. He didn't know the caliber of men she had been interested in in the past, but if they were anything like Andrew, he was sure they were more of the type to get what they want and slink out the first chance they had. But, what Harry wanted was her—all of her, not just the eager little thing she was between the sheets, but the clinging girl that wrapped herself around him after her orgasm, and the one that wanted him to read over her essay for class later. He wanted every bit of her.

"Thank you," she murmured, surging forward to kiss him only for Harry to turn his cheek.

"Don't thank me, 'kay? This isn't a chore, I want to be here with you," he reassured, dotting his lips against the corner of her mouth. He pulled away to find her looking at him with her melted irises, the starlight of her lust having drained to leave only the tender affection swimming through them. A genuine smile covered his features as he he drifted his thumb to the full of her lips, where she passed a kiss to the pad.

"Let's get cleaned up, and then we'll cuddle before bed. How does that sound?"

As Harry held her cheek in his palm, the most precious thing he's ever had the privilege of touching, he couldn't quell the flutter in his tummy at the thought of waking up to her in the morning.

—————

"Harry, wake up."

A drawling call of his name pulled Harry an inch closer to the surface of consciousness, the details of his dream blurring in to a distance memory.

"Harry."

The singsong tone that called to him elongated the syllables of his name, turning it into a melody. He became absently aware of the pressure sitting across his thighs with feather-light touches dotting over his face in affectionate puffs. The voice called one more time, requesting him to wake up.

Harry finally relented, blinking his eyes open as he found himself in a pastel apartment that wasn't his with a girl sat in his lap that was entirely the opposite. (Y/N)'s face bloomed into a giddy smile at the sight of him cracking his eyes open, reaching towards the periwinkle plate she had balanced on the side table.

"You're awake! You sleep really hard, you know," she laughed, shifting off of his lap to sit beside him in the puffs of her comforter, "I made you breakfast."

A sleepy laugh came through the fatigued clog in Harry's throat, mimicking her action of sitting up against her pillows. He rubbed his fist over his eyes, looking to be rid of the film of sleep that coated them, "Morning, lovie. You made me breakfast?"

While it wasn't like he didn't appreciate the gesture, Harry was just a touch wary about her skills in the kitchen still.

Nonetheless, (Y/N) eagerly nodded her head, urging the china in his direction. "It's not much, but I wanted to do something special for you after last night."

A toasted bagel opened up into halves with butter on one side and what looked to be raspberry preserves on the other greeted him as he dipped his clearing gaze towards her offering. She was so cute—the cutest, sweetest thing he'd ever met in his life. She made him breakfast, the best way she knew how. How could he not adore her?

"Pretty girl, this looks amazing," he praised, voice raspy from sleep, "Didn't have to do anything special for me, though. Last night was just as good for me, remember?"

She shyly smiled at the implication of his words, watching as he took the plate from her and took the first bite of the buttered half. "I don't know," she started, absently picking at her bed spread, "I was just really happy when I woke up and you were still here. It just made everything real and all."

His heart chipped only for (Y/N) to worm her way through and fortify another area of his heart. Just another little reminder that it seemed she hadn't been treated right before him. A small smile colored his features, reaching his free hand towards her to wrap around her shoulders and tuck her fiercely into his chest. The plate of breakfast was settled on his lap, out of the way so the full of Harry's attention could be better spent on his girl.

"Of course, I stayed," he cooed, dropping his head to press a kiss to her temple before curating a path to the corner of her mouth. He pulled back just enough to nudge his nose against her's in a puppy's kiss, lashes tangling. "'S me and you, remember? 'M here as long as y'want me."

(Y/N) pulled away only to serve him a glimmering smile, features softened with her melting irises pouring into his own.

"Yeah. It's me and you, H."

—————

merlot wine is a rich red wine, sweetened by notes of strawberry and raspberry and made smoky by the musk of tobacco. bottled romance.

ahhh!!!! this is it!! this part is....something GTHISFHOSHU but thank u all sm for reading this story w me and taking the time to read the series!! sorry for any mistakes u may find and please if u have any questions or requests or any thoughts please send me a message!! thank u !

[selfindulgentpoorlywritten]

Auriferous  (Jamie Oleksiak)

Hi! Was I ignoring my WIPs to write this? Perhaps. Anyway, this is my fic for @antoineroussel ‘s surprise prompts! I got Jamie Oleksiak and the word auriferous - yielding or containing gold. Yes, I am obsessed with the idea of men being the one proposed to.

Rating: T

Pairing: Jamie Oleksiak/fem!reader

Words: 4295

Warnings: none

Summary: A craft class inspires you to take the next step.

There are a lot of fun things to do in Seattle, as you’d learned shortly after moving here. You’d been nervous that you would regret the move, but it had surprised you how much you love the city. It’s incredibly different from Dallas, in a good way. You’ve spent a lot of the last year working, but there’s been no shortage of things to do in your free time. Jamie loves tagging along when he can, always eager to spend as much time with you as possible. Dating someone who’s away half the time can be difficult, but the two of you have been able to make it work.

The new season hasn’t started yet, but the two of you are back in Seattle and training camp is right around the corner. Two weeks ago, you’d both signed up for a jewelry making class at the Pratt Fine Arts Center. This is your second class, and while you’re a bit distracted as the instructor speaks, Jamie is endearingly focused. He has a little crease between his brows as he takes notes. Sometimes he’s so cute you can’t stand it.

You’re able to pay more attention once the hands-on part of the class starts, having always been a more tactile learner. Last class had been mostly verbal instruction, so it’s exciting to finally have the tools in your hands. You’ve already cut the metal strip for your band, and today’s challenge is to shape it. Jamie is carefully tapping the strip into an oval, concentrating so hard that you’re not sure he remembers that anything else exists. The metal looks tiny in his huge hands, as he hunches over to reach the worktable.

You beat him to the brazing process, using more force than he does and so having your oval done first. It’s a little beat-up looking, but you think it’s pretty good for your first time. The ring glows bright red under the torch and you carefully wrap the solder around the joint before reapplying the heat. Generally, you aren’t super trustworthy around fire, but at least you have proper safety equipment this time.

Both of your rings are brazed and circular by the time you leave. You discuss the class in the car, watching the city pass around you. Once home, you change into comfortable clothes and watch an episode of a show while you have a snack. With the little time that you have left before hockey reclaims Jamie, you don’t mind staying up late.

The class has gotten you thinking along lines that you’ve mostly avoided. Picking up your life and moving north to be with Jamie had made you think this way, too. You really have structured your life around being with him, and you’ve found that it works well for you. That you wouldn’t change a thing. That you intend to stay by his side as long as he’ll allow, whether that’s forever or not.

“Forever” is the idea that’s been haunting you. The rings that you’re making are sterling silver, but that doesn’t stop you from imagining a little gold band in the future. Even in your longest relationship before Jamie, you’d never really seen the appeal of being married. Now, you get it.

The two of you had begun dating less than a year before he got traded to the Penguins, and you had expected it to fizzle out once he was halfway across the country. Instead, he’d put in even more effort to keep the relationship going despite the distance. You’d surprised yourself by reciprocating it, trying harder than you’d ever bothered before.

