#mine was just knit and felted

[pegasusdrawnchariots]

the eternal question: is scheduling w friends as an adult That Hard or am I just bad at it

[moonchildstyles]

pomegranate

pomegrante part one: harry and y/n are roommates and she doesn't want him to feel lonely

wordcount: 14.2k+

—————

Harry's brows knitted together as he lifted his eyes from the avocado he was slicing, eyes flitting to the television from where he stood at his kitchen island. Truthfully, he didn't know why he kept watching this show when he never agreed with any of the contestants' decisions. More often than not, he came away frustrated when he watched these singles fumble budding relationships in favor of the near-mythical 'something better' they were convinced was out there. He couldn't understand why they prioritized sex with someone they didn't even know existed yet over someone right in front of them, that was more than enough. 

Shaking his head when he saw another shirtless, spray-tanned man with a head of permed curls on the top of his head pull a beautiful girl to the side for a "chat",  Harry directed his attention back to the strokes of the knife under his hand. His sushi bake would be out of the oven soon and he needed to get all of his fix-ins in order before the timer ran out. 

Just as he stowed away his slices of avocado and started on the edamame pods he planned on salting and marinating, the humming of the garage door rolling up rumbled through the house. A slight smile touched at his cheeks, already anticipating the clicking of heels he would no doubt hear before the door leading from the garage to the kitchen would be swung open with a huff. 

(Y/N) had been on a date tonight, and there was no way it had gone well if she was already home. Only an hour away didn't make for a particularly fun night. 

As expected, only moments after the garage had been closed and he heard the slam of her car door, (Y/N) trudged in from the extension with a tired expression on her face. 

"Hey, H," she sighed, already bending over to take her shoes off despite barely making it onto the tile of the kitchen floor.

"Hi, (Y/N)," he greeted, turning around with his avocado slices left behind, "Bad night?" 

He didn't have to see her face to know she was rolling her eyes. 

"The worst." She stood up to her full height—sans high heels, of course—with a flick of her hair. "I should've just stayed home with you. I wouldn't have been bored to near tears with you." 

For a second, Harry felt his heart sitting in his throat. Did she have any idea what it did to him when she talked like that—joked like that? Years into this friendship with no shortage of her sweetened comments, he doubted she did. He just hoped that she didn't notice his cheeks reddening and the way his hands suddenly didn't know what to do. 

"'M sorry," he murmured, "Was he nice at least?" 

(Y/N) shrugged, the silk straps of her top shifting over her smooth shoulders. "Nice enough—he just likes talking about himself, I think." 

Harry's lips thinned at her comment. He couldn't imagine being anything but the best listener for (Y/N); who wouldn't want to hear everything that was going on in her head and the piles of stories, however mundane, she could share? 

"Well, unless you're too tired, we could watch our show? Dinner will be ready soon if y'were still hungry." 

It was the way she seemingly inflated, light in her eyes with her hands brought to her chest all to match the bubbly smile on her lips, that had his heart springing in his chest. 

"You'd share your dinner with me?" 

You can have everything of mine, as long as you keep looking at me like that.

A mild smile curled his lips in hopes of concealing everything bubbling underneath his skin. "Of course. 'S a salmon sushi bake, if that sounds any good to you." 

"That sounds so good, H. You're the best, thank you." 

Her smile was dazzling when she turned it on him. Thank god he had set his knife down, or he would have lost a couple of fingers at this point. 

This time, he couldn't shake the smile that bloomed over his lips, however sheepish it was. "Of course—um, thank you." 

A peal of laughter left her lips as she traipsed out of the kitchen, heels in hand. "You're so sweet. I'm gonna change, but I'll be right back!" 

As if in a swirl of cherry blossoms and white lace, (Y/N) was gone. Along with her went the sparks that flooded his bloodstream and tremors in his fingers. 

God, he'd have thought knowing her since university days he would be used to her at this point. It was as if becoming roommates those couple of months ago did the opposite of acclimating him to her presence. He wasn't sure there was anything about her—the way she looked, the way she acted, the way she talked—that didn't hold even a bit of magic in his eyes. 

The sound of the oven timer going off brought Harry back to real life. Now that he was planning on sharing this dinner with (Y/N), he wanted to ensure everything was perfect. One of his favorite things about living with her was being able to take care of her through simple things like cooking dinner or making coffee in the morning. Every night she went out on a date or took a night off to go out for a girls night, he was there to get the rundown of her time away and feed her toast and water to lessen the blow of the morning hangover as much as he could. He was there for any and everything—even if he wasn't necessarily in the mood to hear about her feelings for another. He would rather be on her side even if she was on someone else's arm, than not be there at all. 

All while (Y/N) was readying herself for a night in with Harry, he was focusing on his knife strokes and mixing the different sauces to be drizzled over the bake. By the time she emerged with a set of pajamas on and her hair twisted out of her face, Harry had crafted the perfect dinner to be shared over an episode of their tropic reality dating show. 

He didn't wait for her before he was putting together her plate, dressed the way he knew she liked, sheets of nori off to the side along with a pair of chopsticks he taught her how to use years ago. 

"There's extra in the kitchen if y'want more," he murmured as he passed the plate to her hands, taking the spot on the couch at her side. 

"This looks so good, H," she beamed, looking at him with something he liked to think of as affection in her eyes, "Thank you again, really. You're already making my night so much better." 

"Good," he swallowed, dropping his eyes to the tip of her nose, "'M glad I could—um—make y'happy."

He could have cringed at the sound of his fumbling words, but that was only cut off when (Y/N) shot him a beaming smile and gave him a hug in the form of wrapping her arm around his own and resting her head on his shoulder for a lingering moment. 

"Wait! Wasn't he paired with Amber an episode ago?"

(Y/N)'s bubbled outrage was the perfect cover to the way his heart had landed in his throat. This way, he could concentrate on anything but himself and the reactions he was having over someone who was supposed to be just his friend.

"Yeah," Harry murmured, wrapping a bite of crispy rice and marinated salmon on a sheet of nori, "He pulled Lissa over for a chat at the start of this one." 

"Of course, he did," (Y/N) grumbled. 

While he would never wish anything but pure joy on her, Harry couldn't help the way his own happiness sprouted in his chest. He would never pass on a night like this.

—————

"Can I lay on you?" 

Harry blinked back to earth at the sound of (Y/N)'s voice over the familiar episode of a long ended reality show they'd already watched hundreds of times. Looking to her end of the couch, she was already slouched into the corner cushion, eyes heavy and hair tucked not a mess away from her face. 

He didn't think before he nodded his head, uncurling his legs to allow her space to lay her head. She murmured her gratitude in a sleepy voice as she stretched across the cushions to rest her head on his thighs. 

It was a familiar move, something that (Y/N) had done many times even prior to their roommate situation coming to fruition. She'd spilled to him more than once that she was a cuddly person—touchy-feely, was the way she put it—taking and loving all of the physical affection she was able to collect. Including from Harry, who always seemed to take the whole thing entirely too seriously. It was cute, she'd said, cute enough she couldn't help but to laugh. 

Tonight, she was already heavy-eyed and loose-limbed by the time she settled against his legs. Her hands were tucked under her cheek, a small barrier between his thigh and her cheek though he could still feel every ray of her warmth no matter what. 

He did his absolute best to stay relaxed despite the instinct to straighten his spine and tense his muscles at the affectionate way she laid over him. He wanted to be the best pillow he could be for her, and that wouldn't be possible if he resembled a wooden plank more than a fluffed case of feathers. 

Harry's win came in the form of a languid sigh that left her lips, (Y/N) practically going boneless against him. 

"You're the best, H," she murmured, just barely audible over the club music sounding from the television. "Thank you." 

Swallowing, he allowed his eyes to glaze over her form without her own watchful gaze on him. Hearing those words attached to that mouth from this gorgeous girl, was going to make him burst. 

"You're welcome," he whispered, urging his eyes to move on from the sliver of her midriff on display from the ruched hem of her top. 

As expected, a breathy laugh came from (Y/N). "You can touch me, you know," she said, twisting just enough to look up at him through flared lashes, "You don't have to keep your hands up like that." 

He hadn't even realized he froze with his limbs hovering over her, resting away as if there were a barrier holding him back. "Oh," he sounded, blood burning behind his cheeks, "Sorry." 

Could he be any more pathetic? Embarrassment surged through his veins. Was there any other way he could make it that much more obvious just how nervous (Y/N) made him? 

In a set of cautious movements, his hands floated back down to her form. He gently settled his palm on the cuff of her shoulder while the other rested near her head, where strands of hair brushed the stretch of his fingers. 

"It's okay," she said, the smile evident in her voice despite Harry not seeing the curl, "You're so silly, H." 

It was the way her voice trailed off, taking on a deeper octave than before, that showed him just how close she was to finding the other side of her eyelids. He instinctively began running his thumb along the ball of her shoulder, a circuit that had him skimming her soft skin with the sleeve of her top pushed out of the way. 

There was something about seeing her skin being dented by his touch, a touch that wasn't particularly strong or even rough at all. She wondered if she was able to feel the whorls of his print, the creasing of his knuckle. It was an innocent enough feeling, his hand upon her arm, but he felt his heart beginning to thump. His throat was thick enough he felt his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. 

This was another facet that only took on a life of its own, the casual intimacy that had been sparked between them now that they shared a home. Laying her head on his shoulder in a passing hug, resting her head on his lap, practically asking him to put his hands on her as she was lulled to sleep. Logically, he was sure this was supposed to get easier as it went, the more it happened the magic was supposed to lessen. But, that just didn't happen.

His heart still thumped heavily. His stomach tightened and pitted and warmed. His...  well, other parts of him appreciate the touching too, even if he resented focusing on those parts of himself.

It felt more than wrong to acknowledge his baser interests in her, not when she was such a kind and loving friend to him. If that boundary between them was meant to be crossed, there were plenty of times both during their university days and the years that followed, that gave perfect opportunities for that line to be wiped away and crossed in favor of something new. Instead, they were still just friends—best friends, even. 

You're not supposed to get hard over your best friend. Not when she was doing nothing but falling asleep in his lap. Not when she was relaxing in her own home in comfortable pajamas—even if they were comprised of a soft t-shirt and pair of shorts just a touch too small that rolled up at the hem, giving more and more skin for his eyes to feast upon. Without a bra, of course. A fact evident in the way her nipples would peak against the material. 

No, he was not supposed to be hard over that. Not to mention the glaring fact that she spent nearly every weekend on a date with someone or going out with the express purpose of having fun and meeting other people. 

There was also, of course, the most prominent issue: he's a virgin. Even if he somehow managed to see more than just a friendship in him, he would have no idea how to take care of her. (Y/N) was someone who had experienced enough physical affection that she no doubt knew what she enjoyed and what she didn't; there was little to no appeal to teaching the one you're in bed with how to do the most basic of acts.

So he would keep his distance, even if the rest of his body refused to get on the same page. 

"Are you okay?" 

(Y/N)'s mumbled voice shook Harry from his thoughts. Blinking back to the real world, she was tipping her head up to look at him with sleepy eyes. 

"Hm?" he hummed, aware of the way his hand had gone still on her arm and his bones had grown stiff. 

"Do you want me to move or something?" she murmured, "So you can get comfortable? Sorry if I made your leg fall asleep." 

Harry's skin warmed to a flushing red. Of course, he would grow restless when she was on his mind. Taking stock of his body, at least he knew he wasn't that hard; any longer in his mind and he may have had a problem. 

"'S alright, 'm alright," he rushed out, "Jus' think 'm getting tired. Sorry." 

She smiled up at him, her hair haloing around her head in his lap. "It's okay," she laughed, "Do you want to go to bed? We can keep watching tomorrow instead." 

That was what he needed at the moment: distance. Some peace and quiet and a moment to get his head on straight. "Let's go to bed," he affirmed, mimicking her soft smile. 

Her movements were lethargic as she moved off of his lap. A curling stretch had her raising her arms above her head, the hem of her top lifting just enough to show a sliver of skin above the waistline of her shorts. Harry quickly retracted his eyes, settling his gaze to his feet instead. 

Turning to him, with eyes slightly hooded and limbs languid, (Y/N) gave him a smile. "Goodnight, H," she mumbled, "Thanks for making my night better."

Collecting him in her arms, Harry didn't have to think before he was reciprocating her hug. The scent of her perfume twisted around him, stray hairs tickling the tip of his nose. Her words echoed in his head. 

He made her night. She made his life. 

"Goodnight, (Y/N)," he crooned, melting into her hug for just a moment longer before unwrapping himself from her hold. "'M happy I could help." 

Her smile was sweet as she turned on her socked feet towards her bedroom. "See you in the morning." 

He watched as she pushed open her bedroom door, her eyes glanced over her shoulder at him. Her pretty, pretty eyes. 

"See you in the morning." 

With that, the night ended as she closed her bedroom door behind her. 

Though she stayed just where she was on Harry's mind. 

—————

Harry wiped his hands clean now that the sink was cleared of all dirty dishes. The clock on the stove detailed the time as eleven thirty-two, a half an hour longer than he meant to stay up tonight. But, he supposed that's what happened when he decided to take a nap instead of cleaning up the kitchen after dinner. 

Quiet voices sounded through the living room from the show running on the television though Harry didn't pay it any mind as he swept through the space. (Y/N) was out for a girls night, leaving it Harry's turn to take care of the common spaces to ensure neither of them would have to tidy anything in the morning. Plus, he didn't think it would be very nice of him to leave her stumbling over his pile of shoes when she came home after a night of drinking and crashing on a friend's couch. 

He could still see traces of her scattered about the space in the form of stray glitters from her outfit, a pair of loose hair ties left on the table by the door, right next to her usual handbag ransacked with only a few random items left in it from the essentials she pulled from it to take out on the town with her. He hoped she was having a fun night—she deserved it. 

After cleaning up and turning off the television and lights, Harry retired to his bedroom upstairs. Turning on some music through his headphones, he started on his nighttime routine. It was definitely less extensive than the one he'd seen (Y/N) do night after night, but there were a few serums and techniques he'd stolen from her—including the lavender room spray he was addicted to misting through his room before laying his head down. It turned his dreams decadently sweet, he thought. (Or it could be because he always fell asleep with (Y/N) on his mind, the lavender scent reminding him of her every night without fail).

But, this time, when he laid his head on his fluffed pillow, delicate music filtering through the space from his bluetooth speaker, Harry wasn't ready to go to bed. He had known the evening nap he took wasn't the smartest idea, leaving his limbs restless and eyes wide open. As soon as he knew (Y/N) was home safe in the morning, Harry planned on running all of the errands he'd pushed off this weekend, and a late wakeup time wasn't going to be the most productive move. 

There were only so many things he could think of doing to tire himself out. Scrolling on his phone was a no-go considering how he knew the blue-light would only urge him to stay awake, his book was too riveting to be a useful bedtime story, and going for a run this late wasn't the best option. He just needed to tire himself out. 

Fitting his bottom lip between his teeth, Harry figured there was another option. 

He wasn't quite in the mood at the moment, he could put himself there he figured. He doubted it would take much work, really. 

As if this were a laborious task, Harry kicked his comforter from his hips with a sigh. He reached for his phone on instinct, opening up a familiar application to help color his imagination. Without much ceremony, he pushed his sweats down just enough to fit his hand down his underwear. He would do this quickly, he decided; fast and hard, to put him to sleep sooner rather than later. 

It didn't take long to feel himself harden in his grasp, photos and videos of various couples wrapped around one another and those in solo situations fueling his head. His breathing grew heavy in his chest, mouth falling open as a particularly titillating video of a woman with her hands between her legs filled his screen. 

With the audio still playing, Harry's head fell back against the pillows. His eyes fell closed, a sigh leaving his lips. Pulling his hand from his length, he brought the appendage to his mouth before spitting against his palm. With his hand now slick, the wet pumps of his fist along his cock now filled the air. His toes curled in his sheets, free hand tightly gripping his phone. 

While it wasn't something he wanted to do, it was terribly easy to let his mind wander to the pretty girl that had left him home alone tonight. The fit of her dress had been hard enough to process when he was clear minded, now that was a nearly impossible task. 

The dress was new, a silky piece with embroidered flowers and thick straps cuffing her shoulders. It was tight along the bodice, cupping her breasts and curve of her waist before flaring out along her hips. The hem cut off at the mid of her thigh, leaving the length of her legs on display down to the comfortable shoes she chose for the night. (The high heels from the weekend prior had been shoved to the back of her closet for the time being, the blisters on her feet enough to have her avoiding them at the moment). 

It was a terrible, horrible, repulsive thought to have about his roommate, but Harry knew that all it would have taken was a bend of her hips and he would have seen the curve of her bottom. If he had been bold enough to look, he was sure he would have caught a glance down the bodice of her dress when she came to him to say goodbye for the night. 

His cock twitched at the reminder of her body pressed against him when she hugged him goodbye. If he was a different man and they were in a different situation, he would have grabbed her hips and held her close. He would have found the line of her panties through her dress, felt the curve of her bottom over the silk. 

He liked to imagine she would hold him back, that she would lean into the angles and muscles of his body. He could see her tipping her head, leaving him the room to drop his lips over the curve of her neck and shelf of her collarbone. 

He liked to imagine her wanting him back. That he would be able to satisfy her and take her expertly, tying her to him as he pushed his hand between her legs—or, god, his head—and brought her to the edge. What he wouldn't give to know what the melody of her voice sounded like when steeped in pleasure.

Harry pumped his hand that much harder along his length, the put of his stomach growing tight like the thick bands of muscles on his thighs. His breathing was harsh, wheezing out against his clenched teeth. 

"Fuck," he panted, hips bucking against his hand when he thought of what could have happened had he pushed (Y/N)'s dress up to her middle. Precum dribbled from his tip, streaking down to his shaft and mixing with the slick of his spit. 

He was going to cum, he could feel it. His muscles were bunched tight, eyes screwed shut with his own personal pornography projected against his eyelids. 

"Harry, are you awa—Oh! Oh my god, bye!" 

In a second, Harry snapped from the throes of pleasure just to see the tail-end of (Y/N)'s silken dress flashing out of his doorway. Behind her, his door slammed shut, cutting her words in half. 

She wasn't supposed to be home. She was supposed to be spending the night at Rue's house. What was she doing here? 

Oh, god—fuck—she's home. (Y/N) came home and saw him jerking himself off to the thought of her. Shit, fuck, shit.

His movements were fumbling and disjointed as he pulled his pants back up and attempted to wipe his hand of the evidence against a dirty t-shirt that should have been in his hamper. Jesus Christ, what the fuck was he thinking? He was so lost in his head, he didn't even hear the door open? Didn't hear her footsteps stomping up the stairs?

Was he supposed to talk to her? Or were they supposed to avoid each other until someone inevitably broke the lease and they never spoke to one another ever again? 

The latter option hurt his chest, but the former cast his body in a sweat. 

He sat on the edge of his bed, eyes trained on the floor beneath his feet. 

Why couldn't he have just gone to sleep? Why did he have to take that nap and leave him thinking he needed to tire himself out? Why did this have to happen?

Did she know he was thinking of her? He wasn't entirely mindful of his words, had he let out a call of her name? How long had she been home before she barged in?

Harry hung his head, shaking his head as he attempted to spool himself back in. If not for the fact that he was concerned about the fact she'd made her way home instead of staying with her friends, he's sure he would have spent the entire night hiding in his home. But, unfortunately, his heart still beat for her and he needed to know that she was okay, at the very least. 

Summoning the courage, Harry stood from his seat at the edge of her bed, his hands shaking before curling into fists. They were best friends—she'd seen him with his head hung over the toilet with chunks being hurled from his mouth, with greasy limp hair until he figured out the right products for his strands, the puffy-eyed, snot-nosed sobs he let out when he failed his first mid-term their entry year of university. There were few more embarrassing situations to be found in.

He was telling himself that, anyway. 

Steeling himself, Harry moved to push open his door and seek out (Y/N) only to be stopped in his tracks when he ran right into her. 

"Harry!" she bubbled, wobbling in her spot as she reached out to grab his arms. She steadied herself with the grip. "Are you okay? Sorry, I didn't know you were there." 

It was then that he noticed the slur to her words. Her eyes, ever pretty and with only remnants of mascara remaining, were glassy. More than being startled as she ran into him, she had reached for him to keep her steady on her feet. She smelled of perfume, a dark bar's worth of smoke and cologne, and the sting of alcohol. 

"'M alright," he mumbled, reaching for her arm across his chest as he scrutinized "Are you?" 

"Mhm," she hummed, blinking up at him, "Are you?" 

A small smile touched the corner of his mouth. She almost made it easy for him to forget what had happened just moments earlier. "'M alright," he repeated, "I didn't know y'were coming home tonight." 

"Oh yeah. I was supposed to," she sighed as if there was a length of story behind her words, "But, Rue got busy, so Kim said I could stay at hers, but honestly I just wanted to come back to you. I felt bad leaving you to have dinner by yourself, and I missed you so I just had her boyfriend drop me off here." 

God, had his blunder even happened? Hearing her say I missed you so flippantly all while clutching his arms and blinking right up at him was enough to bring him to his knees. She wasn't acting at all like she'd just walked in on his private moment. 

"Oh," he sounded, finding his words, "I hope I didn't make y'feel like y'needed to come back." 

She shook her head before he even finished talking. "No, no, no. I wanted to come home—I wanted to be with you. I wish you'd come out with us sometime, you'd have so much fun." 

While Harry was reeling over her words, the sentiments she was sharing so freely, (Y/N) traipsed past him. The ghost of her grip on his arms stuck around in the moments after she left him behind to approach his bed. He turned to face her with his lips rolled between his teeth in an effort to keep anything embarrassing from spilling off his tongue, only to see her slipping off her shoes. 

She left them in an unceremonious pile by his bed when she caught him looking. "What?" 

"What—um—what are you doing?" He hoped he didn't sound as rude as he did in his head. Truly, he didn't know what she was doing, beginning to shed the night while in his room.

Unabashedly, she looked up at him with a flutter of her lashes. "Can I stay here with you? Like a sleepover?" 

His heart stopped in his chest only to leap up to the base of his throat. "A sleepover?" 

"Yeah," she sighed, pulling at the hem of her dress, "Is that okay?" 

Logically, with how intoxicated she was, it was the safer option to keep her with him tonight. In case anything were to happen, of course. 

(There was everything else bubbling in his stomach, too. All the bubbles popping with whispers urging him on to keep her just where she was amongst all of his things, where he can take care of her.)

"Y'can stay," he murmured, offering a soft smile as he gazed at her. "Do y'want me to grab some clothes for you?" 

"Sure," she chirped, already blindly dealing with her hair, "Thank you, Harry." 

He gave her another smile before he left towards her bedroom a floor below. Somehow, within the confines of his home, fresh air entered his lungs and cleared his middled head. Being around her right now was making Harry feel just as drunk as she actually was. 

Maybe she hadn't seen what he was doing when she walked in? While he couldn't imagine he wasn't being completely obvious with his hand at his groin and head thrown back, she may have been too drunk to realize what he was doing. Otherwise, Harry just couldn't fathom how he was being so normal afterwards—asking if she could have a sleepover in his room, even. 

Pulling out a set of pajamas from the stack of laundry on the end of her bed, Harry tried not to dwell as he started back up the stairs to his bedroom. If she didn't want to talk about it, neither would he. (If he had any luck on his side, she might not even remember what she may or may not have seen. The memory might be one of the few that went fuzzy for her). 

Heading back into his bedroom, (Y/N) was sat crossed legged on his bed, eyes decidedly much heavier than when he had left her. Her hair was now tied up and out of the way of her face, shoes and socks in a messy pile on his floor. She perked up when he entered, eyes brightening though still glassy and tired. 

"You're back! You were gone for so long, I was scared you forgot I was home." 

Harry could only laugh at her declaration. How could he ever forget about her, let alone when she was asking to spend the night in his bed? 

"Couldn't forget about you," he admitted, his smile soft as he dropped his eyes from hers, "I hope these are alright to sleep in." 

He passed off the sleep clothes he picked for her, watching as she unfurled the pieces without even looking at them. "They're perfect, H. Thank you so much." 

Standing up from her spot on his bed, she didn't hesitate before wrapping him in a hug. Harry stood motionless for a brief moment, attempting to process the affection. All while clad in the tiny dress he had just been fantasizing about barely twenty minutes prior, the full of her soft body was pressed against his. 

Would he ever not react like a teenager with a crush when it came to her? How much longer would he feel with the racing heart and sweaty palms until his instincts caught up with the reality of her disinterest in him in that way?

Reciprocating her hold, Harry hugged (Y/N) to his chest. She all but melted into him, the effect of the alcohol in her system weighing her down (though he would like to imagine it was because she liked holding him as much as he did her). He was sure she could feel the rapid beat of his heart under her cheek—hopefully a distraction from the touch of his unsure hands hovering across her back. 

"You're so warm," she mumbled against the material of his shirt, the words slurred and nearly unintelligible. "You should've come out with me tonight; I forgot my jacket but I would have at least had you." 

Harry's fingers tensed over her back. The pumps of his heart throbbed down to his fingertips, his lashes fluttering in a blink. She had to stop talking like that; he was already well into losing his mind over her, there was no need to keep piling it on. 

"Sorry," he breathed, the word feeling lame as it fell from his tongue. 

He made no move to recoil from her until she did, making the first move to unwrap her arms from around his middle. His eyes followed her as she focused then on trudging to his bathroom and dressing for the night. She tossed a noncommittal promise to be right back over her shoulder before disappearing behind his bathroom door. 

Left alone, Harry sat on the edge of his bed. He looked at the floor to where her mess of discarded accessories lay in a rumpled pile, a visible cue of her presence. 

She'd never asked to stay in his bedroom like this before. Even on other nights where she clamored home with alcohol in her blood, she'd never stumbled into his room with the intention of having a "sleepover" with him. 

But, of course, the one night she does, is when she walks in on him with his hand down his pants.

The reminder of the moment had a heavy sigh heaving his chest. He wished he was just as drunk as (Y/N), that way he had a chance of possibly forgetting the incident in the morning. Instead, he had a feeling he was going to be dwelling on it for at least another week, if not more. On the plus side, it didn't appear she had any intention of talking to him about it. 

In a clumsy string of movements, (Y/N) made her entrance back into his bedroom with a strong swing of the door. Her clothing was rumpled as she padded across the floor on bare feet. She only barely acknowledged him before she threw herself onto his bed. 

Harry let out a breathy laugh. "Do y'want anything to drink or eat before y'fall asleep?" 

"No," she moaned, wriggling her way into his bedding. "Tired." 

"Do y'need to take off your makeup?" he pressed, standing to help her adjust the layers of sheets and comforter over her form.

"I already did," she countered, tugging the bedding up to her chin as she gazed up at him. Truthfully, he couldn't tell if she really did remove her makeup given the shadows still around her eyes, but if that's the story she was going with, he wasn't arguing. 

"Alright," he sighed, knotting his hands together as he stood beside his bed as if it wasn't his own, "Y'really want to have a sleepover tonight?" 

(Y/N) didn't even blink before she was nodding her head. "Yeah. Your bed is bigger than mine." 

Harry hummed, now seeing the root of her new fascination with spending the night with him. "And y'want me to stay with you?" he asked, wanting to ensure they were both on the same page. 

