#the last one is a bit of a stretch both figuratively and literally but its crazy to me that he saw a hole the size of a finger

[rpfisfine]

aleksa small penis moments

[b0nten]

HOW ARE BABIES MADE?

[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷｡ ran, rindou, sanzu, takeomi, kakucho, mikey and izana being asked by their children how babies are made.

[NOTES] ˚⁀➷｡ reader is implied to be fem, reader is called “mother”, “mommy” etc. this was so fun to write!!! thank you anon for requesting <3 also, i used tenjiku&bonten characters but everything’s taking place in the final timeline.

RAN is definitely the type to try to explain the entire thing, without any second thoughts whatsoever. He’d definitely hear the question, and open his mouth but before gets to say ‘sex’ he feels a book flat against his head. “what do you think you’re doing?” you whisper-yell from the kitchen, curry udon long forgotten on the stove. “explaining to your daughter how she spawned into the world?” he answers, dodging another decor item that you aimed toward him. upon asking, dramatically and over-exaggeratedly of course, so offended because he just doesn’t know what he was doing wrong, you just stare at him. “we agreed to tell her when she’s 14. she doesn’t even know boys have dicks and you want to explain the entirety of sex and how it goes to her? do you even know how it works?” he sighs, defeated, “let’s go eat, sweetheart, i think i made mommy a lil mad.” he says, picking up his daughter, “that last part was uncalled for, by the way.” “suck it up, mr. club owner. ”

meanwhile, RINDOU simply freezes: “daddy, how are babies made?” what? excuse him? oh my lord, he did not expect this to happen this early. why the hell is his five year old son asking him about coital activity, right when you’re not around? fuck him (himself), fuck this situation, fuck you for not being around right now (both figuratively and literally). “you see! when… uhm.. when two people love each other and they kiss, they make a baby!” he mentally face-palms for what the fuck he just said. “so you can’t kiss girls until you’re twenty-one, yeah?” finally, thankfully, his phone rings, and thank the heavens it’s you. “oh my god, y/n—” “rindou, what did i just hear on the baby cam?” “haha, my love! funny story!!!!”

SANZU just goes feral. he’s having a fucking anxiety attack or whatever so he just texts you while your daughter asks her daddy about how babies are made.

TAKEOMI plays it safe, using the infamous stork. “and it just comes flying?” “yeah, it carries a little basket with its beak and gives it to us!” he smiles, playing into his baby girl’s fantasy. “you sound just like my parents.” you smile and his gaze averts to yours, from his seat on the living room carpet. “well, your own stories inspired me, because, to be honest, i was about to shit myself.” “daddy!” the little one yells, stretching out her palm, “1000 yen!” and her father exasperates “god put me out of this misery of only being an atm, you’re just like your mother. ow! what’d i deserve that punch for?”

KAKUCHO handles it like a pro. “papa.” one of his little girls walks up to him, younger twin following her right behind. “yes, pretty girl?” he straightens his back and crouches down, still sitting on the couch. “how are babies made, papa?” the shyer one asks and his face drops for a split second. “i promise to tell you when you’re older, right now it’s classified information!” he jokes, and the girls giggle. “now… who wants to watch doraemon!!” he does the jazz hands and the twins jump into his lap. not long after, you sit down next to them. “if i didn’t know any better, i would have said you rehearsed those lines from the moment you were born.” you laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. he wraps an arm around you, chuckling, and kisses the crown of your head.

if there’s someone (who thinks they’re) escaping this question, it’s MIKEY. “ ‘tou-chan, how are babies made?” blond locks spin toward him, and the big eyes of his daughter look him up and down. “ ‘tou-chan?” she says again, a bit annoyed. mikey sacrifices the motorbike races he’s watching and looks back at her. “ask ‘kaa-chan, i’m not really good at biology.” he smiles when she jumps from her place and runs into your bedroom, where you’re blow-drying your hair. confident that he’s just dodged a bullet, manjiro returns to his priority — the tv. moments later you storm in, hair half wet, still in your bath robe with the kid in your arms, visibly furious. he knows he’s dodged a bullet but is about to get hit by a cannon.

IZANA is at the dining table doing some paper-work for tenjiku and you’re watching tv when your oldest marches into the kitchen, determined. “daddy.” the blond looks up, eyeing back at the spitting image of himself. “yes?” he answers, and you also look back to see what’s going on. slamming a big book on the table, the toddler points to the cover “how are babies made?” you burst out laughing and your husband snatches the book away, making you laugh hysterically. “where’d you find this?!” he questions, and his forehead is already soaked with sweat and he wants to bury himself into the ground. “your office.” he can’t believe his five year old son walked in there and just so happened to find this book: effective positions for baby-making. his cheeks redden and he scans the room to find you and request your help, but he’s greeted with the sight of you rolling around on the living room floor, trying to calm your laughter down. yay.

[desultory-novice]

I recently found out that “weekend Susie” is a mistranslation and it’s actually called “susie on vacation” in jpn. I’m pretty sure she’s supposed to be Susie in the future like Manager Magolor..any ideas on why shes missing her hairclip and the “Secretary” title she always has in jpn? Susie is so hard to figure out..like how she only smiles three times in the entirety of robobot (once when she takes the program controller and twice when singing the noble haltmann but ONLY when saying the words father in jpn) so I’m curious on what your thoughts are on her (and unfortunately has the worst localization ever…i had to look at the robobot translations from @/kaialone on tumblr) sorry for rambling but shes so interesting to me and it’s a bit sad seeing how a lot of the details she has in characterization never get talked about

Anon...Did you somehow know I've been replaying Robobot in Japanese?! And it's basically strengthened my confirmation that some people - though less than before - are a bit too harsh and/or restrictive in their takes on both Susie and her father. 

That said, I do I try to give people room to "safely hate" these fictional characters as, for a lot of people, it may be one of their only ways of processing a gross problem that affects the real world/so much of history that they can't do much about.

But I love the silly/tragic Haltmann family. I'm sympathetic and even semi-defensive towards 'em. Which is why I'm happy to answer any good faith Haltmann asks.

Ahem! Also, before I get into it, I wanted to say that technically "Weekend Susie" vs "Susie on Vacation" is not a mistranslation per se.

What it IS is a localization.

休日 can mean "vacation," yes. When you break down the kanji, literally it is made up of the words "rest day." So it can also be just about any day when you're not working/not at school/not busy.

For most of western civilization (not me because I'm a contractor XD ) the weekends are people's "rest days." To read 休日 as "weekend" might not even be that much of a stretch/localization!

Probably explains the lack of "secretary" title. She's literally not on the clock! As for the hairclip, who can say...? Similar reasons? I know in Susie's case, it's sentimental, though hairpins in Japan often have this association with studiousness/"time to get serious" so removing it is an easy indicator "She's allowing herself time to be silly!"

I do like to imagine that this is a post-canon Susie though. That girl deserves something nice after her trauma...

Anyway, reminder that post-FL, the localizers have been working more closely with the Japanese team to create a more accurate translation for us. I know the wounds from PR's rough translation (and SA's fast-and-loose in weird places one) still hurt, oof, but the Kirby series is getting better about its translations!!

Actually... you know... there's not THAT many cutscenes...

Maybe I will make my own "If they'd hired Dess to translate Planet Robobot" translation of the game? I've already threatened several times to do a full translation of "The Noble Haltmann" with all references/metaphors intact...

But yes! Speaking of how Susie uses her emotions, I was so moved by something in her first meeting with Kirby, I actually wrote about it! And I'm going to share it here, because you might find it interesting~

-

So, I had my eyes peeled for any interesting bits of characterization left behind on the cutting room floor. Immediately, I was amused by how politely Susie talks to Kirby in the beginning. She doesn't really "talk down to him" or insult his intelligence in the slightest. (One could argue that it's a false business politeness, of course. Although she only breaks that in like, the second to last cutscene) Any dismissal of him feels very "company-mandated." (And the company is run by a murderous computer but leaving that aside...)

She gently praises how beautiful the water and the air on this planet is and that's when something... starts to change in her...

Susie gets impossibly sad. And her attitude changes COMPLETELY.

I stopped for a second reading this. "Hold on. What? Why does she lose her cool HERE? Is this some indication that the place she and her dad used to live on was a really poor planet without clean air and drinking water?" And heck, maybe that is the case!

But something else struck me about her line:

"...You don't even know the value of what you have..."

It's not the snooty we-know-better-than-you "misappropriation of resources" that is triggering her. It is having something precious right next to you and you don't even recognize it.

It's about her dad. Right from the beginning.

She can't NOT talk about it. It affects all her actions. Maybe another reason while I feel like it's better to judge Susie on a whole than any one individual action she takes, because (like Magolor, oops oops oops) she is masking her intentions alllll the time.

Also, omg, I know some people are still sensitive about the Mechaknight thing but that is PEAK grim humor in Japanese! It is treated way too cold and business-like in English, imo.

In Japanese, she starts to describe him exactly like she's telling her bestie that she just met the man of her dreams and then the WHAM line: "So, I gave him a full-body modification!"

Yes, it's unhinged. But it's also wonderful. (She's so Eggman-core.)

[hyun-xxe]

Until I See you, Again (Idol!Yeonjun x Female!reader)

summary: you and yeonjun use to date throughout all of highschool and after, but then suddenly he ended things to become an idol. devestated, you both part ways.... but what if one day, years later, he find something that reminds him of you and desperately tries to find you.

*PART 1*

warnings: angst, fluff, happy ending blah blah blah

i haven't kept up with txt in a while, so their characters will be OOC (out of character) so i apologize

Ever since you were little, one thing that your father always told you was to safeguard your heart; that it was the most precious organ in your body.

Something as simple as a heartbreak can kill it, literally and figuratively. It scared you shitless as a kid, but as you got older you kind of laughed at the thought. heartbreak couldn't be that bad like your dad make it, afterall, him and your mom were going on strong for 28 years.

Entering middle school, you were already pressured to date, and you caved in. You got yout first boyfriend in 8th grade, but soon broke up at the start of summer because he wasn't ready.

It didn't hurt or anything, because you knew it wouldn't last, in fact at the time you just wanted to date to fit in with your friends that were in relationships.

It wasn't until you hit high school where everything changed, because of one boy. You met him by pure accident, as if the universe wanted you both to meet.

The start of the school year, you already had your classes picked out, but something was messed up in your transcript and instead of you getting psychology, the school accidentally enrolled you in AP biology.

You remember walking into that class, ready to tell the teacher that you weren't meant to be in this class, but when you made eye contact with him, every thought of you flew out of your head.

He was sitting in the back of the class taking extensive notes of the board. Feeling your stares on him, he turns toward you with a confused glance, staring you down.

His jet black, fluffy hair covering up until his eyes, but his glasses pushed them out of the frame. he had a black shirt with a grey sweater ontop and blue jeans. Who was he and how come you've never seen him around?

Looking back at the board, he quickly called you over and tapped on the seat next to him and you quickly obeyed orders, trying to not create any attention on you.

"You're like really late, you know that?" he broke the silence between you two, getting a chuckle out of you.

"Yeah, well, that was because I'm not suppose to be in this class, it was a mix up on the schools end, so I am here to fix it." you answer, looking around at the other students in the class.

There wasn't much students in this class, only about 10 and that was because a lot of kids preferred not to take AP classes due to the stress it would cause.

He pushed up his glasses and cleared some of his hair that was blocking his view, "Bummer, you're really going to drop out of this class? What class were you suppose to take?"

"Psychology." you say, "AP of any class wasn't on my list."

His smile causes butterflies in your stomach, "Well, I think you should reconsider with this, it's actually pretty fun. We take trips every wednesday to collect data, and its pretty fun."

The idea of taking a trip perked your interest, "Really? You take trips in this class?"

Your question caused him to chuckle a bit as he nodded his head, "Yes, but don't get your hopes up, its not all that."

That was enough to make you decide to stay in this class, even though you knew it was going to be hard. A part of you wanted to hit your hard really hard, especially since you decided to stay in this class for a boy, a boy who you might not even befriend.

"Whats your name, by the way?" he asked.

You turned to him and stretched out your hand, "My name is Y/N."

He took your hand in his and shook it, "Nice to meet you, my name is Yeonjun."

-7 years later

"Y/N, are you ok?" a hand waved in front of you, "You seem to be really out of space." your friend laughed.

Getting out of your trance that you were frequently in, you looked at him and smiled, "Sorry," you say sheepishly, "I don't know why this keeps happening."

Your friend sighs and sits next to you, "Well, there seems to be something on your mind," he says, "do you wants to talk about it?"

Thinking about it, you shook your head, "No, not really in the mood. Thank you though, Jay." you give him a grin and a pat on the shoulder.

Your friend, Jay, nods his head, still uncertain about you saying no, but respecting your wish. "Well, we should really be studying for this test." he ruffles your hair, "This is our senior year of college, we need to lock in."

You laugh at his words, "Lock in? we've been saying that since sophmore year of college and we still rush to finish things. At this point, those words are like a curse to us."

Jay chuckles and lets out a frustrated yell, "I don't know what to do," he pulls his hair, "This stupid test has gotten me so stressed. When I decided to join this psychology course, I was thinking it was going to be easy."

Shoving Jay in the shoulder, you rolled your eyes and pulled your computer closer to you, exiting the spotify app to go on Youtube. "yeah, well, I don't know where you saw that it was going to be easy, dummy."

He took the computer from you, "Did you hear Kendricks new song to Drake called Meet the Grahams? It's so crazy!"

As he is typing it in, you take a sip of your coffee, "No, I don't keep up with this rap stuff."

Jay pulls it up and before the video plays, two double ads pop up, earning a groan from both of you, "Fuck, you can't even block the ads on here, dammit!"

You were about the laugh until the second ad pops up, which almost let a gasp out of you.

"TXT COMEBACK DECEMBER 2, 2022!"

The trailer showcased the songs that will be on their upcoming album, "The Name Chapter; Temptation." and there was one member that stuck out like a sore thumb. His lips gave away his identity, the one that was stuck in your mind 24/7 and you just couldn't get him out.

He was the first guy that ever broke your heart.

...//....//....//...//...///...///

Yeonjun always promised himself one thing when he became an idol which was to never have any regrets, which is why he decided to join the company. He knew that it was an only once in a life time opportunity that he just couldn't pass over.

The training life was difficult and hard, but he knew that it was all going to be in the past and he was going to live his dream of becoming an idol, and their ad on Youtube proved to him that he made it.

This was their 6th mini album and with each comeback him and his members did, he still couldn't believe the fact that they are successful.

"This is the best album yet," Beomgyu exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air, "We all killed it!"

Kai also jumped up and down, clapping his hands, "can't believe that accentuated my features better this time! I look sexy!" he smiled big.

Yeonjun laughed as they all watched the trailer to their song, Sugar Rush Ride.

The members gasped when it showed the whispering part and it got them more excited that they get to share their hard work with MOA soon.

"Not going to lie, performing at lollapalooza is still living in my head rent free, I wish we could go back to that time." Yeonjun sighed.

Taehyun hit his shoulder, "You always bring that up everytime we are watching a trailer of ours."

Yeonjun shrugged his shoulders, "Sorry for bringing up the best memory we had," he laughed, "I just want to go back, you know?" he then gasped, "You think they would have us for Cochella?"