It had been way too early for you to even consider moving to Pittsburgh to be with him, and luckily he was traded back to the Stars before you had to reconsider that decision. Another two years went by, and he still hadn’t gotten tired of you. Quite the opposite: he seemed to fall more in love with you over time. Even when you’d moved in together and he had to be around you all the time, he still loved you. Even as he learned more of your flaws, even when you fought, he loved you.

So when he got drafted by Seattle, you didn’t hesitate. You’d never known that someone could make you feel the way Jamie does, so you followed him without regret. Despite your friends’ reservations, you knew what was right for you.

Landing in Seattle had been the first time that you considered how a flash of gold would look on Jamie’s finger, and hadn’t been the last.

You’d mostly avoided the thought until you’d started the class, not wanting to examine how you feel about the possibility. It had been made clear to you throughout your life that you’re a bit too much, more effort than you’re worth. Jamie is the first person who’s ever made you question that idea, and by now, you don’t believe that anymore. Most days. But thinking about marriage brings it back with a vengeance. You know that you want to marry him, that there’s never going to be another person you love like him. Your brain just won’t seem to let you believe that he could feel the same way.

He’s spent the last five years proving just how much he wants to be with you, but certain insecurities are difficult to overcome. You’re trying, though.

When Jamie proudly shows you the setting he’s made for his ring the next week, you can’t help but kiss him. Being so careful about the process has made him move slower, but it’s also made the ring look more impressive than you’d anticipated. You look back to your own setting, slightly different than his. The entire class is making the same pattern, but the instructor had allowed some of you to alter it slightly to be more masculine. The wide band has a few small dents in it, and the setting is a little uneven, but you think Jamie will like it anyway.

His first day of training camp sneaks up on you, only really registering when you kiss him on the cheek on his way out. He’s excited, like he always is, despite the way the previous season had gone. He’s in on the ground floor of something brand new, and he truly believes that things will get better. You admire that kind of strength and optimism.

You’d found a nice work from home job when you moved to Seattle, so you get to sit around in your pajamas while he sweats at the rink. The work is a lot of “hurry up and wait”, so you get to be paid for browsing the internet and watching a bunch of Netflix.

Between meetings, when you’re caught up on your tasks, you remember a website that you used to play on all the time. You open it up, being presented with a clean, white page with tasteful text. You used to think it was so fun to mess around designing custom jewelry that you couldn’t afford. You hadn’t been in the same mindset, then.

The men’s rings are mostly either boring or painfully ostentatious. You play around with them anyway, giggling as you design the biggest, ugliest ring you’ve ever seen. Looking at rings is mostly for laughs, is what you tell yourself. You’re just rediscovering an old pastime, nothing serious.

After a couple more meetings, you have some more downtime, and go back to the website. It’s only another fifteen minutes before you see a piece that stops you in your tracks. All of their necklaces are technically “women’s”, but this one could definitely work for any gender. The chain is less delicate than other options, the pendant a rounded diamond shape, almost circular, with a large stone in the middle.

You click it, customizing it without thinking. With your cushy new job, it’s within your budget. Not that you’d decided on a budget going into this entire endeavor, but the price isn’t anything scary. You’ve clicked the checkout button before your brain kicks back in. Unfortunately, you have awful impulse control. Once you’ve decided to do something, there’s almost nothing in the world that can stop you. So you stare at the order confirmation screen, mentally screaming.

Did you just buy Jamie an engagement chain? Yes. Yes you did.

You try to rationalize it to yourself, anxiety bubbling up from your stomach. It doesn’t have to be an engagement thing. Hockey players wear chains all the time, so you could just give it as a regular gift and he would never know. Except you don’t want to do that. You want to get on one knee and offer it up while you ask him to marry you. But you can wait to do it, as long as you want. It’s not like jewelry goes bad. You could totally let this sit in a drawer somewhere for a month, a year, whatever. Nothing you tell yourself helps quell the fear.

When Jamie comes home, it takes him less than sixty seconds to notice that something’s off. You deflect his questions, coming up with a half-baked excuse about work being stressful today. He gives you a look, making it clear that he knows you’re lying, but thankfully he knows when to drop the subject.

You manage to act much more normal than you feel, after that. You have a thorough discussion with your therapist about the situation, and leave feeling both better and worse. She knows you well enough by now to pick just enough at your insecurities and memories that you spend the next two days trying to untangle the knots she’d loosened.

By the end of your final jewelry class, you and Jamie have two silver rings with dark stones in them. You’d decided before you’d even started that you’d exchange them, but you wait until you get home to do it. As Jamie slips the ring onto your finger, a perfect fit, you can’t help the way your heart leaps into your throat. You return the gesture, admiring the way that the ring glints on his hand. Neither of you can stop smiling, playing with the rings and complimenting each other’s skills.

Luck must be on your side, because the conspicuous package arrives while Jamie is at practice. The second the black box is out of the cardboard, you break it down and take it out to the dumpster so that Jamie doesn’t see it. The logo printed on the box was too clear about its contents to keep around.

The chain is perfect. The loose fit of the golden chain links, the shine of it around the black diamond embedded in the center. It takes a couple tries to get it back in the dark blue box neatly.

You’re already tapping the contact in your phone on your way to stash the box in the back of the closet. It rings while you shove the chain into a larger box of random things you never bothered to unpack, buried in the back of the closet.

“Hello?” Penny’s voice is clear through your headphones.

“Hey,” you greet, “How are you?” The pleasantries don’t last long, as if Penny can tell that you’ve called for a specific reason. She tells you a little bit about her training that day, and you confirm that your job is still just as boring as last time you spoke. You make sure to ask after her parents, and she assures you that they’re doing well.

“Y/N,” she interrupts, “What’s going on?” You swallow, sitting down on the edge of the bed. You let out a deep breath to calm yourself.

“Is it outdated to ask the family for permission to propose?” you ask. Her silence is deafening.

“Is this a hypothetical?” she asks. You laugh a little, fiddling with a loose thread on your pajama pants. Upside to having a work from home job is that you only have to wear a nice shirt, because no one ever sees your legs.

“Maybe?” you reply, “I haven’t decided yet.” You can practically hear Penny shaking her head at you. She sighs, saying your name again.

“Hypothetically speaking,” she answers, a smile evident in her voice, “It’s really up to what makes you comfortable.” That’s basically the response you were expecting, but it’s not exactly what you want to know.

“Hypothetically speaking,” you say, “If I were to propose to Jamie, would your parents want me to ask first?” Penny laughs. You were worried about her being too serious about this, or being mad that you called her about this in the first place.

“Hypothetically,” she replies, “I think that they would appreciate it, but wouldn’t require it.” There’s something terrifying about the prospect of asking their parents for their blessing. They’ve made it clear for years that they love you, and consider you part of the family. But there’s always the tiny chance that they say no, or come up with some condition. What if they think the man should be the one to propose? They’re forward-thinking enough that you don’t expect them to feel that way, but there’s always a chance.

“Okay,” you say, “Okay.” You chew on your bottom lip for a few quiet moments.