"Duh," she laughed, turning until she was comfortable with her head on the pillow he'd just been laying against. "Lay down, we're supposed to talk before we fall asleep like a real sleepover." 

While he found humor in the whole situation, his hands still held a slight tremor as he turned down his side—his side—of the bed. 

Was this how he was supposed to do this? How did one share a bed? Other than true sleepovers as a kid, where he and friends would squeeze into beds too small after staying up way too late, there was never a time he'd shared a bed with another. Especially not so with someone he held... extra feelings for. Feelings that he hadn't quite shaken if the way his briefs were just a touch tighter than they should be was anything to go by. 

Working on autopilot, Harry slid into bed. He could feel the dip in the mattress from (Y/N)'s body, a certain warmth spreading across his sheets he'd never experienced before. The scent of her night still clung to her, though now the fragrance of fresh sheets and Harry's own cologne swirled between them. Sleepy blinks were offered to him as he stiffly laid among his bedding, (Y/N)'s tired eyes trained on him.

He swallowed, feeling the weight of her attention on him. "What are y'th—" 

His line of questioning was cut off when (Y/N) sloppily rolled towards him, lying flush against the line of his body. She molded herself to him with a sigh, her head snuggled into the cove underneath his chin. 

"What did you do tonight?" were her mumbled words, slurred and fuzzy against his neck. 

Harry, stunned for the moment, laid still. Those moments with her head laying on his lap or a press of their shoulders together could do nothing to prepare him for this. (Y/N)'s slight shuffle against him was enough to knock him back to earth, his limbs carefully laying around her in a delicate hold. 

"Um, what?" Harry asked, mind having been wiped of the last handful of minutes. 

"What did you do while I was gone?" 

"Oh," he sounded, aware of the way his arm fell across the curve of her waist and smooth planes of her back he could feel through her top, "Nothing really; jus' took a nap and cleaned the kitchen. Nothing exciting—not like you, it sounds like." 

(Y/N) hummed from her hiding place in his neck. "Nothing exciting at all?" she sang, a teasing lilt to her drunken voice. 

Harry swallowed. She wasn't hinting at anything in particular, right? 

"I mean, I started a new book before I took m'nap," he hedged, eyes stuck on the concert poster he had pasted to his wall. "But that's really it." 

She shifted in his hold, pulling out of his arms just enough to look up at him. Her eyes were still swimming and glossy, but she didn't shy away from his gaze. There was a small tick at the corner of her lips.

"Are we not going to talk about it? Because we don't have to, I just want to know." 

His muscles wound tight as he listened to her. She kept her voice decidedly quiet, as if there was anyone else around that could overhear. 

Were they going to talk about it? That wasn't really a decision Harry wanted to make, but he couldn't turn away the option now that it was served up to him. 

"Um," he fumbled, his mouth lagging behind his racing mind, "I—Uh—I... 'M sorry." 

Canting her head, (Y/N) blinked at him. "Sorry?" 

His throat bobbed, tongue suddenly too thick in his mouth. "'M sorry, I... I didn't know y'were coming home, I wouldn't have... you know. I didn't mean for you to see or... hear." 

Please god, he hoped she hadn't heard a thing—that he said or thought. 

(Y/N)'s features cracked into a smile when she finally processed what he'd said. It only took a moment for that smile to bloom into a peal of laughter. 

"Harry, it's not that serious," she got out in-between giggles, "You didn't do anything wrong—it's not like I don't think you do that kind of stuff. I just didn't know if we were going to ignore that I walked in or if we were going to laugh about it. You're not supposed to be sorry for anything; I should have knocked, anyway." 

Harry's mouth went dry. He wasn't sure what kind of reaction this was. Was this only because of the vodka in her system? Or was she really this comfortable with the events of the evening? If it were the other way around, Harry didn't think he would be able to speak let alone laugh at the situation for at least a whole week. 

(Though that could be entirely attributed to the fact that he had that thorny crush on her stuck to the chambers of his heart). 

The lump in his throat cracked and allowed a breathy laugh to come through after a heartbeat. Maybe she was right, it wasn't that serious. It's not like she could have known he was thinking about her. They were both adults, people who were more than able and accustomed to pleasuring their bodies—there was no reason to be weird about it if she wasn't going to be. 

"Jus', should have locked m'door at least," he laughed, joining her as he sagged into the mattress. 

"Yeah," she pressed, settling against him once more now that the seal was broken between them, "I always lock my door, you're too brave." 

He hoped she didn't notice the way his hands pulsed when she so casually brought up her own moments in her bedroom. He wasn't strong enough to broach that subject just yet. 

"Maybe," he agreed, "Sorry, anyway. Not the nicest thing to come home to, that's for sure." 

"I mean," (Y/N) started, her voice breathy as she sunk into his arms, "It wasn't that bad. More embarrassing for you than anything else, I bet." 

The laughter from his chest died down then. His brain caught on her words. "Not that bad?" he parroted, unsure of what or why he was even asking. 

"I mean, you're cute, H. You know that," she said oh-so casually. "I feel bad I walked in and scared you, but I can't act like it was the absolute worst moment of my life or something." She spoke with amusement, a touch of laughter carrying out her words as if this was all so easy. 

"Oh," Harry started, swallowing around his dry throat, "Y'think 'm cute?" 

She rolled into him, tucking herself against him once more. Harry didn't doubt that she was well acquainted with the pounding of his pulse at this point. "Of course I do, you know that. You're, like, the cutest guy I know. I mean," she sighed, voice slurring even more with the dredges of sleep tugging at her words, "you didn't have to stop earlier, if you didn't want to. I could've helped." 

Harry's body stopped working in that moment. Time was moving too fast around him while he was seemingly stuck in that moment. 

What? Is that a normal thing to say? Is this what happens when you share a bed with someone, even if they were only a friend?

His palms grew clammy. "What do you mean?" 

"You know," she yawned, "Just... I know you don't go on dates or bring anyone home or anything, so I could help you if you ever wanted. You're too cute to be by yourself, H." 

What the fuck? What was even happening at the moment? Was he delusional? Or dreaming so intensely he couldn't be sure if it was real or not? But he swore, crossing his heart and all, that this was real and completely happening all while (Y/N) was tucked in his arms with her mouth hovering by his throat. 

And she was offering to jerk him off sometime. Because he was too cute to do it by himself. 

What the fuck? 

"(Y/N)?" 

Harry received no answer. Her chest pressed against his and receded in even paces, puffs of air fanning across the slope of his neck. 

Staring once more at the poster on his wall, Harry didn't feel a single sleepy bone in his body. If he had thought he was restless before, there was no way he was getting any sleep tonight. 

—————

Exhaustion shackled his limbs as Harry moved through the kitchen. Just as he figured, there wasn't more than an hour of sleep in his system, his mind running too fast to allow him any kind of relaxation. Not when there was the extra presence in his bed. 

By the time the sun cracked through his curtains and (Y/N) had rolled to show her back to him, Harry forced himself out of bed. He doubted she was going to have an easy wakeup after the night she'd had, and he was already in shambles, making breakfast essential for the both of them to get through the morning hours. 

That didn't make it any easier, though. A large part of him wanted to stay tucked amongst his sheets, cozy and warm with the best view he could imagine available just before him. Despite that urge, a smaller part of him was still drenched in the complication that came with the slurred words she offered just before dozing off. 

First of all, he wasn't sure if he was supposed to be embarrassed that she noticed he'd never really dated before and definitely never brought home anyone. It was bad enough that he was well aware of his lack of dating and sex life, he wasn't comforted at the idea of (Y/N) taking note. Second, what did it even mean to be too cute to be by himself? It brought a flush to his cheeks, the implication. But, was it really a compliment to be cute? He'd never heard (Y/N) describe any of the people she was interested in as cute; they were always pretty, and glowing, and handsome, and—of course—hot as fuck. 

Harry didn't want to know where he placed on her scale of attractiveness. 

Then, lest he forget, there was the whole offer of her taking care of him. If he ever wanted, of course. 

Even just the memory of her words was enough to have his limbs going robotic as he moved through the kitchen. He was going to burn his croissant if he wasn't careful. It was enough to even overshadow the moment she had walked in on him, it was that monumental to him.

But, Harry had a feeling that she wasn't going to remember much of the night before, let alone a throwaway comment right before falling asleep. And that was going to be better for the both of them.

Once he had twin plates of scrambled eggs with cheese, buttery croissants, and cut up fruit, he was daring to step back up the stairs to his bedroom. He felt like an intruder, knowing (Y/N) was still asleep, wrapped up in his bedding. Even if it was to wake her for breakfast, he felt reluctant to pull her from much needed rest.

Though, as soon as he pushed open the door, Harry realized he wasn't going to have to worry about waking her up. Not when she was already looking at him, blinking the sleep out of her eyes with the creases of his pillow etched in her cheek.

"Harry," she sighed, bringing a hand up to rub at her eye, "You're awake." 

"You're awake," he parroted, "I didn't think I'd see y'until this afternoon." 

She nodded absently, missing the amusement in his voice. "Me neither. Where did you go? I thought you'd left me here." 

It was the pout on her face and the downward lilting of her voice that had him taking a step towards his bed. "'M sorry," he murmured, feeling guilt pinch at his heart, "I was jus' downstairs making dinner. I was about to come get you and see if y'were hungry." 

"Breakfast?" she chirped, waking up that much more at the offer of food. 

"Eggs and those croissants," he confirmed, words coming out in a song as he tempted her with the offer. 

"That sounds so good, thank you," she muttered, voice genuinely warm as her gaze wrapped around him from across the room, "Will you come lay with me for a few more minutes, though? I don't want to get up yet." 

"I can bring your plate up here, if y'want," Harry offered, though they both saw him taking those quiet steps towards her.

(Y/N) simply shook her head. "Just you." 

Those two syllables launched him back to the night prior, where she couldn't continue her night without telling him just how much she had wanted only him through her night of bar hopping. Just him—the one on her mind, supposedly. He was too cute to be by himself.

Harry didn't respond before he was slipping into bed beside her, taking up the dented spot where his body had laid stiffly the night before. She took her spot against his form wordlessly, as if it were a part of the norm to snuggle up to him in the morning. 

"Thank you for letting me sleep in here last night," (Y/N) murmured, her chest expanding against his as she peered up at him through her lashes, "I know I was kind of a mess."

"No, no," he shook his head, "Y'were jus' fine. 'M happy y'came home instead of staying somewhere y'didn't want to." 

A small peal of laughter fanned across his skin. "I think everyone was getting annoyed anyway," she started, "I kept telling them that I shouldn't have left you home alone, so I think they were ready for me to just go back." 

Harry could feel his skin going warm. With his eyes closed, he attempted to keep his breathing from hitching. She was going to kill him one of these days. 

"Y'dont' have to worry about me when y'go out, (Y/N)," he insisted, voice as quiet as the grazing of his hands across her back. "'M fine, you go have fun." 

If not for the fact he was hyper aware of her body and just how close she was, he doubted he would have noticed the small shift she made across the sheets to land further in his arms. 

"You're just," she sighed, pausing between her words, "I don't want you to feel left behind or lonely. You're a good friend and you deserve to have fun and feel good." 

Her proposition that he had pushed to the back of his mind was suddenly roped right to the front. Of course, there was the damper of being such a good friend to her that she felt this way, but there was the rest of the statement to contend with first. 

"I—um—'M fine, (Y/N). Really. 'M actually pretty good company, if y'ask me." He had hoped she would join him when he let out a breathy laugh, but he made the only sound in the room. 

The pause lasted just long enough Harry wondered if (Y/N) had fallen asleep again before he heard her voice: 

"Like last night?" His heart all but stopped in his chest. For the second time in the last twenty-four hours, time seemed to stand still while everything in his body went into overdrive. 

She wasn't supposed to remember that. She was supposed to be too plastered to remember anything, let alone the one moment with her he's ever regretted. What was he supposed to say to her? Was she teasing him, was he disgusted now that she was sober enough to have an opinion, was this one big joke that he was going to hav—

"(Y/N), I—" He started unraveling himself from her before she popped up with wide eyes. 

"No, no, I'm sorry," she rushed out, "That wasn't—I'm not trying to—I'm not making fun of you or, I don't know. I just mean..." She looked at him with uncertain crinkles by her eyes, her lips pursed as if she wanted to speak but had to hold back. 

"'M fine," he started again, sitting up amongst the rumpled bedding, "'M sorry if I ma—" 

"Do you remember what I said last night?" 

As soon as the question tumbled from her lips, Harry swore the room became five degrees hotter. 

"Do you remember?" he attempted to joke, though neither of them cracked a smile. 

She gave a nod. "About... you know. I could... help, if you wanted. So you're not by yourself." 

His mouth ran dry. There was much more power to the offer in the light of the morning with (Y/N)'s clear eyes directed to him. There was no slur of alcohol to her voice or liquid to her bones. 

She was entirely serious. So serious, she was asking him again. 

"You don't have to do that, (Y/N)," he murmured, dropping his gaze from hers. This was too much, to have to decline her—decline her pity offer after walking in on him with his hand down his pants the night before. "Really, 'm alright. I have no problem being... by myself." 

(Y/N) looked away with her lips rolled between her teeth. "I know I don't have to, but I want to. You deserve someone to look after you the way you look after me." 

"I don't think I look after you quite like that, though," he tired again, his light-hearted tone attempting to ease the tension. (Y/N) didn't grab the lifeline. 

"At least let me set you up with someone then?" (Y/N) offered this time, "I want you to meet someone you care about, then. At the very least, then we could double date." 

"I really... I don't want anyone. I'm okay." Anyone, but her was the right thing to say, but that wasn't something he was willing to admit at the moment. 

"There's this girl I know, though," she chattered off, suddenly coming to life, "You would really get along with her, H. She's super pretty, she's tall, and I don't think she likes Italian food, but we could work on—"

 "'M really okay, ser—" 

"No, H, she always loves reading—it's actually kind of funny how much she talks about all these books and—" 

Harry felt his stomach beginning to twist and turn. She could be the nicest woman in the world, this friend of hers. But there were many reasons why he was never going to take (Y/N) up on this offer. 

Starting with the fact that the one girl he had his eye on was right in front of him, and ending with the glaring truth of his virginity. He doubted (Y/N) or any of her friends like her were going to be very invested in that.

"And, not to get gross, but she's super hot. Like her body, H, you have to see her—"

"I'm a virgin." 

A flush ran up his skin, blooming his veins and reddening his skin. Why did he say that? Why did he share that? Is he suddenly an idiot? Was he now lacking a verbal filter and had to say everything that came to mind?

At the very least, (Y/N) finally stopped. The many wonderful and hot attributes of her friend had stopped. There was only a blanket of silence floating between them now. 

His heartbeat sounded in his ears before (Y/N) had any kind of reaction

"Oh," was all that fell from her lips. 

Peeking through his lashes, he was waiting for her to recoil. To look at him a little funny—the way the few that had learned that information looked at him. That moment of questioning how someone could have avoided sex (as if that was what he was up to), then wondering if there was something wrong with him, if there was something hiding under his skin that he was unwilling to share. Most people tried to recover as quickly as they could, brightening and telling him that it was alright. Plenty of people were waiting until marriage, they couldn't blame him of course! 

It was an uncomfortable conversation, one Harry let the other party lead. He never really felt like getting into the why's and the moments that he decided to turn down a potential warm bed. Or why it wasn't within his capabilities to have sex outside of a relationship with trust in the mix, or the fact that he'd never been in a relationship that met those qualifications. 

But, (Y/N) didn't do that. She looked at him with appraising eyes, not in search of something wrong. She looked at him like there was so much to be seen, to the point she couldn't believe it just because he was... him. 

"I didn't know that," she muttered, canting her head, "I always just kind of figured that you weren't." Her eyes widened then. "Wait, I've said so many things, why did you never correct me?"

Harry shrugged, the sheets rustling around him. "I know 's not... normal, so I jus' don't really talk about it. 'S easier if I jus' let y'assume." 

Her expression fell a little then. "I hope I never made you feel like you couldn't tell me," her eyes were soft as she gazed at him, "You know it didn't change anything to me, right?" 

A small smile cracked his lips. "Thanks."

She relaxed a touch then, her muscles untensing from the tension he injected with his admission. "Is it weird to ask you why? Like, why you've waited and everything?" 

"I wouldn't really say I've waited," he clarified, "I jus'... I've met people I wanted to be with and all of that, and I've had opportunities but I didn't take them." He paused, rolling his lips between his teeth; this was one of the harder bits to admit. It sounded silly even to his own ears, even if it was something he believed in. "I've never had anyone I trusted enough to share that... experience with. So I've just never." 

(Y/N) listened intently, eyes clear with a cant to her head. God, even with the harsh beating of his heart as he exhumed his secrets, she really was the absolute prettiest. 

"I get it," she muttered, "It's easier to wait than to spend the rest of your life regretting it." 

"Exactly," he exaggeratedly murmured, "'S like y'live in m'head, (Y/N)." 

His attempt at joking was enough to pull a small laugh from her chest. (Y/N) relaxed further into his bed, carving a dent into his mattress just at his side. Finally, that comfortable silence he lived in with her returned. 

He couldn't believe he'd been so flighty about this whole thing. This wasn't one of the things he needed to be nervous about, not compared to what she had walked into last night. And even that incident was less earth shattering than he made it out to be. 

(Y/N)'s tone was much less trepidatious when she spoke again, a decided difference than even a moment before. "Have you done anything else, though? Or have you waited for the whole thing?" 

"Haven't done anything," he responded, with a heaving sigh, "'M waiting on the whole experience I guess." 

"With someone you trust." 

A small smile bloomed over his features. "With someone I trust." 

A beat of silence passed between them. (Y/N) fiddled with the comforter tangled at her waist. "Can I ask you one more thing?" 

Harry hummed an acknowledgement. He should have agreed to get back into bed with her, he was beginning to consider leaving breakfast for this afternoon in favor of a quick nap. 

"Do you trust me?" 

It was the way she said it less than the actual words she said that had a pang echoing through Harry's chest. Of course, he trusted her; she was his best friend. Though, Harry doubted that was what she was trying to get at.

He gave a small confirmation in the form of a quiet yes. 

(Y/N) twisted in the sheets, looking up at him with clear eyes. Her lips glistened, the tip of her tongue having grazed over the pillows. "I know you said you're waiting and everything, but if you wanted to... change that, and you trust me...we could do whatever you wanted." 

As startling as the proposition was last night, this one inspired a twist in his stomach. This wasn't a drunken idea gone rogue. She was looking at him with a steady gaze and lips worried between her teeth. She was serious. She wanted to "do whatever" he wanted. With him. 

Despite there being no visible traces of pity on (Y/N)'s face, he truly could barely fathom the idea of her offering herself up to him so willingly. Especially after learning that there would be little he could offer in return—his skills were more than lacking. 

"(Y/N), you don't want to do that," he started, "'M alright, I d—" 

"I do," she cut him off, the words tumbling from her mouth without thought, "I do want to, I mean. You know I care about you right, Harry?" 

His mouth ran dry. "I know." 

A small smile touched her mouth. "You don't have to, obviously. I just wanted you to know that if you ever don't want to wait or kind of just want to get the pressure out of the way, I'm here."

 Was Harry going to explode? Was he going to flick through the room like a balloon deflating of helium? Or was his stomach going to swallow him whole and leave behind only the sticky tar of his feelings? 

And she was being so casual about it. She offered it as if there was no gravity to her words. 

"You don't have to say anything, though. Just remember that," she said with a soft smile, sitting up in bed with eyes on the door, "You said break—" 

"I want to." 

As soon as the declaration choked out of his throat, Harry wanted to cringe. He wanted to retract every breath, every thought, every twist of his tongue against his teeth that brought him here. Sure, she was offering, but there was such a thing as being over eager.

(Y/N) paused, glancing back to him. A light graced the hue of her irises. 

"Really?" 

He didn't trust himself to say another word. Harry only nodded. 

"You don't want to wait, anymore?" she prodded, forgetting the cracked door and the food downstairs. 

Now wasn't the time to give her the full list of why this exact moment was a dream come true (just short of having her as his girlfriend and holding her hand as they went to the movies), but she had offered a few good points. 

"I mean," he started, swallowing as his eyes dropped to the tip of her nose in avoidance of her eyes, "I do trust you. If there's anyone I know I wouldn't regret sharing this with, 's you." 

"I suppose we are best friends," (Y/N) added, layering her voice with a smile, "But, you're sure?" 

"I am," he said without a moment of hesitation, "Maybe jus' not... everything? I think that might be a bit much for me." 

"Of course, of course," she rushed out, waving her hands as if to wipe the pressure out of the air, "We'll only do what you want." 

Maybe Harry was a bit too much of an open book, unable to truly hide whatever it was that was running through his head, but he couldn't help the way his eyes immediately dropped to her hands. 

Harry knew just how soft her hands were. He'd seen the hand creams she used every night, and felt the plush skin every time they grazed hands or she made the dangerous decision of just laying a hand on his arm every time he made her laugh just a little too much. There was even once, way back when they'd first started becoming friends, that she had him to compare hand sizes. Even now, he vividly remembered just how soft her palm was against his, the stretch of her fingers that didn't reach up to the tips of his own. It was a memory he held onto and one he couldn't get out of his head at that moment. 

He'd thought more than once what it would be like to have her hand on him instead of his own between the sheets. What the visual of her pretty manicured nails, digits of her fingers, the softness of her palm would look like fisted around his length. He didn't have to know to be certain he wouldn't last very long if he ever had the chance to find out. 

From the corner of his eyes, he saw the wide smile mold (Y/N)'s features. 

"Really?" she coyly asked, stretching out her fingers from the cover of her sleeves. 

"Hm?" he hummed, forcing his eyes back to her own. 

A peal of laughter fell from her lips as she crawled back to her spot at his side. "My hands. That's all you want?" 

His skin felt flush as he nodded, his bottom lip wedged between his teeth. "Only if you want." 

She hovered above him, the tips of her hair hanging around them like a curtain. She looked like a dream there, only slats of light working across her face. Shadows sliced over her cheekbones and the length of her lashes with the pretty color of her eyes gleaming in the sun and the curve of her lips highlighted. 

He must be dreaming, but he was never this anxious in his dreams. Especially not one so lovely. 

"No one's ever done that for you before?" she asked, taking up a spot on the mattress at his side with her eyes grazing over his features. 

"Never," he confirmed, feeling his stomach stir at the feel of the heat of her body at his side. 

God was this really about to happen? 

"You're okay with me being the first?" Her voice suddenly had dropped a few octaves, a murmur in the air between them. 

He didn't have to think before he nodded. "I want you to be the first." 

Her eyes were bright, sparkling in the slat of light shining through her hair. "Right now?"

"Right now." 

She looked entirely too gorgeous to be normal when she smiled at him. "Just show me what you like, then. I'm all yours." 

His stiffening cock jumped at her words. She needed to stop talking like that if she didn't want him to embarrass himself. 

With that, (Y/N) wiggled her hand under his own on his abdomen, amusement in her eyes. Harry felt his breathing hitch at the simple touch. Just as soft as he thought. 

In an effort to preserve some semblance of his sanity, he closed his eyes before wrapping the length of his fingers around her hand. It was a moment, a full heartbeat pounding through his ears, before he pulsed his hand around hers in an affectionate squeeze and traced her hand down his middle. 

He could feel the tense of his muscles under his shirt, his legs spreading just that much wider. The ghost of her touch was a stark reminder that he never finished the job last night. 

Amongst his rumpled bed sheets, Harry couldn't be sure that this was even real life. Not that he spent any specific amount of time picturing what this first time would be like, but he could admit that he never really thought it would be like this. Not in sweatpants that had a stain from the eggs he had scrambled only twenty minutes prior. Not with his hand being the guiding force down to the waist of his bottoms. Not with (Y/N).

His cock stirred when their joined hands reached the elastic band of his sweatpants. Despite not even feeling her bare skin on his, goosebumps were raised. Was he going to embarrass himself by finishing within seconds? Harry had a feeling that was going to be the scenario at hand. 

(Y/N) wiggled her hand out from under his, hooking her fingers in the waist under her own volition. "You're still alright? With all of this?" 

"Yeah," Harry breathed out, his voice a hair above a whisper in hopes of disguising the tremor. 

"Okay," she said, looking up at him for a brief moment with a reassuring smile, "If you don't want to anymore, though, just let me know. We'll have breakfast and pretend nothing happened." 

His heartbeat sped up at her declaration. He knew he could trust her—with his body, with his delicate feelings, with his life, even. 

Harry didn't move his eyes from her even when she directed her attention to her hand. He watched her as she pushed his sweatpants down, the band falling just far enough down to hit the end of his boxer-briefs. His mouth fell open as he attempted to gain any insight into what she might be thinking, this being the first time he'd ever been this exposed to anyone before. Even with the layer of his underwear on, he'd never been in front of anyone in an undergarment like this. 

(Y/N) didn't give much away, only the cautious pace of her movements indicated the gravity of this moment. She skated her palm over the jut of his hip, easing him into the feel of her touch; he doubted she missed the way his cock jumped. His body reacted readily to each of her touches: goosebumps on his skin, bunched muscles in his abdomen, lungs squeezing in his chest, and the bruising hold of his teeth over his bottom lip. 

His hip was only the first step before she continued her path. She grazed the top of his thigh, nails denting into his skin in gentle pressures. His breath caught when she touched the lump of his cock, enough so that his chest shuddered. She lingered there, going so far as to give a slight squeeze, only causing him to harden more in her grip.

"I'm going to put my hand underneath, okay?" (Y/N) shared, voice quiet before he felt the first touch of her fingertips. 

"Okay," he answered involuntarily, tongue thick in his mouth. He was so gone for her in the moment, it was hard to think straight.

Harry lifted his hips to help her pull down his briefs, leaving them bunched at the mid of his thighs. His cock bobbed free, flushed and ruddy already. He doubted any other person in the world would have gained a reaction like this one. 

This time, he caught (Y/N)'s first real reaction. Her eyes widened, grazing over the length of him as she pulled her bottom lip between his teeth. She laid her hand on his abdomen for a beat, absently curling her fingers in the hem of his shirt she'd only pushed up and out of the way.  

Suddenly, she seemingly shook herself out of her head, looking up at Harry with a blink of her eyes. 

"Is it alright if I move a little?" she murmured, "I want to get more comfortable, if that's okay." 

She asked as if he had the power to deny her of anything, especially something so inconsequential. 

As soon as Harry nodded, she shifted at his side. Kicking the comforter off of her legs, she rolled to lay on her side next to him. He instinctively wrapped an arm underneath her, his palm landing just between her shoulder blades. The cuddling felt a little more inconsequential now that she had a hand traveling down his form, even if the feel of her chest pressed against him was enough to have his blood pumping faster. 

Now that she was settled, (Y/N) resumed her ministrations with both of their eyes trained on the movement of her hand. Harry swore it was just the fact that she was looking at him at all that had the blurt of precum seeping from his head, a pearl glistening in the morning light. 

"Just—um—if I do something you like, tell me and I'll try to keep doing it," she spoke distractedly, a slight rasp to her voice he hadn't anticipated in his fantasies. 