Soobin let out a laugh, "lets not get ahead of ourselves now, maybe soon though, I can sense it."

The trailer ended and everyone sat back down.

"Hey Kai," Taehyun called out, "I have a favor to ask."

Kai perked up and looked to his member, "Sure, what is it?"

"I remember I brought my old nintendo with me when we moved in this place, can you bring it to me? I don't know why I suddenly remembered it."

Kai stood up and nodded his head, "Yeah, of course. Where is it?"

Taehyun thought for a little, "It's in the storage room where we keep most of our things."

Understanding the assignment, Kai walked to the storage room to achieve the item and along the way, stumbled upon another thing. When he found the box where Taehyun threw the device in, there was another device.

It was a black, rectangular shaped thing. It had buttons on top that were grey, and one red. It read that it belonged to Yeonjun, so Kai decided to bring it with him back to the guys.

"here you go," he handed the nintendo to Taehyun and then turned to Yeonjun, "Here you go as well."

Yeonjun stared at it, confused why Kai was handing him this device. "Why are you giving this to me?"

"Well, when I was getting Taehyun's thing, I saw this with your name in the box with his, so I was curious and gave it to you to see what it is."

This caught all the members attention as Yeonjun looked at the object closely. He forgot where he got it from and what it was used for, so he was scared using it in front of the others.

"I don't remember where I got this from," he says, pressing a button to see if it did something, but when nothing happened he just shrugged his shoulders, "I guess its useless."

Soobin sighed and grabbed it from him, "Do you really not know how this recorder works." he shakes his head, "And I thought I was dumb."

He pressed a red button and a loud screech was heard in the room, causing some to close their ears. By the time it was done, it started to roll.

7 seconds in, there was nothing that was happening.

"Maybe this thing is use-"

"Is this thing on?"

a voice was heard from the recorder, "Shit, I don't know why I spent so much money on something I don't know how to work."

Yeonjun listened closely, trying to hear the voice clearly.

"Lemme ask Sofia about this."

A minute has passed when they heard more talking.

"You're so dumb!" the voice laughed, "You were recording the entire time!"

it was clear that it was two girls laughing, but the members were confused why Yeonjun even had this.

"Ok, leave so I can do my message you dumbass."

The voice, Yeonjun thought to himself, it sounds so similar to someone he knew, someone he cared about deeply. The laugh, the way they talked, he had a feeling he knew who it belonged to.

"Anyways, that was embarassing, but Yeonjuuunnnnn~" the voice sang out, "I bought this thing to leave you sweet messages because doing it this way seems more romantic... and I saw it in a movie and you know how sentimental I get."

the members stared at Yeonjun as they saw his lips part and eyes get wide.

"I love you with all my heart, and I know I say this often a lot, but I really do love you. I wasn't into dating and any of that stuff even though I had a massive crush on you, but you are seriously the best boyfriend I could ask for!"

your laugh, the laugh you did just now, he remembers hearing it all the time back then and it was his favorite sound.

"I am planning on recording messages in this for the summer of you visiting family in Korea. Please be safe over there and tell them I say hi! Also guess what, I got my SAT results back and I got 1,300! I am so proud of myself!"

there was a long pause before the voice continued, "Anyways, I should end this... fuck, how do you end this- SOFIA!"

Stomps could be heard in the audio, "Y/N! Come on," the voice laughs, "Its like thi-"

The recording ends as it cuts off the friend talking. Everyone looked to Yeonjun who was just sitting there, trying to hold back some tears that were threatening to fall.

He doesn't understand how he could forget about you, but I guess with the intense training he went through, he just naturally pushed his life back in the states behind in his mind.

"Who was that? How come you never told us about this Y/N?" Beomgyu asked.

Yeonjun was still at a lost for words and he didn't know whether to get up and leave, or just sit there for the rest of the night.

"Are you ok?" Taehyun questioned, getting closer to him.

"I-" Yeonjun stuttered, "I need to find her."

[mikefaistinfo]

Onstage, ‘Brokeback Mountain’ Is Still a Tragedy

Much has changed for L.G.B.T.Q. people since Annie Proulx’s short story was published in 1997. But a new theatrical version is a reminder that homophobia is far from over.

By Douglas Greenwood - Reporting from London (May 12, 2023, 5:00 a.m. ET)

In 2016, when the theater director Jonathan Butterell was considering a proposal to adapt Annie Proulx’s 1997 short story “Brokeback Mountain” for the stage, he wondered how to translate the prose’s vast landscape and insular emotions into a play.

Last month, in a central London rehearsal studio, Butterell and Ashley Robinson, who wrote the play, tried to answer that question. To help the cast connect with Proulx’s story of a cowboy and a ranch hand falling in love against the wide-stretching landscapes of 1960s Wyoming, black-and-white photographs of American plains and mountain ranges were tacked to the walls during rehearsals.

“The vastness has been there from the very beginning,” Butterell said in a recent interview. When it came to evoking the story’s emotional landscape, the director had stuck one sepia-toned photograph, of a lone cowboy in a snow-covered Wyoming, behind a pillar. The image “speaks to the bit of us that feels alone in the world,” Butterell said. “Maybe he’s at peace with this, maybe it’s the source of his agony.”

Butterell’s “Brokeback Mountain” opened in previews May 10 at @sohoplace in London’s West End. It’s the first time the story has been adapted for theater — an opera by Charles Wuorinen premiered in Madrid in 2014 — and each version now follows in the footsteps of Proulx’s text and the film that popularized it: Ang Lee’s 2005 Academy Award-winning adaptation, which is often cited as one of the best L.G.B.T.Q. films of all time.

Butterell said he was aware of his audience having expectations based on the film. “They’re inevitable,” he said, “but I don’t mind that.”

This theatrical version also has some Hollywood clout. Its lead characters, Jack Twist and Ennis del Mar, are played by the BAFTA-nominated actor Mike Faist and the Oscar-nominated actor Lucas Hedges.

In late 2016, Robinson first wrote a treatment for what he called a “memory play” based on the short story, after speaking with the composer Dan Gillespie Sells and Butterell. Robinson’s script stated that the Wyoming setting should not be conveyed “in a purely literal sense,” and his story is set in 2013, with an older version of del Mar reflecting on the years he spent with Twist between 1963 and 1983.

Proulx approved of Robinson’s vision. She has “high hopes for the play,” she said in a recent email interview. “When I read Ashley’s script several years ago, I thought he had done a fine job.”

In Proulx’s story, del Mar and Twist’s interior worlds are conveyed by an omniscient narrator. In the stage adaptation, music does much of that work.

“These two men can’t sing,” Gillespie Sells said, because “they don’t have an emotional dialogue.” Instead, a character called The Balladeer — played by the Scottish singer-songwriter Eddi Reader — sings with an onstage country and western band. “She takes us through time,” Butterell said. “Sometimes it’s from night to day. Sometimes it’s 10 years.”

“Brokeback Mountain” will be the first time its two lead actors have appeared onstage in five years. Faist, who plays Twist, originated the role of Connor Murphy in “Dear Evan Hansen” on Broadway, and has had more recent success in film, including Steven Spielberg’s 2021 remake of “West Side Story.”

Hedges “hadn’t acted in a while” when he was sent the script, he said, having been focusing on writing instead. The “Brokeback” offer and playing del Mar changed that. “There wasn’t an angle I didn’t love about this,” he said.

As the project entered its final week of rehearsals, both actors were grappling with the process in different ways. Hedges said he was experiencing “tragic and triumphant ups and downs” about his own work. “I have a day where I think I’ve figured it all out, and then a day when it all disappears,” he said. The “collective experience” of theater was daunting compared to working in film, he said, adding that onstage, “I can’t use tricks to make it through.”

Faist concurred: “It’s a challenge, and it’s terrifying,” mainly because of the expectations of having to match the source material and 2005 film, he said. “But as terrifying and frustrating as it is, I really am having the time of my life,” he added.

Butterell said that Faist and Hedges were “as men, as actors, very different creatures.” Faist, he said, had “a sense of life and vivacity,” while Hedges “has this deeply complex interior landscape that’s very much of Ennis.”

Neither Hedges, Faist nor Butterell had revisited Lee’s film since they were approached for the project. “The truth of the matter is, no matter what, he’s not Heath Ledger and I’m not Jake Gyllenhaal,” Faist said of the film’s two lead stars, who both earned Oscar nominations for their performances. He and Hedges, Faist added, would both bring their “own weird things” to the roles.

The production has forced Faist to confront his “traumas,” he said. “We can take those traumas, turn them around,” he added, and, he hopes, make the audience “think deeply about their own lives.”

Following the success of the “Brokeback Mountain” film, Proulx said fans of her text sent her fan fiction that rewrote the ending of her short story, claiming the original was too sad. She told the The Paris Review that those fans had “misunderstood” the story and stated that it was, most importantly, about “homophobia.”

This is the first adaptation of “Brokeback” to be released since the Supreme Court made gay marriage legal in all 50 U.S. states. Robinson — who lives in Brooklyn but was raised in the tiny town of Lockhart, S.C. — said he wrote it to remind audiences that gay trauma still exists.

“These stories aren’t necessarily being told anymore because of a trend to put onstage what we want the world to be,” he said, referring to the theater community. “That’s a wonderful thing to do, but we shouldn’t cancel out all of the opportunities to talk about what’s going on underneath it.”

Butterell added that the fight against homophobia was “not over” in Britain either, citing a recent spike in the number of attacks on L.G.B.T.Q. people.

“This is a tragedy,” Butterell said of the play. “Of course love exists — I don’t want it to be solemn — but the tragedy of this piece is that fear wins.”

Find this article here: https://www.nytimes.com/2023/05/12/theater/brokeback-mountain-play.html

[dartagnantt]

Illusory Shinanigans

PDFs of this and more can be found over on at my Patreon here! You should also follow my new Kickstarter so you can be alerted when it goes live next year!

The last of my potential. How tragic! … err… I mean, the last of my "potential" theme. (saved it)

This week, I delve into my favourite school of magic, the one with the vaguest rules and is either awesome or lame depending on your game master. I've fortunately had some pretty rad GMs who run with my nonsense. So I get a lot of mileage out of illusions. I mostly play with phantasms this week AKA hallucinations but I also throw in some shadow magic for fun. The fleece is getting stretched very thin today.

Daydream

This one seemed like a lot of fun after all of the hallucinating I was doing. Literally trap someone in their thoughts. It's a bit of an advanced single target colour spray.

Mass Phantasmal Force

I couldn't figure out how to scale the power of phantasmal force, as a result it kind of became four spells. This was a version of of the original scaled for additional targets.

Phantasmal Force: Revised

This is the one closest to the original, however, this one is specifically attack focused, hence why it scales the damage. I did do an overall change where instead of just believing everything but still being able to use an action to escape, I make failing a check force the belief instead. As much as I call this revised phantasmal force, I kind of rewrote the entire spell so I could use it for other projects because for some reason, they left my favourite spell out of the SRD >:(

Phantasmal Image

This one is my primary use case of the spell, you'll note that you can be more vague with this. This is borrowed from audiovisual hallucination, a spell from pathfinder and my actual favourite spell. This is also how I both use and run the spell. Because the phantasm subschool is locked inside someone's mind, its weaker in that only a designated creature can see it, but because it taps into their mind you can force belief and use their own knowledge against them. But yeah, as much fun as harming creatures with illusions is fun, the diverse fuckery in funner.

This one scales in size, because I've had to abuse the notion of perspective more than I'd like in a hallucination to get around the size limitation. Tempted to make a 'phantasmal diarama' spell at some point, but that's kind of what the next one is for.

Programmed Hallucination

This I made mostly as a retroactive excuse for what I did to my players in my game (I do this quite often, feel free to judge me) I wanted a hallucination trap, because they needed to enter a crowded room, and needless to say, if they didn't feel the people, then this would fail immediately. But I wanted a more general use case, because fuck yes!

Shared Hallucination

And this is the last variation, scaling the non damaging version for more people. Because you really need to distract multiple people with one concentration spell.

Shadow Duplicate

Kage Bunshin no Jutsu! Not called shadow clone, because that would imply its related to the clone spell. But really this is effectively a lesser simulacrum. I was always disappointed that mirror image doesn't give you illusory doubles that can move indepenat from you, kind of like the trickery domain power, and I didn't really want to make a specific spell for it, because silent image and major image can kind of do that already. So instead, a spell that makes a copy, that you can cast from or attack, or whatever. This should probably be a higher level, but I REALLY wanted this is be available for bonus spell lists.

And now to plug my stuff. I release homebrews weekly over on my Patreon. Anyone who pledges $1 or more per post don't have to wait a month to see them, and also help fund my being alive habit.

At the moment, they have exclusive access to the following:

Concubus Patron

The Siren's Call

Satyr Ancestry

Sanguine Seeker Ranger Archetype

I also have three classes, and a splatbook over on DriveThrueRPG to check out:

The Rift Binder. A class specialising in summoning monsters and controlling the battlefield.

The Witch Knight. A class that combines swords and sorcery in the most literal way.

The Werebeast. A class that turns you into a half beast to destroy your foes.

d'Artagnan's Adventurer Almanac. A compendium of races, subclasses, feats, spells, monsters and more!

[zara-renata]

Sleepy time with Xavier | ao3 | masterlist

Summary: You suffer from chronic fatigue and worry that Xavier is only placating you when he says it's fine on the occasions you're too exhausted to follow through on plans together. On one such bad day, he reassures you in a way that you can no longer doubt. Notes: And now for something entirely different from the Sylus series (regular readers, please don't stab me in the face). I am bursting with ideas for the Sylus fic and will continue posting regular updates as before (work permitting), but I was directly inspired by @starfallforest's fic about how, due to his evol, Xavier lights up like a supernova when he orgasms, and bends space-time so that you can feel what he feels and the lines of identity blur between him and his lover. I had insomnia the other night and kept thinking about the hurt/comfort possibilities of being able to literally feel your lover's feelings, and I want to use that idea in the Sylus fic because there are hints that he can enter dreams and manipulate consciousness, so this is my thank you to a sweet person who inspired the idea. Xavier x fem!reader, Xavier x mc, second person POV. This story contains: mc with chronic fatigue, hurt/comfort, bottom!xavier, pegging, oral sex (f receiving), tried to keep the sex more sensual than explicit but it's there. My first attempt at "smut", hope it's demure, hope it's classy. I normally write gender neutral reader, but i find it really hard to leave out body parts when drafting sexual content so i went with fem reader here. If anyone wants this story as either gender neutral or male reader (both of which would slightly affect the descriptions of the sexy bits), let me know because it would be simple to adjust. But if no one is interested in Xavier or other LI content from me, then I figured one version should be sufficient.

You come awake slowly, still tangled in a strange dream in which you were on a planet that is strangely familiar even though you somehow knew it’s not your own. You were sheltering in ancient buildings clinging to a high, sloping cliffside spilling down into a gray, turbulent ocean. Everyone around you was afraid, and somehow you had the knowledge, the way one sometimes has in dreams, that this was the end of this world. You were one of the last survivors of all the calamities that had afflicted this crumbling planet until now, at the final end of all things. All who were left were now huddled along with you, watching the sea. The meteor was coming. Nothing could be done to stop it. If you didn’t see it in the sky, you would know it was time by the sudden retreat and then rise of the ocean waves.