“Hey Penny?” you ask, waiting for her “yeah” in response.

“Would you be okay with me proposing to your brother?” you ask, fingers digging into the bedspread. Penny loves you too, even calls you her sister to others. Still, you’re expecting even a slight pause that doesn’t come.

“Of course, dumbass,” she says immediately, making you chuckle, “Now I’m gonna be disappointed if you don’t.” That rips the smile off of your face. You swallow hard, throat clicking. It’s weird to have some type of pressure on this, especially when you’re still on the fence about doing it at all.

“Hey,” Penny calls a couple seconds into your silence, “He’s gonna say yes, okay?” You nod, even though she can’t see it. The nodding helps you find your voice.

“Okay,” you say, trying to convince yourself, “Yeah. Okay.” The both of you let the silence hang this time, neither of you sure of what to say. You keep repeating in your head he’s gonna say yes over and over, like thinking it enough will make it true.

“Let me know when you do it okay?” she says with an upward lilt to her voice, trying to lighten the mood “I’d better be the first to know.” A half-hearted laugh is all you can manage.

“I have you on speed-dial,” you reply. There’s not much else to say, so you close with more pleasantries before hanging up. At least one person thinks that this is a good idea.

-

As nerve-wracking as talking to Penny had been, asking Jamie’s parents for his hand in marriage is on another level. You’ve been preparing for over a week, rehearsing exactly what you’re going to say and how to say it, talking to yourself in the mirror like a loon. You have Jamie’s game schedule memorized, so you had already planned to do this on the day he leaves for a long roadie. If it goes badly, you’ll need the time he’s away to lick your wounds.

Alison is both surprised and happy to see you when she answers the FaceTime call, fussing over you and how you’re doing. You get through the mom-ness of it all with a smile on your face, overly fond of how she treats you as her daughter.

“Mom, is dad there?” you ask at the first appropriate pause. Alison’s brow furrows.

“Yeah, he’s here,” she says, “Is everything okay?” You rush to assure her that it’s all fine, no bad news. Well, maybe bad news, if they don’t take it well. You’ve amended Penny’s statement in your head for the past few days to say they’ll say yes, which you start repeating to yourself. Alison fetches Rich, the two of them trying to cram themselves into frame in the awkward way that only older people can manage.

“I have a question for you both,” you begin, all of your carefully rehearsed words flying out of your brain. There’s silence as you grasp for them, trying to piece together something coherent. Rich gives a quiet “go on” in encouragement.

“I’m going to propose to Jamie,” you blurt out, the first time you’ve said it in a concrete way, “And I wanted to know if you’re okay with that.” They both look stunned, eyebrows raised and mouths slightly open. The dead air gives you just enough time to panic. You’re not even sure what you’re panicking more about: asking them that, or the fact that you’ve now officially solidified your plan.

“Of course!” Alison practically shrieks, stifling a high-pitched, excited noise with her hand. Rich’s face breaks out into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on him. You let out a comically huge exhale.

“Really?” you ask, mostly in disbelief. This has all been too easy. Not only are they okay with it, they seem excited about it. You’ve known that they love you, but to want you as an official, legal part of the family? That’s more of a surprise than it should be.

“Of course, honey,” Rich replies, his chest puffed up a little in pride, “There’s no one else we’d rather have.” The tears are building up in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. Being loved and accepted is something you’re still not used to- from anyone but Jamie- and it’s making you emotional.

Alison grills you on the how and what and when, and you answer her questions gladly. She seems to think it’s all incredibly sweet and romantic, which helps your confidence. Even if he were to say no, at least it’ll be a great proposal.

-

Being that you know Jamie’s schedule, you know exactly when to propose. He has a complete day off a week and a half later. No games, no practice, not even media. You spend the time perfecting your plan, figuring out what you’re going to say. Considering how your preparation had gone when asking his parents, you’re pretty sure you’ll forget everything in the moment. It helps to practice, anyway.

It takes pretty much no convincing to get the guys to agree to lunch that day, them being constantly hungry hockey players. You invite a few of his non-team friends as well, wanting all of his favorite people to be there. Only one person can’t make it, which you consider a relative success.

The morning of, you wake Jamie up with breakfast in bed. It’s something you’re prone to doing now and again since you work from home, so he doesn’t question it. You spend the morning lazing around in bed, before casually bringing up lunch. Surprising him with a huge group of friends would tip him off that something is going on, so you make it seem like you’d been invited by someone else and forgotten to tell him about it. He agrees readily, excited when you tell him it’s at his favorite spot.

You use lunch as an excuse to get dressed up and do your makeup. The sundress you wear, dotted with bright yellow sunflowers, is Jamie’s favorite. You do your makeup in shades of gold to match. Jamie wears a simple combo of jeans and a button-up, but you think he looks amazing. You always think he looks amazing, though.

Lunch is a hit, with everyone upbeat and playful. The only thing you’d had to explain was why his other friends were there, but you played it off that you’d just invited them because you hadn’t seen them in a while. Thinking on your feet isn’t a specialty of yours, so you’re proud of yourself for coming up with something believable. You hadn’t told anyone why you’re doing all of this, just that you had a surprise for Jamie.

He chatters the entire way home, entirely unlike himself. The happiness is radiating off of him, making him shine like the sun. Your heart warms to see him so bright.

When you get home, you spend the afternoon watching his favorite movies. It’s peaceful, even with the way you both comment at the screen throughout. Jamie tells you little trivia facts, some of which you’ve heard before, but are glad to hear again. You’d listen to him talk about just about anything. The day is going perfectly, setting you at ease.

Typically, a proposal would involve a fancy dinner at a nice restaurant, but you know better. Jamie likes the upscale places you go on occasion, yes, but he’ll like this better. You take him to the hot dog truck next to the park, ordering your usuals. You walk around the park as you eat, talking amiably about nothing. There had been a similar truck back in Jersey, where you’re from, that you missed when you moved to Texas. When you came to Seattle, Jamie had gone out and found one just for you. This park is a lot safer to walk around after sunset than the one back east, which is a nice upgrade.

Full and satisfied, you head home. You’d made a playlist of all his favorite songs that you’ve been playing in the car all day. He sings along to one of the songs, and you can’t help but join in. You’re both laughing as you walk through the front door, playfully shoving each other.

“Hold on a second,” you say, “I gotta go grab something.” He’s too happy to even be confused by that. By the time you return with the box, he’s moved into the kitchen. You can hear the snap of popcorn in the microwave, Jamie standing in front of it on his phone. The plan is to watch more movies, so you’re not surprised.

You call his name softly and he turns around. The box is in your hand, surreptitiously hidden behind the island. As expected, the words leave you. Guess you’ll just have to speak from your heart.

“Today was nice, right?” you ask. He puts his phone down on the countertop, taking a step closer.

“Yeah,” he replies, “Of course.” That brings you some relief, knowing that he enjoyed your plans. The anxiety is still nearly overwhelming, though. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“Every day is nice with you,” you begin, letting the words come naturally, “Every day since I met you has been the best day of my life.”