His mumble of okay was lost as soon as he saw her bring her hand to her mouth. He watched on as she dragged her tongue across her palm, slicking the skin before wrapping her fist around his base. 

"Oh, fuck," he let out, barely audible over the heavy sigh that carried out the words. He fought to keep his eyes open, spying the way (Y/N)'s features curled into a smile with her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. 

She did a precursory drag of her hand over his length, the pacing slow and aching. Harry could feel every crease and pillow of her palm. God, she was just as soft as he imagined. 

His chest shuddered as he watched her pretty nails sparkling in the light. The pink polish seemingly mimicked the flush of his head, glimmering and sparkling like the slick of her spit over his shaft. If that wasn't bad enough, seeing the fact that her fingers didn't even connect around the girth of him was going to kill him. Were her hands that small or was he bigger than he thought? 

As if hearing his thoughts, a mutter came from (Y/N), "You're so big, H. I had no idea." 

He wanted to say something (was it corny to say "thank you" to something like that?), instead only a rumbling groan came from his chest. The pillows under his head were the perfect cushions when he couldn't handle keeping it up anymore. He was already flushed and warm, muscles too tight for comfort, and stomach tightening into a burn. And she'd barely even started. 

Hearing his reaction was enough to spur her on, dragging her fist over and over his length. Periodically, she swiped her thumb over his crown, spreading the pearls of precum he let out. The slick passes of her hand rang out through his bedroom, competing with the puffs of his heavy breathing as the most erotic sound filtering through his bedroom. 

"Ti-Tighter," he choked out, his arm around her back holding her flush to his side. 

(Y/N) didn't respond, but he immediately felt the vice of her hand tighten that much more around his length. Another string of curses fell from his lips, his throat thick. 

"Is this good?" she asked, turning until she was looking up at him with wide eyes. Her pupils were dilated, darkening the hue of her irises. 

Harry wasn't able to think as he looked at her. She was his dream, the ultimate fantasy. Looking up at him with glossy eyes, her manicured hand squeezing around his cock. And for the first time, he noticed she was rubbing her thighs together as she took care of him. His free hand clutched the mess of his sheets; he wouldn't be surprised if he found holes in the fabric later. 

"So good," Harry breathed, the words broken on his tongue, "So, so good, (Y/N)." 

The smile she gave him was devastating.

Was she crazy? Was she trying to send him over the edge this quickly? He was starting to think so. 

"I was going to ask if you wanted it tighter, but I think we've found it," she teased, entirely too light-hearted for one of the most monumental moments of his life. 

"Y-Yeah," he answered, feeling delirious, "(Y/N), I-I'm close. 'M sorry." 

"Why are you sorry?" she asked, a pinch appearing between her brows, "This is about you, you don't have to be sorry. Cum whenever you want—as long as you feel good, I don't care." 

Her pace was unrelenting, the slap of her hand hitting his base mimicking the beat of his heart. 

"Fuck, (Y/N)," he muttered, voice strained, "Let me—I don't want to make a m-mess on you, I can grab—" 

She shushed him, shaking her head against his chest. "I can handle a little mess, H, it's okay. Stop thinking about me, this is about you." 

Stop thinking about me, as if that were ever an option for him. 

Still the sentiment stuck the same, especially her willingness to allow him to leave any kind of mark on her, including one so primitive. 

He spared a glance down at her. Her features were mostly hidden give the angle and the wisps of her hair in the way, but he could still see the flutter of her lashes as she watched herself getting him off, he could see the pinch of her nose and the gape of her lips. He could see her thighs squeezed tightly together, the shirts covering her modesty turning tight and especially short around her hips. 

God, this was (Y/N) on him. That was her pretty, soft hand on his length. That was her chest pressed to his ribs, only layers away from feeling the heavy beating of his heart. That was her wrapped up in the sheets holding his scent and so eagerly and happily fisting his cock. 

"Shit," he moaned, his voice rumbling and deep as he threw his head back, "(Y/N), 'm cumming, love." 

There was a void in the pit of his stomach that tightened and popped in that moment, unraveling him from the inside out. His balls tightened at his base just before the first rope off is cum spurted from his tip. The mess he'd worried about came to life then, white ribbons projecting as far up to the chest of his top, others dripping down his length and further wetting (Y/N)'s hand. 

Guileless moans echoed from his chest, filling the room as he came for the first time at the hand of another. His body urged him to close his eyes, the visuals before him being too much for his fragile psyche. But Harry fought the instinct. There was no way he was missing even a single frame of this; there was likely never going to be another time he had the privilege of laying with (Y/N) like this, he wasn't going to let anything get in the way. Including his eyelids. 

She didn't slow down as she helped him through the throes, her own breathing turning rough and off-kilter. Her toes curled in her socks, thighs pressed tightly together. 

Harry could have been up in the stratosphere for hours with the way he slumped against the bed exhausted by the time the final drop of his release slithered down his cock. (Y/N) slowed, though she kept going until the final aftershock left his spine and Harry had to pull her hand away before he burst into flames. 

His breathing came in heavy puffs, lips parted and swollen. He didn't need to see himself to know that his cheeks were cherry red with a nose to match, his curls pasted to his temples with sweat, and his eyes just a bit wild. 

Despite pushing her hand out of the way, (Y/N) didn't think before she laced their fingers together. Her touch was a bit sticky now, but there was no way Harry was going to complain. He kept his arm aprons her back tight, fingers denting the soft plane between her shoulder blades. 

He could have laid there for days, feeling the warmth of (Y/N)'s body and her soft hand in his. If not for the fact his cum had begun to dry and go cold. At the very least he needed to clean (Y/N) up—he doubted it was good bedroom etiquette to leave her to clean up after his mess. 

Forcing his eyes open, Harry blindly reached for the tissue box he kept on his bedside table (truthfully, it was for the hay fever he always seemed to have, but the sheets definitely had their convenient uses. Uses he would never admit to, of course). Reluctantly, he peeled (Y/N)'s hand out of his, wiping the streak of his cum marring her palm. 

A breathy giggle fell from her lips. 

"What?" he asked, his voice bubbled and cracked. 

"Nothing," she smiled, "You're just sweet." 

For some odd reason, he flushed harder than he should at something so mundane. 

"Thank you," he peeped, cleaning the stray strings that reached up to her wrist. 

As soon as (Y/N) was free from the traces of him, he took care of his own thighs and the streaks that hit his shirt. The pile of tissues he had to take to the trash made a little mountain on his bedside table by the time he had himself tucked away and sweatpants laying against his hips once more. 

"Um," he started, unsure of what to say after an experience like that. What even qualified as pillow talk, and how did one start it with someone that was just his roommate? "I'll be right back," he settled on, reaching for the mess of tissues, "'M going to cl—" 

"Harry." 

He didn't think before he looked at her. Her eyes were still full of dilated pupils with swollen lips, but the way she looked at him held more tenderness than he thought capable in a moment like this. 

"Stay with me for a second," she requested, her voice a soft coo. 

There wasn't a second thought to be had as he listened to her command. If he thought he was gone for her before, that was nothing compared to the endorphins coursing through him every time she looked at him in that moment. 

(Y/N) didn't wait before she was rolling to wrap him in a hug. It was a bit awkward, the way she had to stretch up to loop her arms around his neck and the way their legs tangled in the sheets. But it was more than worth it. 

Harry had always pictured himself to be the kind of guy that would want a cuddle after sex, but he never could have imagined just how vital this kind of contact would be after something so intense. Despite this being levels below the real act, Harry still clung to her. 

Every time his chest inflated with a whiff of her hair and sullied perfume, she deflated with a breath that fanned across his neck. Kicking free of the sheets, (Y/N) opted instead to curl her legs between his in a welcome tangle. Her warmth radiated through the material of her shirt, a soothing heat that brought him back down to earth. 

He didn't think before the words were being whispered into her hair: "Thank you." 

The smile on her face was audible when she spoke, "You're welcome, Harry." 

He couldn't help but squeeze her that much harder. "I'm sorry I can't offer anything in return," he admitted, a frown etching its way onto her lips, "I-I could try, I jus' don't think I'll be very good or—" 

She shushed him with a press of her lips to his cheek. It was an act that took his already fragile breathing out of pace once more. The tip of her nose grazed his skin, the plush of her lips hitting right where he knew his dimple to be when he smiled. 

"Stop talking," she laughed when she finally—regretfully—pulled away. "This was all about you, Harry. I'm just happy that you felt good, and trusted me enough to let me do this with you. That's all I need." 

He could only hug her harder. 

Harry would have laid there for hours, happily so, even when he could feel the strength returning to his muscles and the beat of his heart leveling out, but (Y/N) was the first to pull away. She pressed another soft kiss to his cheek before she untangled herself from him. 

Her eyes practically glimmered as she looked down at him. "You said there was breakfast downstairs, right?" 

That was enough to get a full laugh echoing from his chest, his lungs squeezing in the best way possible. 

He was never, ever going to be free of this crush on her. Not now. 

—————

pomegranates, an ancient roman wedding gift; the fruit hades offered to persephone to keep her in the underworld. with him.

ahhhhhhh thanl u sm for reading! so sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any fun ideas or anything please send them in!

[paddockletters]

only girl (in the word) | lando norris

pairing: lando norris x reader summary: Lando and y/n enjoy a night out at a club with friends, but when some girls try to get close, he doesn't allow it and gives you your place as always. author's note: I took inspiration from a tiktok that I saw some time ago and I wanted to write it, so I hope you like it 😭😭

The lights of the nightclub flickered as the music pulsed through the room, blending with the laughter and chatter of the crowd. I leaned back against the VIP section, sipping my drink and watching Lando at the DJ booth with Martin. Both of them were having a blast, messing around with the controller and hyping up the crowd. Nights like this had become a regular thing for us—a little bit of fun, music, and good company with our tight-knit circle.

Even though Lando was always in the spotlight, we had managed to keep our relationship pretty private. Only our closest circle knew. It wasn't that we were hiding it, but having a relationship in the spotlight of F1 could be… overwhelming. It allowed us to just be us without the pressure of prying eyes and the constant speculation from fans or media.

I was watching him goof off with Martin when I felt someone nudge me. I turned to see Max (Fewtrell) , one of Lando’s closest friends, grinning as he leaned over to speak, his voice barely audible over the music.

"He's having the time of his life up there, isn't he?" Max said with a chuckle, motioning toward Lando, who was pretending to DJ like a pro.

"He really is. I’m just waiting for him to mess something up.” I laughed, nodding.

Max laughed, his eyes scanning the dance floor before he leaned closer.

"You know, it’s funny—he never really used to like these kinds of nights before you."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah," Max nodded. "He’d always be the one leaving early, saying he had training or a race coming up. But ever since you guys started hanging out, he sticks around longer. Seems to enjoy it more. I think you’re a good influence on him."

"Maybe I’m just more fun than his training sessions." I smiled at the thought.

"Definitely more fun," Max teased, giving me a wink before heading off to join a few other friends.

I took another sip of my drink, feeling the warmth spread through me, both from the alcohol and Max’s words. I glanced back toward the DJ booth, catching Lando’s eye as he looked over at me, a playful grin on his face. He gave me a quick wink before returning to the music, his fingers moving over the controls like he knew exactly what he was doing.

It was then that I noticed a group of girls edging closer to him. One in particular seemed determined to get his attention, her phone already in hand, angling for a selfie or a picture with him. She was bold, stepping right up to him, bottle in hand, and attempting to take the one Lando was holding.

I watched as Lando paused, his smile fading slightly. He gently pushed her hand away, not rough, but firm enough to make his point. I could see him looking around, scanning the crowd until his eyes found mine. His expression softened immediately, and without hesitation, he motioned for me to come closer.

I could feel the girls' eyes on me as I made my way over. Their glances were sharp, the kind of looks that were meant to make you feel out of place, but I wasn’t about to let that ruin the night. Lando didn’t say a word when I reached him, just slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer, his body pressing against mine in a protective, almost possessive way.

"Hey," he whispered into my ear, his breath warm against my skin. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine."

"Good," he said, leaning in closer. "Because I want you right here with me."

He pulled me in even tighter, and I rested my head on his shoulder for a moment, letting the music and the energy of the club surround us. Lando kissed the top of my head, a small gesture, but one that made me feel like the only person in the room.

Just then, Martin leaned over, grinning at us.

"Oi, Lando! You better be careful up here, mate. You’re making her fall for you all over again!"

"That’s the plan, mate!" Lando laughed, his arm never leaving my waist.

"You’re such a dork." I rolled my eyes, playfully nudging him.

"But I’m your dork," he replied with a cheeky grin.

As the night wore on, we danced, laughed, and enjoyed every second. The crowd seemed to disappear, and it was just us, lost in our own little world. But every now and then, I’d catch one of the girls from earlier casting a glance our way, her lips curled in a smug smile as if she was waiting for me to crack under the pressure of being in Lando’s orbit.

It didn’t bother me, not really. Lando had always made sure I knew my place in his life. He wasn’t the type to flirt with random girls or let anyone come between us. But I couldn’t deny that the whispers, the glances, they got under my skin just a little.

After a while, Lando leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear. "You wanna get out of here?"

I nodded, grateful for the offer. The night had been fun, but I was ready for something quieter, something just for us.

"Yeah, let’s go."

He grabbed my hand, guiding me through the crowd, past the girls who had been eyeing us all night. One of them whispered something to her friend as we passed, but I didn’t catch it. I didn’t need to. The look on her face said enough.

As we stepped outside, the cool night air hit my skin, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Lando squeezed my hand, pulling me close.

"You okay?" he asked, concern flickering in his eyes.

I hesitated for a moment, debating whether to brush it off, but decided against it.

"It’s just… sometimes it’s hard being around people who don’t really get us, you know?"

Lando frowned, his thumb brushing gently over the back of my hand. "Did something happen inside?"

I shrugged, trying to downplay it. "It’s nothing, really. Just some girls being… well, girls."

"What did they say?" Lando stopped walking, turning to face me fully.

I shook my head, not wanting to make a big deal out of it.

"It’s not what they said, it’s just... their looks. Like they were waiting for me to mess up or something. I don’t know. I guess I’m not used to it."

Lando’s jaw tightened, his hand gripping mine a little harder.

"You know you don’t have to worry about that, right? I’m with you. Only you."

I smiled, touched by his words.

"I know. I just—sometimes it feels like I’m always being watched. Like I’m never enough."

Lando’s expression softened, and he pulled me into a tight embrace. "You’re more than enough. Don’t let anyone make you feel like you aren’t. Especially not them."

I hugged him back, feeling the warmth of his body against mine, and for the first time that night, I felt at ease. With Lando by my side, the whispers, the looks—they didn’t matter.

As we pulled apart, he leaned down and kissed me gently, his lips lingering on mine for just a moment longer than usual. When he pulled back, he grinned.

"Come on, let’s go home. I think we are going have a more fun night there."

"Yeah, let’s get out of here." I laughed softly, nodding in agreement.

And with that, hand in hand, we left the nightclub behind, ready to end the night our way—together.

[gilbertscurls]

Taste ➵ Matt Sturniolo

warnings: SMUT, virgin!matt, softdom!reader, unprotected p in v, heavy on praise and consent, oral!f!receiving, can't tell if it's cringe or not lmao

synopsis: on their first anniversary, y/n and matt finally decide to go all the way.

“I can't believe it's been a year already.” You let out a quiet sigh.

Matt nodded, the thought of their year together bringing a smile to his lips.

“Yeah. It feels like just yesterday we had our first date,” he said, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia.

He remembered every detail of that day, the way you looked, the way he'd been so nervous he felt like he might throw up. But he'd found the courage to ask you out, and you'd said yes. It felt like a dream come true.

Matt's gaze drifted from your face to the room around them. The soft, warm light of the lamp by the bed was casting shadows on the walls, the room cozy and intimate. The silence between them was comfortable, broken only by their soft breathing. Matt couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment, a feeling of being right where he belonged.

“I can't believe how lucky I am,” he murmured, his voice low. “To have you, I mean.”

“I'm the lucky one,” you whispered.

Matt chuckled softly at your words, his fingers still tangled in your hair.

“Oh, please,” he said, a hint of a smile in his voice. “I'm the one who gets to hold you like this, to call you mine. I think I won the lottery.”

You giggled, a sound that always made Matt's heart skip a beat.

“I can't argue with that,” you conceded. You snuggled closer to him, resting your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “But I get to hold you back, so we're even.”

Matt's hand moved to your back, gently tracing circles on your skin. The feel of you against him, the sound of your voice, was comforting and soothing, but it also stirred a different kind of feeling in him. A feeling of desire and longing.

“Yeah, I guess we are,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion.

He tightened his arm around you, pulling you even closer, his fingers tracing your spine. Matt's heart thrummed with anticipation. The fact that you've never done more than kiss had been on his mind a lot lately. He wanted you, more than he could say. And tonight felt different, special. It was their anniversary, a milestone in their relationship. A part of him ached to take things further, to show you how much he loved you. But his insecurities and anxieties held him back. What if he wasn't good enough? What if he disappointed you? The thought was terrifying.

“Baby,” he finally said, breaking the silence between them. He swallowed hard, his heart beating a little faster. “Can I ask you something?” His voice was nervous, and he was suddenly regretting asking you anything at all.

At his anxious tone, you knitted your brows and turned to face him. “Of course. What is it?”

Matt looked down at you, his thoughts a swirling mess of anxiety and desire. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. “It's… It's our anniversary,” he started, his voice a little shaky. “And I was wondering…”

He trailed off, the words failing him. He felt like a complete idiot. He'd never been good with expressing his desires, especially when it came to physical intimacy.

You gazed at him with a mixture of concern and curiosity. You could tell he was nervous, and it made you worry. You reached up, gently caressing his cheek. “Yes?” you prompted, your voice gentle and encouraging.

Matt's heart fluttered at your touch, and he took another deep breath, summoning his courage. “I was just… I was thinking…” he mumbled, his words barely more than a whisper. “Tonight, I was hoping we could… Take things further.”

He felt a blush rising up his cheeks, and he quickly looked away, suddenly unable to meet your gaze.

“Oh,” you said quietly. “Are you sure? Like, 100% sure?”

Matt nodded quickly, his heart hammering in his chest. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice trembling slightly. “I'm sure. I've been thinking about it for a while now. I… I want you, baby.”

Saying the words out loud sent a shockwave of adrenaline through him. It was exhilarating, terrifying, and wonderful all at once. But he knew he needed to be honest, to lay it all out on the table.

“I'm just... nervous,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I've never done anything more than kissing, and I don't… I don't know if I'll be any good.”

“It's okay,” you whispered, reaching up to caress his cheek. “But are you sure? I don't want you to do anything you'll regret.”

Matt leaned into your touch, the warmth and tenderness of your hand calming him down a little. But your words also made him pause. Was he sure? He desperately wanted this, wanted you. But his insecurities were still looming, a dark cloud in the back of his mind.

“I'm sure,” he replied, his eyes searching yours. “I want this. With you.”

“All right.” You nodded. “How… How far are we talking?”

Matt felt his cheeks flush even more, but he forced himself to keep eye contact with you. He appreciated your directness, and your willingness to talk about this openly.

“I, uh…” he began, his voice still a little shaky. “Everything, I guess. If you want that.”

He swallowed hard, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He hoped he wasn't pressuring you or coming on too strong.

You felt your heart skipping a beat and heat already pooling in your lower abdomen. “I do,” you said softly. “But I want to make sure you're completely comfortable.”

Hearing your confirmation sent a pang of excitement through Matt. He felt a mix of emotions, desire, affection, and a hint of fear. But overruling it all was a deep sense of trust. Your words, your reassurance, it was all he needed.

“I am,” he said, his voice a little steadier now. “I trust you, baby. Completely.”

A small, tender smile crept onto your face. “Okay.” Your voice was so soft, so sweet, so kind. “Do you… Want me to take the lead?”

Matt's heart leaped at your question, a mix of relief and desire coursing through him. The idea of you taking control was both frightening and exciting. He hesitated for a moment, but then he nodded, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Yes,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “I… I want you to take the lead.”

You put one of your hands on his cheek before slowly and gently pressing your lips against his.

Matt's heart skipped a beat at the feel of your lips on his. He'd kissed you countless times before, but this kiss felt different, more intimate. He let out a soft sigh against your mouth, all his anxieties and worries melting away as your touch filled his senses. He brought his own hands up to cup your face, his fingers gently tracing your jaw, his touch soft and reverent.

The kiss deepened, their mouths moving against each other in a slow, languorous dance. Matt could feel the heat pooling in his stomach, the desire for you growing with every passing second. The fear was still there, but it was muffled by the overwhelming sensation of pleasure. He pulled you closer, his hands moving to your hips, his fingers pressing into your skin.

Not stopping the kiss, You moved to straddle his lap, your knees on both sides of his thighs.

Matt felt a shiver run down his spine as you straddled him, your body suddenly so close and so warm. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you even closer, their bodies now pressed together in a way you’ve never been before. The feeling of your weight on his lap ignited a new wave of desire in him, his kisses growing even more intense. He wanted you, desperately.

“You okay?” you mumbled into his lips.

Matt's breath caught in his throat as you spoke, the feeling of your words more like breath than a sound. He couldn't even form a response, his mind completely consumed by your touch and the taste of your lips. He managed a nod, a weak yes whispered against your mouth. He was more than okay. He was on fire.

Matt groaned involuntarily at the feel of your tongue against his lip, the sound more a mixture of pleasure and need than anything else. He immediately parted his lips, granting you access without a second thought. His hands moved to your thighs, his fingers gripping your flesh as he opened his mouth to her.

The kiss grew hungrier, more urgent. Their tongues tangled together, exploring each other without restraint. Matt was lost in the sensation, in the feeling of you in his lap, your body pressed against him. He could hardly think straight, his mind clouded by desire and need. His hips involuntarily bucked slightly, seeking more contact.

“Impatient, huh?” You teased softly, pulling away a little.

Matt let out a low growl of frustration as you pulled away, a mix of desire and irritation in his expression. He was getting so lost in the moment, he was aching for more. Your words, your tease only heightened his need.

“Baby…” he breathed, his voice a mixture of pleading and impatience. “Don't tease me.”

You smiled tenderly before grabbing his both hands and sliding them under your crop top, urging him to take it off.

Matt let out a sharp breath at the feel of your skin under his hands, your top soft and warm. Without hesitation, he moved his hands slowly up your stomach, his fingers exploring the planes of your skin as he helped you pull off your crop top. It fell to the floor, forgotten. His eyes went wide at the sight of your half-naked upper body, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Oh God,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire.

Matt couldn't have looked away even if he'd wanted to. His eyes were drawn to your chest, his breath hitching at the sight. It was as if his brain was shorting out, his desire for you overwhelming everything else. He felt a mix of awe, arousal, and a hint of nervousness. He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly very dry.

“You're… You're so beautiful,” he managed to whisper, his voice thick with want.

You smiled softly, your fingertips tracing his shoulders over the t-shirt. “Can I take it off, baby?”

Matt's muscles twitched under your touch, your words sending a shudder down his spine.

“Yes,” he breathed, his voice a little shaky. “Please.”

He wanted to feel your skin on his, the touch of your fingers on his bare chest. He raised his arms to help you as you tugged his t-shirt over his head, discarding it to the side.

Matt's muscles twitched under your touch, your words sending a shudder down his spine. “Yes,” he breathed, his voice a little shaky. “Please.”

He wanted to feel your skin on his, the touch of your fingers on his bare chest. He raised his arms to help you as you tugged his t-shirt over his head, discarding it to the side.

Once the shirt was off, his chest was now bare, exposed to your touch and gaze. Matt felt a mixture of vulnerability and excitement, his heart beating fast in his chest. He could feel your eyes on him, your fingers tracing soft patterns on his skin. He wanted you, all of you.

“Baby,” he murmured, his voice ragged with need. “Touch me.”

Obediently, You ran your fingertips through his shoulders, to his arms, to his chest. “God, you're so beautiful,” you whispered breathlessly.

Matt's breath caught in his throat as your fingers glided over his skin, your touch leaving trails of fire in its wake. He shivered under your touch, a small moan escaping his lips. Your words, your voice, your touch — it was all almost too much to bear.

“No, you are,” he breathed, his own hands moving to your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. "So beautiful. So perfect."

You were doing everything so slowly and gently, knowing that he'd never done anything like that before. You wanted to make it so good for him. Matt was both grateful and frustrated by your slow and gentle pace. Grateful that you were so patient, and so understanding, but frustrated because he just wanted more. He wanted to be consumed by you, to lose himself in your touch. But he knew you were doing it for his sake, to make it easier for him, and that only made him love you more.

“Baby,” he gasped, his voice pleading. “Please. More. I need more.”

You smirked before leaning a little closer to his face. “You want more?”

Matt looked at you, his eyes dark with desire, his expression a mixture of need and pleading.

“Yes,” he whispered, his voice a little breathless. “I want more. I want all of you.”

He reached up to you, his hands skimming up your sides, his touch firm and possessive. He wanted to touch you, to feel you, to lose himself in you.

“Please,” he added, his voice a low, desperate plea.

You held his face as you kissed him once again, the kiss sweet and full of emotion.

Matt returned the kiss hungrily, his lips moving against yours with a mix of desperation and affection. He couldn't get close enough to you, his hands roaming over your bare skin, wanting to feel you, to touch you everywhere. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth with a new, more urgent fervor. He could feel his desire for you growing, overpowering everything else.

“Baby…” he breathed into your mouth. “Please, I… I need you.”

Matt swore, his head falling back on the pillow as you ground your hips with his. The feel of you grinding against him, the friction, the heat, and the pressure — it was almost too much. He gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, trying to pull you closer, to increase the contact. A low moan escaped his lips, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Oh God,” he panted, his eyes squeezed shut. “Baby… That feels… That feels so good.”

“You sound so pretty,” you praised breathlessly.

Matt blushed at your words, his heart fluttering at your praise. He let out another soft moan as you rode against him, his body responding instinctively. He was completely lost in the sensation, the feel of your body against his driving him mindless. He tried to form words, to respond, but all that came out was another low groan.

“God… Baby,” he breathed, his hands still holding onto your hips. “Don't… Don't stop.”

His body was on fire, his every nerve alive with desire. He could feel his own hardness growing beneath you, a testament to how much he needed you. His hips canted upward, seeking more contact, wanting to be closer, closer, closer. He opened his eyes, looking up at you, his gaze filled with a mix of want and awe.

“Sweetheart… I… I don't know how much… How much longer I can last,” he whispered, his voice thick with need.

“It's okay, baby,” you cooed, halting your movements.

Matt let out a small, involuntarily whine as you stopped moving, his body protesting the lack of sensation. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire and frustration, but also with a hint of relief. He was so close to the edge, he didn't know how much longer he could hold on.

“I… I thought you would keep going,” he breathed, his voice a combination of disappointment and need.

“Patience, sweetheart,” you teased, your hand running down his chest, from his shoulder to his happy trail, before finally resting on the buckle of his belt.

Matt's breath hitched at your touch, your hand igniting a trail of fire on his skin. He watched as your hand moved down his chest, down his stomach, to the buckle of his belt. A wave of heat washed over him, making his entire body shiver with anticipation.

“Patience,” he echoed, his voice a rough whisper. “You're… You're killing me.”