You wake, just as the tide receded—you were waiting in frozen fear, trapped in the terrible knowledge that when the water returned, you and everyone you knew would be swept down and into it, the final gasp of life on a doomed planet.

As you come awake, your heart is racing. You feel your chest with your hand, running your fingertips over the pounding there while reaching for your phone on your nightstand. You squint at the screen—it’s nine in the morning on a Saturday. Normally you’d be stretching languidly, enjoying the fact that you are able to sleep in on the weekends instead of hurrying into work. But the dream’s deep dread—its exhausting terror—lingers, and your body feels so heavy. It’s nine in the morning, and you already know that today will be a Bad Day.

You don’t remember a time when you didn’t have chronic fatigue. Maybe when you were younger, you wouldn’t fear the days on which just the most basic of tasks required for daily life are simply too much for your depleted body. Where taking a shower, or doing the dishes, feels as daunting as running a marathon with no training, or pushing an SUV uphill with the emergency brake still on.

But now your fatigue is almost a constant companion. It seeps into your body, siphoning your strength on the worst possible days. You sometimes think that the energy stolen from you by this condition would be enough to power Linkon City for a year.

It’s Saturday, and you resign yourself to just curling up in bed and drifting until hunger, or the need to go to the bathroom, offer enough pressing incentive to drag your deadweight out from under your warm soft duvet.

Xavier lets himself into your apartment with the key you made specifically for him, since you use a fingerprint scanner to get in yourself. He slips out of his shoes and hangs up his jacket on the wall rack in the foyer. Something about the stillness of your place has him holding his tongue, when usually he’d call out softly to you to let you know he’s here. As he makes his way further into your home, he notes how the curtains are still drawn in the living room, and that the kitchen is tidy in a way that lets him know that you probably haven’t used it yet today.

It must be one of your bad days. He was looking forward to going to hotpot with you tonight, the date he knew you were also looking forward to this Saturday night, but he’s already reaching for his phone to call and cancel the reservation. His earbuds are in, so as he quietly lets the restaurant know you won’t be coming, he gets to work assembling snacks on a wooden cutting board and getting the kettle going for a caffeine free tea. He lifts the kettle from its base right before it begins to beep as it finishes warming up, and pours you a mug in the chipped World’s Greatest Hunter cup that Caleb gifted you when you graduated from the Hunter Academy. He then carefully carries everything back to your bedroom, where you’re curled up amidst the soft duvet and mountain of pillows and plushies so that only your hair is peeking up above the covers. He pauses, soaking in the sight, overcome with how adorable you are. His slow heartbeat hitches, for just a breath, at the gratitude of being able to see you like this, so close, instead of dreaming about you from a great distance.

He sets the board on one of your nightstands, lifts the steeping teabag from the mug and places it in the little bowl decorated with shooting stars. A gift from him since you love drinking calming tea so much. He then reaches back, pulling his cozy white hoody and undershirt from his torso and dumps them on the floor. His jeans are next, and then he’s lifting the duvet, slipping in behind you with a sigh. 

You come awake again—terribly relieved that this time your sleep was peaceful, dreamless—only to find your beautiful boyfriend’s warm body curled around yours. Maybe his solid presence at your back is why you didn’t have another unsettling dream.

You blink, coming to your senses all at once. You grab your phone from your nightstand and see that it’s well past the time you had agreed to head to the restaurant. 

You feel awful. You hate that your body betrays you like this, and so often ruins plans not only for you, but for your skilled warrior of a boyfriend too. Your sweet, curious explorer. So often you aren’t up to following through on plans the two of you make together on your precious days off from the stresses and risks of being a hunter. He has never complained, but you feel terrible, every time, for not having the energy to do even the most mundane of activities and ruining his rare chances for fun or relaxation as a result.

“Are you awake already?” his sleepy, soft voice drifts from behind you. He tightens his arms around you.

You snort. “Already? I wish.” Your stomach twists in hunger. “I should have gotten up hours ago. Why didn’t you wake me?” you ask forlornly.

“I didn’t want to interrupt your rest. And I can always use a nap.” You can hear the smile in his voice, right before you hear him yawn languidly.

You’re grateful that he never complains. You’re grateful that he never seems to be bothered by you having to flake out on plans, and never seems disappointed at last-minute cancellations. But you also can’t quite believe that his peaceful facade is the whole truth. There is always that undercurrent of worry lurking in your mind, wondering when he’ll finally have enough of being forced to deal with your condition. He rarely offers reassurance on his own—it’s only when you ask him, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”, that he always replies with a calm, “Of course.” You never quite believe him, despite your best efforts to trust him.

“Still. I’m so sorry that we missed plans, again, because of me,” you murmur, curling a little tighter into yourself.

He pushes himself up on his elbow. “C’mere.” He gently urges you to roll over and face him. He smiles down at you, his ocean eyes soft as they drift across your face. “I made you some tea, but I guess it’s probably cold by now. And also some snacks. Wanna watch the latest episode of Super Hunters?”

You just stare at his pretty face, struck again by how utterly lovely every part of him is. Not just the sweep of his nose, his generous mouth, the blond of his soft hair. But the inside of him too. Gentle. Kind.

“Are you sure you’re not upset?” you finally ask, heart aching with how much you love this man, hating the fact that you’re so needy for reassurance from him.

He leans forward, taking your hand in his, and runs his nose along your forehead, down one of your cheeks, before he brushes a feather-light kiss to the side of your mouth.

“I’m sure. I can think of so many things we can do, right here in this bed. Things that are just as fun as eating good hotpot,” he answers, eyes drifting from your eyes to your mouth, to the skin above your sleep tank top, and back again.

“Like watching Super Hunters?” you tease, lifting an eyebrow. Because you know him. And you know that one of the things he loves as much as eating good food, is loving you with his body.

“Like watching Super Hunters, or…” he reaches out and runs one finger along the curve of your breast. “If you’re not too tired, I’m happy to do all the work. But if you’re not up for it, I’m also happy to order in for us, and spend the rest of the night watching shows with you.”

This, too, you have trouble believing. He has never pressured you into intimacy, but you worry when he says it doesn’t bother him when your fatigue, your faulty body, affects this part of your relationship with him, as it does everything else. You don’t know how to reconcile the cognitive dissonance in your head—you know that Xavier is not the kind of man to feel entitled to sex, or to get angry for needing to cancel plans because his partner has a medical condition out of her control. And yet, you also feel guilty for not being able to offer him more consistency in both of these aspects of your shared life together.

You lie there, soaking in his beauty. Your eyes drift from his lovely face down his strong throat, the breadth of his shoulders, his defined pectorals. The darker blond trail of hair starting at his navel and drifting down into his pretty little blue boxer briefs. You’re exhausted, but you want him. You always want him, whether it’s just holding his hand, or much, much more. You’re not going to let your frustrating body get in the way of the pleasure he’s offering you, on top of everything else tonight.

“How about we have those snacks, and then we can… do something other than watch Super Hunters.” Your breath is caught as a surprised, pleased smile lights up his face.

“That can be arranged,” he says softly.

Later, after you’ve had your fill of the fruit and nuts, the crackers spread with tasty toppings, and drained the mug of cold but still soothing tea, he gently urges you onto your back under the soft duvet. You’re cocooned, both warm in the little nest of your bed, as he licks into your mouth, kissing you slowly, seeming to savor the tea lingering on your tongue. You respond, tongue meeting his, enjoying the languid pace of his kisses. Time slows, becomes meaningless, as he leisurely drinks his fill of your mouth.

After a lifetime, or perhaps only a few minutes, he slips from your mouth, and begins pressing gentle kisses down your throat, drifting down, down, pausing at the softness of your breasts, running his hands up and under your sleep tank top until you lift your arms and let him pull it from your body. He lets it fall somewhere over the side of the bed. His tongue is warm and wet as he nuzzles your breasts and gently sucks lower, running his nose along the skin of your belly and resting his cheek there, just for a little while. You sigh softly, luxuriating in the feel of his weight on you, his warm breath against your skin.

After a while, he moves again, down, down, tongue sweeping down your hip, lips pressing slow kisses to the inside of your thigh. You feel his big hands gently grasp your hips, and his agile fingers are pulling down the sides of your underwear. He lifts your ass for you so you don’t have to expend the effort, and then the underwear is tossed just as your tank top was.

He nudges your legs wide and settles his big body between them. Your heart's rhythm speeds, the rest of you responds to his attention. Your fatigue fades into the background as all of your focus narrows to his tongue between your legs, the wet insistence of his lips on the most sensitive parts of you. He makes small appreciative noises in his throat, the same that he makes when enjoying a particularly good meal, and you’re reassured that this at least, he loves doing for you.

The pleasure in your tired body builds, and builds, but he’s in no hurry. His fingers join his tongue, advancing and retreating. Sometimes he pauses, resting his cheek on your thigh as he did on your belly, simply breathing you in, tongue running along his own lips, as if he’s savoring the taste of you. Time passes, and all at once the movement of his tongue, the pressure of his mouth becomes too much, and you come on a quiet gasp, softly—the peak of your pleasure stretches, feels like it lasts beyond what is possible. Finally, you’re catching your breath, sated, drifting back into your body from the timeless orgasm he just gifted you.

Wordlessly, he reaches beyond the duvet to pull your strap from your nightstand. He lifts one of your feet and slips it through one part of the harness, and then repeats the motion with your other foot. He slowly drags it up your legs, goosebumps trailing his fingertips in the chill of the air exposed by the duvet falling down a little as he fixes the strap in place between your thighs and gently tugs on each bit of the harness to ensure that it’s resting securely and comfortably against your skin. 

When he is done, you are filled with a pleasant fullness, and a new heaviness rests between your legs. While he was pleasuring you, he had used one of his hands to soften the way for you, leisurely working your wetness into himself. He rolls onto his side, the little spoon, and scoots back against you. He reaches for the lube in the nightstand, and you laugh softly when the scent of cookies and cream fills the air. 

“What?” he asks, and you can hear the lift of his lips, the smile in his response. “I love cookies and I love sex, why not enjoy both at once?” 

How can you argue with such logic? You’ll never be able to eat cookies again without recalling his warmth, his big body pliant against yours, and you realize that you’re just fine with that.

He reaches behind, between your bodies, and coats the cock of the strap with the lube. He then helps you work it into himself, little by little, until you’re fully seated and pressed warmly against his broad back. He sighs and you feel him reach for his own dick, stroking leisurely. With each slow, rolling undulation of his body rocking back into yours as he seeks his pleasure, your own builds, desire again temporarily eclipsing the exhaustion. You begin to rock your hips, little by little, and he whimpers softly with each thrust. You trail kisses down the back of his strong neck, gasping a little at how good it feels to press into him, for the motion to press the seat of the strap deeper into you, his skin silk under your lips, his whimpering an incentive to go a littler faster, to push a little deeper, just to hear more of it. His muscles ripple and shivers sweep along his skin under your touch. 

Gradually you speed your thrusts, and you feel his hand working faster on his cock by the movement of his muscular arm. He has been here with you before, so he is not afraid or hesitant like the first time. You angle your hips a little, and are satisfied when you hit his prostate, evident from the loud keening that comes out of your normally soft spoken boyfriend. You’re on the edge of coming again, only waiting for the telltale clenching, the moaned “I’m coming” from Xavier. 

When he finally falls over the edge, you go with him, and he lights up like a supernova, back arched, his thick backside grinding into your hips. He’s blinding, magnificent, the light under his skin almost too much for you to look at directly. He is starlight. He is the sun, soaking you through, warming your skin, your exhausted muscles, the blood pumping through your veins, down, down to the marrow of your bones, the tender center of your tired soul.

You squeeze your eyes shut against the blazing form of your lover, and you’re suddenly adrift—space and time are an origami flower folded from the parts of you and him, him and you, drifting like petals on a breath, stardust in the a vast ocean of night. 

You are him, your skin translucent, blazing bright as a star, your body filled with so much pleasure—filled with so much affection, gratitude—and sorrow. Sorrow for the fact that you don’t have the poetic words to convince your lover that the days she’s most exhausted are some of the days he loves the most, just lying with her reading quietly, sheltered in this safe harbor from the cruelties of time and distance. You understand that for her, her exhaustion is a burden, a source of guilt and helpless anger. That she thinks of her own body as flawed, when all you can see is its perfection in every curve, every breath, the regal line of her nose. You would never wish for her to suffer because of the exhaustion racking her body, but you sometimes think that she was made just for you, her fatigue mirroring your own—lying in bed fulfills you as much as exploring a new city, tasting a new favorite meal. You’re so content to be lost right here with her in this familiar but never boring geography of bedsheets, the topography of her body a map you want to read with your hands like braille, to learn, to lose yourself in every day. You hate that you don’t seem to have the words to reassure her that you love all of her, because of, and not despite, all the parts that make the whole of her. 

Time stretches, space contracts. You fall back into yourself. The blinding beacon in your arms slowly fades, Xavier’s warm bulk suddenly solid against you again. He sighs, sated. You can feel his rapid breathing expanding his strong lungs, his broad back against your chest. 

You drift together quietly in the peaceful aftermath of the love you just shared. The relief coursing through you is like slipping into warm water, soothing you in a way that brings tears to your eyes. You trust that the experience you just had wasn’t a lie—you were feeling Xavier’s true feelings as you reached the height of pleasure, together. You don’t believe that he’s capable of lying, of placating, as his soul melted into yours, twin stars bound together.

This is enough for you. An unexpected gift, a reassurance you never dared hope for. But Xavier isn’t done. He begins to speak, without you having to ask.

“Please don’t feel bad, on the days you’re tired. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he says softly into the peaceful quiet, only the sounds of your breaths, his breaths filling the room. You don’t have the words to answer him right now, your pleasure-soaked body feeling heavier and heavier as you sink further back into awareness, the fatigue exacting its price for the energy you just expended loving the precious man in your arms. You just hold him a little tighter, nuzzling into his soft blond hair. He seems to receive the message as he slips his hand in yours and squeezes tightly.

After another endless moment, you hear him say almost inaudibly, “I love you.”

“I love you too, star boy,” you manage to whisper into his hair. You drift again, and the memory of your dream floats into your thoughts. You think that you could endure anything, even the end of the world, with this man in your arms.

[megabunnie]

It took over four months of non stop applying, but my first interview in a decade went really well. It's not much, 3.5 hours a day, four days a week for less than $15/hour, but it's a little bit of cushion, and it works with my schedule for child care. The woman that interviewed me didn't look down on me for spending the last decade and a half doing unpaid labor for other people, which I was happily surprised by.

Things have been so bleak recently. I've been stretching the money as thin as I can and robbing Peter to pay Paul. I've been strategically using my overdraft for over a year now. Between over due medical bills and getting hit with extra expenses, and all the shenanigans with my bank and card, it's been really fucking hard. The ends are getting further and further apart.

I'm hoping to qualify for a medical study to bring a bit more in. If I could figure out how to do it and I thought there was a market for it, I'd sell feet pics and used panties. At this point there isn't a whole lot I'm not willing to at least try to do to dig us out of the current hole we've sunk into. Especially considering it's almost entirely because of MY medical bills.