“I never really thought that I could love someone at all, let alone the way that I love you,” you continue, feeling yourself tear up against your wishes, “And I definitely never thought that someone could love me back. Especially someone like you.”

“You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever known,” you say, the words pouring out of you, “And I’m so incredibly lucky to have you in my life.” His face has moved from being scrunched in confusion to something soft and bittersweet. You’re beginning to get choked up, so you forgo the other million things that you want to say to him. Ideally, you’ll have the rest of your lives to tell him all of that.

His hand flies up to grip the island counter when you drop to one knee.

“Jamie Oleksiak,” you swallow hard, “Will you marry me?” You brandish the box, cracking it open. If someone had asked you the reaction you’d expected to get, you wouldn’t have said “baffled”. Yet Jamie’s staring at the box, completely perplexed. You tilt the box so that you can look at it too, horror overcoming you.

It’s empty.

What the absolute fuck. The box has been sitting in the back of the bedside drawer since you’d moved it there a few days ago. No one knew it was there except you. Did you somehow get robbed for literally one item?

Suddenly, Jamie starts laughing hysterically. This had been one of the options you’d considered for a reaction, but not for this reason. Your face is burning and you’re truly on the verge of tears. It takes every ounce of willpower to resist the tears, staring up at him with watery eyes.

He steps forward to kneel down in front of you, laughter subsiding into a radiant smile. This is somehow more humiliating than the option where he’d outright rejected you. How could you have been so stupid as to lose it? Jamie cups your face in his hands, kissing your forehead.

“I didn’t realize,” he says, reaching into his shirt with one hand. The chain glints gold in the dim kitchen lighting when he pulls it out. He’s… wearing it. He’s wearing it?

“What?” is all you can say.

“I found it in a drawer,” he explains, “I thought that I bought it and forgot about it.” That is, objectively, hilarious. You sob out a laugh, relief flooding your body. The wetness in your eyes isn’t subsiding quite yet, but at least you hadn’t lost the most important thing you’ve ever bought. Jamie hugs you tight, kissing the top of your head over and over again. You clutch onto his shoulders for dear life.

“By the way,” he says after a minute, “The answer is yes, in case it wasn’t clear.” Now you’re helpless to keep from crying, letting the tears soak his shirt. He’s sniffling too, tear tracks down either side of his face when he pulls back.

“I love you,” you say, kissing him with everything bubbling inside of you.

“I love you, too,” he replies, giving you a quick kiss before looking into your eyes so deeply that you feel stripped bare, “Forever.”

“Forever,” you echo. You both laugh.

[juletheghoul]

Burning Hour (Part 3)

This series has completely taken over my life and I am so happy you are all enjoying it so much - thank you for all of the lovely messages and comments - I treasure them deeply.

So - you shouldn't be surprised that this particular moment on the red carpet absolutely inspired a scene in this story and I regret nothing. Hope you all enjoy this fantasy that's keeping me going lol.

Din Djarin x F!Reader (Virgin reader)

Pairing: Din x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) Angst, pining, slow-burn, implied arranged marriage, language, age-gap (about 10-11 years, legal, reader is of age) Yearning, jealousy, fingering/touching / slight dirty talk (slightly possessive)

Let me know if I missed anything!

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist Series Masterlist Part 4

—

You floated through the morning.

Your dreams were full of kisses, of declarations of love and beskar glinting under the sun and it was hard to concentrate on anything.

You smiled to yourself as you broke your fast with warm bread and butter, feeling his eyes on you from his place behind your father.

“Your highness-” Your father’s advisor came through the door holding the usual paperwork, things for him to look over, letters to read. “-A letter has come for the Princess.” He turned to you then with a smile. He was an old man, grandfatherly and sweet. He handed it to you and you noticed from the corner of your eye Din’s helmet turn towards you.

It was a small letter and you noticed how beautiful the script was as you opened it.

Dearest Princess,

I would be honoured if you were to join me here at my home for dinner. My messenger awaits your response and if you agree, I will send my personal household guard to accompany you. I also imagine your knight will be in attendance, I welcome him and whoever else you choose to bring at my table. Ruby as well of course.

Hoping you’ll say yes.

Ever yours,

Poe. D.

“It’s from Poe, he asks that I join him this evening for dinner.” You were frowning at the letter, conflicted because you wanted to stay home, wanted to meet Din in the garden again. A tiny part of you however, the tiniest part wanted to say yes - wanted to see how Poe would behave. Part of you wanted him to do something unforgivable to wipe the smiles off your parents faces.

“Oh but you must go!” Your father’s voice boomed through the room and you imagined that you could almost hear Din’s jaw clenching.

“Yes my darling, you must go. What does the letter say?” Your mother held her hand out and you handed it to her. She smiled as she read it. “Din, you must accompany her.” She was smiling big, excited at the prospect of a match having been made. No one bothered to ask if you wanted to go.

“Yes of course, let his messenger know that the Princess will be in attendance. She will go, Din- I leave her safety in your hands. Take you who must.” It had been decided for you, and you had to accept it. You felt Mila’s hand grasp yours under the table in understanding.

-

“Which gown would you like to wear your highness?” She asked sadly as you put on your undergarments and you sighed.

Whichever one makes everyone leave me alone.

“Whichever you think would look best sweetling, I have no preference.” You said the words and they were honest. Yes - Poe was charming and sweet, handsome and in another life you would have been faint with excitement at his interest in you but you were in love with Din. He was the one you wanted to share a meal with. He was the one you wanted to kiss in the open - to have holding your hand as you sat together in front of the hearth. He was the one you wanted in your bed.

“How about this one?” She held out a lovely powder blue gown. You would have said no, something more plain but you had to be seen to be making an effort.

“Yes, that will do nicely.” You smiled but it didn’t reach your eyes. She didn’t comment on it.

“I will tie a blue ribbon around Ruby’s neck to match, and I think you have some sapphires as well.” She brought over a tray of jewelry for you to peruse while she laced up your gown.

Your mind drifted to an interesting place. You imagined you were preparing for dinner with Din and imagined your knight picking out jewels for you to wear.

Would he prefer diamonds? Would he like me better in opals or emeralds?

You had a feeling he wouldn’t mind either way, but it was lovely to pretend even for a moment. She placed a dark blue cloak about your shoulders and stood back.

“You look beautiful Princess, the blue looks lovely against your skin.” She held up a silvered looking glass and you saw the reflection of a happy woman, although why she was happy - no one could know.

“Thank you sweetling, let's get this night over with shall we?” You smiled at her as you both made your way outside.

---

Din, along with five of his best knights, waited for her to set out for Damerons home. Damerons own household guard waited as well, having been sent to accompany her and he surveyed them. They seemed competent enough, he gave them their space nonetheless.

It was getting more and more difficult to put the future out of his mind - he knew that the Princess would marry at some point, it was her duty as Queen. She might even marry Poe - he knew that objectively they were a good match but his mind simply couldn’t stay objective. Not when it came to her.

This whole thing was moving faster than he hoped and he didn’t know what he could do about it.

You have to face facts Djarin, you’ll never marry her. You are a knight, she is a Princess, there is no place for you. Maybe you should just let her go.