You gently hooked your finger under the belt. “Can I?”

Matt nodded, his eyes locked on yours, his breathing shallow and ragged. He trusted you completely and wanted you to take whatever you needed from him. “Yes,” he whispered, his voice thick with need. “Do whatever you want. I'm all yours.”

“So good for me,” you praised before expertly unbuckling his belt and tugging his jeans down.

Matt's heart leaped at your praise, a sense of pride and satisfaction filling him. He lifted his hips slightly, helping you pull his jeans down. He was now only in his boxer briefs, the material doing little to conceal his arousal. He was completely exposed, both physically and emotionally, and he could do nothing but lay there and look up at you, his desire for you burning in his gaze.

“Only for you,” he whispered, his voice a quiet admission.

“Already so worked up for me, huh?” you asked breathlessly, a small smile on your face.

Matt blushed at your comment, the heat spreading across his cheeks. He could feel the evidence of his arousal straining against the fabric of his boxer briefs. He was so worked up, so needy, so desperate for your touch. He swallowed hard, his voice husky and raw.

“Yeah,” he breathed, his eyes fixed on yours. “Only for you. I want you so badly, sweetheart.”

You sat back on his lap, caressing his cheek. “You want to try to take off my bra, baby?”

Matt's eyes widened at your suggestion, a mix of excitement and anxiety washing over him. He'd never taken off a bra before, and he was suddenly unsure of himself. He swallowed hard, his throat dry.

“Yes,” he rasped, his voice betraying his nervousness. “I… I want to try.”

His hands moved to your back, his fingers trembling slightly as he reached for the clasp of your bra. He tried to steady his breathing, but his heart was racing, his mind a jumble of thoughts and feelings.

“I… I'll probably be bad at this,” he admitted, his voice a hesitant whisper.

“It's okay,” you assured him softly. “I don't mind.”

Matt nodded, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He fumbled with the clasp for a few seconds, his fingers feeling both clumsy and inadequate. But finally, with a soft click, the bra came undone. The cups fell loose, revealing your bare chest to him. He stared at you for a moment, his eyes wide, his breath caught in his throat.

“Oh… Wow,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and desire.

You smiled a little sheepishly.

Matt's eyes drank you in, every inch of your beautiful skin, every curve and contour. His hands were itching to touch you, to feel your flesh under his fingertips.

“You are… You are so exquisite,” he breathed, his voice filled with a mixture of wonder and admiration. “You take my breath away.”

Noticing his hands twitching, your smile softened. “You can touch me.”

Matt couldn't believe you were actually giving him permission to touch you, to touch this beautiful woman who was willingly sitting on his lap, your body bare for him. He lifted his hands, his fingers hovering slightly above your skin.

“I… I want to,” he breathed, his voice a shaky whisper. He wanted to feel you so badly, but he was also afraid of doing something wrong, of upsetting you in some way. “Are you… Are you sure it's okay?”

“I am. Don't think so much. Just… Feel.”

Matt took a deep breath, allowing the words to sink in. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting go of the nagging thoughts and doubts in his mind. When he opened them again, his gaze was clear, his expression relaxed.

And then he touched you.

His fingers skimmed lightly over your skin, slowly, delicately, exploring the soft planes of your chest. A shiver ran through him as he felt the heat of your flesh, the suppleness of your skin.

“God, you're so soft,” he whispered.

Sensing that he was still holding back, You smiled softly and grabbed his hand, putting it directly on your breast, and gently squeezing his fingers.

Matt gasped, his breath hitching in his throat as your hand guided his. The feeling of your flesh, your breast, under his palm was almost too much. It was so soft, so warm. He could feel your heart beating rapidly under his fingers. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Oh God,” he breathed, his voice hoarse. “This… This feels… Incredible.”

His fingers traced a slow, tentative path over your breast, his touch firm but gentle. He could feel your own heart hammering against his palm, a perfect rhythm. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and full of desire.

“Is… Is this okay?” he breathed, his voice a low, raspy whisper. “I don't want to hurt you.”

“It's okay,” you assured him softly. “I'll tell you if anything. Just… Touch me.”

Matt nodded tightly, the lump in his throat suddenly replaced by a wave of desire and need. He took your words to heart, letting go of any lingering doubt or fear. He allowed himself to really touch you, to move his fingers over your skin, to feel the contours of your body.

His other hand moved up to your other breast, gently kneading it in his palm. “Is… Is this good?” he whispered, his voice almost inaudible over the sound of his own heartbeat. “You feel… So perfect, so soft.”

You let out a shaky breath. “So good.”

Matt felt a sense of power and satisfaction wash over him, emboldening him. He could feel your breath catching in your chest, hear the hitch in your voice. He knew he was doing something right, something that made you feel good. He continued to caress you, his touch becoming more confident, more sure of itself.

His breath felt hot and heavy, his heart hammering against his ribcage. “Can I… Can I kiss these, too?” he asked, his voice thick with desire.

You felt a sudden rush of so much love for this boy. “Of course. Anything you want.”

Matt's heart soared at your permission, at the way you were giving yourself to him so completely. You were so wonderful, so understanding. He leaned forward, his lips coming to rest on your breast, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. He was gentle at first, his touch light and tentative. But then he began to kiss you more firmly, more hungrily.

And then, a moan of his name escaped your lips.

Matt's heart leaped at the sound of your moan, the way you said his name. It was like music to his ears. He pulled back slightly, looking up at you with a mixture of awe and desire.

“Did… Did I do something right?” he asked, his voice breathless and shaky. “The way you said my name… It sounded… It sounded like it felt good, like you liked it.”

“You're doing… Incredible,” you whispered breathlessly.

Matt felt a surge of pride and satisfaction coursing through him. He couldn't believe this was actually happening, that he was pleasuring this incredible woman, making you feel this way. But the knowledge that he was pleasing you, making you moan and breathless, only fueled his own desire, his own need for you.

He continued to kiss you, his mouth moving across your chest, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. “More,” he murmured, his voice low and ragged. “Can I… Can I do more?”

“Anything.”

Matt felt a wave of heat and adrenaline wash over him at your word, your permission. Anything? The possibilities, the desires, raced through his mind. He wanted to explore you, to touch you, to make you feel things you'd never felt before.

His mouth moved down your body, his tongue tracing a path down your sternum, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along your stomach. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and full of need. “Can I… Can I taste you?”

You pulled yourself up on your elbows to look at him. He looked so pretty, looking up at you from between your thighs. But it was his first time, and you wanted to make it special do him. “Are you sure? I want it to be about you. You don't have to…”

Matt paused, looking up at you. Your concern for him, your consideration, made his heart swell. He could feel your gaze on him, warm and gentle. He knew you would never force him to do something he wasn't ready for. But he could also feel his own desire burning beneath the surface.

He nodded, his voice steady and sure. “I'm sure,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving yours. “I… I want to. I want to taste you. I want to please you… If you're okay with that.”

You nodded shakily, before bunching up the fabric of your skirt in your hands, pulling it down and revealing your little lacy panties.

Matt's eyes widened at the sight before him. Your panties were a beautiful lace, delicate and feminine. He could feel his mouth go dry, his heart quickening in his chest. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with an almost reverent awe.

His hands tentatively moved up from your thighs, tracing gentle patterns on your bare skin as they crept closer to your panties. “You're so beautiful,” he breathed, his voice laced with need and desire.

He leaned forward, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. His hands were still tracing feather-light patterns on your thighs, but he was now just millimeters away from your underwear. His heart was hammering, his mind a cacophony of emotions and sensations. “May I… May I touch you there?” he asked, his voice thick with desire.

“Please,” you whispered breathlessly, your chest already heaving.

Matt didn't need to be told twice. With a mixture of nerves and confidence, he let his fingers graze across the fabric of your panties, just touching the soft material. He could feel the heat radiating from you, the moisture already seeping through. He swallowed hard, his own body responding to the feel of you.

His gaze flicked up to your eyes momentarily, seeking reassurance, before returning to his task. “Is… Is this right?” he whispered, his voice a little shaky.

“Yes,” you whispered breathlessly. “Perfect.”

Matt felt a rush of relief and satisfaction at your words. He was doing well, making you feel good. He continued to touch you, to move his fingers across the fabric of your panties, feeling the heat and the dampness beneath.

As his touch grew more confident, more assured, he found himself getting more and more excited. His own breathing grew shaky, his heart racing. “Can… Can I do more?” he breathed, his voice slightly hoarse.

“Whatever you want,” you mewled. “I'll tell you if anything.”

Matt's heart fluttered at your response. The trust, the permission, it was almost too good to be true. He looked up at you, his eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. But all he found was love, desire, and a willingness to explore.

He took a breath, trying to steady himself. “Okay,” he whispered, his voice a little shaky. He moved his fingers down to the edge of your panties, toying with the thin strip of fabric. “I… I want to touch you without these in the way…”

He paused, waiting for your permission. He was already so close, already feeling the heat and dampness of your through the thin fabric, but he wouldn't do anything you weren’t comfortable with. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with desire but laced with the need for your approval.

You nodded. “Do whatever you want.”

Matt felt a shudder run through him at your words. Your permission, your trust in him, it was like fuel for the fire that was burning within him. He gently pulled at your panties, guiding them down your legs, discarding them on the floor.

The sight of you, bare and fully exposed to him, was almost too much. His breath caught in his throat, and he had to force himself to swallow the lump that had suddenly formed. His fingers itched to touch you, to feel the smoothness and heat of your skin, but he waited, looking up for your nod of approval.

When you gave it, he moved quickly. His fingers traced a path up your thighs, moving closer and closer to your core. His own breathing was ragged, his heart pounding in his chest, and he struggled to keep his hands from shaking as they got closer and closer to the most intimate part.

His fingers grazed over your skin, feeling the heat radiating off of you. He could feel the wetness there, the evidence of your arousal, and he couldn't help but shudder. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and hungry, his tongue flicking out to moisten his suddenly dry lips.

“You're… You're so wet,” he whispered, the words barely escaping his lips.

Your breath hitched. “Only for you.”

His heart leaped at hearing your words, at the idea that he was the only cause of your arousal. He could feel the power and the responsibility that came with it, and it only stoked the fire within him.

His fingers were now tracing gentle circles around your entrance, his touch light and tentative. He couldn't believe he was doing this, touching you this way. “Can… Can I… Can I put a finger inside?” he asked, his voice shaky.

“Yeah,” you whispered shakily. “Please.”

Matt could feel his breath catch in his chest at your words, at the desire in your voice. His whole body was trembling, almost overwhelmed by the enormity of the moment. He nodded, swallowing hard, his eyes fixed on you.

He gently, carefully, eased a single finger inside, a choked gasp escaping his lips as he felt your warmth and wetness around him. As he moved his finger, You suddenly let out a gasp.

Matt was instantly worried, his finger freezing in place. “Did… Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice full of concern. He looked up at you, his eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort.

“N-No, it's just…” Your face flushed. “Your fingers are longer than what I'm used to.”

Matt felt a sudden rush of pride at your words, his chest swelling. He had to admit, he'd always been a bit self-conscious about his long thin fingers. But the idea that they were causing her pleasure, that they were giving her a feeling you weren’t used to, that felt incredible.

He curled his finger slightly, exploring your depth. “Is… Is this okay…?”

Your breath hitched as he reached that one spot, and you almost screamed out loud. “Oh my…”

Matt was surprised by your reaction, the sound you made nearly sending him over the edge. But he was determined to make you feel good, to make you feel better than you'd ever felt before.

He kept his finger where it was, gently applying pressure to that one spot, a smirk on his face. “Is this the right spot, hm?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Matt,” you mumbled in pleasure.

Matt couldn't help but smile at your reaction, at the way you responded to his touch. He couldn't believe he was doing this to you, causing you to feel these things. And he couldn't resist the urge to tease you a little bit.

“Is that a yes?” he asked, his voice low and dripping with barely restrained desire.

“Add a second finger,” you instructed him softly. “And try to move them, curling them to hit that spot.”

At your instructions, Matt felt another wave of arousal wash over him. You were telling him what to do. You were guiding him, showing him how to please you. It was a new experience, but one he was more than happy to explore.

He obeyed, slowly adding a second finger to the first. The feeling was tighter, but also warmer. He began to move his fingers, just as you'd told him to.

The angle was a little clumsy at first, but then he felt that one spot, and he applied gentle pressure, curling his fingers at just the right angle. “Like…” he started, his voice a little breathless. “… like this?”

“Oh fuck…” you moaned, your back arching a little in pleasure.

Matt found himself breathing harder at the sight of you arching your back, at the way you were responding to his touch. He knew he was doing something right, and it only fueled his desire to please you more, to make you feel even better.

“Is… Is this good?” he asked, his voice a little shaky. “Does this feel good?”

“So good, fuck, so good…”

Matt's heart was racing, his breath coming in heavy pants. He loved hearing your praise, and the way you reacted to his touch. It was something he'd never felt before, and he wanted more, wanted to make you feel even better.

He kept his fingers moving and applying pressure, his gaze darting up to your face, watching your expressions. “I want you… I want you to feel… To feel so good,” he murmured, his voice a mixture of breathless and earnest.

Your noises of pleasure, your arches, and your moans, it was all driving him wild. He wanted to make you fall apart, to make you forget everything but him and whatever he was doing to you.

“You… You want to try to use your mouth?” you asked breathlessly in between the moans.

Matt's heart quickened at your request. He'd wanted to do that, too, but he hadn't been sure if you'd be okay with it. But now that you'd asked, he was more than happy to comply.

“Yes,” he responded, his voice hoarse with desire. “I… I want to. I want to taste you, too.”

He gently withdrew his fingers and slowly moved further down your body, his heart thudding in his chest. He settled between your legs, looking up at you as his breath came in hot, uneven pants against you.

As he tasted you, as he felt you against his lips, his tongue, his mind was overwhelmed. He hadn't expected this, but it was better than he'd ever imagined. You tasted sweet and tangy, and it only spurred him on.

He forgot about feeling out of his depth, he forgot about potential mistakes or awkward moments. All he wanted to do was pleasure you, to make you feel good. His tongue moved and explored, and his eyes fluttered up at you. He'd never seen you so undone, so lost in pleasure, and the knowledge that he was causing it only deepened his desire to please you more.

“God, you're so good at that,” you breathed out shakily.

Matt felt a wave of pride and pleasure wash over him at your words. He continued, his tongue moving over you, his lips applying gentle suction. Hearing your approval, feeling you respond beneath him, was intoxicating. But he was relentless, determined to bring you to the brink, to make you lose control completely.

His hands moved up, gently caressing your thighs and stomach, seeking to give you even more pleasure. He wanted you to feel good, to feel loved, to feel worshipped.

And eventually, your moans got even louder as you released on his mouth, his name on your lips like a prayer. Matt could feel your body shaking, could hear your voice as you cried out his name. It was a moment he knew he'd never forget, a moment that would be ingrained in his memory forever.

He slowly withdrew, crawling back up beside you. He couldn't seem to find his voice, his heart still hammering in his chest.

He was a little amazed at himself, too, he had to admit. He hadn't been entirely sure what he was doing, but he'd just seemed to know. He'd found a way to bring you pleasure, to send you over the edge, to make you sing his name like a song.

He found his voice again, his voice low, rough. “Was that… Was that good for you? Was I okay?” His heart was still beating fast, his body thrumming with a mix of adrenaline and pleasure.

“God, you're… You're unreal,” you panted out.

Matt couldn't help but smile at your words, the praise fueling his ego. “I… I am?” he asked, unable to hide the slight tone of smugness in his voice. He knew he should feel more humbled, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride.

He reached out, gently tracing random patterns on your bare stomach as you caught your breath. “I just… I wanted to make you feel good,” he said softly.

When you came down from your high, you sat up to rest their foreheads against each other. “Are you sure you're ready?”

Matt's heart raced as you asked the question, his mind suddenly flooded with thoughts and worries. Was he ready? He had wanted this, more than anything, but now that the moment was here, he felt a twinge of fear.

He looked into your eyes, searching for reassurance. But all he saw was love, desire, and a willingness to wait if he wasn't ready yet.

He nodded, taking a shaky breath. “Yes,” he murmured. “I'm ready.”

In response, you locked their lips in a passionate kiss, one full of love.

Matt responded eagerly, his body pressing against yours as their mouths met in a passionate kiss. Every thought, every fear, was pushed aside in that moment. All that mattered was you, your breath, your lips, your bodies.

His hands found their way into your hair, tangling in the soft strands, holding you close. He poured all of his feelings, all of his desires into the kiss, his heart hammering in his chest.

Matt's breath caught in his throat as he felt your fingers slide under the waistband of his boxers, the sensation causing a shudder to run through his body. He'd been on edge ever since you'd started, his desire already at a fever pitch. But your touch, your gentle caress, only served to drive him wild.

He pulled back from the kiss to murmur against your mouth. “Please…” he whispered, his voice ragged and pleading. “Please, don't tease me anymore. I can't take it.”

You let out a shaky groan before pulling his boxers down, seeing him fully exposed for the first time. You took a moment to really take him in, your eyes full of awe and love.

Matt's cheeks burned under your gaze, feeling suddenly very exposed and vulnerable. He'd never been looked at this way before, never felt this vulnerable. But he also felt a wave of affection at the awe and love he saw in your eyes.

He met your gaze, his own eyes full of a mixture of desire and trepidation. “Is… Is it okay?” he asked softly, his voice betraying a hint of insecurity.

“You're so beautiful,” you praised breathlessly. “So perfect.”

Matt felt his heart soar at your words, the insecurities fading away and being replaced with a wave of intense love. No one had ever called him beautiful before, and certainly not perfect. He'd always felt a bit too thin, too gangly, too nerdy. But to you, he was beautiful, perfect.

He drew in a shaky breath, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “So are you,” he murmured. “Perfect, I mean.”

You reached to gently caress his cheek. “Sit up against the headboard for me.”

At your request, Matt obeyed, sitting up and leaning back against the headboard. He felt bare and exposed, but he trusted you and knew that you wouldn't do anything to make him feel uncomfortable.

His gaze met yours, his heart beating fast in his chest. “Like this?” he asked, his voice a little breathless.

“Perfect,” you praised before straddling his lap once again.

Matt's breath caught in his throat as you straddled him, your body pressing against his in all the right places. His hands found your hips, his fingers gently gripping them, as if he needed something to anchor himself.

His eyes roamed over your body, appreciating every curve and contour, before coming back up to meet your gaze. “You… You look amazing,” he breathed, his voice a little huskier than usual.

The corner of your lips went up as you rested your forehead against his, just looking into his eyes for a few moments. You were so close now, the heat and electricity between them palpable. Matt found himself getting lost in your eyes, feeling a sense of calm and understanding wash over him. He could feel your breath against his lips, your body pressed against his, and it was almost too much to bear.

He reached up a hand, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers feather-light against your skin. “I… I love you,” he whispered, the words coming out almost involuntarily.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, and your eyes reflected just how much.

Matt felt your words wash over him, the depth and sincerity of your love sending a shiver down his spine. He'd always known you loved him, but hearing you say it, seeing it in your eyes… It was as if all his fears and doubts vanished completely.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the words sink in, letting himself bask in your love. Then, his eyes opened again, his gaze intense, and he wrapped his arms more securely around your waist. “Show me,” he whispered. “Show me how much you love me.”

“You ready?” you made sure quietly.

Matt felt a flutter of nerves mix with the desire he was feeling, but he nodded, his hands gripping your hips a little tighter. “Yes,” he breathed in response, his voice a little shaky. “I… I'm ready.”

“If anything… Just tell me, and we can stop,” you promised.

Matt nodded again, appreciating your thoughtfulness. “I will,” he assured you. “But please… Please don't stop unless I say so.”

He drew you closer, his hands sliding up to your back, gently tracing the line of your spine. “I… I want this. I want you,” he murmured, his voice a low, earnest plea.

Matt shivered slightly as your hand moved over his chest, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His heart was beating hard, his breath coming in shaky gasps. He'd never felt this alive before, this on edge, this desperate for your touch.

His eyes tracked your hand as it moved, a small, helpless noise escaping his lips. He knew what was coming, and he was aching for it.

Finally, your hand wrapped around him, giving him a few slow pumps. Your touch was like a spark to a flame, igniting a fire within him that he hadn't known was possible. He groaned, his head falling back against the headboard, his eyes squeezing shut as the sensations washed over him.

His hips involuntarily arched into your touch, his hands gripping your hips a little tighter.

“Oh… Oh God, that feels…” he gasped, his voice choked. “That feels so good,” he managed to stutter out, his words a raw expression of pleasure.

The feeling of your hand on him was overwhelming, unlike anything he'd ever experienced. He could feel his body tensing and relaxing instinctively.

You positioned yourself above him, and you looked him in the eyes as if to ask for one last permission.

Matt's heart thudded in his chest as he looked into your eyes. He knew what was about to happen, and he wanted it, more than anything. He didn't want you to stop, he wanted you, all of you.

He nodded, his voice unsteady as he spoke. “Please,” he whispered, his breath ragged. “Please, don't stop.”

And then, you slowly started to sink down. The sensation was almost too much for Matt. It was like a wave of pleasure and heat overwhelming his entire body. He let out a low, guttural moan as you slowly sank down, inch by agonizing inch.

He clung to you, his hands gripping your hips with an almost bruising force. His eyes were squeezed shut, his lips parted as he panted for breath. “Oh… Oh God,” he managed to say, the words a messy, incoherent jumble.

His mind was reeling, every thought driven out by the sheer intensity of the feeling. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced before, like nothing he could have imagined. You were warm, tight, and completely surrounding him, and it was everything.

He knew he was probably being too rough, too loud, but he couldn't help it. He was utterly lost in the sensations, losing himself in you. He was yours, totally and completely, and he loved every moment.

As you bottomed out, you rested your hands on his shoulders for support. “You okay, baby?”

Matt was trying to form words, to give some sort of response, but all he could manage was a series of ragged breaths and a nod. He was trying to ground himself, to stay in control, but it was nearly impossible.

He managed to open his eyes, his gaze meeting yours. “I… I'm… I'm okay,” he gasped out, his voice thick with pleasure. “Just… Just give me a second, please.”

You felt incredible around him, almost too good. He needed a moment to adjust, to find some sort of equilibrium, or he knew he'd lose himself completely.

He forced himself to take a few deep breaths, his heart hammering in his chest as he tried to steady himself. “You… You feel so… So good," he managed to get out between ragged breaths. He was struggling to find his voice, to express how he was feeling. “Just… Just give me a moment, please…”

“Of course. Take all the time you need,” you whispered, your hand gently caressing his cheek.

Your touch was like a soothing balm on his over-stimulated body. He closed his eyes and leaned into your hand, drawing in a shaky breath. He focused on the feeling of your fingers on his skin, your body surrounding him, anchoring himself to you. Slowly, the overwhelming sensations began to recede, replaced by a calmer, more controlled sense of pleasure.

He opened his eyes again, his gaze meeting yours. “I'm… I'm okay now,” he murmured. “You can... you can move now.”

You leaned in to press your lips against his before slowly starting to move your hips.

The feeling of your lips on his was like a jolt through his system, reigniting the fire that had been momentarily banked. He responded eagerly, his mouth moving against yours, his tongue caressing yours with an urgent need.

And then there was the movement of your hips. It was a gentle, careful circling motion, bringing him closer and closer to oblivion. Matt let out a guttural moan, his hands gripping your hips even tighter.

It was all too much, but he couldn't get enough of it. He felt like he was drowning in you, lost in the sensations of your body, your touch, your scent. He knew he was being loud, almost embarrassingly so, but he couldn't help it. He was completely yours, completely lost in you.

“Does that feel good, baby?” You asked breathlessly.

Matt could barely respond, too lost in the pleasure to string coherent words together. All he could do was nod, his voice choked off by a moan that tore its way from his throat.

He tried to form words, to tell you how good it felt, how incredible you were, but all that came out was a ragged gasp. “Y-yeah,” he managed to stutter out eventually, his voice hoarse. “Feels… Feels so good…”

You pressed their foreheads together before starting to move a little faster, moans escaping your own lips.

The change in speed made Matt's head spin. He felt like he was on the edge of an abyss, his body tensing and coiling with each move of your hips. He was a tangle of sensations, pleasure, need, and love, all swirling together.

He kept his eyes open, locking them with yours. Your moans, your ragged breaths, only amplified the sensations. He knew he was close, too close, but he didn't want it to end.

His hands left your hips, moving up to cradle your face in his hands. He needed to touch you, to feel your skin under his fingers, to hold onto you as he rode the wave of pleasure higher and higher.

“I… I'm close… I'm gonna… Oh God, I'm…”

You understood exactly what he meant, the urgency in his tone clear. Your movements became faster and more purposeful, pushing them both closer to the edge.

“I know, baby,” you whispered, your breath hot against his ear. “I know. Just let go. I've got you.”

Your words sent a shiver down his spine, the mixture of love and reassurance hitting him right in the chest. He wanted to hold on, to make this last as long as possible, but he knew it was impossible. He was on the edge, teetering on the brink of ecstasy.

“Baby…” he gasped, his voice thin and needy. “I… I'm… Oh God, I'm… I'm…”

He couldn't say the words, couldn't form the warning. All he could do was shiver as his body went rigid, waves of pleasure washing over him. He held onto you, his fingers digging into your flesh, as he rode out the aftershocks.

At the sensation of him releasing deep inside of you, you reached your climax as well, your back arching, and you let out a loud cry of his name. He felt you clenching around him, your own release as you cried out his name, and it was too much. He felt like he was being lifted into ecstasy, drowning in the sensations that swamped his body.

His hands moved to wrap around you, holding you close, feeling the tremors run through your body. He buried his face in the curve of your neck, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. “Oh God… Oh God…” he managed to say.

“I… I've never… That was…”

He couldn't complete a sentence, his mind reeling from the intensity of it all. He held onto you, feeling the rapid throb of your heartbeat against his chest, the heat of your skin against his, and the sweat that had gathered on both their bodies.

After You finally caught your breath, you looked at him, still straddling him, as you ran your hand through his hair. “Are you okay, baby?”

Matt was still reeling, his body trembling slightly from the force of his orgasm. He leaned into your touch, his eyes meeting yours.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse and raw. “I'm… I'm okay. I just… I need a minute. That was… Wow.”

“You were perfect,” you said softly before lifting yourself from him and falling onto the bed next to him.

He chuckled weakly, still struggling to catch his breath. “Perfect, huh? I'm pretty sure I yelled louder than you did. I think the whole neighborhood heard me,” he teased, half-joking and half-not.

You chuckled breathlessly. Matt, however, could only stare in wonder at how his seed was leaking out of you.

Matt couldn't tear his gaze away, his eyes fixed on the sight in front of him. He had never seen anything so intimate, so erotic. Without thinking, he reached out, his fingers tracing the trail of his release dribbling down your skin.

“God, you're so beautiful,” he whispered. “And I… I made a mess of you.”

Your breath hitched as he touched you, still oversensitive, but you didn't protest. He touched you delicately, his touch light and hesitant, as if he was scared to break the fragile moment. His gaze was filled with a mixture of awe and desire, staring at the evidence of what you have just shared.

“You… You look even more beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. “Like I've marked you as mine.”