We're financially responsible people. My spouse has a decent job, $22/hour. We don't buy things that aren't necessary out side the occasional splurge on a treat at the store, and nine times out of ten its for the kids. We don't take big trips. We don't buy the newest trends or electronics. We never have. We plan for months and sometimes years for purchases bigger than $100. We don't buy basically anything new. Not even for the kids. For fucks sake, I plan groceries around the sales and do the math on gas to figure out which stores to go to in what order for the highest efficiency and savings. I haven't bought meat that isn't on discount in over seven years. We dont buy alcohol or cigarettes or weed. Weve never used drugs. We've never been in trouble with the law. Yet here we are. Straining to make ends meet and buried in debt. Because I got sick. I'm still sick. I will always be sick. I can't afford my medication and copays, even though we have the "good" insurance. Going to the doctor literally takes food out of my kids mouths.

I'm not new poor, either. I grew up poor. Pre 2008 we were poor. Like, the only food in the house was from the food bank, electric off, wash your clothes in the tub with dish soap or shampoo, sometimes just water. Stole toilet paper from the gas station. Hid food from my school lunches in my pockets and back pack to save for later. We made it work. We also were eligible for assistance. That's what saved us growing up. I've done this for 30 goddamn years.

Just my spouses income puts us $27 over the income limits for any of it. Twenty. Seven. Dollars. They don't make that much, especially not now that theyve cut the raises to every other year instead of annual. It was usually 10 to 15 cents. It's still 10 to 15 cents.

No snap benefits. We have insurance through spouses work, but the copays and prescription costs are too much. Can't afford to send littlest dude to pre-k because we're over the income cut off. The frustration is real. I just secured childcare so we can have me work - and thats way underpaying the woman doing it, but it helps both families, and even with me working we still can't afford to put him in pre-k. Limited availability hasn't helped me finding a job either. I'm damn lucky to have found this one and it took months and a fucking miracle.

I'm so damn tired. We're gonna make it work.

[theghostpinesmusic]

Ahead of their looming summer tour, Goose posted one last (?) video from the April Capitol Theatre run the other day: "Tumble" from 4/10. As I've written about before, I like "Tumble" a lot as a song, both in its "fast" and "slow" arrangements, but even longer versions of the tune tend to stretch out into dance-party territory rather than exploring heretofore unplumbed Depths Of Jam. But hey, this is Cotter's first live-concert "Tumble" and it's twenty-four minutes long: how better to put off doing actual work for another hour than listening to this again and writing words about it?

Unlike the version of "Tumble" from Goosemas X, this version is decidedly the "fast" arrangement all the way through. It's a pretty standard reading of the composed section, all told, though it's always fun to watch Peter make those super-quick transitions from guitar to keys and back again. The minor-key, "Stash"-y parts of the tune feel a bit more percussion-focused than they used to be, which is cool. Also, I think but am not sure that Peter is playing Ezra Koenig's guitar during this set (Ezra and two other members of Vampire Weekend would join Goose on stage later in the night).

The song finishes and moves into jam territory at 5:17 (literally punctuated by that loud-ass smoke machine again). Sometimes there'll be a little noodling around on the song's closing chords next, but here we immediately drop into a super-funky two-guitar jam. I love hearing Rick and Peter play off of each other in situations like this. It's nice of Peter to come out from behind the keys for a face-to-face showdown. The fact that he then proceeds to hide behind Cotter's kit for awhile is just extra fun. During Peter's little road trip, some give-and-take between Rick and Trevor develops and it is also pretty, pretty cool.

I really dig Rick's tone around the 9:00 mark, especially shortly after when he starts repeating that little ascending riff.

For my money, the quality, variety, and control of his tone has suddenly vastly improved since 2023. For what it's worth, I'm not at all on the whole "the new guitar/new amp SUCKS" bandwagon that's formed since he made some big gear changes in late '22 and then in April '23. Sometimes I'm in the mood for the old PRS sound and sometimes the DeLuis sound really works better for me but, ultimately, it's all gravy as far as I'm concerned (fun fact, though: I was in attendance for the last PRS show and the first DeLuis show, both at the Warfield). That said, I think they both had their downsides: the PRS often struggled to cut through the mix and to differentiate itself from Peter's guitar especially, and the DeLuis had a tendency to overwhelm the rest of the band (especially live as opposed to over livestreams or on SBD recordings). Recently, though, it looks to me like in addition to whatever other changes he's made, Rick's now playing through two Fender Deluxe Twin Reverb amps and they sound wonderful to me. To be fair, the Twin Reverb is also the amp that I own and play through 95% of the time, so I may be biased. But goddamn, it sounds good.

Anyway, self-indulgent guitar tone digression over!

I thought the light rig for the Cap run was a little...weird? But at moments like 9:20 it really shines. I mean, literally but also figuratively.

Rick's fuzzier, more aggressive tone finally pushes the whole band to pull back a bit starting at 10:10, and we get this really rhythm-heavy space anchored by a repeating figure that he keeps playing on guitar. Trevor sounds fantastically growly here.

Ultimately, this darker space serves a transition to something a bit more upbeat but also more ethereal, and by 11:00 we're fully enmeshed in it. Peter moves to the Vibe shortly after, which feels like both the obvious and perfect choice.

Also, by the 12:00 mark I take back every negative thing I've ever said about this light setup.

One of the things that this more patient "New Goose" has brought to a lot of their jams is using that patience to fully explore some of these more almost-ambient but delicate, gorgeous spaces. It's not that the band didn't have the capacity to do this before Cotter or something: one of my all-time favorite jams of theirs is the "Borne" from 4/25/23 in Eugene, and it's a quintessential example of the form, in my opinion. But this sort of improvisation seems to come more easily to the band in 2024: there are a few great examples from Ted Tapes 2024, one or two examples from those YouTube "Gemini" jams, the "Borne" and "Chateau Jam" from The Chateau Sessions do it a bit, and even though I've been mostly covering the more raucous jams from the Cap run, there are other examples besides this "Tumble" from there as well.

Anyway, it's great. It feels like spaces like this one really pull out Rick's jazz influences, a facet of his playing that I feel often gets lost when the band is just crushing peak after peak. The bit that starts at 13:00 in particular is a great example of this. Also, Cotter is just super fun to watch play (13:40 or so for an example).

Anyway, the jazzgasm finally comes to an end at 16:12 with a super smooth segue into something that initially sounds a bit like Deodato's "2001"/"Also Sprach Zarathustra." Not a huge stretch, I suppose, as the band covered that tune as recently as...2019, I think? I'm gonna be lazy and not look it up for once.

Rick continues being completely on fire for this section, looping a melody around and around and back on itself for a minute or two before transitioning into some funk chording. The chording meshes really well with the staccato stuff that Peter starts laying down on the Vibe, and Cotter's cymbal-centric playing is a great background for it all.

Rick busts back into solo mode at 19:50 with a very Allman Bros. tone, and Pete shifts over to the organ. Here, Trevor takes a bit more of a forward role, and, well, if you wanted some peak jamming in your "Tumble," this is your time.

Holy crap, there is this bit at 21:15 where Rick is just noodling away and Trevor is utterly destroying the building by alternating between two notes, and it's fantastic.

We get a classic bit of unhinged tension injected into the jam at 22:00 and emerge on the other side in the key of "Tumble" again, and then at 23:00 the band brings it home with the ending of the song proper.

Okay, so that was way better than I remembered, and certainly not a "typical" version of the tune. This is why I love revisiting these things!

Also, I definitely have to go work now.

One more Phish jam for y'all next time, and that'll likely be the last for awhile as Goose fully takes over my music-listening life until June 30th.

[hannieween]

pillow talk | city lights series | h.js

Deep down, you knew you were growing an attachment to... whatever this was. Joshua was not intoxicating, you were wrong about that, he was addictive.

✮ pairings: joshua hong x female reader ✮ genre: angst, smut (18+) ✮ aus: rock singer joshua, neighbours with benefits ✮ word count: 11.7k

→ part i – part ii – other fics

₊🎧: closer to you - jung kook ♡︎ | bad sad and mad - bibi | not sorry - i.m ♡︎

₊ nsfw warnings under the cut

✮ warnings: smut with plot, low-key instant love, slight corruption kink, foul language, dirty talk, dom Joshua, sub reader, big dick Joshua, a bit of praise/degradation kink, oral sex (f), a bit of grinding, pussy stretching, brat taming: spanking and bondage (f. receiver), protected sex, doggy, dumbification, multiple orgasms (f, m) pet names: bunny, baby, pretty, sweetheart, princess (hers)

part iii

It was about one in the morning when your brain decided it had its fill from your bed and it was time to get to work. You let out a frustrated groan and threw your bedcovers away, stretching your arms as you made your way to the bathroom to wash your face.

The last two weeks have been a nightmare, in both the literal and figurative way. Not sleeping for a few nights straight does more damage to your body each time you go on a streak like this. It affects appetite, causes mood swings and those two symptoms together make your life living a nightmare.

But in fact you were in the final stages of finishing your manuscript. So not sleeping meant you had more time to work on it and, perfectionist that you are, you devoted every waking hour to finishing it.

That is to say, you haven't seen Joshua for the past fourteen days. 

The last time you had seen him, you realized the feelings that were beginning to grow in you were not just lust and desire. You felt a certain kind of affection, endearment to him that was dangerous given the nature of your relationship with him.

So, you did what you knew best: bury yourself in writing and reading. And to really sink yourself in work, you'd either go to a library or a café to write.

Sometimes you gave yourself breaks, you went to the gym, to the market, went out with Yena, it was all good. It kept your mind off the thought of your neighbor turned fuckbuddy turned crush.

Is he a crush? Who knows. The waters are muddy after sleeping with him. Was he still a crush if you felt something unspeakable for him?

Who knows.

Though you haven't had any interactions with him, your brain couldn't stop reminding you of him. Even your social media appeared to be knowing that you had something to do with his band, since your feed was plagued with Midnight Haze photos.

One day you decided to venture a little into his personal page. His page was kept up to date with posts that were mostly of him on stage. The shots ranged from him playing guitar, his eyes set on the chords, brow furrowed in concentration, tongue in between his lips.

The most recent photos were of him in a professional recording studio. Apparently Midnight Haze was recording something. So at least, he was busy as well.

It didn't come as a surprise to you when you had dreams of him—or nightmares, you called them.

Brutal, cruel nightmares of him in which he'd be with you: he'd called you his, whispered sweet nothings in your ear. More painful to you was knowing that he was off limits.

Because he told you that himself, after your inquisitive mouth pried on his thoughts on relationships. He's been single for years and he's not actively looking for someone.

It seemed easier to you to best leave it alone. And most painful for you to know that he wasn't looking for you either.

Or so you thought.

It was Friday night. The city was not particularly busy at one in the morning but the few cars on transit had music playing loud on speakers as they passed by.

You made it to the rooftop of your building, feeling so drowsy and frustrated from the lack of sleep that you rested your head on the top of the ledge, using your forearms as a pillow.

The restlessness caused by the inability to sleep made your chest and head tired.

You've tried many things to combat insomnia. Ranging from getting sleeping pills or gummies (which worked, but didn't like the co-dependence they created), calming teas (didn't work), exercise (at what cost, really), special gummies (fun but don't really work after a while), etcetera.

So, like the dramatic you were, you decided to suffer through it.

The rattling noise caused by the exit door of the rooftops startled you, making you snap your head back to see Joshua stepping out into the chill air of the night. 

You wanted to say that Joshua was a sight for sore eyes. Yes. But deep down, you only knew that seeing him, being around him would only end up bad for you.

"Hi, Joshua," you mumbled nonetheless when he crossed the space between you and him.

Dressed all in black, hoodie, sweatpants, sneakers, he looked irresistible. And on top of that he looked disappointed too, or upset.

A question rose in the back of your mind: did he hear you use the fire exit to come to the rooftop and that's how he found you were here?

You had to tilt your head back to look up at him. His tired eyes studied your face, almost as if he had forgotten the features from it. Even in the cold air, you felt blood creep on your cheeks, so hot you thought it'd cause frostbite.

"You've been avoiding me."

Oh, he was upset.

"I haven't," you lied and you even put up the act of it and shook your head innocently.

"Why?" he asked, ignoring your obvious lie.

"I'm not avoiding you, Joshua. I've been busy, that's all," you replied.

That last part was true. But you made sure that you stayed busy to have little time for him.

"Did I do something wrong? The other night. I understand if you don't want to see me but I just want to know," he asked slowly, his curious eyes gathering every single movement and expression you made.

Your whole body shook with the memory of the last night you saw him—of him taking care of you after fucking you hard, making you feel things like no one ever had made you feel.

"Everything's fine, Joshua. You did no-nothing wrong," you stammered nervously.

He didn't look satisfied with your answer. Probably because it was pretty evident that you were holding back the truth.

It was crazy how well he read you, he didn't even know you for long.

"I uh-'m about to finish the manuscript," you blurted, not knowing if starting small talk was the smartest thing, but in your anxiousness from seeing him again, that's the first thing you went for.

Joshua blinked. "That means you won't need me anymore," he said in a hollow tone as a corner of his lips rose slightly in a faint but bitter smile.

"That was the deal," you frowned, bewildered at his reaction. "I'm submitting the final version on monday."

He nodded silently, pushing his black bangs from his forehead with one hand.

Something inside you fluttered again. God, he's so beautiful. His plump lips and big dark eyes, his large pretty hands, his soft voice. Intoxicating.

"So I have three nights left," he frowned slightly.

You nodded, the fluttering inside you intensified, stealing your breath away.

"If you'd still have me, obviously," his pierced eyebrow arched. "Unless that's why you're avoiding me."

He couldn't be farther from the truth.

A frustrated sigh broke in your chest. "Shut up, Joshua," you whispered into his lips, using a hand on his nape to pull him to you, which he kissed back instantly, and almost fervently.

Joshua's chest vibrated with a groan when your other hand crept up to reach the crook of his neck. Kissing him again this deeply and passionately almost broke you, it did something to your brain, like taking a breath for the first time in days.

"You drive me crazy," he groaned, pressing your body with his own against the hard wall of the ledge.

You gasped and looked at his eyes before his mouth was on yours again. Your hands grabbed his face as his mouth kissed you heatedly, almost angrily.

"Do you remember your safeword?" he breathed against you, pushing his forehead to your own.

The safeword immediately was uttered by you, no second thought paid to what this would cost you, what this would mean to you.

"That's my girl," he whispered as his fingers gingerly grabbed your cheek, to kiss your lips softly over and over again.

It killed you how much some simple words would have your knees wobbling. You weren't his girl. But god, you ached for it to be true.

"Joshua," you whispered back in between kisses.

"Mm?" he hummed, moving his lips to your jaw and below your ear.

"Please, just..." you moaned when you felt his lips reach the crook of your neck, where he breathed softly as he placed open mouthed kisses on your skin.

"What is it, princess?" he asked, still torturing you with tender kisses on your neck, your body pressed against the wall of the ledge on the rooftop.

"Let's go to mine," you managed to get out, your fingers reaching the side of his head, feeling his soft dark hair.

"What if I want you right here?" he groaned gruffly, his mouth coming back to yours to kiss you, muffling a weak moan from you. "Would you like that, sweetheart?"