It was in him to do so, to ignore his feelings for her; to find Gisela and ask her to marry him - have a couple of little ones and pray for things to work out. The harsh words to get her to hate him on the tip of his tongue but they evaporated like dew on a sunny day when he saw her come out to meet him.

She was a gem- a bright, glittering thing that he wanted so desperately to hold onto.

“I am ready Sir, shall we?” She smiled shyly and he nodded.

“Of course Princess, allow me.” He guided her into the wheelhouse, dreading and cherishing every single second.

--

The ride was uneventful, the road was quiet thankfully with nothing to see but long swathes of trees and greenery in the gloaming of the evening.

Ruby was napping softly in your lap but woke quickly when you arrived, her little tail wagging happily at the prospect of exploring.

“Yes my little darling - we are here.” She was in Mila’s arms when you pet her, the two of you waiting for the wheelhouse to come to a stop.

Din opened the door for you, he was helping you climb down when you heard Poe’s voice sounding out.

“Princess, I am so pleased you agreed to come-” He was striding over, his squire on his heels. “-I am happy to see you all. Please - be welcome.” He was smiling big at everyone as his guards retreated, no doubt returning to their posts. He crouched quickly to pet Ruby before approaching you.

“Hello Poe, I thank you for your invitation.” You smiled as you took in your surroundings. His home was a beautiful sprawling estate. He must have been wealthier than you thought. “You must give me a tour of the grounds - I would love to see the gardens.” You smiled at him as he offered you his arm.

“Of course Princess, I will show you whatever you wish after our meal - unless you’d like to go now?” He paused for a moment.

“After dinner would be just fine.” You answered as he guided all of you inside.

--

You weren’t sure what to expect about his home when the letter had come in earlier but it was a pleasant surprise. There were fresh cut flowers everywhere, painstakingly detailed tapestries hung up on the walls as you made your way to the large dining room. Lush carpets and plush chairs, truly a man who enjoyed his comforts.

“You have a lovely home Poe.” You smiled as he led you to your seat.

“I thank you Princess -“ He turned to Din and the other Mandalorians waiting by the table. “-Please, sit with us. I meant what I said, you are all welcome at my table.” He gestured to them to sit.

“I do not wish to intrude, we would be happy to eat with the rest of your household guard.” Din replied, his voice was clipped however.

“Nonsense. I insist, I dare say the Princess would be more comfortable if you were to join us.” He said it with an easy smile and Din hesitated slightly before agreeing. They all sat, lining their helmets up before them.

Din barely spoke.

He had never been one for long speeches - you were unsure whether it was because of the helmet, or just his nature. The other Mandalorians were friendlier and Poe took it all in stride. You could see that he took nothing personal and treated them just as he treated you.

Aside from Din’s cool demeanor and Poe’s etiquette, the dinner went well. The food was wonderful and you didn’t fail to notice some of your favourites on the menu.

“I took the liberty of finding out what you like to eat.” He said it quietly, not wanting to draw attention and you favoured him with a smile. It was hard not to like him, he was very thoughtful.

Once the meal was done, he fulfilled his promise and escorted you outside. It was much more open than the gardens back home - everything illuminated by torches and lanterns. There were flowers and neatly pruned shrubbery surrounding the large building. You noticed a stable on one side, as well a modest greenhouse on the other.

“It’s nothing compared to what you’re used to but I enjoy it. The kennels are just behind the stables and there are flowers and different fruit trees just to the right there - that’s where they get the most sun. I’m afraid the night doesn’t do it justice, it’s much lovelier during the day.” He was walking you through the grounds, your arm tucked under his as your party followed.

“It’s lovely, truly.” You were sincere and you couldn’t help but look up, the sky awash in stars. “I would imagine you must spend a lot of time out here.” You let him guide the way.

“Not as often as I'd like to, but I try. Perhaps when we marry I’ll make more of an effort.” He said it with a wink and you scoffed loudly but without malice.

“Oh is that so? Well then I suppose I’ll have to change some things around since in your mind I’ll live here hm?” Your tone was playful but sarcastic and you were acutely aware of Din following the two of you.

“Oh yes Princess, I am quite sure. My home is yours and you may do with it what you will. I live only to make you happy.” He was just as playful and as annoyed as you were that he was so confident in your union, it was also aggravatingly refreshing to be able to speak to someone so honestly - better yet for them to respond in kind.

You ignored it, Poe was charming, that’s all.

Much to your annoyance, the night was enjoyable. Poe was an excellent host and it was later than you had originally planned when you set off for home. The woods were pitch black in some spots, it made you anxious to ride in the wheelhouse while the world outside seemed like it didn’t exist. The soft light of the moon doing nothing to pierce through the darkness of the road at times.

Reaching the palace had been a relief and you said as much when you stepped out.

“You should have told me Princess, I would have ridden in it with you - if it would have helped.” He spoke as he guided you inside. You had wanted to, but the temptation of having him so close would have been too much - and as much as Mila knew about your feelings towards him - you didn’t want her to see you kissing him.

You patted his arm in silent thanks and he said nothing else.

When you reached your room you hesitated at the door, wanting him to pull you away somewhere but he didn’t - instead he waited until Mila got in. He took his helmet off and you smiled at the state of his hair. Your fingers itched to ruffle through it.

“Princess, if it’s not too late, I would ask you to join me for a midnight ride.” He waited for your answer and your smile widened.

“Of course! Would you permit me to change quickly?” You didn’t want to ride in such a stuffy gown - as beautiful as it was.

“I will wait however long it takes.” He motioned for you to go and you did - urging Mila to help you once you reached your bedchamber.

“The soft linen dress I think - with the long shift and the heavy cloak. I want to be comfortable and warm.” You changed as fast as humanly possible - all but ripping the jewelry off and within a few minutes you were rushing out the door. The two of you making your way towards the stables as silently as possible.

You watched him work deftly, his skilled hands saddling his horse with ease. One horse, not two.

“Are we to ride together?” You looked at him confused.

“Is this a problem for you Princess? I thought it might be quicker to get us to safety should something happen if we were on the same horse. I could saddle you your own if you prefer - we just wouldn’t travel too far.” He hesitated momentarily and your heart leapt at the thought that he would be holding you so closely.

“I trust your judgment Sir, one horse it is.” You kept your voice neutral and he nodded, finishing his work quickly. Once he was done - he helped you up and pulled himself up behind you. The cool beskar pressed up against your back as his arms reached around you to grab the reins.

Your dress pooled up around your thighs slightly, but your legs were covered by your big cloak but it was exciting nonetheless. You felt exposed, with his proximity it excited you way more than it should have. It felt forbidden, taboo and thrilling to have it feel like he was holding you. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning back into his body slightly but he didn’t complain.

The ride through the forest was quiet except for the sound of the night birds, the crickets and the creatures that prowled at this time. The sound of the horses' steps, the sound of its breathing mixing with yours as well as Din’s. He rode through trees, through the little paths only he seemed to know and after a while you were beside a lake. The soft sound of the water kissing the shore added to the nightsong and you were happy that he had brought you here. He had been silent the whole ride, but you felt him take his helmet off behind you and secure it somehow to the saddle.