“I am yours,” you whispered.

The words sent a wave of possessiveness through him. “Mine,” he repeated, his voice almost a possessive growl. “All mine.”

He leaned in, pressing feather-light kisses along your jawline, his hands tracing aimless patterns on your skin. “I don't want anyone else seeing you like this," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “I don't want anyone else touching you like I do. You're mine.”

He continued to mark your skin with kisses, his mouth moving along the length of your neck and down to your collarbone. He wanted to keep you like this forever, covered in his marks, in his scent. He knew he was being selfish, but he didn't care. You were his, and he wanted the world to know it.

You let out a soft sigh, your fingers tangling into his hair.

The feel of your fingers in his hair only served to make him more possessive. He continued to kiss and nip at your skin, leaving a trail of love bites down your neck and chest.

“Mine,” he repeated, his voice almost a mantra. He wanted to keep saying it, as if by repeating it, he could make it more true. “All mine.”

“So… I take that I made your first time good?” you asked, a little jokingly.

Matt chuckled huskily, leaning back just enough to look into your eyes. “Good is an understatement,” he said, his voice still rough with desire. “That was… Mind-blowing. Life-changing.”

He paused, his gaze roaming over your body again, taking in the sight of you covered in his marks. “I think you ruined me for anyone else.”

“Well, I sure hope so,” you murmured before kissing him again.

He responded immediately, his mouth moving against yours with a desperate, needy hunger. He rolled you onto your back, pinning you beneath him, continuing the kiss with a fervor. He didn't want this moment to end, he wanted to revel in the feeling of your body under his, the taste of your mouth, the scent of your skin.

Between kisses, he managed to mutter, “You're the only one. The only one I'll ever need.”

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re

[11rosebunny]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬 (𝐁𝐎𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍 + 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐍)

content: f!reader. fluff. togame being an asshole per usual…

word count: 2045

Haruka Sakura

You two were simply at his house for a small hangout, it wasn't anything too special after you both started dating. You've grown accustomed to going over to his apartment and just being in the same room together.

So when you slip on one of his plain white shirts, he knows immediately that it's his because he doesn't own many coloured shirts like you do. He lost his mind.

The sight of you in his floor bed with his shirt.

Right away, he'll question you, "Is that my shirt?" As blush creeps up on his cheeks.

You answer "Yes." Without much thought but in his head, he was going crazy.

He tries to act like it's nothing and brushes it off, but the way his eyes never leave your body and the way he keeps fidgeting with the hem of the shirt you're wearing makes you question what he's doing. He doesn't say anything the whole time which made you curious and knew something was up.

Hajime Umemiya

He has to do a double take on your body when he comes across you wearing something of his own. The first time it happened, you were relaxing on the school roof top with him, seeing that you guys finished gardening fairly quickly, the shirt you were wearing had gotten a little too dirty to your liking, so to fix the solution he looked at you, then his shirt.

"Do you want to borrow mine?"

You eyebrows knitted in confusion as your eyes went wide. You kept protesting and telling him to keep it, besides, what was he going to wear then? He quickly solved the problem by saying if you'd like to borrow his sweater instead. This time, you agreed to those terms.

You quickly changed in the washroom before heading up to the rooftop again. The school was empty and luckily Sugishita had plans that day (which is very rare causing the both of you to question what he was doing today). Upon returning, he was in the hammock he usually takes naps in and was busy on his phone after not being on it for a few hours. Momentarily, you sat in front of him feeling awkward and shifting your chair. He peered up from his phone and looked at you, then smiled.

"Wow that suits you huh?" He placed his phone down on his chest. You jumped at his compliment.

"It's not even mine..."

"Looks better on you though." A cheeky smile was brought to his lips.

You felt the tips of your ears burning as he motioned you to come with him. You were dating by then and yet you still felt awkward whenever you two got a little to intimate. He knew of this thought of yours but he found it cute. So when you stood up and made your way over to him, he quickly grabbed your wrist making you stumble onto his chest as he let out an airy laugh when you yelled in shock.

"You're going to break the hammock you asshole!"

Toma Hiragi

He really hated the way you dressed that day. Normally whenever you two would go out for a date night, it was usually at restaurants or a late night walk for drinks or ice cream, but today was special and you two decided to do something different.

The both of you agreed to visit the bowling arena.

It was open till 12AM and mostly older adults and few rowdy teenagers would roll up around those hours due to the alcoholic beverage that were available to order. Of course, you and him don't drink so your plans was just to bowl.

However when he picks you up from your house and sees your outfit, he could a feel a vigilant sense coming to his nose. The top you wore was a bit too showy and tight for his liking, even so, he refrained from telling you at first.

However, to your dismay, a lot more teenagers that you two expected to be there was out of your assumptions. The groups around your bowling area was rented out by the same rowdy teenagers he feared. The entire time he purely tried to focus on your date and ignore the hormonal boys that kept eyeing up and down. It was driving him crazy to not just drag you out the place and have a date night at home.

After it was your turn, he had enough of the whispers and stares about his girlfriend, so when you walk up to him to indicate it was his turn now, he takes his leather jacket from the couch where both your belongings were placed and in a swift move, he wraps it behind your back.

"Oh, are we going now?" You ask feeling sweat drop from your head.

"...No." He replied as you slipped in your arms through the sleeves. From the corner of his eyes, he could feel the stares of the group of teenagers mumbling under their breaths.

You didn't understand for the first few minutes till you watched him walk up to the stadium and saw him glance at the group of boys if they noticed you were wearing his jacket.

You smiled softly and held the jacket closer to your body.

Taiga Tsugeura

He barely has any interesting shirts, Nirei desperately tried to help him find his style sense, but when the others visited his house and browsed around in his room, Mitsuki looked in his closet to see the same exact shirts in different shades of grey. He took a picture and sent it to the group chat.

The four made that an inside joke.

Even so, you were aware of his limited choices of clothing, when you asked for a shirt at his house, on the outside he seemed normal about it. It took him awhile for it to click in his brain what you asked till he saw you in his shirt asking him if he's ready to go out yet.

The both of you were just going to go on a small walk around town having been bored at his house so the entire time he's outside with you he's extra giddy and smiley thinking about the fact that you are wearing his shirt.

You can tell he's in an extra good mood by the way he seems to blush and smile more while at the same time, taking glances at the shirt you're wearing every now and then.

Mitsuki Kiryu

His clothing of choices are very interesting. Aside from his loud patterned shirts, he still owns a fair amount of cute looking ones.

When you first looked into his closet a tiny part of you was jealous seeing how nice they were, you even told him you were going to steal some because of how good quality it was, and to your surprise he said,

"Go ahead. I don't mind." With a cat-like smile.

In doing so, you ended up putting a fashion show on for him.

He laughed the entire time and rated each outfits you presented to him, having different names for each of the fits making him place down his phone and put all his attention on you.

As much as he enjoyed the little game you made, he loved the way your body fitted some of his clothes, he falls into the shorter category of guys. Standing at a whopping 5'5 ft tall, some of the clothes fit you very well. He finds it amusing the way some of them still look baggy on you, making you look like blob of laundry.

He wouldn't mind if he saw you in public wearing one of his jackets.

Hayato Suo

You really hate his clothes. It's not the fact that it's ugly or weird, Suo tends to go for the Chinese clothing due to the hemp material he likes. Loose pants and kung-fu shoes, they're basically similar material types.

However, when you had to wear one of his jackets due to the weather being colder than usual, you fought with yourself thinking you'd look stupid wearing a Chinese tang-suit in public paired with your [Clothing style] would make you look ridiculous.

But once you refused, the dark-haired boy put on a faux smile and told you to put it on now.

There you were, in his tang-suit jacket.

It wasn't as bad as you thought, eventually you forgot about the jacket when you two continued your date outside. The whole time, he would glance at you whenever you weren't looking and look away with a proud smile.

"Suo is something wrong?" You ask questioning his silent smile.

He looked away and continued walking, "Nothing." He answer before wrapping his fingers with yours.

Jo Togame

Monk working clothes and matching sweatsuits.

He doesn't care much about style if he's being honest. The chore of running errands to spend money on clothing he's going to wear for 2 days and end up throwing them into the washing machine seems like a bother, so he keeps his wardrobe simple.

When he finds you stealing one of his grey sweaters, he notices right away.

"Is that mine?" He asks pointing at you laying in his bed with your phone in your hand.

He already knows the answer when you reply, "Yeah."

He chuckles to himself before walking over to you and placing the towel from his shoulders on his chair. His hair was still wet after having a short bath and threw on grey sweatpants and a random sweatshirt.

When you're just going through your phone and not paying much attention to your surroundings, the 6 foot man launches his body onto yours making you scream in surprise.

Instantly, he wraps his arms around your waist while messing up his wet hair on the sweater you wore. The phone in your hand dropped causing it to fling to the floor and create a crashing sound. The moment he got his hands on you, you tried breaking free.

"Togame stop! Your hair is still wet!" You kicked your legs and began to push yourself away from him but his grip was too strong.

You could feel a smile form on his lips against you as a lazy but purring voice replaced his tone of voice, "But you look so good [Name]."

"Let me GO!"

Tomiyama Choji

His outfits relate to similar clothing of streetwear and he's not even aware of that. He picks his clothing at random and goes for tight-fitted pants with sneakers. He's very short and light so most of his clothes fit you.

When you two are simply going out to eat and you accidentally spill water on your shirt, your mood shifts and becomes sadder.

He wasn't expecting something like this to happen, and thought about any solutions.

"My shirt is all ruined..." You whined across from the chair he stood in. You began to wipe down the liquid that wetted your shirt while he frantically began to clean up the table that had the water spills.

"Hey it's okay, you can always borrow my jacket." He looked up at you with his prominent smile.

You blinked at his offer but was he really going to give you a choice? The answer was no.

You went into the washroom to go change and slip on the the hoodie he wore for your date, and when you walked out he widened his eyes in surprise as a tiny of blush covered his cheeks.

"Sorry, I'll return your sweater back next time okay?" You walked out the restaurant with him with you wet shirt stuffed in your bag.

He shook his head and that's when you realized he seemed a bit more quieter than he usually is. Normally, he was loud and outgoing but in this moment, you senesced something was coming up.

"No it's okay, you can keep it."

"Really?" You smiled back at him as the two of you began walking.

He remained his eyes on you in a daze before the two of you wrapped your hands together, "Yeah. It suits you better."

You blushed at his statement.

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

Revolutionary Army Punk AU

Ft: Luffy (not punk)

Steampunk is cool but i think just straight up punk would be cooler. I just think what they stand for lines up a lot better

Design notes:

I did some research and talked to a punk friend of mine for these as i am not a punk, myself, and I dont want to look like a poser. I think i did a really good job translating them and i want to explain my thoughts!

Sabo was first, of course.

I not only wanted to make the characters punk, but i also wanted to crank their designs up about 20 notches, so i gave Sabo’s scar one hell of an upgrade. In this version I tried to make it very clear that that cannon ball hit him head-on. I think it works really well with his punk vibes because under-cuts and shaved parts of the head in general are very popular in punk culture.

I largely tried to keep the silhouettes the same with this au, and It was really easy to keep it with Sabo because of the fact that he already has a lot of design elements that translate well to punk. His big pants into tall boots were perfect to translate, crust pants and steel toed boots fits him well. Trench coats arent a staple in Punk, but i couldnt take the coats away from him… him or Belo. They deserve it…

I threw away his cravat for a choker, i replaced his vest with a red tank top and his undershirt for fishnets, Patches up the wazoo, he looks very cool.

Belo Betty was next, she was super easy to translate. She’s already in the punk spirit with her tits out, we love to see it. Her hat was really difficult to translate, along with all the other hats, but a red knitted hat that has those two points cuz it’s essentially a scarf sewed together looks nice on her.

My punk friend suggested i give her a bunch of nets and harnesses and i really agreed that was her style, so i gave her red tie to Morley, slapped some harnesses on her and just overall just turned her sexy up like 50 notches. I think i was clever how i adapted her striped stockings here with how they have runs in them.

Karasu is almost the exact same. I just threw out his dinky little cravat and gave him a bandana and harness. I also gave him piercings. That’s the only difference. In the words of my Punk friend “hes naked and wearing a spiked mask, He can hang”

Speaking of what my punk friend said, he said that Lindbergh would get “demolished” in the pit, and that he looks like he’s scared of bees. The consensus was that he couldn’t hang. But also i still had to make him punk, so then he suggested CBGB punks:

Redneck, bluegrass, southern american punks. I was really in a rut with his design, I didn’t know what to do to keep the silhouette of his backpack. But everything changed when I chance got the idea of a guitar. And then everything flowed from there

Morley was really really fun. Punk friend suggested i make him Pop Punk, inspired by this pic

Mainly Lindsey way with this plaid skirt and tie

He was so so fun to draw, i love his fucked up eyes.

For dragon, i didnt change much at all, even though it’s only his bust that’s shown. Imagine everything is the same, except now he has piercings. Dragon isnt concerned with the punk fashion, but the punk cause.

For Luffy, I wasnt trying to make him punk, but he felt a bit plain looking like base Luffy next to punk Sabo, so i just did the “turn design up 20 notches”, and just gave him a more visibly tattered hat, bangles and waist beads.

That’s about it! Ive been getting a lot of comments and asks lately saying that you guys like when i go on my design explanations, and i realized that i didnt do that for the last few AU’s, so i thought id type this up :)

Thank you for reading!

[redgoldsparks]

I wrote a 12 page epilogue to my 2019 comic "Harry Potter and The Problematic Author" because I found, in 2023, that I had more to say. You can also find this comic on my website, and I have PDF copies available on etsy. I may sell print copies at some point in the future.

instagram / patreon / portfolio / etsy / my book / redbubble

Full transcript below the cut.

PAGE 1

Part one: Ruddy Owls!

I was in fourth grade when the first Harry Potter Book was released in the US.

Panel 1: Sometimes our teacher would read it aloud in class. “Mr and Mrs Dursley of number 4 Privat Drive were proud to say they were perfectly normal, thank you very much…”

Panel 2: I was 11 years old when Harry Potter finally broke through my dyslexia and turned me into a reader.

Panel 3: Every night in the summer before sixth grade I waited for the owl carrying my Hogwarts Letter. I cried when it didn’t come. “I have to go to Muggle school!”

PAGE 2

Part Two: Hats

I dedicated myself to being a fan.

Panel 1: I began collecting Harry Potter News article.

Panel 2: I asked my relatives to mail me ones from their local papers. I filled a thick binder with clippings.

Panel 3: I wrote my own trivia quiz

Panel 4: and participated in the one held annually at the county fair. “Next contestant!”

Panel 5: I usually got into one of. the top five spots. I won boxes of candy, posters, stationary, and once a baseball cap. (Hat reads: I survived the battle of Hogwarts).

Panel 6: In high school I sewed a black velvet cape and knitted many stripped scarves.

PAGE 3

Part Three: Double Trouble

Watching the last film in 2011 felt like the final note of my childhood. 

Panel 1: I remember driving home from the midnight showing thinking about the end of 13 years of waiting; wondering what would define the next chapter of my life. 

Panel 2: That same month I heard of something called Pottermore. “Okay, so there’s a sorting quiz… I already know my house! Patronus assignment? Mine’s a barn owl. Duh!" 

Panel 3: You can read the books again but with GIFs? Why? 

Panel 4: I lived in a place with very slow and limited internet at the time. Pottermore sounded inaccessible, but also boring. I never joined. 

Panel 5: "I’ll just read the actual books again, thanks." 

PAGE 4

Part Four: Sweets

In 2016, a series of short stories titled "History of Magic in North America” were released on Pottermore to pave the way for the first Fantastic Beasts Film. These stories display an extreme ignorance of American history, culture, and geography, but the worst parts are the casual misuse of indigenous beliefs and stories. Fans and critics immediately spoke up against this appropriation. Some of the most quoted voices included Nambe Pueblo scholar Dr. Debbie Reese who runs the site “American Indians In Children’s Literature”; Navajo writer Brian Young; Johnnie Jae (Otoe-Missouria and Choctaw), founder of A Tribe Called Geek; Dr Adrienne Keene (Cherokee Nation), a Professor at Brown University who runs the blog “Native Appropriations”, and writers N.K. Jemison and Paula Young Lee.

PAGE 5

Rowling is famous for responding to fans directly on twitter, yet she did not respond to anyone calling out the damaging aspects of “Magic in North America.” Her representatives refused to comment for March 9 2016 article in the Guardian. She has never apologized. All of this, plus the casting of Johnny Depp and the specific declarations of support by JKR, Warner Brothers, and director David Yates left a sour taste in my mouth.

For further thoughts on the new films read The Crimes of Grindelwald is a Mess by Alanna Bennett for Buzzfeed News, November 16, 2018.

PAGE 6

Excerpt from Colonialism in Wizarding American: JK Rowling’s History of Magic in North America Through an Indigenous Lens by Allison Mills, MFA, MAS/MLIS (Cree and Settler French Canadian)

Although Rowling is certainly not the first white author to misstep in her treatment of Indigenous cultures, she has an unprecedented level of visibility and fame, […] One of the most glaring problems with Rowling’s story is her treatment of the many Indigenous nations in North America as one monolithic group. […It] flattens out the diversity of languages, belief systems, and cultures that exist in Indigenous communities, allowing stereotyping to persist. […] It continues a long history of colonial texts which ignore that Indigenous peoples still exist. […] In the Wizarding world, as in the real world, Indigenous histories have been over-written and our cultures erased.

from The Looking Glass: New Perspectives in Children’s Literature Volumn 19, Issue 1

PAGE 7

Part 5: Music

Panel 1: Also in 2016 I discovered two podcasts which radically altered my experience of being an HP fan. The first was Witch Please created by two Canadian feminist literary scholars Hannah McGregor and Marcelle Kosman.

Panel 2: “If it’s not in the text it doesn’t count!” “Close reading ONLY!”

Panel 3: They talk about Harry Potter at the level you’d expect in a college class with particular focus on gender, race, class, and the troubling fatphobia, fear of othered and queer coded bodies, violence against women, white feminism, gaslighting and failed pedagogy in the books. They bring up these issues not because they hate the series, but because they LOVE it.

PAGE 8

These passionate, joyful conversations went off like fireworks in my mind. I had never taken a feminist class before. I gained a whole new vocabulary to talk about the books- and the world.

PAGE 9

Panel 1: The second podcast I started that year was Harry Potter and the Sacred Text, created by two graduates of the Harvard Divinity School, Vanessa Zoltan and Casper Ter Kuile.

Panel 2: They read one chapter per episode through a theme such as love, control, curiosity, shame, responsibility, hospitality, destruction, or mystery. Like Witch Please, they are interested only in the information on the page, not thoughts from the author. The delights and failures of the text are examined in the context of the present day, and new meanings constantly arise.

PAGE 10

What does it mean to treat a text as sacred?

Trusting that the more time we give to it, the more blessings it has to give us.

Reading the text repeatedly with concentrated attention. Our effort is part of what makes it sacred. The text is not in and of itself sacred, but is made so by rigorously engaging in the ritual of reading.

Experiencing it in community.

“To me, the goal of treating the text as sacred is that we learn to treat each other as sacred.” -Vanessa Zoltan

PAGE 11

Part 6: Tooth and Claw

In October 2017, Rowling liked a tweet linking to an article arguing that trans women should be kept out of women’s bathrooms because of cisgender women’s fears. In March 2018, she liked a tweet about the problem of misogyny in the UK Labour Party which included the line “Men in dresses get brosocialist solidarity I never had.” The author of the tweet had previously posted many blatantly anti-trans statements.

Rowlings publicist claimed she had liked the posted by accident in a “clumsy and middle-aged moment.” Yet, in September 2018 she liked a link posted by Janice Turner to her column in the Times UK titled “Trans Rapists Are A Danger In Women’s Jails.”

Screencaps of these tweets can be found in the article “The Mysterious Case of JK Rowling and her Transphobic Twitter History”, January 10 2019 by Gwendolyn Smith (a trans journalist), LGBTQNation.com

PAGE 12

Excerpt from: Is JK Rowling Transphobic? A Trans Woman Investigates by Katelyn Burns

Ultimately, the answer is yes, she is transphobic […] I think it’s fair that she receives criticism from trans people, especially given her advocacy on behalf of queer people in general, but also because she has a huge platform. Many people look up to her for creating a singular piece of popular culture that holds deep meaning for fans from different walks of life, and she has a responsibility to handle that platform wisely. (Published on them.us March 28, 2018)

PAGE 13

Part 7: Home

At age 30, I’m still not over Harry Potter.

Panel 1: I’ve recently found a local bar that does HP trivia nights. “Poppy or Pomona?” “Poppy!”

Panel 2: I currently own an annual pass to Universal Studios so I can visit Hogsmeade.

Panel 3: I love talking to kids who are reading the books for the first time. “Who’s your favorite character?” “Ginny!”

Panel 4: And I’m planning a relisten to the audio books to next year to help me get through the election cycle. “Jim Dale, I’m going to need you more than ever…”

Spoiler from 2023: I did not do this. By mid-2020 JKR had posted her transphobic essay; we were in covid; I never visited Universal Studios again.

PAGE 14

But I do want to learn from her mistakes. I never want to repeat “Magic in North America.” As I write, I will do my research. I will consult experts and compensate them. If a reader from a different culture/background than me speaks up about my work, I will listen and apologize. I KNOW I WILL MAKE MISTAKES. But I will own up to them and I will do better.

PAGE 15

Excerpt from Diversity Is Not Enough: Race, Power and Publishing by Daniel José Older

We can love a thing and still critique it. In fact, that’s the only way to really love a thing. Let’s be critical lovers and loving critics and open ourselves to the truth about where we are and where we’ve been. Instead of holding tight to the same old, failed patriarchies, let’s walk a new road, speak new languages. Today, let’s imagine a literature, a literary world, that carries this struggle for equity in its very essence, so that tomorrow it can cease to be necessary, and disappear. (Buzzfeed, April 14, 2017) 

PAGE 16

Harry Potter is flawed, & JK Rowling is problematic. But the books helped me learn a lot: 

*One of the greatest dangers facing the modern world is the rise of fascism 

*The government cannot be trusted 

*Read and think critically

*Question the news: who paid the journalist? Who owns the paper? 

*Trust and support your friends through good times and bad

*Organize for resistance

*Educate and share resources with peers

*The revolution must be diverse and intersectional

* We are only as strong as we are united

*The weapon we have is love 

MK 2019

PAGE 17

PART 8: EPILOGUE

In 2021 I removed a Harry Potter patch I sewed to my book bag over a decade ago. I took 15 pieces of Harry Potter fanart off my walls. I got rid of my paperback book set, 2 board games, and 8 t-shirt. [images: a Hogwarts a patch with loose threads, a pair of scissors and a seam ripper]

Panel 1: Maia holding up a shirt with the Deathly Hallows logo on it. Maia thinks: “Damn, this really used to be my entire personality.”

Panel 2: The t-shirt gets thrown into the Goodwill box.

PAGE 18

I wrote my zine wrestling with JKR’s legacy in 2019, after her dismissive and racist reaction to indigenous fans and critics of “Magic in North America” and after she had liked a couple transphobic tweets. Since then, she has gotten so much worse.

A Brief Timeline (mostly from this Vox article)

June 2020- JKR posts a 3600 word essay making her anti-trans position clear

August 2020- The Robert F Kennedy Human Rights Org issues a statement about her transphobia, JKR doubles down on her position and returns an award they gave her

December 2020- JKR claims 90% of HP fans secretly agree with her anti-trans views

December 2021- JKR mocks Scottish Police for recognizing transgender identities

March 2022- JKR criticizes gender-inclusive language and legislation

December 2022- JKR retweets trans youtuber Jessie Earl’s critical review of Hogwarts Legacy, starting an onslaught of transphobic harassment towards Earl

December 2022- JKR removes her support from an Edinburgh center for survivors of sexual violence with a trans-inclusive policy and funds her own center which explicitly excludes trans sexual assault survivors

January 2023- JKR tweets “Deeply amused by those telling me I’ve lost their admiration due to disrespect I show violent, duplicitous rapists.” It got nearly 300K likes

March 2023- One the podcast “The Witch Trials of JK Rowling”, hosted by a former Westboro Baptist Church Member, JKR compares the trans rights movement to Death Eaters.

PAGE 19

What are The Witch Trials of JK Rowling?

Panel 1: Maia speaking. “It’s a 7 episode documentary style podcast hosted by Megan Phelps-Roper. Nearly every episode contains interviews with JKR as well as critics, journalists, historians, protestors and fans.

Panel 2: Maia speaking. “In episode 1, JKR speaks more candidly than she has previously about being in an abusive marriage. Her ex-husband hit her, stalked her, broke into her house overlapping with the time she was writing the first three HP books.”

Panel 3: Maia speaking. “What she went through genuinely sounds horrific. I have a lot of sympathy for the kind of life-long traumas those experiences leave.”

PAGE 20

HOWEVER.

It is clear from reading the June 2020 essay on her blog and listening to the podcast, that JKR still to this day feels unsafe. Despite her wealth and privilege she moves through the world with the mindset of a victim. And the group of people she finds most threatening are trans women.

Or rather, she is afraid that allowing trans women in women’s spaces invites the possibility of male predators entering those spaces.

Here’s a direct quote: The problem is male violence. All a predator wants is access and to open the doors of changing rooms, rape centers, domestic violence centers [...] to any male who says “I’m a woman and I have a right to be here” will constitute a risk to women and girls. - from The Witch Trials episode 4 as transcribed by therowlinglibrary.com, March 2023

Image: A stem of Belladonna with flowers and berries.

PAGE 21

Let me introduce here the term: TRANSMISOGYNY. The intersection of transphobia and misogyny, this term was coined by Julia Serano in 2007. Scout Tran, on tiktok as Queersneverdie said: “Transmisogyny occurs in people who have been previously hurt by traditional misogyny. Who have been driven to hate men or at the very least to be scared of men. They will sometimes take out that rage on trans women. (March 2023)

JKR claims to care for trans women and understand they are extremely vulnerable to assault and violence. In her 2020 Essay she wrote: “I want trans women to be safe. At the same time, I do not want to make natal girls and women less safe.”

So she cares about trans women… just less than cis women, and she’s willing to throw all trans women under the bus because of her unfounded, prejudice fears.

PAGE 22

Panel 1: Maia speaking. “JKR claims to have seen data that proves trans women have presented physical threats to other women in intimate spaces, but never cites sources. She also uses “producer of the large gametes” as a definition of “woman”.

What about transmen and nonbinary folks?

Panel 2: Maia leaning on a stack of all seven HP books, the first four Cormorant Strike books and The Casual Vacancy, gesturing to a series of quotes with a tired and disgusted expression.

I’m concerned about the huge explosion of young women wishing to transition and also about the increasing numbers who seem to be detransitioning. * [...] If I’d been born 30 years later, I too might have tried to transition. The allure of escaping womanhood would have been huge. -June 10 2020 essay

I don’t believe a 14 year old can truly understand what the loss of their fertility is.