A rush of adrenaline at the thought of Joshua fucking you against the wall burned in your bones. "Yes, oh god, yes," you whimpered pathetically.

He hummed in approval, his hands grabbing your waist to give you a gentle squeeze. "You'd let me fuck you anywhere?" he nudged his nose with yours.

You nodded slightly, the tip of your nose brushing his. "I would. Anywhere, Shua."

"Even if someone sees?" he asked, darting a look down to your lips then your eyes.

You considered it for a second. "Yeah, I think so," you nodded. 

His dark eyes glinted in fascination, a mischievous smile showing his teeth. "Lean against the wall, bunny. I wanna lift you up."

You did as he told, leaning your shoulder blades against the brick wall of the ledge the same time he hoisted your legs around his hips, pressing your body between his own and the wall.

"Why are you in your pjs?" he asked with a small smile when he appeared to be seeing you clearly once you were in his arms.

"I can't sleep," you explained, trying to kiss him again but he pulled his head back a bit, stopping you.

"Why?" he frowned.

Because of you.

"I just can't sleep," you insisted flatly. "You know this."

"I know but–," he pointed with his nose at your bunny pyjamas. "You're shivering."

"It's cold," you replied with a meek smile.

He rolled his eyes with a sweet smile. "Right. Seems like we're taking this to your place, then."

"Nooo," you cried out, cupping the side of his head to try and kiss him again, you grazed his lips as you added: "I wan' you here. Right now."

A low moan coiled in his throat when your tongue swiped past his lower lip and brushed against his. "Brat," he whispered, adjusting your body in his arms to pull away from the wall, carrying you altogether and toward the door that led back inside the building.

You instinctively wrapped your legs and arms around him to hold onto his strong body until he put you back to the floor to lead you down the stairs.

"Is your lock still the same?" he asked when you got to your door.

You nodded, your body had stopped shivering now that you were in the hallway of the heated building.

He entered the number combination of your door to open it for you and you were quick to hold onto his hand to take him directly to your bedroom, earning a soft chuckle from him.

Something broke inside you, something desperate, eager and hungry. You were growing addicted to him and been deprived from his touch for two weeks.

You turned to him and grabbed his head as he dipped for a reciprocated needy kiss. Your hands slid down to his chest to push him against your bed, he stumbled backwards.

Though his body barely touched the foot of the bed, he understood what you wanted. 

"Impatient little thing," he sighed, revealing an amused smile.

"I missed you," you admitted despite yourself pushing him again so that he climbed to the bed backwards before kicking his shoes. You followed his movements, climbing the bed after him.

Impatience is a funny thing, it manifests in you in the most unexpected ways. It made you confident enough to get him under your body, his hands reaching out to knead your thighs through your bunny pyjamas as you straddled him, feeling his already hardened length as you pressed against him.

You repeated the movement, anchoring your hands on his hard chest to press on him again and again, thus grinding on him, making yourself moan and salivate upon feeling how big he felt, how hard for you he was already. 

"Fuck," he whispered softly, grabbing your hips to follow your movements, his face contorted slightly. 

"Did you miss me?" you asked meekly, your heart thumping violently against your chest.

"Is that what you wanted?" he retorted bitterly.

Then his hands tightened on your hips, and deciding it wasn't enough, he slipped them under your pyjama bottoms and undies to grab and knead your ass along with a groan.

"That's not an answer, Joshua," you pointed matter-of-factly.

A low chuckle escaped his mouth. "You're bossy tonight, princess," he muttered.

You pressed your hips down a bit harder and more demanding against his hard cock. You knew you wouldn't last long like this, since you were already feeling breathless and tired.

Joshua's eyes were trained on you, shining with a glint of fascination. His hands grabbed your ass firmly, following the movements of your hips against his cock. He even blinked slowly, as if not wanting to miss a fraction of a second of this.

His hands moved up from your ass, following the line of your back, gathering your top along to remove it completely with a bit of your help.

Joshua knew you were growing tired, he could see it as his awe-struck eyes were looking at you fixedly. "You're good at riding, baby," he mumbled with a small smile. "But you're a bit tired, aren't you?"

You nodded embarrassedly.

His knuckles grazed your nipples and started teasing them with his fingers, pinching at them softly, making you moan and buckle your hips against him.

"I need you, Joshua," you admitted and half pleaded.

Joshua chuckled softly, an amused look on his face. He kept watching you lose control on top of him, grinding on top of him desperately, your panties were so wet already that the fabric was sticking to your throbbing core.

You were beginning to feel desperate for release just from rubbing your fully clothed cunt against his hard (and also clothed) cock, moaning as his fingers teased your nipples.

"Please, please, Shua. I need you so bad," you whimpered as you swayed your hips desperately on him, beginning to feel that if you continued you would cum without him even touching you properly.

"What do you need from me, baby? You seem to be getting off like this," he muttered with his honeyed voice, looking at you with smiling eyes.

"Shua, please, I need you to—god-" you were cut short when Joshua lifted his hips from the bed slightly, pressing his hard cock against your core.

Your hands slid up his chest and held onto his shoulders to angle your clit on top of his hard cock, rubbing it desperately through your clothes and his.

"Take control, Joshua," you swallowed hard, panting from the exercise. "I need you to take control."

With all of the ease in the world, his hands grabbed you before he pushed your body on the bed and swiftly moved his body on top of yours.

"See that wasn't so hard," he muttered with a grin.

"You're enjoying this," you pointed, narrowing your eyes.

"It was fun watching you almost come with half your clothes on," his pierced brow arched slightly.

You blushed and tried to roll your eyes, feeling certain that although he said he was having fun, he was aching to take control as much as you were.

"You're being mean," you pouted, pretending to be offended.

A large hand cupped the side of your head, pushing away your hair with his fingers.

"That's what you get for shutting me out, sweetheart," he grunted before clashing his hot mouth on yours.

The kiss was greedy and dominating, almost as if he wanted to kiss your very soul. Joshua had never kissed you like that before, and you thought that maybe in past kisses he might have been holding back.

You moaned in his mouth, your hand sliding on his nape as the other held onto his shoulder.

"I looked for you, I knocked on your door but you never answered," he muttered in a dangerously low tone, sending chills down your spine.

He moved back and yanked your pyjama bottoms down, bringing your ruined panties along, leaving you wholly naked on the sheets of your messy bed.

"'m sorry," you muttered, looking down at your bare body left at the mercy of his scrutiny.

"Mmm, yeah. I've heard you say that before," he smiled playfully, making your insides jolt again.

He slowly placed his two hands on each side of your head, his arms towering on your sides as he dipped his head to place a feathery kiss on your lips, so slow and barely kissing that you felt his breath on your tongue.

"I think you like it," he said faintly into your lips, his voice below a murmur. "You disappeared on me to make me want you, is that it?"

"No, Joshua, I–"

"Because it worked," he cut in, lowering down his body so that his elbows pressed on the bed, you felt his weight on you. "I missed you."

"You did?" you asked, searching his eyes.

"I shouldn't—I know," he said as he clasped his mouth against yours, as if not wanting to hear what you'd say.

You moaned in protest on his lips.

Joshua broke the kiss with a soft smacking sound from his lips. "I'm your fuckbuddy, your toy to use."

"Joshua, you're not–" you tried to protest.

"I give you everything you want," he continued, pressing his forehead against yours, avoiding your gaze. "I make you feel good. I fuck you and leave the next day," he ran the tip of his finger down your cheek. "All for you to write about it."

The words started to sink in, and you got the full view of you in his perspective. And you understood why he was upset.

The transaction between you and him might not be as fair as you initially thought—he gets your body, however he wants it, whenever he wants it, or so it was the deal before you chickened out.

And in turn, you get pleasure, you feel wanted because of him and on top of it you get to use those experiences with him to finish your book.

"Joshua," you tried to protest, but he quickly brought a thumb to brush over your wet lips.

"I don't want to hear it," he whispered softly. "You owe me no explanations."

"But I feel like I do," you replied shamefully.

Joshua shook his head slightly. "We'll talk when I'm done with you," he pushed his forehead against yours again. "I need you right now."

At that, you were quickly subdued under his feathery kisses that progressed to more demanding, heated kisses. His tongue brushing yours, his lips firmly clasped on yours as his hands roamed freely on your bare skin, caressing your hips, to bring your legs around him so he could be between them.

In the back of your mind something protested: you didn't want Joshua to go on one more night thinking that you were using him. Even if you were.

But a louder voice told you that it probably seemed better to give him what he wanted now and then you could talk.

You pinched at the sides of his oversized hoodie, bringing it up and you slid your hands under the bundles of fabric to feel his bare back, eliciting a groan from him when your hands made their way to his lats.

Joshua pulled away to get rid of his hoodie, revealing his bare torso. His hair got ruffled in the way, so you reached out with your hands pushing his black hair away from his eyes.

"You're not going to tie me up this time?" you asked, remembering the last time you were in this position, except you were firmly tied to the rails of your bed.

"I have something else planned for tonight, sweetheart," he replied shortly, kissing under your jaw and using two fingers on your chin to angle your head for him.

You gave him no answer, and resorted to whining when you felt his lips on the crook of your neck, sucking slightly in the spots he knew well that would earn lewd sounds from your mouth.

Last time he did this, he marked your neck and chest with love bites, so visible and so enticing that you noticed a few curious glances from people you met on the street. You liked it, though. Liked that whenever you looked in the mirror you had a little reminder of him.

You sighed softly when his mouth made its way to your tits, where he landed more wet kisses around your areolas, biting at the soft flesh, making you cry out when his mouth captured your nipples, playing with them with his tongue and fingers each.

While you squirmed under his body, the only thing you could do was hold onto his shoulders, stroke his hair and tug at it whenever his bites would get harsher, making you moan desperately for more.

"Shua, please," you whimpered when his tongue flickered on one of your nipples, teasing with bites and more kisses.

He hummed in response, moving his hand from your waist and between your bodies, to then slip his middle and ring fingers inside you with no warning.

You gasped loudly and tugged his hair harder, making him stop teasing your tits to give you a glance as he pushed his fingers in and out of your slippery walls, massaging them with every thrust.

Soft whimpers were muffled by his mouth when he hovered on top of you to look at your face as he worked you cunt open for him, making you feel the drag of his fingers against your walls.

"What happened, baby? You were so bossy five minutes ago," he cooed, the corners of his red lips lifting slightly.

You swallowed hard. "I need you to-ahm fuck, Shua," his fingers started scissoring in your gummy walls as you tried to speak.

"I love it when you start cursing," he muttered, looking at you with a glint of amusement.

His hand started pumping on you harder and he crooked his fingers against your walls to reach for your g-spot, making you cry out and grab at his shoulders, digging your fingers on his skin.

"I need you inside me, Shua. Please," you whimpered pathetically, feeling your cheeks blaze under his devious gaze.

He pulled his fingers out of your throbbing core and thrusted them inside your mouth for you to lick them clean.

"Where did you put the condoms, sweetheart?" he asked, watching you suck his fingers obediently, only to drag them out of your mouth with a faint smack from your lips.

"In my drawer," you replied a second before Joshua's mouth was already on yours, lapping his tongue on your own to get a taste of you. 

Joshua knew you meant the drawer where you kept all your toys and underwear. He went to your first drawer and opened it to fish out the strip of condoms, get rid of the rest of his clothes, and come back to your bed.

He crawled back to you where you waited for him patiently, enjoying the sight of him naked once again.

"I want you on your knees," he muttered as he softly placed tender kisses on your lips and chin.

"M'kay," you nodded and Joshua pulled back so you could turn and follow his instruction.

A second later you felt his hand on your lower back press gently. "Bend for me, bunny."

You placed your hands on the bed as you angled your ass for him without a word, your breath coiling in your throat, making you bite your lips.

His hand slid from your lower back down to your ass, making you whimper when he caressed your skin carnally.

"You have the prettiest ass," he muttered, his other hand joining in and grabbing you firmly, adjusting you for him.

One hand left your ass and soon you felt his cockhead nudging at your entrance before pushing his length in your tight and wet walls, drawing out a long whine from you from a mixture of pleasure and pain of having him almost splitting you open with his cock.

You heard him release a heavy breath. "Fuck," he whispered when he bottomed out, grabbing you firmly before dragging out and pushing in again. "You're okay?"

You nodded. "Move, please, move, Joshua," you whimpered, feeling your pussy throb around his cock, adjusting to his size again after days of not having him inside you.

He chuckled faintly. "There's my bossy girl," he muttered before complying, rocking his hips against your ass.

Then the room was filled with the sound of sex as his hips picked up pace, slamming against your ass repeatedly, making your body bounce against him and the headboard creak and bang against the wall.  

You let out a strangled moan as you lowered yourself down to your elbows, arching your back for him. "God, Joshua," you groaned, feeling him hit deeply inside you.

Moans and whimpers spilled from your lips, which were partially muffled by pressing half of your face on your pillows.

"Fuck. You look so good like this, princess," you heard him whisper again in that awe-struck tone and you wished to have a way to see his face as he fucked you like this.

Maybe you could ask him to fuck you in front of a mirror next time, you thought. But then that would have to happen very soon, since like he said, your deal will be off in three nights.

His hands clenched on your ass and you felt him lift a hand from one of your glutes, only to bring it down in a harsh slap that reverberated across your room.

You yelped in pain, your skin sizzling on the area, and prickling when he used the same hand to rub gently. Arousal grew on your body when you felt him caress the recently tingling area.

"Harder," you muttered against your pillows. "Fuck me harder, Joshua."

You heard him chuckle softly. "Ask nicely, baby," he groaned before bringing a hand up and spanking you again harshly.

"Please, please, Joshua. I need you to fuck me harder. I need it, I need it so fucking bad, please," you cried and whimpered as your fists clenched your bedsheets, holding on as if your life depended on it.

His fingers dug on your skin before ramming his cock so deep and hard inside you that the very air escaped your lungs. The very act of having him fuck you so hard made you lose all control, your mind completely blank, all focus on his cock fucking you open.

You pressed your forehead on your pillows to muffle your cries, savoring your sweet release.

"I want to hear you, princess," he reminded you, his hand lifting again and landing in a harsher slap this time.

"Fuck!" you yelled, your head snapping back.

Your walls throbbed and clenched around his cock, feeling the sizzling on your skin be softened by his hand rubbing gently in your ass.

"Joshua," you gasped before he slapped your ass again, his hips pummeled against your ass incessantly, just how you wanted. "Fuck, I'm so close, 'm so close. Can I come? Please, please, 'm almost there."

"There's my good girl," he muttered, his hands clenching on your skin, fingers sinking on the sides of your hips as he continued to ram into you. "You can come, baby. Come on my cock."

A couple of thrusts later your orgasm washed over your body, burning so deep inside that it had you wailing loudly, your screams of pleasure reverberating against the walls.

Your fists clenched on your bedsheets in an attempt to stop your body from trembling, the pressure from the last waves of your long orgasm had you stirring your back as your whimpers flooded the room.

Your orgasm was long—the longest you've had yet. You whimpered his name as he rode your orgasm, hearing his soft groans under your moans of pleasure.

"God, Joshua," you sighed, starting to feel lightheaded.

The walls of your cunt ceased clenching erratically around him, but the wild need for more sizzled under your skin.

Joshua stopped ramming his hips against you some seconds later, the buzz on your ears started to die down, you heard his loud panting and raw groans.