“You should know that you looked exceptionally lovely today Princess, blue is your colour.” His breath tickled your neck and you shivered. You turned slightly to look back but you couldn’t fully face him, the angle awkward but he kissed you just under your ear to let you know it was okay.

“I thank you Sir, I hoped you would like it.” You leaned back into his arms to tuck your head under his chin.

“You wore that for me? I thought you wore it for Dameron.” His hands came up to hold onto your arms as he pressed little kisses to your neck.

“I always dress for you.” You left it at that, hoping he would understand that despite everything- he was the one you wanted.

“Can I confess something?” His hand came up to slowly undo the cloak tied at your throat.

“Yes, anything.” You answered almost breathlessly, watching his hands open up the cloak to expose your shoulders, the skin of your thighs poking out where the dress had bunched up even more.

“You might think me wicked but, I thought about what it would be like to kiss you.” His hand trailed down as he spoke, rubbing at your thighs over your dress and you watched them in the low light of the moon, mesmerized.

“You’ve kissed me before Sir, you could kiss me now.” You turned a little more but he stopped you.

“I wasn’t thinking about kissing your mouth lovely girl, I was thinking about kissing you somewhere else.” His hands slowly gathered the fabric of your dress, bunching it in his fist - lifting it inch by inch to bare your legs to him. “May I show you where I want to kiss you?” He stopped but you clung onto his arms around you.

“Yes - please show me.” You felt is other hand join the fray and soon he had exposed your lower half to the cool night air. Your undergarments were damp you knew it - the arousal pooling low in your belly at the thought that he might touch you where you most wanted him to. He didn’t disappoint.

His hand trailed up your inner thigh lightly, slowly, up until he skillfully slid it into your undergarments. He groaned deep in his chest when he touched your bare sex.

“Right here. I long to kiss you, taste you here.” His touch was feather light on the lips of your womanhood, slipping along the seam of you. You whimpered, no one had ever touched you here and you felt the slick dripping out of you as you let him explore. “Would you let me Princess? Would you let me bury my tongue right here?” He dipped his fingers low, parting you slightly to dip his fingers just at the entrance - collecting your arousal onto his fingers before slipping them out and bringing them to his mouth behind you. You moaned at the sound of him sucking you off of them and you nodded frantically.

“Yes Din, I would let you - I’m yours.” You moaned the words and his other hand held you in place.

“And I am yours.” He responded before bringing his hand back to where you craved it, this time he spread the lips of your cunt open wide, honing his middle finger on the pearl of your sex. He rubbed tight, slow circles around it and you moaned - trying desperately to open your legs wider. He chuckled darkly behind you.

“Does that feel good Princess?” He turned your face with his other hand, twisting his upper body enough to capture your mouth in a messy kiss, not quite aligned but it sent a shiver of arousal through you and you felt yourself climbing higher and higher- his finger relentless as he sped up a little.

“Yes - Gods yes - it feels so good Din, I thought about you too.” You moaned the words into his mouth. “I think about you touching me like this, when I do it to myself.” He groaned at your confession, his tongue thick in your mouth when he kissed you again.

His finger dipped low to collect more wetness and the glide of it was just right, just slippery enough to send you over the edge and you almost screamed. Your body seizing up with pleasure as your sex clenched around nothing. He cooed into your ear as you rode it out.

“You are intoxicating my lovely one.” He kissed your neck, as he lowered your skirts.

You watched him, blissed out and boneless as he licked his fingers before grabbing the reins again and slowly making his way back to the palace.

-

Mila was snoring softly when you slipped into the room and you were careful not to wake her and as tired as you were from travel it took you a long time to fall asleep. Your heart full of love for Din and a hunger you couldn’t satiate filled your belly. It was a craving for his body, for his kisses, for physical love a woman shared with her husband. You fell asleep hoping - though secretly knowing- that he craved you the same way.

—-

As happy as you were when you awoke the next morning, it was quickly dampened - your father informed you that Poe was to arrive at the Palace as his honoured guest. That he was to stay for a time as a gesture of good will.

You saw right through it.

Your parents had decided that Poe was the suitor they wanted for you and they weren’t being at all subtle.

They informed you with big smiles on their faces, no doubt in hopes of pushing you towards him. It was exhausting - this constant reminder that you would never be truly free to live the life you wanted with Din.

When Poe arrived, he was happy - taking this as a sign that he was winning you over.

“Greetings Princess, I cannot tell you how happy I am to be able to spend more time with you.” He was all smiles and you had no choice but to smile back.

“It will be interesting for sure.” With the way you felt about Din, the intense desire to be around him was at the forefront of your mind. As well as the way Din behaved around Poe, it would definitely be interesting to say the least.

—

Your father invited Poe to dine at your private table, and he engaged him in conversation almost the whole night. They spoke of the future, of how Poe would help rule if he were indeed to marry you. Your mother smiled silently, happy to let the conversation center around the two of you.

Din stood still behind your fathers chair and you wanted nothing more than to pull him to sit with you. To talk to him, kiss him and feed him from your own plate.

“I would want to help people to be quite honest, extend a hand to those that aren’t as fortunate as us. There are people out there starving and that doesn’t sit right with me.” He was honest, to a fault like he said but you admired that.

“That’s very noble of you my boy.” The king nodded.

“It’s very honourable isn’t it my darling?” Your mother smiled at you and you smiled back, nodding around a bite of your food.

“I’m sure the Princess and I could do much and more to help the people who need it the most, if she would let me that is.” He had a shy, genuine smile for you, tentatively reaching over and taking your hand in his. You couldn’t very well snatch it back but you felt Din’s eyes burning into the interaction.

This could get messy.

“Princess, I would humbly ask that you accompany me for a walk through the grounds - chaperoned by your knight of course.” He asked as the remnants of the meal were taken away.

“Oh I’m sure she’d love to join you wouldn’t you sweetling?” Your mother cooed, and you smiled and nodded.

“Yes of course.” You let him guide you, Din following closely behind.

—

“I hope I’m not intruding - I know that the King and Queen are very keen for this to work between us.” He held your hand as you walked arm in arm and you couldn’t help but sigh softly.

“Yes they are aren’t they.” Your tone came out a little more exasperated than you’d hoped but he was well aware that you were not to be swayed by him so easily, you knew he should expect some hesitancy from you.

“I understand that you aren’t impressed and that I am most likely not your first choice. For all I know you might already have your eye on someone else.” He laughed and you couldn’t help but look over your shoulder at Din. “Regardless of that Princess, I know this must be difficult for you but I beg of you to give me a chance to show you that there is potential here. I believe that in time you might come to love me.” He pulled your hand up to his mouth and kissed your fingers.

“You are selling yourself quite hard Poe, I appreciate that you understand that my feelings for you aren’t where you want them to be.” You looked up at him apologetically, expecting him to have a sad look on his face but he surprised you; he was smiling - content to listen to you speak.

“I know, it’s not in you right now but I believe you will see me in a different light. I have faith.” He left the conversation there.