-Witch Trials episode 4

I haven’t yet found a study that hasn’t found that the majority of young people experiencing gender dysphoria grow out of it*. -Witch Trials episode 7

*No sources cited

PAGE 23

It’s hard to over emphasize how fixated JKR has become on these topics. As of the date I’m writing this, 14 out of her 20 most recent tweets (70%) are in some way anti-trans. She tweets against Mermaids (a UK based trans youth charity), against trans athletes, against gender neutral bathrooms, and in support of LBG Alliance- a UK org that denies trans rights while upholding gay rights. Here are some gems from her archive:

“People who menstruate.” I’m sure there used to be a word for those people. Someone help me out. Wumben? Wimpund? Woomud? -June 2020

War is Peace. Freedom is Slavery. Ignorance is Strength. The Penised Individual Who Raped You Is a Woman. - December 2021

And in response to someone asking “How do you sleep at night knowing you lost a whole audience?”

I read my most recent royalty cheques and find the pain goes away pretty quickly. -October 2022

PAGE 24

Hashtag Ruthless Productions a queer nerd podcast company created a great guide on ethical engagement with HP. Image: the two hosts of Hashtag Ruthless productions, Jessie (They/she) and Lark (he/him).

Stop buying all official HP Products: books, movies, games, toys, etc, Universal Studios tickets, food, merch.* Boycott any new TV series or movies. Instead: buy the books and DVDs used. If you still want to wear HP merch, buy fan-made. Engage only with fan content: fic, podcasts, fanart, wizard rock, etc. Show transphobia is bad for business. None of this will change JKR’s mind. But the Fantastic Beast series was canceled and after record Pottermore sales in 2020, they fell in 2022 by 40%.

*She gets a portion of ALL tickets. In 2019, this was her largest income source. Read the full guide: hashtagruthless.com/resourceguide

PAGE 25

As late as 2019, I was still reading JKR’s murder mystery series. But by the fourth book my experience began to sour.

Panel 1: Maia holding a copy of Lethal White. “The only gay character in this book is a government official who gropes his staff?”

Panel 2: “The only genderqueer character is misgendered and portrayed as a whiny faker?”

Panel 3: “The only Muslim character is disowned by his family over gay rumors?”

Panel 4: “Even the women aren’t portrayed very well…”

Panel 5: “Why is the main female character defined by the rape in her past?”

Panel 6: “Wait, what happens in the rest of this series…?” Maia scrolls on eir phone.

Panel 7: “Is the series heading towards an employee/boss relationship?”

Panel 8: “And has a man wearing women’s clothes to commit assault?”

Panel 9: “Yeah, I’m done. I’m never reading a new JKR book ever again.”

PAGE 26

And as for JKR herself?

As tempting as it might be to tweet your frustrations at her, I don’t recommend it. In 2021, she tweeted, “Hundreds of trans activists have threatened to beat, rape, assassinate and bomb me.” Getting hate online feeds her sense of victimhood and she waves it as proof of her moral high ground. Instead I suggest you block her on twitter, then delete twitter, go to the library and try to find a new book that feels magical.

Stack of books: In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan, The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater, Gifts by Ursula K Le Guin, Deep Wizardry by Diane Duane, A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik and Gideon the Ninth by Tamsin Muir.

PAGE 27

In “Emergent Strategy” adrienne maree brown writes: You do not have the right to traumatize abusive people, to attack them, personally or publicly, or to sabotage anyone else’s health. The behaviors of abuse are also survival-based, learned behaviors rooted in pain. If you can look through the lens of compassion, you will find hurt and trauma there. If you are the abused party, healing that hurt is not your responsibility and exacerbating that pain is not your justified right.

PAGE 28

Seeing anyone over age 12 wearing HP merch now makes me uncomfortable. Are they ignorant or actively a TERF? I hate wondering how much money JKR has probably poured into anti-trans legislation… This zine is a culmination of my slow breakup with a story that once brought me joy. Now it just makes me angry, tired and sad.

Image: Candle in a fancy holder burned down to less than an inch.

Maia Kobabe, 2023

[creganslover]

My King

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Velaryon! Wife! Reader

Requested?: No

Summary: You find your dear husband sulking in his study.

Word count: 1.2k

Warning/s: sad jace, passive agressive jace? lol, suggestive themes towards the end but no smut! no use of y/n

Note: just inspired by jace and baela's scene in s2ep8 hehe aka i just wanna give him a hug and kiss him all over is that too much to ask- likes, reblogs, and feedbacks are greatly appreciated ❣️

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

Tracing over the scripture on the tome, you shift yourself, crossing a leg over the other as your brain tries to consume the content within the pages, even if it was already deep within the night, the air seeping into your bones if it were not for the candles distanced around you. 

The candles flickered, casting a warm glow, the night air making you already feel the pull of exhaustion from today’s events, however one was keeping you from the graces of sleep.

You wondered where your husband was, Jace. 

You had been waiting for his return to your shared chambers, but recently, he looked occupied with trying to reign in his own mother as well as trying to be by her side, you could not blame him for the way he had been acting. You supported her cause, but you could see how it had been affecting Jacaerys lately. 

Huffing, you rubbed at your eyes, closing and pushing the book away as you stood, about to come looking for Jacaerys. 

It felt more often than not you had to fetch him from wherever he may be just to go and drag him to bed with you just so he could find sleep. 

Your feet led you downstairs, bunching your robes so you do not accidentally step and fall over these stone steps, though the thought made you almost laugh. Those thoughts are quickly forgotten when you spot Jacaerys down the open door of his study. 

Peeking in curiously, you saw him, elbow perched on his desk, side of his head propped against his fist as he was slowly turning the pages of a book with his other hand, his face pulled to a frown, brows knitted in thought. You might find it endearing if it wasn’t for the situation.

Poor boy doesn’t even register your presence as you slipped in, making it eventually known by speaking. 

“It does not befit a prince to pout.” You suddenly say, Jacaerys stilling for a moment, his heart spiking but eventually relaxing as his mind registers your voice, making him close his eyes shut and release a deep sigh. 

“I’m not pouting.” Came his reply. Leave it to your husband…

“What would you call it then, husband?” You voiced, shuffling the books on the chair behind him, placing it onto the desk before sitting beside him. “I’m reading, wife.” As if to send his point across, he turns a page in between his two fingers, but he does not even seem to be glancing at the sheet. 

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you sigh. “You’re angry.” 

That’s when Jace finally moves to face you. “Aren’t you?”

You look down for a moment to shrug, of course the idea was bizarre and clearly a blow to your family’s honor. “I don’t see what good it would do.” you reply, “They are an insult to us.” Jace murmured, looking ahead of him, jaw clenching. “To what makes us Targaryens.”

“If any common lout can ride a dragon, then–” You were quick to cut him off. “Yet that does not make me common. Or you.” You try to convince him, inching your chair closer to your betrothed. 

“You know what I am.” He responded, no, that’s not what you were going to have. “I do not care, Jace.” You firmly said, reaching for his hands underneath the desk as you looked at him while he maintained to avoid your gaze. 

Raising a hand of his enclasped in yours, you press your lips against the back of his hand, a show of affection. “You are the crown prince, the son of the rightful queen- and here you are sulking because you believe that if not for the dragon, or the trappings of your station- that you are nothing.”

Placing your hand still holding his on your lap, you couldn’t help but just want to drown out your husband’s thoughts and distress.

“Do you believe that you are the first noble heir who was not sired by his noble father?” Taking an inhale of breath, you added. “Such is the way of the world, Jace, and in resenting it you only diminish yourself.” 

Hoping it will come through to him as you stroke your thumb on his hand that was now on your leg, his palm resting on the flesh through your robes. 

He still doesn’t meet your gaze and it sends you frustrated, but you keep trying anyway. “Easy enough to say.” He replied, voice tinged with rancor. You see him swallow as he stares into the void of candles and books. “I’ve heard the whispers the whole of my life.”

Your face pulls to a sympathetic look, gaze momentarily flickering to the ground, cursing the accusations Jace had been succumbed to ever since in your youth. You squeezed his hand on your leg, your gaze holding onto him. “Then prove to them you are worthy, you are Jacaerys Velaryon, heir to the Iron Throne- no one would change that, unless you will not get up and take your place by your mother’s side.”

After what felt like an eternity, Jacaerys finally gave in and had looked at you, though still shying away as he leaned his head back, blinking away the moisture from his eyes. You sigh, squeezing his hand again.

You felt that silence was enough, letting your words sink into Jacaerys’ mind. “I’m sorry.” He said after a while, in which you shook your head. “There is no need to be sorry, Jace.” You reach up, cupping his face with your free hand as you slowly make him turn his head to face you, to look earnestly in your eyes. 

“I am with you, through your ups and downs.” You murmur, stroking your thumb across the apple of his cheek, “We’ll get through this together, we’ll end this war, see your mother to the throne.” You promised, leaning in to capture his lips to seal the vow. 

He reciprocates, squeezing your leg as his other hand found your arm, tracing up to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you closer. 

“What would I do without you?” He murmured against you, breaths mingling together in a dance as your lips brushed against the other.. 

“Perhaps still pouting and sulking, my king.” You teased, pulling back and getting up from your chair, sending Jace befuddled yet stimulated, you calling him king had seemed to fry every last thought he had before recovering.

A smirk came to his face, amused at your teasing as he also rushed to stand, lunging to try and capture you in his arms, but you had anticipated it as you easily slipped from his grasp, his troubles melting as the wax on the lit candles. 

“You tease me now, wife? How shall I punish you if I ever become king?” It sent your heart fluttering and your insides heating as Jace played along, making you continue your act, placing your hand above your chest in mock disbelief. It was a start, you would always want to see your husband in high spirits. 

“That is if you can catch me first, my king.” 

And with that you were off, stifled laughter down the hall, your robes bunched up in your hands as you ascended the stairs towards your shared chambers… with a fired up dragon hot on your trail.

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

← Smutlet masterlist

18+ Thigh Riding

He looked up at you, his head resting against the back of the couch. A teasing smirk flitted across his face as he watched you chasing your release. Bucky loved studying your features, staring intently. The way your mouth hung open, your brows practically knitted together from the effort you were putting in and your eyelids fluttering with your attempts to keep them open. Bucky loved that about you. You were always all in, including the short panting breaths that escaped from your swollen lips. Yes, he derived just as much pleasure seeing you come undone as you did experiencing it.

“You're so damn beautiful, Doll.”

You reveled in the way his large calloused hands felt on your hips, the way he held you, and subtly guided your movements as you pushed your uncovered core against his bare thigh. You loved how he bit down on his lip, struggling to contain his own arousal, so desperate to be inside of you.

“Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"

Bucky moaned as his erection strained against his boxers. Oh, how he longed to press his palm against it, just to relieve some of the tension. No, today he was going to watch, watch you use his body to get yourself off. Then maybe, if you were feeling generous, you'd return the favor. He smiled. You were the most generous person he knew.

“Having fun there, Doll?”

You noticed how mesmerized he was by your peaked nipples, your blossomed breasts swaying up and down before his very eyes. A soft laugh slipped past your lips, his struggle of restraint amusing you as you watched his nostrils flare and his heavy breathing whistling through pursed lips.

“Mind if I have a taste?”

Ultimately, it's too much for Bucky, your beautiful bosom right there on display just for him. How could he not partake? How easy it was for him to lean forward and capture one of those perky beauties between his eager lips. His tongue rolled around your hard nipple with ease. You let him suck it as his hands caressed her twin. Cupping her, pinching her nipple between his vibranium fingers and kneading your flesh. Oh, how he loved the moans you saved, just for him.

“That's my girl, God, you feel so good in my mouth.”

Once you've given him a taste, he can't stop, yearning for more. You let him leave a trail of blazing kisses across your chest, teeth grazing your skin, open lips sucking bruises up towards your neck, marking you as his. You knew how much it turned him on, seeing his marks on your body, his possessiveness taking over. In turn, his covetousness drove you crazy, dialling up your desire to dangerous levels.

“You're mine, Doll. Got that? All mine.”

At this point, his hands are all over you, fingers and palm spread across your back, dragging over your silky skin. He skimmed over your waist only to find purchase on the curve of your ass where his fingertips dug in desperately, helping you along the path to nirvana. Encouraging you with lust dripping from his voice.

“Go on, Doll. You're doing so good. Just a little more."

By now, you're so lost in a haze that your movements are less than smooth, and you thank your lucky stars that Bucky has the sense to assist. Your juices are covering his thigh as you shamelessly drag your clit over his bulging quad. Over and over. You have his undivided focus now, he can tell how close you are to falling off the edge into the carnal abyss. He helped you out as pitiful moans left your lips and tired hips faltered slightly. He squeezed his quads, the muscle hardening under you, pushing against your sensitive little nub. Bucky whispered sweet words of praise and encouragement as you let go and cum on his thigh.

“That's right, Doll, you got this. How do you always look pretty, sweet girl? Keep going, just like that, darling. Only a little more, let it go. That's it, baby, well done.”

[elleloquently]

too little, never late [ 1 ] : ellie williams

" can you see me? i'm waiting for the right time

i can't read you but if you want, the pleasure's all mine "

series masterlist

───⋆☆───────

ellie williams x female reader | college au - best friend!ellie

───⋆☆───────

| a/n - here it is!! decided to abandon my lowercase thing for this fic, not sure why but it felt right lmao. comments, reblogs, and asks ab this are so encouraged and appreciated <3 excited ab this one, hope you guys are toooo | c/w - warnings for the entire series are listed in the masterlist. a bit of exposition here. reader is vaguely indicated to be girly i guess and closeted (sorry!!!) switching between past/present tense is very much on purpose / intended!!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧　

It was hard to pick your favorite season on campus.

During move in every year, at the end of summer, the air felt full of promise. The music was loud from passing by cars, the bars especially crowded during syllabus week.

Winter was pretty, too, with the string lights that adorned the town and the ice skating rink that was put up downtown. It was easy to blow dining dollars on the hot chocolate and donut truck that was always posted nearby.

There was spring, when all of the campus greenery started to bloom. It felt like tradition for all classes to be skipped on that first warm day every year, the campus green filled with hammocks and picnic blankets.

But fall.

Campus felt like it was made for fall.

The sun was still warm, but the leaves were turning. It was the perfect time, the colors still bright and vivid, the brief window before they faded to brown.

Pumpkins would be placed strategically within the decorative flower gardens, a last chance for beauty and atmosphere before everything died for the winter. Come October, the statue of the university mascot would be decorated in a different costume each week, leading up to Halloween.

September was just a little bit perfect.

The warmth from summer still lingered, the promise and anticipation of the upcoming semester evident in the atmosphere. Still, there was an indication of fall. The trees were green and yellow and orange and some strange colors in between. People were already planning their Halloween costumes. Something about the sunshine this time of year always felt different. Looked a little more beautiful, maybe.

"It looks like the early 2000's here. On this street," You mumbled, stepping carefully over the curb as you gripped tighter onto the brown paper bag in your arms.

"The fuck does that mean?" Your best friend snorted from beside you, shooting you a sidelong glance.

Your eyebrows knit together immediately as you catch Ellie's glance, her pale green eyes giving you a once over. Still, you defended your observation.

"It looks like a trick or treating street," you mumbled, your sight following along the sidewalk. Leaves were already starting to fall, littering the sidewalk.

"Like how it would look when you were a kid. Reminds me of Halloweentown," you explained lightly, continuing to walk back to campus.

Paper grocery bags in hand, you were making the short journey back to campus after venturing into town. Ellie would have driven, easily, but you always preferred the walk. It was only a matter of minutes, anyway. Besides, parking downtown on a Sunday was shitty to navigate.

You didn't mind living in a college town, as opposed to some universities that existed in the middle of a big city. After growing up in the small town of Jackson, you didn't mind being in a bubble.

"Good movie," Ellie muttered, seemingly more concentrated on crossing the final busy road before you would be back on the campus pathing.

It did remind you of Halloweentown, stupidly enough. It was the first thing you had said several years ago, when yourself and Ellie had stepped off of the school bus and saw a college campus in real life for the first time.

It had been a school field trip during the fall of sophomore year of highschool. Chaperoned by several teachers and a few worrisome parents, the school had organized a weekend long college tour, an attempt at getting students excited about higher education.

Back then, you had felt smitten with the university for stupid, insignificant reasons. The aesthetic being one of them, though you would be hard pressed to deny the fact that the way in which campus looked definitely played a part in your deciding factor. The drive-in movie theater that was five minutes away from campus was a nice selling point, too.

Still, it had felt cool at the time, learning about everything that the possibility of college had to offer.

Choir was still a thing in college, who knew? And you could major in art? Your chosen extracurriculars during that time period had been just that. You were in the high school choir, and Ellie had joined the art club. You had considered joining the art club too, just because you were jealous. At the end of the year, they got to go on a trip to some cool place with a lot of museums.

You never did end up joining, though, and had been unreasonably pissed when Ellie had been gone for two days, out of state. You got your payback the next year, when the choir had gotten to go to Disney and Ellie was left in Jackson, waiting for you to come home.

Now, art was just a hobby for Ellie, and the idea of auditioning to join a college choir felt laughable. Even so, when the time came to start seriously thinking about the idea of college, Ellie couldn't quite shake the memory of how everything in her had lit up at the sight of the university planetarium when she was younger. Soon after, Ellie had learned about astrophysics.

You hadn't planned to attend the same college, but it was certainly a perk. The small things that caught your interest during that first college tour had turned into a real curiosity once junior year of highschool had hit. Turns out, the school had a lot of really good programs. The departments for your desired majors were highly rated. Tuition rates were good, which was even better. Besides. Campus was gorgeous.

You had started imagining it, thinking about it, whispering about the possibility during late night sleepovers. When it was decision season, you were both on edge. It's not like you were applying to an Ivy, but it was the future. Who wouldn't be a little freaked out? The idea of one of you getting in and not the other was humiliating and nerve wracking.

It was thrilling, then, tearing open your letters together with shaky hands in the privacy of Ellie's bedroom. It had been a damn near stealth mission trying to get to the mail before your parents or Joel got to it first.

Joel was more easy going, attempting to hide his concern and curiosity between casual questions and glances, knowing a letter should have been arriving any day. Your parents, on the other hand, had been hounding you relentlessly. But yourself and Ellie wanted the moment to yourselves, alone. So that's what you had done.

You had checked the mail multiple times a day, your heart dropping to your stomach once you finally received the letter. Instantly it was shoved into your overnight bag before you had peddled to Ellie's, your bike wheels turning faster than ever before.

Ellie had looked like a kid again when you had opened the letters, shrieking and falling back onto her bed as you clutched each other's hands, the relief palpable as you read that you were both accepted.

"We should watch it," you suggest, turning your head. Your gaze fixed upon Ellie, focused on the strand of hair that falls over her face. Her hands are full, so she halfheartedly attempts to blow it away.

"Huh? Yeah, sure," Ellie replied, appearing as though she doesn't really know what she's replying to.

Someone on a skateboard is zipping by, their trail quick and unpredictable. You don't notice that you're nearly in their path, your focus on Ellie. Ellie nudges you with her elbow, pressing you out of the way.

"Wait, can't. There's some guest speaker lecture tonight and Dina gets extra credit for one of her classes if she.. Asshole," Ellie cuts herself off, mumbling under her breath. She glared at the inconsiderate skater, moving closer to your side.

"-If she goes to it. I promised I'd go with her," Ellie finished, adjusting her grip on the paper bag in her hands.

The bag crinkles as Ellie's hands grip onto it tighter. It was nearly stuffed to the brim, and the one that you were holding onto wasn't any different. You were slightly worried that they would split and rip before you even made it back to your apartment.

The grocery shop had been necessary, but the items were not. Yourself and Ellie had ventured to the Natural Foods store downtown, throwing any item that looked cool or weird into the cart without a second thought. It was the type of store that would still require you to go to a real grocery store after the fact, leaving you lacking despite the money you had already spent.

"Oh, right. I forgot that it was tonight. What's the lecture about?" You questioned, feeling both totally fine and not fine at all at Ellie's response.

"No clue," Ellie grinned, shaking her head slightly. "Friend of the year. I'm not even the one getting extra credit."

A huff of laughter falls from your lips as you spare a glance at Ellie, not allowing your gaze to linger. It was always so easy to fall into step together, like the two of you were naturally in sync.

"You're coming, right?" Ellie asked then, drawing a shrug out of you.

"Umm, I'm not really sure. I still really need to like, study and stuff. Plus, when Dina told me about it, I didn't want to just assume that I wa-"

"I just assumed you would be going," Ellie clarified, her words coming out a little too quickly. "I mean, we all did."

You pretended to think about it for a moment, but you already knew that you would give in.

Attending some special event lecture wasn't exactly your ideal Sunday evening. You spent enough hours of your week crammed into a lecture hall already, fidgeting in your seat and watching the seconds tick by on a clock while simultaneously rushing to take notes. Besides, you really did have to study. And you didn't even know what the event was for, or what the lecture was about.

But Ellie would be there. And your other friends. And you always did have some weird thing about missing out. Even if it was just a lecture.

"I'll go," You said decidedly, barely catching Ellie's gaze before she pulled her eyes away from your own.

As your apartment building came into view, you found your steps quickening. The walk had been nice, but you knew that you were both sick of carrying the bags by now.

Your apartment was one that belonged to the university. Since it was a campus apartment building, it wasn't quite as great as the others around town. They were essentially glorified dorms. But financial aid had paid for the majority of it, so you wouldn't complain. Or, just not often, at least.

"Cool," Ellie mumbled, her posture relaxing a little.

In an instant, Ellie's hand is reaching out to the bag that you're holding as soon as a small tear forms at the bottom of the brown paper.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧　

"We need to leave soon."

"I know."

"We really need to leave soon."

"I know," Ellie grumbled, a soft huff escaping her. She turned over in your bed, eyeing you with an expression that could only be described as a slight glare.

You met her eyes from where you were sat at your desk, twisted around in your chair to look at her. Ellie was laying in your bed, with her head on your pillow and your throw blanket wrapped haphazardly around her. It wasn't a new sight in the slightest, and neither was the uncomfortable feeling that it prompted in the pit of your stomach.

You confused it with annoyance, sometimes. Or discomfort.

Even so, it was normal for the two of you to share a sleeping space, or to feel just as at home in the other person's bed. After all, you had been best friends for years now.

There had only been a brief period when it had been weird, only because Ellie had made it so.

It had been junior year of highschool. Ellie had dated a girl for a couple of months, and promptly stopped sharing the bed with you during sleepovers. It had been annoying at the time, and completely ridiculous. You tended to get defensive about it, insisting that it was always normal for the two of you to share a bed.

Your arguments were unwavering, because why was it suddenly strange for two best friends to share a bed? Ellie would only grumble in response, insisting that it was different.

Their relationship didn't last long. The usual sleepover routine promptly resumed after.

"You literally only come over to nap," you accused, turning back towards your desk to glance in your mirror.

"Shut up. That's not true," Ellie huffs defensively. She sits up as if to prove her point, shoving your favorite stuffed animal away from her. You catch the action in your mirror, an automatic frown pulling your lips downward.

"What else am I supposed to do? You take forever anyway, Jesus," Ellie continued, and the action of mumbling her defenses under her breath seems to be more for herself than for your sake.

"You could get ready, too," you suggest, only because you know that it would annoy her further.

"I am ready?" Ellie's eyebrows knit together, her gaze fixed upon your reflection in the mirror. She looks confused instead of irritated, and you feel just a little guilty. If you were closer to her, you would attempt to swipe away her slight frown with your thumb.

"I'm kidding," you soften, because it was impossible not to around your best friend. Your eyes meet hers in the mirror, and the smile that you offer her is small. It's still hot outside, but Ellie is wearing a gray hoodie that you're almost certain she will never let go of.

"Are you gonna be too warm?" Your gaze flicks around the items cluttering your desk before you shift in your chair again, giving Ellie a once over.

Ellie shakes her head, rolling her eyes despite the way in which the corners of her lips faintly twitch upwards. "I'll be fine. Those lecture halls are always cold as shit, anyway."

Ellie's response raises a good point, so you're quickly moving away from your desk and towards your closet instead. Ellie opens her mouth to speak, but the sound of a text tone coming from your phone interrupts her.

"Check it please," you instruct in a mutter, rifling through your cardigans and hoodies.

Ellie automatically obliges, pulling herself away from your bed and carefully moving towards your desk to retrieve your phone. "Dina wants to know if we're meeting up at the event or before... Why the hell is she texting you?"

"Why wouldn't she be texting me?" Your response is immediate as you frown at a sweatshirt. It's faded and worn, but that almost made it better. You had gotten it as a souvenir from a planetarium trip with Ellie and Joel.

Ellie registers the change in your tone instantly, glancing at you instead of at your phone. "No, I mean- Did you even tell her that you were going?"

"You said everyone assumed-"

"But you never confirmed-"

"She probably just knows we're together." You turned to face Ellie, shooting her a pointed look while holding the sweatshirt against your chest.

Apparently, Ellie wasn't great about answering texts. That wasn't your experience, but you had heard Jesse and Dina complain about it enough times to assume. "Have you even bothered to check your phone?" 

"Shit," Ellie mumbled, reaching to fish her phone out from the pocket of her jeans. She hadn't checked her phone in a few hours, probably. The look that crosses Ellie's features though, indicated that Dina hadn't even bothered to reach out to her first.

Your lips quirked upwards as you watched her, rolling your eyes. "Just tell her we'll meet them there." You turn back towards your closet, contemplating your options.

Ellie's gaze lingers on you for a moment before she shakes her head, turning her attention back to your phone. Her own phone is replaced back into her pocket before she slides into your desk chair, grabbing your phone carefully in her grasp. The screen lights up, flashing Ellie with a picture of your lock screen.

The picture was just a little blurry. Dina had been the one to take it. You all had gone to a concert about a year ago, which gives reason to the dark background of the picture. You were grinning wildly, Ellie's arm slung around your shoulders as she wrinkled her nose at the camera.

Ellie simply looked at the photo for a moment, before remembering why she was even holding your phone in the first place. You hear Ellie swear under her breath, but you don't bother to look this time.

It was muscle memory as Ellie entered your password, unlocking your phone. She navigated her way to your messages with Dina, her fingers pausing briefly on the screen before she typed.

you

we'll meet you there

Ellie thinks for a moment, her lips twitching briefly as she added an additional text, an obvious indicator to Dina that it was not you that was responding, but Ellie.

you

dick

Your phone sounds again as Ellie is still holding it, the response from Dina being immediate.

dina ✩

you never answer your phone!!!

Ellie scoffs, but can't suppress the grin that appears on her lips at Dina instantly knowing that it was her. Ellie's next response is a quick one.

you

🖕

dina ✩

🫶

"What are you doing?" Ellie questioned, tearing her eyes away from your phone as you draw her attention once more.

You paused momentarily, holding the strap of your bag in your hand. "I'm gonna take my notes," You admitted, chucking the sweatshirt at Ellie before stepping towards your desk. "I wasn't joking. I like... Really need to study."

Ellie clumsily caught the sweatshirt with her free hand, snorting at your response. "Bullshit."

"It's not," you denied, rolling your eyes. Ellie's gaze followed your hands as you rifled through binders and books on your desk, fingers dancing around cosmetic products that were also currently littering your desk.

Ellie gently sat your phone down, reaching for a bottle of nail polish. The color was familiar, as it was the one you were currently wearing. You had painted them just a few days ago. Ellie knew because she had been with you, and the nail of her pinky finger was painted the same color to prove it.