His hands kept you in place, stopping you from simply collapsing into the bed until he slowly pulled out of your very sensitive walls, losing his grip on your body. 

With trembling limbs, you languidly let your body slump down on your bedsheets. Meekly turning around to find him on his knees before you, his head thrown back showing his sweaty neck, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.

Your eyes trailed down to his chest, that was also covered in a sheen layer of sweat, to his happy trail that led to his still hardened cock. The condom was full of his cum and it was so much of it, the sight of it made you shudder in a fascination that was very new to you.

You didn't even realize when he came.

The aftermath of being fucked so hard left you beyond tired, your mind was still blank, the only thing on your mind was how good it felt to be fucked open. Your skin had goosebumps all over, and your legs and legs trembled ever so slightly and it wasn't from being cold.

Joshua came down to his senses before you did, leaning his head down to look at you. "Are you okay?"

You blinked at him slowly and nodded. "'m okay."

He patted your leg softly. "C'mon, bunny. Let's get in the shower."

Your heart fluttered frantically. "No," you mumbled, turning your face onto the pillows.

"Do you want me to carry you?" you heard him ask.

You shook your head. "I'll meet you there," you told him, turning your face for him to hear you properly.

He rolled his eyes, but showed you a small smile. "If you don't, I'll come back for you."

You smiled back. "I expect nothing less."

He climbed down your bed and disappeared from your bedroom. Minutes later, you heard the faint noise from the shower in the distance as you gathered yourself.

You felt dirty, sticky. Not because of the fact that you just had sex. And not in the way that would be solved by taking a shower.

With a sigh, you collected yourself and stumbled from your bed. Dragging your body to the shower, where you found Joshua standing under the stream of water, his hands pushing his hair back.

The urge to ask him to take you again invaded you when you saw him like this. He looked incredibly hot, his soaked black hair pushed back, his eyes closed to let the water wash his face, his mouth parted a little. The water running between his toned pecs, to his bellybutton, to-

"Hi," you smiled sheepishly when he caught you staring at him.

He offered you a smile before cupping your face with his wet hands. "Sure you're okay?" he asked, looking at your eyes.

"Yeah," you breathed, holding his wrists weakly. "'m just a bit tired."

His smile grew and his eyebrow lifted. "Well, yeah. I almost break you."

You felt your cheeks grow hotter.

Joshua moved so that you had space to stand under the showerhead. "Let me," he muttered and you understood that he wanted to help you wash up.

God, why is he like this? He made it harder for you, being so caring and affectionate with you only fucked with your head.

He washed your hair in silence, the warm water and his gentle fingers rubbing your scalp almost drew you to snooze right there and then.

"Why do you do this, Joshua?" you asked, breaking the silence between you.

"Do what?" he replied, his voice low.

"Taking care of me after sex. I know you call it aftercare, but I want to know why you'd bother to do this," you mumbled, not caring that you were being a bit blunt with your words. 

"Mmm, I think it's important to treat you right. You're good to me, I'll be good to you," he hummed. "How did you feel after having sex with your former partners?"

"I didn't care enough to stay," you darted a look back to him as he washed your back.

You actually thought that it was way too intimate when Joshua held you after sex. But you found out that you liked it. In fact you liked it so much that it was one of the things you looked forward to the most then you slept with him.

His eyes searched your face for a moment. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No. I like this," you frowned. "I'm not asking you to stop. I just wanted to know what you're thinking."

There was a brief pause, but his hands kept busy washing your hair. "I think that you're thinking too much about it."

Maybe you were. Maybe you had found that you liked it when he showed you so much care and attention after sex. And maybe that was the reason why you were falling fast for him.

"Are you falling asleep, bunny?" he asked with his sweet voice when you leaned your head back on his shoulder, letting him rub soap all over your body.

You nodded weakly. "Seems like the best cure for insomnia is to have really hard sex," you mumbled.

A soft laugh came from him and you imagined his beautiful smile. Then his lips pressed on the side of your head, making your heart flutter frantically.

"We're almost done," he muttered.

He also helped you towel dry your body and hair before returning to your bedroom. You saw him gathering your pyjamas from the floor, and before he could do or say anything about them, you grabbed him by the arm and dragged him with you toward the bed.

You snuggled him under your bed sheets, avoiding his curious eyes by hiding your face on the crook of his neck despite how affectionate the act felt.

Instantly, your stomach fluttered with all the dreaded emotions you've been trying to avoid for the past few days.

You shuddered when his arms encircled your body, tugging you as close as humanly possible to his own.

"Do you still want to talk?" you heard him ask.

"I..." you craned your neck to look at his face. "I'm sorry for distancing myself, I... was busy," you whispered, feeling the need to explain more.

But he shook his head slightly. "I get it if you need space," he muttered, looking at you with sincere eyes. "Just, tell me next time, okay?"

"There won't be a next time, Joshua," you whispered. "Deal's off on monday."

He tucked his arm under his head to look at you intently. "That doesn't mean you won't disappear on me tomorrow," he smiled softly.

"Don't worry, I won't disappear," you rolled your eyes at the last word.

The corner of his mouth twitched. "I'll hold you to that statement."

"Okay, sir," you smiled. "How are you going to do that?"

"If I tell you you'll ruin the fun of it," his teeth showed as his smile broadened.

You chuckled, your chest swelling with emotions you didn't want to acknowledge.

He appeared to be knowing that you still had something to say but couldn't. "Get some rest, bunny. You deserve it," he muttered before kissing your forehead repeatedly.

"G'night, Shua," you whispered before sleeping peacefully for the first time in nights.

Joshua woke up before you did.

Before you opened your eyes, you reached out with your arms beneath the covers on the side he had slept in, only to find it empty. That made you open your eyes, reaffirming that you were alone in your bed.

"Joshua?" you called, sitting up and rubbing your eyes.

The clock on your phone read eleven o'clock. You usually didn't oversleep, since your sleeping habits were so bad.

"Oh, god," you sighed, dropping your phone on the bedcovers.

You buried your face in your hands for a few seconds before you noticed that there was no other noise in your apartment indicating that Joshua heard you call for him.

Something clenched hard in your chest, as if the bitter reality had punched you in your heart. You jumped out of your bed, inspecting your bedroom to find no trace of Joshua's belongings. You then dressed in your pyjamas before going to the living room.

A part of you tried to tell you that he probably had plans to tend to, and that was fair. Your relationship was purely sexual, so there was no need to wake up together like an actual couple.

But the other part of you was aching to know why he had left like that.

You grabbed your phone that you abandoned on your bed. It was fruitless, though, since you hadn't even exchanged phone numbers.

Teary eyed, you tried not to let it get into you.

However, the onslaught of anxieties invaded your mind quickly. How were you supposed to react? Would you feel indifferent if you weren't infatuated with him? Nothing could rub off the fact that Joshua came in last night, fucked you and then left while you slept.

Even if you tried to distract yourself, you couldn't shrug off the feeling that if you had listened to yourself last night before kissing him again, you wouldn't be feeling this dumb.

Would pretending that what happened last night help? Probably not. But did you have the need to distance yourself from the fact that you were hurt he left without saying bye? Yes.

So you pretended he didn't exist at all and you took yourself out for a stroll to the mall, and the bookstore, buy something cute for yourself.

It was childish, you knew that much. Buying yourself cute stuff in the attempt to rid your mind off the thought of him was only a reaffirmation that he was very much present in your mind. And was costing you money, if you dared to pay more attention to it.

No, you're doing this for you. You told yourself over and over again.

You bought yourself a new outfit, a novel that had been on your feed the past month, a lavender candle for your studio, and you even indulged in buying a new lingerie set. Only for you, obviously.

You came back to your building hands full: shopping bags on both hands, and you managed to carry milk tea in the midst. So when you got into your elevator, you found yourself in a bit of a tussle.

"Do you need help with that?" you heard someone ask, making you tear your eyes from the buttons of the elevator to find a young man, of sharp nose and sweet brown eyes.

"Thank you," you smiled shyly and stepped back. "I'm on the third floor."

The stranger's lithe fingers only pressed the button on the third floor.

"Ah, look at that. Me too," he smiled politely.

"We're neighbors, then," you pointed out the obvious with the intention of being friendly. "I'm 317."

"Aaahh," he sighed while nodding his head, the tips of his ears growing red. "Nice. 318," he pointed one finger to his frame.

Your stomach dropped. So this was Joshua's roommate.

"Nice meeting you," you smiled, feeling your cheeks grow hot. But you told him your name nonetheless.

"Nice meeting you too, I'm Seokmin," he nodded politely, but you just couldn't ignore how red his ears had turned.

You knew why you were feeling hot in your face. Unfortunately, you've heard him and his girlfriend having sex a couple of times. But why was he blushed too?

Oh, crap. Has he heard you and Joshua?

"Well, see you around," he nodded again when the doors of the elevator parted and he hurried toward his apartment door.

"See you," you muttered, but he was already opening his door and closing it immediately.

You got in your apartment, kicking your shoes and dropping your bags on the floor of your living room before sitting down on your comfy couch to chew absentmindedly on the straw.

Mind reeling, you thought of the times when you screamed Joshua's name as you came. Did his roommate hear that? The walls were thin, so it was all too likely that he'd heard your lewd noises.

A soft knock on your door startled you, stopping your train of thought. And suddenly, you were running to your door, opening it to find Joshua standing outside.

Not a word came out from your mouth—you didn't say hi, or cuss him out, as you thought you would while you were busy trying to shrug him off your thoughts.

You just grabbed him by the collar of his t-shirt and dragged him inside your apartment as your lips met his.

"Hi there yourself," Joshua muttered, an amused smile on his lips once you broke away to let him in.

"No talking," you shushed, your hand slipping on his nape to pull him for another kiss.

He muffled a chuckle in your mouth, using a hand on your waist to pull you closer to his frame.

"''m sorry for leaving this morning, I-" he stammered quickly in between needy kisses from you.

"I said no talking," you insisted with a whine.

He looked amused for a moment. Then he bit his lower lip before bending down, his hands that were on your waist quickly lifted you up just like the night before, so you quickly caught on to what he was trying to do.

You wrapped your legs around him as he carried you and threw you on your bed, making you yelp in excitement and prop yourself on your elbows to take a look at him.

Joshua kicked his boots off before pressing a knee on the mattress. He was wearing something stylish, in line with his general style, but he also looked flawless, almost as if camera ready.

"Where were you?" you inquired, seeing his denim blue jacket, equally blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt.

Unlike the night before, his hair was arranged carefully, a few stray strands of hair hanging neatly on his forehead.

"I thought you didn't want to talk," he replied as he took his blue denim jacket off and dropped to the floor.

Joshua appeared to be in a haste. He grabbed the hem of the blouse you wore and you automatically raised your arms for him to drag your pretty top off you.

"I'm curious now," you sighed, trying to look unbothered.

You lowered your head on your pillows to watch him undo the button of his blue jeans with one free hand and then step out of them and his half naked body climbed on top of yours.

"I was busy," he told you indifferently, reading your expression with the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Oh, I see," your eyebrows arched. "That's how it is. Okay."

He cocked the pierced eyebrow at you, almost mimicking your expression. "Are you mad at me?"

"No," you replied quickly. "Why would I be?"

Joshua sighed a small chuckle when your hands went to the hem of his shirt, trying to take it off his body. He helped you through it, moving his body back to pull his body from the pristine white fabric.

He tossed his t-shirt to the floor. "You tell me, baby. You're the one with the attitude," he pointed, his tone was not condescending, he sounded amused at your tantrum.

"I don't have an attitude," you bit back as you unclasped your bra. "It was just a question."

He helped you move your bra out of the way. "I had a showcase to some producers," he explained as the smile broadened on his face.

"And earlier this morning?" you blurted, your cheeks growing blazing hot.

When you saw his eyes bore into your again, there was a glint of intrigue in them. As if he'd just put two and two.

"Are you asking me why I left when you were sleeping?" he didn't wait for your answer, but you could tell that his gaze softened. "I had to leave early and I just didn't wake you cause I knew that you needed sleep."

You felt embarrassed but eased into the bed. "Oh, okay. I'm sorry," you darted a look in his amused face.

"I didn't think it would upset you," he said as his eyes captured every movement. "I'm sorry if it did."

"Oh, no, nonono," you blurted hurriedly. "I didn't—when did I say I was upset?"

"Did you think I left to make you feel bad in any way?" he ventured with a small confused frown.

"No—of course not. I just thought," you stammered, but stopped once you found yourself at a loss for reasons.

His eyes locked on yours. "Why did you think I'd do that?"

"Because I avoided you for weeks," you mumbled with a small roll of your eyes, feeling annoyed at yourself from earlier.

"Mmm, so you do admit to that, baby?" the corners of his lips rose slightly.

You bit your tongue so hard your eyes watered.

Joshua's gaze hardened, with a sigh he pushed the tip of his nose on the apple of your cheek almost lovingly before muttering: "I thought you trusted me, sweetheart."

You swallowed thickly. "Joshua, I'm sorry," you tried to explain but he cut you off.  

"You need to stop saying that," he whispered against your cheek before pressing his lips on your cheekbone. "Especially when you don't mean it."

Your brow furrowed. "I mean it," you replied innocently. "I'm sorry."

"Prove it," he muttered darkly in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

"I'll do anything," you replied all too quickly.

"No talking, baby," he growled in your ear. 

You watched him climb down the bed and open the top drawer to get the fuzzy handcuffs he had gotten for you.

"Joshua, I-"

"I said no talking," he repeated, and unlike you, he made his command firm. "If you want to stop, use your safeword."

Half naked, he climbed back to the bed, and sat on his knees on top of you, straddling you, without lowering his full weight on you.

"Give me your hand," he locked one wrist first and placed your arm above your head, to then wrap the handcuffs around one of the rails of your bed.

"Give me the other," he instructed and you offered him your free wrist for him to place it above your head on the pillows, safely cuffing it with your other hand.

Two fingers grabbed your chin, forcing your eyes to lock on his. "Good girl," he whispered, placing a feathery kiss on your lips. "You only behave when you're about to get my cock. Right, pretty?"

You looked at him expectantly, feeling your face grow hotter.

The corners of his lips rose slightly when you didn't utter a word. "You could've been perfect for me," he whispered, his fingers moving from your chin, to graze your cheek fondly. "If only you weren't such a liar."

There was no answer from you. But he could see in your eyes that his words stung.

"How do you expect me to believe every word you say if your actions tell the opposite?" he inquired softly.

Even if you could talk, you knew you had nothing to say.

He tutted softly, with an air of disappointment. "Telling me you trust me, only to disappear right after."

Joshua moved from your body to undo the button of your jeans. You lifted your hips from the bed to help him get your jeans from your body and he smiled at your compliance.

Though you were also eager to see where this was going.

"You're so beautiful," he muttered, sounding fascinated as he looked at your bare body and his eyes landed on your face.

Your heart stuttered but when your eyes locked with his, you could've broke right then and there. But you bit back your words.

"I think I'm going to miss this, baby. I'm going to miss you so much," he mumbled.

It was then that you understood he was taunting you by saying sweet nothings to prompt you to speak, and it hurt you to realize it this late. Whether or not the things he was saying were true, he knew you would want to respond to him.