——

It was hard to find time to meet with Din, Poe seemed to be everywhere and his determination seemingly had no bounds.

Your mother found you as you dressed for the day - she had a note from Poe. He was asking you to accompany him into town to hand out some supplies. You couldn’t refuse him, not when your mother had delivered it herself.

“Will Din accompany us?” You asked it offhand, your voice neutral - your face a mask of nonchalance.

“No your father is going on a hunt and Din will be protecting him, there will be other guards with you.” She said it with a shake of her hand as she searched your wardrobe for an appropriate dress. “This will do nicely.” She picked out an off the shoulder, deep berry coloured dress that was not at all practical for a day out in the city.

It would have to do.

-

He had taken you to an orphanage in the heart of the city. There were kids running around of all ages and the older ones ran towards Poe when you entered - recognizing him. He had a big smile on his face as they hugged him around the middle, all decorum forgotten.

“Poe did you bring us anything?” A boy of about twelve years was eager, looking around you to the entourage of guards waiting behind you.

“Of course, brought all of you some good stuff like I always do.” He ruffled the boys hair before he held his hand out to you, you smiled and stepped forward. “I have someone very special here with me today, this is the Princess. Come on over and say hello.” He called them over to you and you saw some of the little girls eyes light up. They flocked to you, asking you if you were indeed the Princess. Asked you if you had a crown, and most importantly why you were there. They were precious.

“She’s here to help just like I am.” Poe answered for you.

A little girl of about six pulled on your dress and you lowered yourself slightly to be at her level.

“Princess, I like your dress, you’re so pretty.” She was smiling at you, her hair was a tangle but her eyes were bright.

“Thank you sweetling, you are much prettier I must say.” You moved the hair out of her eyes and she smiled wide, her little hand clutching at a makeshift cloth doll.

You helped Poe hand out toys and new clothes and there was food for them to eat. You spent the day playing with them and learning about their lives. The women who ran the orphanage knew him and you saw that all of the talk of helping the less fortunate was real, he had already been doing much more than you had ever even imagined.

It was hard to deny the little spark of something that he held within you.

He was handsome, he was kind and smart- funny and generous and with the way his eyes found yours throughout the day; he felt something for you. His eyes were piercing, dark and mysterious and for the first time, he gave you butterflies.

One of the little ones was showing you his space within the building, his bed and his tiny toy horse. He was waxing poetic about how one day he would be a knight. You were smiling at him when Poe stood next to you, his gaze heavy and it sent a flush crawling up your neck to light up your ears.

The fabric at his neck was crumpled and you couldn’t help but reach up to fix it, your arm extended over to him and his gaze focused on it, reached up to hold it to his neck. He placed a delicate kiss to your bicep and pulled you closer. The act was small, but so intimate it did something to you. Melted a tiny piece of you that up until now was frozen to him and he saw it on your face. Felt it in the way you let him hold you close, your arm still around his neck, his hand moving down to hold onto your waist.

The little boy was in front of you now, asking Poe if he would ever give him a real horse and he laughed, not unkindly.

“One day my boy, one day I will give you a horse - only if you promise to behave and be on your best behaviour. Can you do that?” The little boy nodded sagely promising he would. You didn’t pull your arm away, and you couldn’t pinpoint why.

—-

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[havin-a-wee]

Doctor's Orders

pairing: gynecologist!harry x reader/doctor!harry x reader

word count: 2.3k+

warnings: smut, fingering

this is so long overdue i apologize but this is a request! i kinda love this piece so i hope you guys do too!

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY

You sucked in a harsh breath as you heard your name being called from the front desk, the smiley old lady gesturing for you to follow her. You timidly walked behind her, your feet shuffling on the obnoxiously patterned carpet that lined the hallways.

You aren’t one to fear doctor’s appointments, in fact, you have never been apprehensive about going to one until right now. This appointment was something you’ve been avoiding for a while since you had moved to London, but there came a point where you couldn’t put it off for any longer. Back in the states, you were comfortable with your gynecologist, and you had no issue talking to her about problems you were having regarding your genitalia. But now that you were in a new city, you didn’t have the comfort that came with visiting a long-term doctor and faced new ones for the first time since you were a child. The rest of the doctor’s visits were pretty standard, but your private parts were something you struggled with understanding, Sure, you have seen porn and had sex, but it was never a fulfilling experience. In fact, you have never reached an orgasm. About a year ago you gave up on looking for men to help you and made it a mission to bring yourself to a climax. But alas, none of your efforts seemed to work. At this point, you were convinced that something was wrong with you, hence the gynecologist visit. Male gynecologist, that is.

Over the past month, you have spent a lot of time researching gynecologists in your area. The first one that came up was the one you are at now, but considering his gender you continued your hunt. But it kept leading you back to this one doctor, Dr. Styles, and that was why you are currently sitting in an exam room in his office.

You reassured yourself by looking up his name on your smartphone, scrolling through the 5-star reviews. The number of people who seemed to absolutely love this guy helped settle your nerves, so you read through them as you waited for a knock on the door.

That knock finally arrived a few minutes later, and you picked your head up and looked at the wooden door. “Come in!”

A head popped inside from behind the door as it was pushed open, and the doctor’s eyes found yours while he made his way into the small room. He’s tall, with a mop of chocolate brown curls on his head and bright green eyes accompanied by a friendly smile. He sat down, eyes never leaving yours until he placed his computer down and the screen lit up.

“‘Ello Darlin, m’Dr. Styles, but y’can call me Harry if you’d like.” He stuck out a hand, and your palm swiftly met his, the two of you looking at one another as you shook hands. His hands were enormous, and the rings placed on his fingers were cold to the touch. “Considering you’re a new patient, I took a peek at y’records and such, and I saw that y’ve always had a female gyno.”

You nodded your head slowly, opening your mouth to respond but getting cut off by Dr. Styles. “So I just wanted t’let y’know tha’ theres nothing t’be ashamed off, and I know what I’m doin’ so I promise you’re in expert hands.”

“Yeah, I was nervous, but I couldn’t ignore the amazing reviews people have given you, so I made an appointment.” You appreciated his reassurance a lot, and it really helped in the easing of your jitters. He turned back to his computer after nodding in response to you, clicking on a few keys before diverting his attention back to you.

“So what seems t’be the problem today Y/N?” An initial wave of shock hit you when he said your name, but it quickly dissolved when you remembered that he literally has access to all your medical information, so of course, he knows your name.

“This is a bit of an odd thing to come in for on my first appointment with you, but I think my vagina doesn’t work.” You let out a breathy chuckle at your own words. Dr. Styles seemed unphased by your forwardness, and you assumed he had heard a lot more abrasive things than that. “I’m a 22-year-old woman, but I’ve never had an orgasm. For the past year I’ve been focusing on doing it without a partner, but no matter how much time I spent or how many fancy toys I buy, I just end up feeling unsatisfied and disappointed.” He nodded along as you explained your issue, placing his chin in his hand while his elbow was placed on the desk.

“Have y’had any STD tests recently?”

“Yes, I had one last week, I’m clean and I’ve never had one in the past.”

“Is there any possibility tha’ you’re pregnant?”