Ellie never really painted her nails by her own volition, but she usually let you paint them whenever you had asked. The color was a bit glittery this time, and Ellie opted for a pinky.

"So should I say that we're gonna be late, or?" Ellie questioned, her eyebrows raising slightly as she continued to watch you.

"We're not. I'm ready, see?" You pull a textbook away from the pile, waving it at Ellie. She swatted at the book, rolling her eyes in response. It was a habit she never seemed to shake, one that you seemed to mirror quite often.

It's a cue when you shove your textbook into your bag, and Ellie pushed out an exhale. "Yeah yeah, I see," she mumbles, standing up from the desk chair.

The sweatshirt is placed back into your hands after you hoist the strap of your bag onto your shoulder, your smile nearly impossible to bite back at Ellie's mumbling.

"Let's go though, before we actually are late. Seriously, Ellie. You take forever to get ready." Your tone is dry but the amusement at your own joke is evident by your expression.

Ellie practically scowls, reaching out to swat at you once more. "You're the worst, you know that?"

Ellie's half hearted movement is easily dodged, and you couldn't decide between feigning offense or giving her a hard time.

"You love me," you decided to say, and that seemingly shuts Ellie up.

Ellie eyed you for a moment, but her response lacks any weight. "Whatever. Don't forget your dumb key again."

"Oh my G- That was one time," you defended, leaving Ellie to trail after you as you turned on your heel, an indication of your exit.

"Yeah, one time too many." Ellie's voice lowered slightly as you both stepped into the hallway, turning around the corner and heading for the elevator. "You called me at almost like, two in the morning."

You nearly winced at Ellie's words, an awkward grimace-like-smile appearing on your face. She was right, anyway. But it had only been one time.

It was towards the end of the spring semester last year. Of course, you hadn't remembered your key until it was too late, arriving at your door after a night out with Dina without any way to get inside.

Instinctively, you had called Ellie. It had been late and you were humiliated, not wanting to bother anyone in your building until morning. Ellie had shown up for you in under fifteen minutes, not even pretending to be annoyed because she could tell by your voice on the phone that you had felt awful.

The impromptu sleepover had been nice, though. Carefully spaced apart in Ellie's bed, the two of you had scrolled through your photos and videos dating back to the first year that you had met until you had eventually fallen asleep, phones dropping limply against the blankets.

"Shut up," you mumbled weakly, face warming slightly at the memory of your embarrassment. "We had fun that night."

"Yeah, we did," Ellie relents with a grin.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧　

It had taken nearly twenty minutes to walk to the building that the event was being held in. By the time you had actually made it, the sky was growing dark.

You weren't entirely familiar with the building. You knew that most of Dina's classes were held here though, so you could only assume that the event had something to do with that. It would make sense, considering the whole extra credit ordeal.

You were slightly anxious that the two of you actually were going to be late, but the sight of a crowd in the lobby instantly eased your worries.

You spotted Jesse first, due to his height.

"There." You nudged Ellie's arm with your own, causing her to follow your gaze. Ellie nodded and so you grasped the sleeve of her hoodie, leading her towards your friends.

Dina soon came into view, as well as someone else that you didn't recognize.

"You guys are the best," Dina gushed instantly, throwing her arms around yourself and Ellie in greeting.

"You didn't say that to me when I got here," Jesse frowned, raising an eyebrow at Dina once she pulled away.

"Oh please." Dina rolls her eyes, but it's lighthearted. "You're the best for driving me," she tells her boyfriend. Jesse laughs at her easy response, shaking his head before bumping his fist against Ellie's shoulder in greeting.

Ellie wrinkled her nose, jerking her shoulder away from Jesse. It was crazy how such tiny things could manage to transport you back through time.

It almost felt like the beat of your heart faltered once Ellie met your gaze, her expression instantly changing into an amused smile instead.

She had these mannerisms that were so Ellie, unchanging despite the time that had passed. You had tried to describe it to her before, but she just didn't get it.

Even so, the way that she looked at you now, as though you were both a part of some inside joke or something, threw you back to freshman year of high school.

That had been the year that the two of you had met.

Since Jackson was a relatively small town, having a new kid start in your class wasn't exactly a frequent thing. Whenever it did happen, it always ended the same way. Within a week, the new kid would always end up being integrated into an already existing group, the number of friends associated with each other being more than you would certainly ever have in a lifetime.

It was a consistent track record, so you almost didn't think anything of it when an unfamiliar girl was assigned to sit next to you in biology.

You had been feeling pretty bleak about starting high school. The friends that you had been closest to throughout middle school had changed over the summer. There was nothing wrong with the concept in general, but it hadn't been a good type of change.

Starting freshman year with little to no friends didn't exactly give you the most optimistic start.

But then, entered Ellie.

Auburn hair, shuffling feet, and a book bag adorned with space themed pins.

You had told yourself it was your anxiety, the way in which your cheeks had burned when Ellie had been instructed to take the empty seat next to you. Admittedly, you had been a little shy, forcing yourself to stare straight ahead without sparing her a glance. But then, you were worried about seeming rude. On the other hand, the probability of a potential new friend was slim. You knew how these things usually went.

It was stupid, really, the thing that made you even speak to her in the first place. But you were grateful for it.

While reaching for a fallen pencil under the table, your eyes had drifted to Ellie's shoes, a pair of red Converse. It's not like it was an uncommon choice, but something about it had caused you to feel a flicker of camaraderie. You had been wearing Converse too, only in black.

As you straightened up in your chair, pencil in hand, you found the words leaving your mouth before you could think it over.

"I like your shoes," you had said, seemingly catching Ellie slightly off guard.

She had only blinked at you for a moment before glancing down at her shoes, which led her to notice your own. "Oh, hey. I like yours too," Ellie had responded.

You didn't normally just start conversations like that, but Ellie wouldn't have known any better at the time.

Hushed conversations at your shared table in the back of the science classroom turned into seeking each other out in the cafeteria, which turned into begging for sleepovers on the weekend.

You learned a lot about the girl that had moved from Boston to Jackson, and she had learned a lot about you, too.

The two of you were quickly inseparable.

You would scrounge up whatever coins you could find, hauling them to the arcade at the nearest mall. Ellie had begged Joel for a bike for Christmas, purely so she could ride around town with you. You would press bandaids on each other's knees, scraped up from whenever you laughed entirely too hard and closed your eyes while steering, or from Ellie trying to knock you off of your bike as a joke, causing her to internally panic when she had actually succeeded.

The entirety of your friendship was captured in photo strips and homemade birthday cards. The first time you had ever used the photo booth at the arcade, all of the photos came out looking nearly identical because you couldn't stop grinning to make any other expression or pose. For the final photo, you had managed to throw up a peace sign, prompting Ellie to stick up her middle finger at the camera.

Luckily, the photo had been snapped before you gasped, your eyes widening at Ellie. It wasn't a big deal in the slightest, but your parents were... Strict. Your sleepovers typically happened at Ellie and Joel's.

You had whined at Ellie, complaining that there was no way that you could hang up the photos in your room now. Ellie tore the bottom photo off in response, keeping the middle finger picture for herself and leaving you with the rest. You had both hung them up in your rooms.

Joel was essentially another parent to you. He adored you, evident in the way in which he had called you sweetheart, prompting a bewildered expression from Ellie and a delayed moment of her howling with laughter. But really, he adored the way in which Ellie had so quickly found a friend after the move, and how her face always lit up whenever she talked about you. He didn't even mind that she seemed to spend more time on her phone, always knowing that it was you that she was texting. 

Despite how comfortable you always found it to be at Ellie and Joel's house, there wasn't the exact level of comfortability at your own. There were just a few things that your parents didn't know about Ellie. But that was okay. Anything to keep up the sleepovers, to keep up your parents allowing Ellie to join you on weekend trips and vacations.

When Ellie's birthday had rolled around in the spring, the pressure was on. It's not like you had much money to even spend at that age, but in the span of a few months, Ellie had quickly become the most important person in your life. You wanted to do something nice for her, even if your realistic capabilities didn't exactly match your personal standards.

The gift ended up being a small pack of space pins, new ones to add to her collection. A few of them were designed to look like different planets, while one of them looked like a little rocket. In addition to the pins, you had made Ellie a birthday card, the colored construction paper being filled with sappy paragraphs of friendship, memories, and promises.

Years later, Ellie obviously no longer used the same bag from freshman year of high school. She still had the pins, though, and they were attached to the bag that she used for school now.

Jesse's voice gained your attention, and Ellie ignored the twinge of disappointment that she felt when your smile was pulled away from her, and instead directed towards the stranger that Jesse was now introducing the both of you to.

Ellie attempted to listen, focusing her attention on the stranger, Connor. She had heard Jesse briefly mention him before in passing, but it never seemed like they were actually friends. They had met the previous year, and shared a class together now. That was the extent of Ellie's knowledge.

"Hey," Ellie mumbled with a slight nod, admittedly more focused on the way in which you were fidgeting with the strap of your bag that was over your shoulder.

"Are you good?" Dina questioned, raising her eyebrows in amusement as she watched you at Ellie's side.

You nodded, just barely getting to respond before suddenly Connor was addressing you.

"Where are you coming from?" Connor asked, focusing his eyes on you.

"What?" You were a little caught off guard, not grasping the meaning of his question.

"Where are you coming from?"

"Oh. Um, my apartment?" You blinked at him, before realizing his curiosity must've been piqued by your bag. "Oh. No, I just like... Need to study," you responded, your words fumbled and awkward.

"Dedicated to your classes, I respect that," Connor responded, his smile growing slightly.

Ellie resisted the urge to scoff. Dedicated to your classes? Yeah, maybe. Knowing that you'd have a stomach ache due to anxiety all night if you didn't at least attempt to study? That was more likely.

You mumbled something in response, a forced laugh exiting your lips as Jesse and Dina genuinely laughed. They knew you well enough, anyway. They knew your effort was practically a futile one.

When you looked at Ellie, she made a face that indicated that she wanted to roll her eyes, but was holding back. It almost made you laugh, too.

The light conversations continued as the five of you made your way into the auditorium once the doors had finally opened. The room was actually pretty full, and Ellie couldn't help but wonder how many people were actually interested in the event, and how many had shown up because they shared a major with Dina and were also offered extra credit.

"I've heard this speaker before, actually. He's really good. Even if the content matter isn't the most... Interesting, he makes it engaging, at least," Connor said as you had walked through the rows of seats.

When Connor talked, it felt as though he was performing instead of participating in the conversation. It was almost unsettling, how his expression never faltered. Or maybe he was fine. Maybe Ellie was just tired and being judgmental. 

Jesse and Dina had agreed to sit in the back, so that’s where you all had gone. 

“When? Did you listen to him speak before, I mean?” 

Ellie’s head nearly snapped in your direction as you posed your question, her eyebrows drawing together. She didn’t really know why she was surprised that you were participating in the conversation, but she was. 

“It’s a yearly thing, right?” Jesse answers on behalf of Connor, glancing at him to confirm the answer. Connor nodded, and then you did, too. 

“Is it the same thing every time?” Your voice sounds again, another question as you had glanced between Jesse and Connor. 

“A… Sort of variation of it, I guess? But I swear, you won’t hate it. If you can spare a few seconds throughout your studying,” Connor joked, his eyebrow twitching upwards as he met your gaze. 

The corners of your lips faintly twitched before you tilted your head to look at Ellie, making instant eye contact. The action, however small, soothed whatever weird thoughts had started floating around Ellie’s head within the last two minutes. 

"Even if it's the most boring hour of my life, it's worth the damn extra credit," Dina concluded, causing a snort of laughter from Jesse.

"That's my intellectual," Jesse teased, earning a laugh from you and a groan from Ellie. Dina lightly shoved at his arm, but let him lace his fingers with her own anyway.

The interaction managed to hold Ellie's attention for a moment, until she felt you move away from her side.

The group of five had been standing in the aisle, lingering by a group of seats. You had moved to sit down though, evidently more seriously concerned with glancing over your textbook than Ellie had actually assumed. Ellie was going to turn back to Dina and Jesse and make some smart remark, until she noticed Connor moving to sit down, too.

Ellie's eyebrows practically furrowed as her eyes followed Connor's movements. It looked like he was intending on sitting down next to you, which didn't make sense. Why would he sit next to someone he had just met, like, five minutes ago? Jesse was right there, why wouldn't Connor wait to sit next to him? Or go find his own damn seat, somewhere else?

Ellie watched for a split second, tuning out the rest of Jesse and Dina's banter. No, yeah. Connor was definitely trying to sit next to you. Which didn't make sense. Right? Who does that?

"What are you studying for, anyway?" Connor was casually moving towards your seat, looking over you curiously.

"Uh, I was supposed to have an exam at the end of last week but the professor ended up being sick so... Now I have it tomorrow and I'm totally- Oh, sorry. It's for my-"

Ellie's feet are carrying her, rushed and fumbling as she moves through the aisle. She nearly tripped over the seats, passing Connor and immediately settling into the seat next to you. You cut off your own words as Ellie sat next to you, a smile replacing your previous expression.

"You got it," Ellie assured you softly, pretending Connor wasn't still looking at you.

"Yeah, right. You know I'm shit at exams. I always have been," you complained, chewing anxiously at your bottom lip. People were still filing into the auditorium, the seats filling up surprisingly quickly.

"Yeah, you have been," Ellie agreed, grinning when your jaw dropped at her. "But. You haven't managed to fail anything, either. Yet."

"Ellie," you groaned softly, exasperated and amused all at once. Ellie could tell.

"Bad test taker?" Connor muses, and Ellie's expression faltered. Jesus.

"Anxious test taker," you correct lightly.

Connor sat down then, in the seat next to Ellie. She almost feels as though she briefly goes rigid, and nearly wanted to whirl around to Jesse and tell him to get his friend. She also wants to tell you that you don't have to keep answering his questions, based on the way in which you're twisting your fingers in your lap and your gaze is flicking around.

"Understandable," Connor replied, and Ellie sat back in her chair. Understandable. What time was this thing supposed to start, anyway?

Jesse and Dina sat down then, with Jesse next to Connor and Dina at the end. The seating arrangement felt weird. It was uncomfortable, and Ellie began to fidget with her fingers in her lap. It was normally always just the four of them, but now there was some Connor separating them. Ellie tried to catch Dina or maybe Jesse's eyes, but they weren't looking, too caught up in their own conversation.

"What do you study?" Connor was talking past Ellie, directing his words at you.

Ellie took a small breath while you answered, mentally scolding herself for being so fucking weird. This was not a big deal. It was really, literally fine. Ellie was just tired, that's why she was feeling off. She was just tired. And the fact that a conversation was taking place over her wasn't helping.

"What do you study?" Ellie's gaze flickered in your direction as you spoke, before fixing back upon her Converse.

"B-"

You quickly cut Connor off, an assumptious expression appearing on your features. "Business?"

Ellie could tell even by your tone that you were trying not to roll your eyes.

Connor laughed, shaking his head. He leaned forward in his seat to get a better look at you, past Ellie. "Biology, actually."

"Oh. Huh. That's cool."

You looked surprised. Pleasantly surprised, maybe, if Ellie was willing to admit it to herself.

You stayed quiet though, because the auditorium lights started to dim, prompting the talking throughout the room to grow hushed.

Showing up had been a favor for Dina, so Ellie didn't feel too guilty about allowing her thoughts to wander. She tried, though, to focus on the lecture, because she didn't exactly like the direction in which her thoughts were wandering in.

Ellie focused partly on the speaker, and partly on the way in which you were sharing the armrest of the auditorium chair with her, your bare arm pressed against the sleeve of her hoodie. It was cold in the room, like Ellie had predicated, but your sweatshirt remained in your lap, under your textbook.

The contact was small and casual, nothing out of the ordinary. Still, Ellie's gaze flickered between the stage and your arm next to hers. Even from the brief contact, Ellie wondered if her hoodie would smell like your perfume later. Usually, her clothes always did.

You were seemingly focused on the speaker, though your textbook remained open on your lap. Occasionally you would glance down for a few moments, your fingers tracing over the paragraphs before you would look up once more. Ellie wasn't watching you, necessarily, but she could see you from out of the corner of her eye. Besides, she knew your habits.

It was about twenty minutes before Connor shifted in his seat, causing Ellie to stiffen. He leaned in close to Ellie's seat, but she knew instantly that it was so he could get closer to you.

"Do you have a pen? Or a pencil, or something?" Connor's voice was low and quiet, and Ellie attempted to stare straight ahead at the stage, as though he wasn't bordering a little too closely into her personal space.

You hesitated for only a second before leaning over to rummage through your bag, wordlessly passing a mechanical pencil around Ellie, handing it to Connor. Ellie spares a glance at you, noting the obvious confusion in your expression. Connor's arm is carefully reaching over then, grasping the corner of your textbook and pulling it off of your lap and towards himself.

Your eyebrows raised and your lips parted, almost as though you're going to mumble words in protest. You faltered at the sight of Connor scribbling something on one of the pages, any potential words failing you.

Jesse and Dina were completely oblivious. Ellie forced her gaze away, swallowing harshly.

When your textbook was returned to your lap, yourself and Ellie both looked down at the new markings on the page. Ellie's eyebrows slowly drew together at the sight of it.

A phone number. Connor had written his phone number.

It was bold. Stupidly annoying, and overbearing, Ellie thought. She felt a little too warm, suddenly, and maybe it wasn't as cold in the auditorium as she had originally thought. She briefly contemplated shedding her hoodie, but she didn't want to draw any attention to herself by moving around.

Ellie watched as you stared down at the written phone number. The exhale you released was shaky, and Ellie felt freakish for noticing the detail.

She couldn't tell, however, if you were flattered or annoyed. You always did tend to get weird whenever a guy showed any sort of interest in you. Refused to talk about it, like you were embarrassed or something. Rarely ever followed up on it, too.

You were always like that. It made Ellie paranoid. Paranoid that the feelings she had been harboring for longer than she would like to admit were obvious, paranoid that one of these days, you were going to give her some pathetic speech in an attempt to let her down easy.

Still, Ellie couldn't help the way in which her gaze drifted to Connor. Her eyes flickered over his features as she bit the inside of her cheek. You had dated before, sure. But the relationships were always few and far between, and they never really lasted long.

Ellie just figured you were avoidant. Or picky. Maybe both.

Was he the type of guy you would even be into?

Ellie swore under her breath, her eyes dragging back to focus upon the stage, upon the not really sure whatever the hell this guy was going on about but they had all shown up to support Dina's effort for extra credit lecture.

The hour felt slow with Connor in the seat next to Ellie, his phone number now etched onto the page of your textbook. Ellie wanted to erase it. Instead, she anchored her thoughts on the feeling of your arms pressed together.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧　

The sky was fully dark by the time that the event had ended, and Ellie walked you back to your apartment. She didn't need to, but she always did. She was a good friend like that.

Your face felt a little warm, the knowledge of Connor's phone number on the page causing your textbook to feel more weighted in your bag.

As September progressed, it continued to grow colder at night. The wind pushed leaves across the sidewalk, the sound comforting during the day but bordering on eerie once it was night. You were wearing your sweatshirt now.

"You gonna text him?" Ellie asked, nearly wincing as the words left her lips. They sounded so awkward. Despite all of your years of friendship, the two of you had never seemed to quite get a grip on talking about relationships, or girls or boys or whatever. It always felt a little unnatural, which didn't necessarily suit your dynamic.

"Who? Connor?"

"Yeah. Connor."

"Why would I text him?" You held the door open for Ellie, the two of you stepping into your apartment building. It wasn't even very late, but it was quiet. Your steps seemed to echo throughout the hallway.

"Because he gave you his phone number?" Ellie snorted, rolling her eyes as she jabbed the button for the elevator.

"I don't know why he did that," you mumbled.

You really didn't know why he would do that. Well, you could assume. But it still didn't make sense. It made you feel a little gross, for some reason, even though he had been perfectly polite. And the fact that it made you feel gross, made you feel guilty in turn.

"Besides. I'm like... Too busy. With class, and work. And... Hanging out with you," you added, stepping into the elevator after Ellie.

"You are so full of it," Ellie grinned, rolling her eyes.

"Shut up. It's our last year, we need to soak it in before it's over. Like, make memories and stuff."

"Last ye- Jesus. You're already thinking about that?"

"It's almost over," you pointed out, shooting Ellie a sideways glance.

"It's September. Holy shit. You're already worried about that?"

"Ellie-"

"I know," Ellie relented instantly, evidently wanting to be spared the sentimental, nostalgic spiel for the night. Besides, she did somewhat have a point. Maybe you were jumping the gun, a little. You couldn't exactly help it, though. You were sentimental to your core, rooted and grown with nostalgia for as long as you could remember.

"But you have plenty of memories with me. You do realize that, right?"

It was your turn to roll your eyes now, and you purposely bumped into Ellie as you exited from the elevator, stepping onto your floor.

"Whatever. I don't care. I don't want to text him, alright? I just... don't." You felt a little sick to your stomach, and you couldn't figure out if it was because you were trying to justify it to Ellie or to yourself.

"But wh-"

"If you're so concerned about it, why don't you text him?" You interrupted, essentially joking in response but your tone had come out just a little too defensive.

"Ha. Yeah right," Ellie mumbled, slowing to a stop as you reached your door.

"I'm glad I went tonight," You said then, attempting to change the subject.

You catch Ellie's quick expression, and you can only assume that she's instantly wondering if you will text Connor after all. "I love getting to hang out with you," you clarified, not wanting her to get the wrong idea. "And Dina. And Jesse."

Ellie shook her head, just barely managing to conceal her grin. "God, you're a sap. You're no better than you were when you were fifteen, you know that?"

"Don't care. Look, are you gonna stay?"

"Stay? I don't have anything with me. Plus, I thought you were supposed to be studying tonight."

You pretended not to be disappointed, but you were. Honestly, you were a sap. Especially when it came to Ellie. You couldn't help how much you loved being around her. When you were younger, your parents warned you about dedicating all of your time to only just one friend, but it had only continued to prove to be worth it. You were completely enamored with Ellie.

You told yourself it was platonic. You always told yourself it was platonic.

Only your journal knew otherwise.

"Fine. Go, since you can't wait to get away from me." Your words were dry but you grinned at Ellie, fumbling with your key to unlock the door.

"Yeah yeah, whatever." Ellie stepped away once your door was unlocked, retrieving her own keys from her pocket. "Good luck tomorrow, though. Lunch after?"

"Yeah, definitely," you breathed out, grateful to have something to look forward to following your exam. "Text me when you get back safe. Love you," you called after Ellie once she was halfway down the hallway.

Ellie gave you a brief thumbs up in response.

Upon entering your apartment, you flipped on your lights and kicked off your shoes, carefully tucking them next to the door. After slinging the strap of your bag over a chair, you were already reaching into your pocket for your phone.

you

so you're really not staying

ellie <3

???

ellie <3

If I leave my car here overnight again I'll get another ticket

you

just wanted to hang out

ellie <3

Clingy

you

i know you are

you

i can see you in the parking lot 😁

ellie <3

🤨

ellie <3

On my way! back up

ellie <3

Fuck

ellie <3

On my way!

ellie <3

Omw jfc pack a bag

you

<<33 gimme 5 min

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧　

[ tags : ]

@mmmil3na @elliescoolerwife @fortune777 @boobdrug @spamfromali @seraphicsentences @muthafuckingstargirl @bready101

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

imagine logan seeing you again, pt. 2

logan x reader

summary: In his universe, Logan and you were in love. Then you died. Now he's in a different timeline and you are very much alive.

warning: some deadpool x wolverine spoilers. this takes place after the movie. under 1k words.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The street was typically crowded for a Wednesday afternoon, but the hot dog in your hand lathered away all the annoyance from being shoulder checked every so often. The first bite awakened your entire body, and you felt amorous joy. It was a mild weather day and Wade had given you the task of entertaining his new roommate. Logan stood in front of you, seemingly annoyed at the way you were ignoring him and making love to the wiener in your mouth.

“You eat like a pig.”

“Oink…oink…” you murmured, finishing the dog with another anxious bite. He looked disgusted and you amused, as he checked his watch. “Stop acting like you have somewhere to be, you have nothing going on in your life at the moment.”

“Aren’t you a bed of roses.”

Ignoring him, you wiped your hands off and tossed away the napkins. “So, I personally think this is a major waste of time since I gather, you’d rather just hit up a local bar and gorge yourself into oblivion. But I told Laura I’d at least try to get you to do something fun.”

Logan, being the ray of sunshine he was, grunted but then asked how the young girl was doing. “You didn’t have to take her in.”

The two of you starting, well, just walking. There was no real plan for the day, you just picked up Logan from Wade’s apartment and told the Wolverine he was going on a little walk. Like the good little doggy he was – of course, he didn’t appreciate that last bit, but he didn’t object to the idea.

“I honestly don’t mind. It’s nice having a roommate, she’s quiet though. She’s teaching me Spanish, so that’s nice. Are you hungry?”

“You just had a hot dog.”

“It’s called an appetizer, Logan…I know a really good burger place nearby.”

He said nothing and the two of you fell into a silent pace, Logan feeling beside himself. Even a bit ashamed for stealing glances your way. You looked just like her, you – it was confusing and ultimately, he wasn’t sure what to feel. At the party, he thought he felt something and when he saw you afterwards – helping Laura settling into your apartment, it had killed him. Seeing you happy, like you always wanted. In a small apartment, instead of a huge mansion with no privacy. The X-Men were your family but there had been plenty of times when you had confessed to Logan for some peace and quiet. It wasn’t like you wanted to abandon the school, the people you loved – you just wanted a place for Logan and you. As he watched that day, moving things around for Laura, he felt peace. At least, in this universe, you got what you wanted.

“Logan?”

He apologized. “Burger sounds good.”

The man looked conflicted, and you wanted to make a funny comment, observation but something in you decided not to. Instead, you stole little peeks, he wasn’t as old as the Logan from this world, but he had some miles on him. He wasn’t exactly hard to look at either with that whole hard ass guise to him. Wade had highly under played Logan’s attractiveness and what a petty bitch he was. This thought made you chuckle loud enough to gain a look from your companion. He asked what was so funny, you said nothing.

“So, what are your plans now that you’re anchored here?”

“That would be the million-dollar question.”

“I could hook you up with an old team of mine?”

“Absolutely not.”

You began to rattle off different occupations Logan could take up – line cook, bounty hunter, librarian. The latter piqued your interest a little too much with the mere thought of Logan wearing studious glasses and a gray knit sweater making you warm. “I would definitely read more.”

He laughed, maybe even smiled. “Not a fat chance.”

“A girl could try,” you shrugged, nodding ahead. The diner was in view and Logan followed you across the street. He opened the door, and you thanked him, slightly embarrassed that you were feeling some type of way. Horny? Yikes. Maybe. It had been a while and you hardly knew Logan but that might have been the thrill. Feeling silly, you lead the man to a booth in the corner and you settled across from him. The waitress came over and slipped menus to each of you. Logan asked for a coffee while he gazed down at the limited selection of food, and you asked for a Diet Coke. You watched Logan curiously, trying to guess what he’d ordered. He didn’t seem like the type to be experimental with his meals. So, a burger combo would be the best guess and you were completely right. When the waitress came back to take your orders, Logan ordered a burger combo while you asked for a BLT. He thanked the woman and relaxed against the vinyl booth, looking out the window as people walked by.