You glared at him as he moved on top of your body again. He caught your eye immediately, leaning his head to kiss the bridge of your nose sweetly.

"Remember when you told me you liked me?" he asked and waited for your answer, teasing you by nibbling your lower lip with his teeth. "Were you lying about that too?"

Though mildly hurt from his words, you tried holding his gaze, hoping Joshua would see the sincerity in them.

If he did, he didn't let it show.

He dipped his head on the crook of your neck, placing open mouthed kisses on your skin, holding nothing back. He licked and kissed on your sensitive spots, which he had apparently already learned by heart.

Joshua said nothing about not moaning so you moaned loudly as he sucked lovebites below your earlobe, and in the curve between your shoulder and neck, trailing down to your chest and tits. He hummed sweetly as he marked you mercilessly, as if trying to leave his mark in your skin so deeply that nothing could erase him from your memory.

You cried out when he bit the tender flesh around your areolas, only to soothe over it by running his tongue on the sore area softly. You wanted to call out his name—to tell him how good it felt. But you knew it was futile.

"God, baby. You're doing so well right now," he muttered faintly, almost as if he were impressed. "I wonder how well you'll behave with my cock inside you."

You whimpered at the crude language, feeling your body burn in excitement. The cuffs restraining your arms made a rattling noise when you squirmed under his body, making him smile.

"I was thinking of getting you a gag for your lies, but that won't be necessary. Right, bunny? Because you're such a good girl" he cocked an eyebrow at you.

Something inside you stirred, awakening every nerve in your body. You liked it when he spoke to you, he knew that. But feeling pleased after being called good for being compliant came almost as a surprise to you.

Your reaction must have been really evident in your eyes, because Joshua's smile grew broader, with an air of cheekiness.

Joshua sat back into his knees, hooking his fingers on the last piece of clothing, sliding your panties down your legs and throwing them to the side.

"Spread your legs for me, princess," he slotted himself between your thighs when you did what he asked not a second later. "That's it, baby," he whispered before dipping his tongue between your folds, without much warning.

You screwed your eyes shut, biting your lip as hard as you could to avoid running your mouth about how good it felt to have his tongue giving broad strokes against your core.

Joshua ate you out hungrily, almost as if he were trying to rip an orgasm out of you to get you to break his no talking rule. You got a sense that he was testing how far you could go without uttering a word.

You heard him humming in approval when he rendered you utterly languid, moaning and whimpering out in pure bliss. His tongue ran all over your pussy lips, placing soft kisses before laving at your core, drinking your sweet arousal avidly.

The squelching sounds caused by his mouth pressed against your core, plus the moans and cries that it elicited from you flooded the room—until the noise from squeaking bed under your trembling body joined in, and the handcuffs rattling against your bed posts as you came on his mouth.

Gasping embarrassingly for air, you blinked and found his head buried between your thighs. You felt his lips press soft kisses on your mound.

"Did you just cum?" he asked when you were left utterly breathless, and your body went limp on your bed covers.

You nodded weakly, your chest heaving.

"Fuck, baby. You're being so good," he gasped, his smile broadening. "I don't think I'll be able to stay away from you."

Your heart lurched, hurting so bad that you closed your eyes to his beautiful face.

When you opened your eyes, you caught a sight of him moving back from your body, and your eyes unavoidably fell off his hard length pressed against the tight fabric of his black underwear. A shiver ran down your spine when he got rid of the last piece of his clothing and you saw his hard cock practically spring out of his briefs and slap his tummy softly, the reddened tip glistening wet in precum.

Then you followed his hand that reached for the strip of condoms that were on your nightstand. He grabbed one and opened it carefully, and slid the material down his thick cock, a hand making sure the latex was down to his hilt.

Your walls fluttered at the sight of him and you almost wanted to have one hand free to slap yourself. Not even your heart could be at ease with his beauty, but your pussy went crazy about him too.

Joshua caught sight of you biting your lower lip aloofly, reveling at the sight of him completely naked before you. He showed you an amused smile, but for once he didn't tease you about your very evident attraction to him.

"Ready, princess?" he asked, when he placed his body between your thighs.

Missionary? You wanted to tease. But you just nodded at him.

He grabbed his cock with one hand, guiding it to your core to ease himself inside your tight walls. Your legs twitched at his sides at the stinging sensation of having his length pushing your walls open with little to no prep.

"You're so fucking tight, baby," he moaned once he bottomed out and started pulling out slowly. "Almost as if I didn't fuck you last night."

You moaned and squirmed when Joshua pushed his cock on you again, pulling out and then sinking in again.

"You're okay there?" he asked, bumping the tip of your nose with his.

You nodded silently.

His face was so close to yours that you felt his breath landing on your skin—it was then when you realized that he's never kissed you while having sex with you.

Your eyes were lost on his plump lips, so absentmindedly that you didn't notice that he was looking at you.

"Do you want to kiss me, sweetheart?" he asked softly, his hips thrusting against yours tortuously slow.

You nodded.

One corner of his mouth twitched slightly before pressing his lips on yours a couple of times before sinking into a slow, passionate kiss that made him moan into your mouth.

You could've melted into his lips. A sweet moan in pure delight was muffled by Joshua's mouth when you dragged your tongue over his lower lip and met his tongue with your own, that seemingly made him lose control, his hips buckling wildly.

Then he broke away from your lips with a strangled groan, retracting his chest from yours completely. In one sudden movement, he hoisted your legs up, leaning his body towards you so that your thighs were pressed against your chest—trapped between you and him.

If he seemed collected a minute before, Joshua was the total opposite when his hips started to slam against you again, dragging his cock in and out your walls aimlessly. He screwed his eyes shut for a moment.

"Fuck," he muttered in between his teeth.

The almost brutal ache to touch him robbed the air from you, you ached to feel his face in your hands, to caress his skin. You wanted to make him feel good in the same way he did for you, you wanted to please him.

"Are you there, baby?" he asked, noticing you deep in wonder, looking at him with mesmerized eyes.

You only nodded with your head, committed to his rule.

The second orgasm drew near, sizzling under your skin, his cock buried so deep in your walls that after a few thrusts, you were mewling desperately, uttering wordless pleas for release.

You thought you sounded pathetic, dumb. Desperately pleading for your sweet release without being allowed to speak a single word.

Deep down, you knew you were growing an attachment to... whatever this was: the way your body responded to him, the pleasure you got from complying with his games, you knew you wanted more. Joshua was not intoxicating, you were wrong about that, he was addictive.

Tears brimmed in your eyes when Joshua practically rammed his hips against you, fucking you so hard into your bed that your eyes rolled back, the last thing you saw was the pair of handcuffs rattling around the rails of your bed.   

You moaned loudly, back stirring on your bed, your fingers curling into fists so hard your fingernails dug into your palms. The tears ran down your temples as your second orgasm hit you just as hard as the one before it.

"That's it baby," he cooed, sounding pleased. "You're taking it so well," his voice was a mere whisper, you almost didn't catch his words over your loud whimpers and the sound of his skin slapping against yours.

When you opened your eyes again, his brow was furrowed, his eyelids fluttering close. He bit his lower lip, muffling a raspy groan as his thrusts became sloppy, ramming his cock to the hilt inside your walls a few times as he came.

Joshua eased your shaking legs back to your bed, then he retracted his hips from yours, slowly pulling out of your oversensitive core. In a matter of seconds, he was grabbing the key to release your wrists from the fuzzy cuffs.

"Are you okay?" he asked carefully.

As he worked to get your hands free, his head was hovering above yours. You looked at his dark eyes, his chapped lips, the furrowed brow in weariness when you wouldn't come up with a verbal response.

"'m good," you replied with a hoarse voice.

Though the handcuffs were padded with fuzzy fabric, your wrists were sore from the struggle. With a sigh of relief you let your arms rest at your sides, feeling the tiredness from being stuck in the same position for minutes.

"Hold on, let me clean up and I'll be right back, okay?" he muttered, planting one kiss on your forehead before leaving the room.

When he returned some minutes later, he had grabbed a glass of water for you. "Drink up."

You sat up weakly, your arms and legs felt shaky and weak from the demanding position you were for minutes that you could barely support yourself.

Joshua examined you with his curious eyes as you drank the glass of water.

"Thank you, Shua," you smiled at him.

He sat beside you on the bed. "Sure you're okay?"

You nodded, leaving the empty glass on your nightstand before slumping down on your pillows.

"Cuddle with me," you mumbled shyly.

Joshua complied silently, crawling on your bed to lie down by your side. He propped his head on his elbow, as his other arm circled you by your waist.

Trying to savor your last night with him, you closed your eyes as soon as you felt his warmth against your back. You almost let yourself pretend that this wasn't your second to last night with him. 

"Talk to me, bunny," he whispered after a brief moment of silence.

"What do you want me to say?" you mumbled, bewildered at the sudden command.

"Just tell me what you're thinking, please," you looked at him, his curious eyes scrutinizing your face. "You're not here."

You frowned. "I'm here, Joshua," you replied slowly.

He shook his head. "I know you're overthinking again."

You scoffed loudly. "Oh, yeah? And you know that how exactly?"

"Don't do that," his hand tapped your tummy gently.

"Do what?"

He paused for a brief moment, as if searching for the right words to say. "Deflect. You're deflecting," he muttered.

"So what if I am?" you replied bitterly, turning on your bed so you were fully facing him.

What were you supposed to say? You weren't even sure how you felt exactly, because you knew you were falling for the idea of him like this, holding you close to him. How could you translate that into words? He didn't believe you anyway.

"You know I'm not really angry with you, right?" he asked, maybe thinking that was the reason you were quiet.

"I know," you reassured him. "I really am sorry, Joshua."

You gave him a sincere look, Joshua sighed softly under a smile. "Don't worry, princess. I know," he pressed his hand flatly on your back. "I just wish you could tell me what's bothering you."

"Nothing's bothering me," you laughed at his sincere worry. "I'm okay, Joshua."

"Mmkay," he muttered, setting the matter aside reluctantly.

You scooted closer to him on the bed, nuzzling to the warmth of his body.

"Are you cold?" he asked, noticing when you exhaled, pleased to have his warmth on your skin. "We can get under the covers if you want."

"This is okay," you replied.

Joshua locked eyes with you for a second and you averted your gaze, looking down at your bodies on your bed.

"We never got to do your list," he smiled slightly.

You returned the smile meekly. "I think you surpassed whatever idea I had in mind," you confessed.

"Oh, really?" he cocked an eyebrow. "Will I get to see what you wrote?"

You frowned, realizing that you never got around to that part of the subject with him. "Of course, if you want," you blinked.

He giggled. "Am I allowed to read your unedited manuscript?"

"I mean, the sex scenes are only possible because of you. It would be rude of me to gatekeep it from you," you pointed with a flush.

Joshua let out a breathy laugh. "Did I make it to the acknowledgements part?"

"Stop it," you laughed.

"'Special thanks to my neighbor Joshua,'" he muttered in an imitation of your voice, which sounded really far off.

"It's not an acceptance speech," you said with a scoff.

"I better see my name when I get to that part of the book," he warned with a feigned seriousness that was replaced by a small smile.

"Or what?" you quipped. "When the book is out you won't be able to punish me," you smiled confidently.

"I can do that now," he shrugged. "And tomorrow."

You rolled your eyes, unsatisfied with his answer. You half expected him to tell you that he wanted to keep going with whatever this was.

"I haven't gotten to write the acknowledgements part," you told him, trying to move the conversation. "First the manu needs to go under revision again, then if there's anything that needs to get sorted in editing and then..."

Joshua had his eyes fixated on your face, he was looking at you but his mind seemed entirely elsewhere.

"What?" you blurted.

"Nothing I was just..." he shook his head. "Sorry, you were saying?"

"You weren't paying attention," you scolded with a whine.

He easily captured the hand you used to try and slap his shoulder. "Sorry, sorry," he chuckled.

"Am I boring you, Joshua?" you asked, trying to sound offended but when his high pitched giggle wasn't helping.

"No, you're not—stop it," he captured your hand again.

You ceased your futile attacks. "What were you thinking about?"

He was still lying on his side, head propped up in his hand by the help of his elbow. You saw his face relax and lose his smile.

"Last night, when we were in the shower, you said that you didn't care enough about your exes to stay for aftercare," his eyes studied your face for any reaction. "Can I ask why?"

You were taken aback by his question, why was he thinking of that moment precisely? But you saw why he would be intrigued by your comment.

"It wasn't that serious," you shrugged. "I never saw it as something I needed from my ex partners, nor something I even wanted."

He smiled with a small cough. "And what makes me different? Why do you want me to stay every time?"

Your heart clenched tightly. "Why do you ask?"

"You got angry at me because I left this morning," he explained. "What you're telling me now doesn't add up with your hissy fit from earlier."

"I did not have a hissy fit!" you sulked with a pout.

He smiled sweetly at you. "Yes you did, princess."

You rolled your eyes but decided not to argue any further, although you knew that he partly was right, though he didn't know what took you to react to such extremes. 

"Answer me," he urged, his voice low but not commanding. Almost as though he was more impatient to know.

"I like being with you, Joshua," you replied with an obvious tone. "You're not entirely unbearable to be around."

Joshua laughed, his smile pushing his eyes into two crescent moons. "Ditto," he replied.

The jab in your heart was like nothing you had ever felt before. It pushed you to suspect that maybe you were going crazy, that maybe you had a disease that you didn't know about and that only presented itself every time you saw him. It robbed you of the air in your lungs, made you crave something that only you could get from him.

How can you ever tell him that? That was never part of your original deal with him. It wasn't fair—he said it himself, he felt used by you. Although he wasn't complaining, how can you tell him that you were falling in love? It just didn't feel fair.

"What happened here?" you asked, tracing a line along his hip bones, where he had two faint brown bruises.

"You have them too," he muttered, placing his hand on your glute lightly. "They're from last night."

"Oh," you flushed, twisting to see where his hand was pointing to, where you could notice a small bruise on your glute. "I didn't notice that. Sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for," he sighed with a smile.

"I kind of like it," you confessed sheepishly.

"I know," he nodded to your chest covered in hickeys, he used his pointer finger and caressed ever so slightly over your marked skin connecting lines between each hickey.

You let out a weak laugh that slowly grew louder when the tip of his finger reached close to the side of one of your breasts, closing in toward your armpit and your instinct threw you back from his touch, cringing away with laughter.

Joshua responded to your laugh with his own, but instead of leaving it to rest he reached out toward you with his hand, threatening with more tickles.

"Stop," you pleaded, laughing only from seeing his hand closing in toward you.

"I'm not even touching you," he replied with an adorable chuckle.

You slapped his hand away but that only made him laugh harder.

"Please," you whispered, gasping for air as his finger made it to your collarbones again.

"Okay, okay," he replied and sighed heavily with a smile still on his face.

The brief exchange had left your body tingling, and rapidly growing hot. Joshua was looking at you expectantly, almost as if he could hear your thoughts.

Your hand slid to his nape at the same moment he leaned closer in the bed to kiss you fervently. His tongue sliding on your mouth to find yours with a low groan.

The kiss was ardent in passion, almost as if his lips were locking yours with the need to melt into them. It almost hurt you to wonder that he probably meant what he said before: he would miss this.