“No, I haven’t slept with anyone in over a year.” You knew what questions he would ask, so to avoid wasting time you were giving him all the information he would need.

“When y’are sleeping with someone, do y’feel any sort of pleasure?”

“Yeah, but it’s just never enough, I guess.” His lips curled into an expression of concentration, and he pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. The room was silent for all of around 30 seconds, but soon enough Dr. Styles spoke up.

“Based on yeh’ history and what y’telling me, it seems that y’just haven’t found the right bloke.” Your eyebrows lifted in surprise at his simple answer. It couldn’t be that simple, could it? “M’guessing y’can’t get y’self off cause’ y’tense and not fully relaxed. And the guys y’ve been with ave’all been doin’ a rubbish job.” He chuckled along with you, and you couldn’t help but agree with him. There was no one you could think of that had actually made you feel good the entire time and had actually focused on your pleasure and theirs. Most of the hookups you took part in were with frat boys who would stick their dick into anything with a hole. “But just in case, lemme’ check y’out just to make sure.”

He stood up from his chair and you swung your legs up on the cot, laying down on it. While you had waited for the doctor, you changed into the gown you were provided with, so there was only a thin piece of fabric between you and the curly-headed man that had taken a seat at the end of the seat.

It was now that you were faced with a dilemma that your anxious brain hadn’t even thought of prior to the appointment.

Dr. Styles was attractive. Like, really, really attractive.

Dr. Styles was attractive. Like, really, really attractive. And probably because of the nature of your discussion (and the fact that your body is severely desperate for sexual release), your core had been heating up since he first stepped into the room. So now, he would lift the skirt of the gown and see a pool of velvety wetness coating the inside of your thighs.

The back of the seat was propped up, allowing you to see him. This was a good thing for him because he could talk to you while he does his job, but it means you will have to look at him after he sees the mess you’ve made.

“May I?” His fingers gripped onto the edges of the gown, and you swallowed hoarsely before nodding your approval. While you know that he probably has witnessed much more embarrassing situations than the one you were in right now, it didn’t make the predicament any better. As you suspected, he kept a straight face when he lifted the flimsy material from your legs. Without taking a second glance, he turned to a bottle on his desk and pumped a dollop of lube onto his glove-clad fingertips. He used his other gloved hand to spread the lubricant, only turning back to you when his two fingers were both well coated in the substance. “Y’alright?” Once again, you nodded at his question. “Tell me with words darlin’, wanna make sure y’comfortable.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What kind of exam are you doing exactly?” That question popped into your mind right before it rolled off your tongue because you noticed he had never specified exactly what he was looking for.

“M’just gonna use m’finger,” he held his lube-covered fingers, “and feel around, just t’make sure everythins’ fine.”

“Ok, sounds good.”

“M’gonna start now, s’gonna be cold at first.”

You hissed when his fingers met your sopping hole, and you had to resist the urge to kick your legs while he slowly pushed his fingers inside of you. The feeling was strange, but definitely not unwelcome. The contrast from his icy fingers to your warm center was sending a tingling sensation down your spine. You could feel his fingers push around inside of you, caressing your walls. And you know you shouldn’t. But his fingers were hitting all the right nerves, and you couldn’t help but find the experience immensely pleasurable.

Despite your best efforts, a small moan of satisfaction escaped your lips. Immediately, you went stiff, and you could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. You just moaned while your doctor had his fingers inside you. For a moment you thought he would ignore the sexual noise that you had just made. But he suddenly looked up at you, his eyes previously locked on his fingers.

“Well, if y’moanin’ just from that, y’more sexually deprived than I thought.” He chuckled, and you cracked a small smile, but that was before his words actually hit you.

Was he, hitting on you?

Maybe not flirting, but that definitely wasn’t something that doctors say to their patients very often. His smirk was also giving you the idea that he had certain intentions.

“Everything seem good down’ere, so I think tha’ problem is with the guys y’gettin with, not you. What type of people do y’usually sleep with.”

“When I was sexually active, it was usually frat boys, so I guess I should’ve known I wasn’t the problem.” You let out a small laugh, Dr. Styles seems to have found it much more amusing, as his chuckle came from deep within his chest. A small movement came with the laugh, which also reminded you that his fingers were still very much inside of you.

“It seems y’need someone who knows his way around,” he cleared his throat, and you smiled as you realized what he was hinting at. “and y’my last paitent of the day, so m’more than happy t’help y’out.” He looked down at his feet shyly, and you found it adorable how he was nervous about what he was proposing. But you were on the verge of tears from how hard it was to hold back your physical response to his touches. Your body relaxed when the words came out of his mouth, and you let out the whine that had been building up in your throat.

“Yes-Harry, god yes.” It was the first time you were using his first name, but the smirk on his face showed his approval.

He quickly removed his fingers from your heat, and you whined again, this time in frustration. Losing contact left you feeling cold, but that feeling only lasted a fleeting moment, as soon as he was pushing his fingers into you again, this time bare.

“Y’already so wet love, what got y’this worked up hmm?”

“Y-you, Harry, I want you.” You tripped over your words, but they came out clear enough for him to understand because he began moving his fingers at the encouragement. His fingers began to pump in and out of you, and you knew he must have been right about not being with the right guys before, because the simple movements left you as putty in his hands. You barely got any pleasure from fingering in your other sexual encounters, but you were already a moaning mess underneath the man. He lifted his other hand, which had also had the glove on it removed, and placed the pad of his finger on your puffy clit. You mewled loudly and his smirk widened.

“Any o’those boys ever make y’feel this good darlin’?” You shook your head furiously, and he smiled, rubbing circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves. You were already seeing stars, and you could feel an unfamiliar knot forming in your stomach. “Y’so pretty, did y’know tha’?”

You couldn’t muster up enough strength to respond to his second question, but the loud moan that you let out was enough of an answer for him. His movements sped up, fingers pumping in and out of you and his other thumb pressing circles on your button.

“Harry-”

“Think y’close darlin’? Ready t’come fo’ the first time?”

“Yes, yes..” Your voice trailed off when a guttural moan rumbled through your throat. Although you haven’t had one before, you were sure that he was about to bring you to an orgasm. There was a tight feeling in your stomach and you knew it was just about to burst.

“Fuck-”

The knot burst and your orgasm rolled through your body, reaching every nerve inside of you. The feeling was euphoric, and your senses were heightened as your body experienced this new feeling.

“Thas’ it, good girl,” he cooed, slowing his movements and removing his fingers from your now overly sensitive clit. He worked you through your orgasm until fully removing his fingers from you, and you let out a sigh as he did so. “Definitely not somethin’ wrong with ya’, I can tell y’that.”

He smiled up at you and you returned the gesture, your smile only faltering when he turned away to write something down. You took the opportunity to get up and change, quickly dressing while his back was turned.

He turned in his chair to face you once again, handing you a small piece of paper. You took it from between his fingers to see a phone number scribbled on it in black ink.

“Is Doctor Styles giving me his number?” You said it in a cheeky way, smirking back at him.

“Yes, and he’s telling you to text him when you get home. Doctor’s orders.”