“Is it different?”

He answered with a quick no, and you apologized for repeatedly asking that. “It’s just crazy to think about other universes, other versions of ourselves out there. Would it be weird to ask if I looked the same?”

Logan stared at you and felt his heart sink. You were beautiful, you were but he could see the differences between the woman he loved and the woman in front of him. Your eyes were filled with energy, hair a lighter tone in color, skin darker – it was like he was seeing an inverted version of the you he knew. Here, in this world, you seemed more carefree, and he was happy about it. Back home, all you ever did was worry. He never really saw you truly happy and he wondered if it was because he had loved you. In this fuck of a place, Logan and you had never interacted. Your paths never crossed and maybe that’s why you were so content. He managed an uncomfortable smile and shrugged. “Pretty much the same.”

Your face fell as the waitress arrived with the drinks. Logan took his and sipped the coffee, hoping you’d move on. It had taken much effort to even look at you now, his heart racing so fast he wanted nothing more to do than leave. Like a coward, run away. It would be so much easier than facing whatever look was in your eyes – what answer did you want? What did you want to hear? Logan felt like somehow you knew the truth and that this was all just a ploy to extract it from him but then you smiled, and a nerve was hit. A good one that had Logan glancing out the window.

“I was hoping I’d have green hair or something,” you laughed lightly. “Oh, well. Green isn’t really my color.  Listen, thanks for being such a good sport in all this. For that, how about I take you out for some beers tomorrow night? Unless you got something going on? Which we both know you don’t.”

No.

If he wanted to be a good person with his second chance he was given, that’s what he should have said. No drinks, no weird lunches, no stolen glances. He should have never agreed to even see you again, if he really wanted to change then he would have said no. In fact, he should slowly ease himself out of this friendship you were trying to establish, because what good could come of it? Everyone he loves always dies, his version of you did. Right in his arms, the last thing you felt was his warm embrace. That thought alone should have sent him packing but your eyes on him – understanding, the way your fingers played with the straw from your drink in anticipation and the friendly smile on your face, it was too much for Logan. How could he resist?

Was this a form of self-torture?

If so, he was in, but he was going to need a buffer.

“A few beers sound great, but only one condition.”

Surprised, you agreed. “Anything.”

Logan sighed. Deeply. “As much as this pains me, you gotta invite numb nuts.”

.............

leave comment for a tag. (I tagged those from the OG post who seemed interested in seeing a second part)

@pushingdaisies1 @johnnysilverhandeeznuts @murderhousemuse

@carolinameinicke @abysswhiskey11 @weallhaveadestiny

@cosmiccandydreamer @airwolf92 @fidgetingbee

@bananarepublic58 @ilove-sexydilfsnmilfs @an-tkc @wotcherboo

@theslvttysimp @cauqhtz @ittoscumdump @sad0ni0n

@lostinspace33 @corpse-ihte71 @somekale08

@britthiddlesbatch @doradora8008 @aheadfullofsteverogers

@erikaafernns @justkennadi @tinalbion @tomukit

[angelicabunny]

Bookworm.

summary: getting caught reading smut while having to spend the night with chris.

warnings: reader x chris, no established relationship, smutty smut, unprotected sex (don’t be silly), a little swearing.

requested: yes !!

wordcount: 1,563.

quick little a/n: this took my whole soul to write 😭 i hope it’s okay <33 also to the person who requested this a whole ass month ago i’m so sorry babe 😭😭. and i was half asleep while i proofread this, so im so sorry if theres mistakes xoxooo

i let out a small yawn as i sat around the large wooden table with nick and chris. matt had already said his goodnights and helped packed the cameras away after about an hour and a half of filming content.

"tired already?" nick asked jokingly.

i hummed in response while grabbing my book from the other side of the table. the crisp scent of pages filling my nose as i flicked through them looking for my book mark.

"what a nerd." chris teased while giggling.

"leave her alone," nick said, "we can head up to bed now if you'd like?"

nick and i were close, so of course each night i spent at their house we had sleepovers like little kids again, making dumb jokes and giggling all night.

he shut his laptop and tucked it under his arm as he got up, signaling for me to follow him, in the corner of my eye i watched as chris got up and headed the other direction, down the stairs.

i tiptoed up the stairs following nick, his hands lazily pushing the door open before he sunk down onto his bed, immediately opening his laptop to keep editing. i got straight into reading, i had been dying to finish this chapter, especially because it was one of the more interesting chapters.

about thirty minutes had passed and not a single word was spoken from nick. nothing but frustrated huffs and tossing and turning as he typed away. i shut my book before putting it down onto the silk covers.

"nick i can leave if you'd like, go hang with chris, i'm sure he wouldn't mind?" i quietly said not wanting to ruin his focus.

"really? are you sure, i'm really sorry i'm just so behind in editing." he replied.

"of course," i said while holding my hand onto his, "have a good night." i smiled before walking out of the room quietly, book and phone in hand.

i quietly made my way down both flights of stairs not wanting to wake matt. i stood in front of chris's door, my ear pressed against it, the faint sound of music playing let me know he was still awake. i tapped lightly on the door before opening it and poking my head in. the scent of a coconut candle intertwined with chris's scent filling my nose.

"come in," he said faintly his attention still on his phone before turning his head to see who it was, "oh hey." he said with a smile, patting the spot on the bed next to him inviting me to lay down.

i filled the spot next to him, lying on my stomach before reopening my book. he lied next to me on his back, one hand holding his head up as the other scrolled on his phone.

i looked at my page while trying to contain myself, excited for what was coming. my fingers gripping the cover tighter than before, my teeth lightly biting down on my bottom lip, my legs now squeezed together trying to satisfy the heat growing in between them.

i was so lost in a trance i forgot chris was beside me. he had changed positions and was now facing me, head propped up on one arm, his blue eyes locked onto mine. i felt heat rising in my cheeks before quickly closing my book.

“what?” i asked shyly.

“nothing,” he replied, his voice deeper and raspier than usual, “what’s so good about that book anyways, it’s got you acting like a damn book worm.”

“it’s just interesting, i guess.” i said sheepishly, not mentioning the fact i was reading straight smut with him right next to me.

“let me see.” he said while trying to grab the book. my reflexes instantly pulled it away from him, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“it’s really boring, trust me you won’t like it.” i said bluntly trying to keep my cool. i turned my gaze away from him to play it off, my book sitting in one hand with one finger inserted to keep my place. before i could react he snatched the book from my hand while giggling, opening to the page i had saved.

“chris-!” i whisper yelled not wanting to disturb the rest of the house, my hands flying over to him. he turned away and held the book out of my reach. his eyes frantically scanning the page as the corners of his swollen pink lips turned up. i turned away from him, burying my face into my hands.

“here's your book back.” he said while trying to wave it at me, my face still turned away from him. “you don't have to be embarrassed you know.”

“are you serious chris!” i replied while turning my body to face him, snatching the book from his hands. “that’s so embarrassing.”

“not really,” he said while taking me in with his eyes, “i see why you’re so interested in that book now.” he continued while licking his lips slightly.

i found it hard to keep my gaze locked with his, my core still throbbing, a wetness coating me. his lips parted while his chest rose and fell.

“what do you mean?” i asked innocently, placing the book on the bedside table before propping my head up on one arm to match his position.

his eyes fell from mine, moving to my body, taking me in. his hand placing itself on my side exposed by the short top that hugged my skin, i felt myself shudder beneath his touch as he stroked me lightly. his finger hooked around my waistband, toying with it, asking for permission almost.

"chris," i whispered, "we can't."

"mm, why not." he replied huskily while still playing with the fabric of my sweats.

"nick might hear." i said while slowly moving his hand from my side, keeping it in mine as i watched his eyes.

"c'mon, you have to be at least a little freaky if you're reading shit like that," he teased, "i've wanted you for so long, don't pretend you havent noticed ma." he continued speaking while watching my lips.

i looked down in defeat before moving my face closer to his, closing the gap in between us. my mouth hovered above his as he breathed lightly coating my lips in a hot air.

before i could say anything his hand gripped my face roughly pulling me into him, his lips showing how hungry he was for my own. he broke the kiss only to move to my neck, leaving harsh bites before soothing them with his tongue. i rushed to take my sweats off, tossing them to the floor leaving me in nothing but a short top and black panties.

"turn over," he said while pulling away, "all fours baby."

i followed his demands and pressed my face into the pillow, facing the side of the room where a large mirror sat, i watched him in the mirror as he pulled his sweats down letting them rest below his thighs, followed by his boxers. his cock sprung out hitting the fabric of his shirt as he causing him to let out a hiss through his teeth. his tip red and needy, leaking with precum.

"try and be quiet." he said while rubbing my lower back with his hands. i hummed in response while still watching him in the mirror as he lazily tugged on his cock before lining it up with my entrance, rubbing it up and down my slit, collecting my arousal before placing his tip into me.

"god you're wet."

he let out a quiet grunt before bottoming out, reaching places i could never on my own. i clenched onto the bedsheets trying to contain my whimpers, my knuckles going white.

quiet moans and curses left his mouth as my ass bounced off his pelvis, the sound of our skin slapping filling the room.

“oh god chris” i moaned, not being able to stay quiet anymore.

“shh baby, don’t wanna get caught now do we?” he gripped my waist as he spoke, pulling me into him harder.

i could feel my slick dripping down my thighs as he picked his pace up, my eyes having no place to go but the back of my head. we both gave up on being quiet a while ago, more whimpers and groans filled the room.

“mmh, s-so close.” i said pathetically while gripping onto the pillow.

with one quick movement he pulled out and flipped me over, his eyes now locked onto mine as he pushed back in.

“i wanna see your pretty face while you cum.” he breathed out.

his thrust becoming harder as i came closer to the edge, the feeling growing at my core as my nails dug into his back for support.

“oh f-fuck.” i whimpered, feeling the waves of pleasure fill me.

his eyes watching my face twist in pleasure, his thrusts getting sloppier.

“s-shit.” he stuttered before snapping his hip into me, his warm cum filling me up as he left a soft kiss on my lips.

both out of breath while he pulled out of my softly, fixing my underwear and his pants.

“why don’t i clean you up?” he said quietly while looking over at the bathroom door.

i nodded in response while kissing him softly, his fingers running through my hair.

[rosedpetal]

For You

Summary: You decide to gift Chase before Christmas.

Pairing: Robert Chase x Reader

Word count: 403

Masterlist

He waited for the coffee machine to fill his cup, a tired sigh leaving his lips. It was freezing today, and he cursed himself for not wearing gloves again before leaving his apartment.

"Morning, sunshine." You chipped, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Robert didn't want to give you a snarky answer so early in the morning, but he was cold, tired, and the damn coffee machine wasn't warming up fast enough. So he just groaned in response, careful not to hurt your feelings.

"Robert? Look at me." You said very quietly and he controlled the urge to roll his eyes, turning to face you, and when he did, he froze. You held a package wrapped in red, a golden bow on it. "This is for you."

Your sheepish smile disarmed him, and he took the gift from your hands, opening it with care. Inside the package, was a pair of wool gloves. "I knitted them myself!"

God, you were adorable. With your cheeks flushed from the cold, your pretty hair in a braid, and your eyes twinkling with anticipation at his reaction. He couldn't help but wrap his arms around you, making you squeal in delight.

It wasn't Christmas, nor his birthday.

He was grateful. But puzzled, at the same time.

"Why?"

Robert has known you for a couple years now since House opened a new spot on his team and immediately took a liking to you with your weird sense of humor, gentle demeanor and humbleness.

"I've seen you try to warm your hands up for the past few days, and I had to do something about it." You explained, a light blush creeping on your cheeks.

Robert considered you carefully, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You have a crush on me."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

You huffed in annoyance.

"You totally have a crush on me!" Robert smirked. "Wow, is it the accent? The hair? The eyes?"

"Gimme my gloves back." You crossed your arms over your chest, a little pout forming in your lips.

"NO." He said, quickly putting your handmade gift on. His heart fluttered at how warm and fuzzy they felt, and he had to fight the urge to pinch your cheeks. "My gloves. Mine."

Your blush deepened, and you immediately took your seat at the table when you spotted House limping his way to the room.

[hypnagogics]

tloutopia co-president craves sub!ellie getting oral but reader has a tongue piercing.. yeah.

before you read!

☆: dearest co-president your brain…we shall display it in the most ornate jar encrusted with shimmering gems of the utmost quality our hard-working miners retrieved in tloutopia’s mines located in the outskirts of our nation, so every citizen shall look upon the genius it cooks up. sigh, i want a tongue piercing now. n this pic of her...AWOOOOOO anyway.

◇: SMUT!! (quite messy) oral, sub!ellie, vibrating tongue jewelry (heh), reader's kinda mean, a little overstim, squirting, multiple orgasms, reader’s a MUNCHHHH, all small text & lowercase for the aesthetic and for a change (apparently y'all prefer that n i will say it does slap…). feel this is kinda lackluster but eh. + 1.4k wc

“behave, ellie, or i'm not gonna touch you more.” the stern, yet mild order fell on deaf ears, your girlfriend squirming on top of the colorful sheets of her bed, stark bare as the day she was born.

you enjoyed making her wait, finding a sort of sick satisfaction in watching her discomfort, the wild need for release overtaking her entire being.

you relished her pained expression, copper eyebrows knitted together and emerald eyes screwed shut, cerise-pink lip taken tightly between her teeth, with a crimson blush covering her face, rendering her galaxy of freckles invisible.

what you loved even more, however, were the almost animalistic cues her body sent you, like her chest swelling and falling, akin to the ocean tides, adorned with her perky tits and rosy nipples, pebbled from the room's chilly air and erotic nature of your activities, just begging to be played with.

“please, c'mon, i'm tryin’. need you so bad, uhh.” she whined, voice thin and breathy. you stayed watching for a moment more, noticing the way her glossy folds spasmed with the need for contact.

you could just sit there by her splayed knees for years, just looking. but you never resisted giving her what she so desperately needs, you'd never leave her hanging without any sort of reward.

“patience, ‘kay? you look so pretty like this, i just wanna take it all in.” she pouted and sighed, “how hard d’you want me to beg, because i will. please. i just need you- ah!”

you decided she had waited plenty, and cut her plea off with the pad of your thumb to her pulsing clit, and two fingers inside her dripping pussy. they slid in embarrassingly easy, and in no time at all her back was arching off the mattress, knuckles turning a milky white from how hard she was gripping the sheets on either side of her.

“yesyesyes, fuckkk- mmm.” she was lost in the pleasure of a few simple motions, the pumping in and out and circling up above, already gushing around your digits and whining uncontrollably, but you didn't want this to stop just there. you had a very special surprise for her resting just behind your lips, some new jewelry to try.

it was common knowledge ellie loved your tongue piercing, she preached there was nothing better. whenever you ate her out, the chilly metal ball against her heated folds provided a sensation unlike any other, turning her mind to a fucked out mess after the lightest brush. and as a matter of fact, that was a win-win situation, considering buried between her thighs was your favorite place to be.

but she had no clue what was currently in your mouth would increase that exponentially, new vibrating jewelry you purchased in secret. you couldn't wait to see her reaction to it, so you felt alright with torturing her a bit beforehand.

you retracted your fingers from her pussy, almost feeling bad. “no, no, why'd you do that, come on. you're so mean…what the fuck.” she panted in desperation, her eyes filling with tears from your rudeness. “i was so close too…” she whimpered, looking genuinely defeated. “sorry ellie, but i got somethin’ even better for you.”

you stuck out your tongue, the large pill-shaped ball gleaming with your spit. “that's a new one.” she said without emotion, unimpressed. now you had to make it up to her.

leaning over her, you brought your lips to hers, kissing her deeply, intertwining your tongue with hers and swallowing every tiny pant that left her. then you moved down, kissing her neck, sucking the delicate skin in your mouth, leaving blooming raspberry marks to admire later. you then went to her chest, feeling her shudder whenever your teeth grazed her nipples. all while ever so often looking up at her through half-lidded eyes, you were relieved to see a blissful smile on her pretty face.

you kissed all the way down her stomach and wispy happy trail, then skipped down to her parted thighs, gently nipping at the soft, creamy flesh. she had hoisted herself up to rest on her elbows, eager to watch you work your magic, strands of hair falling in her eyes.

finally you moved in to lick a stripe up her slit, reinserting your fingers inside her pussy, curling upwards and sending strong waves of pleasure throughout her body. 

she falls back off her elbows, breathing heavily while you're devouring her, drinking up her nectar. you make sure to run your piercing against her clit just how she likes it, causing her to jerk and hiss at every tap, the cold sensation a shock to her system, before sucking the bud into your mouth. 

above, she's whining and moaning, incoherent noises slipping from her pouty lips, and pleas for more filling the air. “that's so good…please don't stop, please.” her hand flew to grab the back of your head, holding you close to her so you wouldn't move away. the way she was reacting, how her voice was breaking, and the way she let you push her legs even further apart to dive in as much as you could was heaven for you as is, you almost forgot something very important. 

now it was time for the star of the show.

you paused to turn it on with a click, the buzzing louder than you had anticipated. she looked down at you with a cocked eyebrow, but then you attached the vibrating bit to her clit, causing her to squeal from the intensity. 

you didn't move your tongue, letting your fingers do all the work below, prodding against her g-spot repeatedly, massaging the soft tissue. she was whining and writhing about, her thighs closing tightly around your head. it was like she was trying to suffocate you, but you would happily die that way.

a few cries of your name later, the orgasm hit her like a truck, the knot in her abdomen snapping forcefully, her grip on your head was so strong, it hurt. when the peak passed you continued working her through it, licking and sucking, the vibrations of the jewelry providing an incomprehensible amount of pleasure to her.

even when she was twitching and jolting from the sensations, you didn't let up just yet, too entranced by her taste, utterly pussy-drunk. your fingers slowed, but your tongue remained on her thumping clit, the buzzing of the device never faltering. “what the- oh my guhhh”. she slurred as the second orgasm overtook her, walls firmly clenching around your digits and her eyes rolling back in her skull from the all consuming pleasure.

she squirted all over your face too, the warm liquid trickling down your chin, filling your mouth with the taste. “so fuckin' sweet,” you murmured against her, the vibrations of your voice shooting up through her spine, her choked moans dancing though the air.

your grip on her hips got tighter as you continued through it all, lapping up every drop, and listening to the symphony of gasps falling from her lips. “too much, too much..” she whispered upon coming down from it, and it took great effort on your end to turn the ring off and separate yourself from her. she just had you hooked. you did so slowly, trailing wet, open mouthed kisses all over her still-tense thighs and waist. 

she looked dazed, but satisfied beyond belief, a thin sheen of sweat making her glow like an angel, you thought, her chest rising and falling steadily as the relaxation and exertion set in. you climbed up to lay next to her, and hold her tightly against you.

happy murmurs fell from her lips as you cozied up right next to her, then she started chuckling, her face bright red. “that thing’s powerful, shit. never get rid of it.” you guffawed at her comment, you’re glad she had a good time, and mumbled praises to her temple, “you did so good, so good for me, els.” she grinned widely and squeezed you close to her, giggling as she said one last, mischievous thing. “i'm booking a tongue piercing appointment now, just you wait!” it seems you were in for a treat.

[charmedreincarnation]

When I say that this journey is real, and our struggles are not in vain, I am shouting it from the rooftops. A month ago, I woke up with my dream life. Obsessed with the "void state", I woke up one day being the same person but with an entirely new life. All because I chose it.

Your efforts aren't going unnoticed. The universe is always on your side. You are the universe. It's been a month, and I still feel overwhelmed with joy and wonder every single day.

I was once poor and battling depression, a reality many can relate to. But we found the law because we knew we deserved more. You can be ordinary, flawed, even unkind, but you can choose to transform and have it all. And I did just that. My parents, who were illegal immigrants working underpaid jobs, are now wealthy and respected figures. My last name alone garners recognition, and I am a socialite earning money just by being me.

I used to live in an attic infested with cockroaches. Now, I reside in a four-story mansion, complete with exotic cars, house help, cooks, drivers - all treated and compensated fairly. We also own three other houses across the United States.

I was once insecure, severely underweight, and bullied. Today, not only am I stunningly beautiful, but I am also praised for my fashion sense. I was once a dull person, but now I am radiant with positivity.

I attended an underfunded school where I was bullied, and teachers lacked resources to intervene. Now, I study at a prestigious private school that assures my entry into an Ivy League university. Finally, I am respected and appreciated.

I was lonely and uninteresting. Now, I am vibrant with a close-knit group of friends and a man who seems straight out of a Wattpad story. He's perfect, and he's mine.

This transformation happened overnight. And I've been on this journey since 2020. But how??? I surrendered to my imagination!

The void was overwhelming, but now I can easily navigate it. I was tired of giving my power away. So, I gave in to myself, to my dreams. I knew I deserved it. Even if I didn't believe it at times, I made the choice. If you desire something, it's already yours. It's done.

I didn't have a list or anything of my desires, just a vision of happiness. I didn't know what it looked like, but I knew how it felt. Now, I embody that feeling every day. My life is a series of plot twists. It's not perfect, but my worst days now are what I once prayed for. That old life? POOF It's gone. All I have is now, and I'm living it to the fullest.

My advice?

Stop seeking proof. If you're looking for proof, you'll never manifest your dreams because the only thing that needs to change is self. Doubt is a reflection of your disbelief in yourself. When I surrendered to my imagination, it didn't matter who was lying or telling the truth, because I had my truth. The burden of proof lies within you. It's called the law of assumption. You might harbor some doubt, but you must have faith like the devout. They believe without proof. You can too! We all can! Believe in yourself, and the universe will conspire in your favor!!!!

I agree! Your words resonated with me a lot. Faith, particularly self-faith, is such an important tool in shaping our realities. The ability to trust ourselves, our desires, and our potential is essential in manifesting our dream life, and it’s only so beautiful to slowly see yourself give yourself all your trust when you’ve never even liked yourself.

You're spot on about the issue of seeking confirmation from others. It's an unnecessary hurdle that we give ourselves but it’s human nature. Our truths and dreams should not be validated by anyone else but us. As you said, why should it matter if someone lied or told the truth? We are the creators of our own lives and thus, the only validation we need comes from within.

And I wholeheartedly agree with your point about deservingness. We don't have to earn our desires or prove ourselves worthy of them. If we want something, that desire alone makes us deserving of it.

More importantly I am very proud and happy for you !!!! You’re a testament of what our own imagination can do for us and I hope you only keep getting happier and happier <3!!!!

[2-dsimp]

Aaaaah Judas is too cute and horny i just want to pamper him until the very end <3

Yandere company Bros

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Cw: NSFW MDNI fem reader creampie, gaslighting, possessive/obsessive tendencies, slight praise, overstimulation, Judas being touch starved for your affection, mentions of marathon sex, office sex, exhibition, Judas being a simp,

☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡.

Synopsis: 【From Seeing your Boss and lover going through a dire case of burn out, you decided to offer your services via pampering him and treating him like royalty. But it looks like you bit off more than you can chew. As he’s going absolutely feral from you allowing him to work out his frustrations on your pliant body.】

☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. .｡.:*

“You said you’d pamper me for the entire day… Was that a lie love?”

Judas rasped softly into your ear as he coiled an arm around your middle in gentle but firm hold. He had you bent over his office desk with a hand pressed against your mouth to conceal the melodious sounds of you going on a downwards spiral of depravity. He was practically glued to your ass letting out soft pants as he felt his balls twitch from the way your love canal spasmed on his long hard length that was buried so deep that you thought your guts were getting rearranged.

“You promised me, your everything. Are you trying to go back on your word darling? Please don’t let that be the case. I think I’d cry if it was.”

The Eldest Kinen murmured lowly. As he buried his face in the crook of your neck pressing heated kisses at your pluse.

“Do you want that? To see me cry? To see me go mad from how much I need you? To see how much I crave to imprint my dick deep inside of you, so that I know you’re finally all mine?”

His voice was so needy and yet gentle, While he fluidly rocked his hips against yours into a grinding motion. Making you give a muffled keen into his palm from how his throbbing shaft rammed into that spongey spot nestled within your molten core.

“Judas—please!”

You mewled softly against his hand that you lightly clawed at. So you could make him hear what you had to say. Noticing your efforts Judas slid his palm down slightly from your mouth so he could get a clear response from you. He was desperate to know what possessed you to try and weasel out of his messy office. After being such a temptress.

“Juu…We can’t go a 4th time there’s a meeting to be held in 30min—“

Not even letting you finish he abruptly pulled out allowing some goop of his seed to leak out of your abused pussy only to plunge back savagely into your wet heat. Stifling a cry of pleasure at the delicious sensation of being buried inside you once more.

“Do you think I care about that meeting right now when I’ve got my beloved looking so precious on my cock right now?”

Judas said breathily, letting his stoic persona crack whenever he was in close quarters with you. His eye brows were tightly knitted as he bared his weight down against you pressing your front flat against the desk.

"Nng! You're so tight, so warm, so welcoming. From the moment I saw you I knew that you were the one that I was made for."

His hands gripped your hips tightly, anchoring his rod to penetrate your gushing cunt as much as he could. Before he began to move, his hips pounding into you with a relentless rhythm. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through his body.

“God, how I've wanted this, needed this for so long. I've dreamt of making love to you whenever I close my eyes at night. Marking you as mine. And Becoming all yours in the process.”

The workaholic confessed, his voice filled with raw need. His need to apply all his pent up urges of loving you wholly with his entire being. Overpowering any sense of restraint he had previously. As He reveled in the way your body responded to his touch, the way you moaned and writhed beneath him.

“So please pamper me until the end just like you said. I promise to be good for you, all I need in exchange is you.”

The Eldest whimpered pathetically, tears welling up from his thick lashes from the self induced overstimulation. As he frantically mapped the expanse of your lushious body greedily grabbing ahold of whatever piece of you he could get to hoard for himself. He was cheesing from his ears getting blessed by your adorable squeals and moans from getting railed against his desk.

“Mmn I’m so close, I’m gonna cum again inside you. Fuck you’re so fucking beautiful when you make those cute sounds for me”

He rambled dumbly, with his jaw slackened from relishing in the feeling of his member getting strangled by your pulpy walls that enticed him to drive his heavy cock into you fully. Making his mushroom tip kiss your cervix as his balls continued to tighten immensely from the impending release threatening to escape his body.

With one final, powerful slam of his pelvis against the meat of your ass. Judas released a torrent of his hot, thick cum inside you. The feeling of his seed filling your womb sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, triggering your own release. As your legs quivered while your quim gushed around his pulsating meat for the last time drenching his happy trail with your slick and juices.

“I love you so fucking much, Accepting everything that I have to give to you. I love being yours. I’m so happy you chose me…”

He pressed a series of kisses trailing from your neck to your jaw. Until he tilt your head slightly to give you a smoldering kiss as his chest let out a deep, guttural rumble of pure happiness. While he continued to hump your pussy just to make sure he’s given all of his pure love to his darling. Making you whine in embarrassment from the sound of his seed mixing with your fluids filling the room. You just knew that the whole workplace was gonna be talking about you two.