He placed a hand flatly on your hip, your body responded by tingling in excitement when his thumb caressed your skin lightly as he kissed you hungrily.

"Joshua?" you mumbled when you broke the kiss suddenly.

"Mm?" he hummed with a gentle nuzzle of the tip of his nose on yours.

"I don't want this to stop," you blurted, pulling back on your pillows to search his eyes.

You held your breath. All your anxieties from the days of avoiding Joshua lied in that question. Even though you knew you weren't helping your bad case of infatuation with him, you were willing—but probably shouldn't—take what you could from what he gave you.

"We don't have to stop," he replied, locking his lips with yours briefly. "I don't want to either."

You kissed him fervently, trying to express all your emotions into one kiss, which he responded with a low moan in your mouth. So infatuated that you didn't stop and think what this would mean to you—if Joshua didn't reciprocate your feelings you'd be in a messy, ugly situation. All products of your own making.

This is, obviously, only possible if you let him know the way you really feel about him.

Oh well, you might as well make sure he doesn't know it yet.

✮ a/n: heyyoooo. thank you to everyone that interacted with part 1 and 2! tysm i really appreciate ya'll. i apologise if there's any dumb mistakes, i've tried to proofread this but i'm just so excited for you to read it

if you liked this part pls pls pls let me know i'd appreciate a like, a comment, rb it ◕⩊◕

part 4!!

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[classickook]

in the afterglow | defender strange

pairing: defender strange x fem!reader

summary: when the sanctum’s seals malfunction, coating your home in a blanket of white, stephen offers an unexpected remedy to heat you back up.

warnings: smut (18+), kissing, cockwarming, p in v sex, creampie, swearing, stephen is a bit of a soft!dom here

word count: 2.9k

a/n: there's basically no plot to this so enjoy the smut, besties! i’ll probably go back and edit later lol

your morning did not start off well.

apparently one of the seals to the rotunda of gateways had malfunctioned—how? you had no idea—and of course it had to be the very door that lead to siberia where a blistering storm of sharp ice crystals and blizzarding flakes charged their way into the sanctum and swept across every surface.

stephen had checked the series of doors as soon as he (literally) caught wind of the slip-up and recast the seals, ensuring they were done correctly, but it was too late. the sanctum was a winter wonderland in the middle of summer and there was no way to speed along the melting process as there was far too much snow and ice that coated the furniture, walls, and floorboards. 

stephen requested wong’s assistance to cast every spell known to the mystic arts in an attempt to return the sanctum back to normal, but it appeared there was only so much magic could do.

you would have to wait, the normal way, for the ice to melt. 

what was the point of magic if it couldn’t solve all of your problems?

after hours upon hours of useless attempts, stephen had finally relieved wong of his duties and encouraged him to return to kamar-taj until the sanctum’s seals were firmly restored and the ice had melted. as sorcerer supreme, stephen shouldered the responsibility of monitoring the sanctum in the meantime. he had offered the same option to you, suggesting that the warmth and comfort of kamar-taj would be far more pleasant than the frosty tundra of the sanctum, but you insisted on staying with him. 

stephen allowed you to stay, though he worried about you being too cold or possibly developing hypothermia the longer you were exposed to such icy temperatures. you had teased that you were lucky to be dating a doctor, but he didn’t seem to find the joke very amusing when it was at the expense of your health and safety.

he chose for the two of you to spend the remainder of the day in your shared bedroom, the sorcerer anxiously flitting about and making adjustments to ensure it would be as comfortable as possible, given the circumstances. 

a scarred hand waved over the fireplace until the wooden logs sparked to life, igniting a warm glow throughout the room that fought its way past the arctic environment. he also conjured up a bowl of steaming soup and mug of hot liquid that smelled faintly of hot chocolate for you in an effort to at least warm up your belly. you smiled at the gesture and at the way he fretted over your well-being. 

doctor stephen strange, master of the mystic arts, sorcerer supreme, and member of the defenders was a total sweetheart.

even after downing both the soup and hot chocolate, it still wasn’t enough to heat you up completely, the after effects only lasting so long. 

“still cold?” stephen asked from his armchair. he had positioned it in front of the fireplace along with the sofa you were currently lying on, but it wasn’t quite enough.

you nodded in answer to his question, noticeably shivering despite the oversized blanket draped over your shoulders. 

he pouted in thought before an idea popped into his head. “let me warm you up then,” he said with a conspiratorial grin as he stretched out his arms and beckoned you toward him. “come here, sweet girl.”

you tightened the blanket around your figure as you stood from the sofa and crept your way across the cold floorboards until you reached stephen’s chair. you shivered again as you waited for him to instruct you on what to do next. “well?” you asked, teeth chattering audibly.

“come here,” he repeated, spreading his legs to you and then patting his lap expectantly.

you arched a brow but did as he said, moving closer until you stood between his legs. you balanced your hands on his shoulders as you positioned your thighs on either side of him, easing down onto his lap while his scarred hands guided you with gentle touches against the backs of your thighs. his head tilted back to watch you, his cerulean eyes intense and unwavering. once you settled onto him, stephen then wrapped your blanket over the two of you, forming a sort of cocoon of warmth and safety around you as your body hunched into his.

he experimentally rocked his hips up into you and you released a shaky breath as you felt the hardening bulge between his thighs brush against your clothed slit.

“that’s my good girl,” he murmurmed. “do you trust me?” 

you nodded, the top of your head just barely visible from where you were nestled beneath the blanket. 

“good,” stephen said with an affectionate laugh as he began to untie the strings of your sweatpants, “i’ll warm you right up.”

“how are you going to do that?”

his lips twitched at the corners. “i might have an idea. lift your hips for me, baby.”

you did as he instructed, rising just enough for him to slide your sweatpants and panties down in one swift motion. your cunt clenched as the cold air nipped at your skin, feeling wholly exposed and even colder than before. “how is this going to warm me up?” you whined.

“patience,” he said before pushing down his own pants, his cock springing free from the confines of his underwear, until the two of you were bare at the waists. his hands spread your legs open as he pulled you onto him, a sharp hiss pushing past your clenched teeth at feeling his hardened cock nudging at your entrance. “trust me,” he coaxed gently. stephen then thumbed at your clit, his fingers surprisingly warm as he played with you, loosening your muscles against the frostiness of the air. “feel okay?”

you bit your lip and nodded silently, relaxing your abdominals as you felt him slide past your walls and stretch you open. the ministrations of his fingers against your clit must have done the trick because he easily slid inside you without any trouble or discomfort. he was always so fucking good with his fingers; he could turn you into a puddle of goo within seconds, it seemed.

“mmm,” you hummed as your eyes fluttered closed, basking in the warmth that started to unfurl in your lower belly. “feels really good, stephen.”

“good,” he said, obviously pleased from the way the skin beneath his eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at you. he gently grasped your chin between his thumb and index finger, beckoning you down to meet his awaiting lips. he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before pulling back with a frown. “your lips are freezing, baby.”

“warm them up then, doctor,” you said teasingly, referring back to his earlier statement.

he playfully nipped at your chin before slotting his mouth against yours, his lips surprisingly soft and warm despite the sanctum’s frigid temperatures. his tongue slipped past the seam of your lips and delved inside, licking into your mouth and eliciting a delicious heat to spread throughout your body. 

“how are you so warm?” you murmured against his mouth, tightening your grip on him and bringing your body as close to him as humanly possible. 

“i might have used a few spells to help,” he said with a mischievous grin. “anything i can do to warm you up.” he adjusted his hold on you, coaxing your limbs to wrap around him. “just think of me as your personal heater.”

you hummed as you tucked your hands beneath his shirt to soak up his body heat.

in turn, stephen’s hands crept beneath your sweater to make contact with the soft skin of your back, the rough calluses and scars scratching lightly, though not painfully, as he rubbed circles along your back in an effort to spread more warmth into your frigid form. you felt a twinge of heat radiating off of his palms, far warmer than what would be considered normal, especially given the circumstances, so you assumed he was using some sort of heating spell. maybe magic was good for something, after all.

your cunt stretched around him and you basked in the feeling of his cock filling you up, stuffing you completely until your walls quivered and squeezed him further inside, locking him into place. you had never been this intimate with him before. sure, the two of you have had sex numerous times, but this was something entirely different; instead of fucking each other to completion, you moved soft and slow, barely doing anything, actually.

stephen groaned as you subconsciously clenched around him. “you feel so fucking good, baby.”

“so do you.”

he breathed out a laugh, rubbing your hips and then pinching you there lightly.

you peered up at him from where you were tucked into his side, admiring the mole on the column of his throat and the sharp angle of his jaw on display thanks to his ponytail. you certainly liked the style, especially tugging on it playfully (or not so playfully), but you would always prefer his hair loose. decidedly, you reached up to release his ponytail, the salt and pepper hair you loved so much falling to his shoulders like glistening silk, and then secured the hair tie around your wrist. 

he chuckled at your antics, the sound of it shooting down your spine. “better?”

you nodded into the crook of his neck, smiling to yourself as his hair brushed against your cheek. 

you basked in the comfort that he offered you, feeling warm with him buried inside you and wrapped around you—up until he shifted his hips without warning, that is. you rolled your hips in retaliation, but moaned at the sensation, wanting to rock against him even further until all you could feel was him.

he tsked softly. “hold still, baby.” 

“stephen, i can’t—”

“yes, you can,” he cooed in your ear. “my baby can do anything, can’t she?” his teeth left blossoms of purple and pink along the underside of your jaw as he nipped and sucked at your skin. “my sweet girl,” he rasped. 

“please, stephen.”

“please what, baby? not warm enough yet?” 

you shook your head against his shoulder. 

“use your words,” he chided you. “what do you want, sweet girl?”

“want you to warm me up,” you mumbled. 

“and how would you like me to do that?”

you chewed at your bottom lip. “i want you to make me cum.” your cheeks flamed at being so openly vocal about what you wanted him to do to you. you weren’t used to it, but stephen would always want to hear you say it, nonetheless. 

“what was that?” he asked cheekily. you knew he heard you the first time, smug bastard. 

“make me cum, stephen.”

“good girl,” he said proudly, then lifted your hips off of him until he was almost completely out of you before guiding you back down, rolling his cock into your wet heat in lazy strokes. you moaned as he moved you to rock against his lap, doing all the work while repetitively pulling you up and down, his hips lifting to meet you, sinking further into your cunt each time.  

this wasn’t fucking, you realized in your blissed-out state; stephen was making love to you, taking time to worship your body, achingly slow and sweet. you couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face. 

“what is it?” stephen asked, speaking past the deep groan rising in his throat at feeling you so tight and warm around him. 

“nothing,” you breathed.

“tell me, baby.”

you bit your lip. “you’re making love to me,” you admitted sheepishly. 

stephen’s hips paused, his cock twitching inside of you. “i always make love to you.”

you shook your head. “this is different. i can’t explain it, but it feels different.”

“good different?” he asked with an almost nervous edge to his voice. 

you hummed in agreement. “a very good different,” you confirmed, leaning forward to press your lips against his. “i love you, stephen.”

you felt him smile into the kiss. “i love you, too, sweet girl,” he replied, and it tasted like honey on your tongue. 

your hips stuttered as if paying no mind to the heart-to-heart you were having with stephen. his grip on you tightened in response. “please make me cum, stephen,” you repeated against his lips. 

the corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk. “gladly.” he continued his ministrations, hands gripping your hipbones as he shifted his hips up into yours. 

your mouth opened in silent pleasure, loving every second of what he was doing to you, feeling your orgasm quickly approaching as he gradually sped up the pace. “stephen—”

“that’s it,” he cooed. “that’s a good girl. cum on my cock, baby. show me just how good i’m making you feel.”

a low moan bubbled its way up your throat at his words and the way he was moving inside you, his cock kissing your cervix as he breached the spongy tissue that always made you see stars. 

with one final stroke, a flash of white suddenly clouded your vision as heat rushed from the roots of your hair to the tips of your toes. “fuck, stephen,” you whined pathetically and tugged on his hair in an effort to ground yourself. 

your orgasm didn’t rip through you like a vicious current as it usually did when the two of you had sex, this time, it felt like the steady climb up a hill, creeping its way up to the top until it surpassed the peak and glided back down in sweet relief. 

stephen quickly followed right after, a deep groan pushing past his lips and the vibration of it rumbled against your chest as you felt your combined arousal leak out of your cunt from where he was stuffing you full, cum dripping from between your legs onto the chair beneath you. 

the sound of stuttered panting and the squelching of your joined bodies filled the otherwise silent room. “god, y/n,” he choked out, “you’re so fucking perfect. look at that,” he said, tipping your chin down to glance at where the two of you were connected and how his cum pooled between the cradle of your thighs. 

heat crept up your neck and into your cheeks at the obscenity of it, but your cunt clenched once your brain caught up and processed what you were looking at. 

obviously, stephen felt that. “fuck,” he hissed as you clenched around him again. his cock had already started to soften inside of you as the two of you settled in the afterglow of your orgasms, but you still felt so full of him, like he was touching every inch of you, and your body ached for him to move again; your brain, however, wasn’t quite up to it. 

your eyelashes fluttered against the tops of your cheeks as your vision grew foggy in your blissed-out state. “sorry,” you said sheepishly, ducking your head beneath his chin. 

he chuckled into your hair. “don’t apologize, baby. just give me a few minutes.”

you quietly giggled into the crook of his neck as you relaxed into him, releasing a sigh of contented relief. “i don’t think i can go again. ‘m too sleepy.” your eyes fluttered closed as drowsiness settled over you. 

“yeah? you tired?” the deep baritone of his voice brushed against the shell of your ear. 

you silently nodded, lovingly rubbing your cheek against the scruff of his beard. 

“ready to go to bed, then?”

your head shook back and forth this time. “don’t wanna leave you,” you mumbled as you lazily clung onto his neck with your remaining energy. you felt completely relaxed and drained, ready to be coaxed to sleep but not wanting to be separated from him. 

stephen chuckled before standing from his chair, arms tucked under your bare ass as he coaxed your legs to wrap around him, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs, his cock still buried deep inside you, eliciting a sleepy whine to escape your lips.

“it’s okay, i’ve got you.” he somehow managed to walk the two of you over to the bed, flicking his fingers in a quick motion that pulled the sheets and blankets down, the soft material looking so inviting to your spent form.

he sat on the edge of the bed with you still attached to his lap. you nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck and sighed sleepily. “i have to clean you up, baby,” he whispered in your ear.

you barely managed to hum in response, but he took it as a sign to continue. he gently pulled out of you, eliciting a hiss from you once the heat of him was gone, but he quickly replaced it with a warm cloth, wiping away the mess before tucking you beneath the covers. he snuggled up behind you and wrapped a strong arm around your waist, fingers lightly tracing along the sensitive skin of your belly and kissing your shoulder.

“warm enough now?” he asked softly.

you nodded, hair brushing across your pillow as sleep pulled you in, the snowy landscape of the sanctum long forgotten now that you were blissfully warmed by your coupling, the crackling fireplace, and the arms of your lover.

stephen strange taglist: @singhfae @ironstrange1991 @slvtforstr4nge @strangeobsessed @lucywrites02

let me know if you want to be added/removed from any of my taglists!

[hedonists-den]

House Pig (part 2)

“Oh piiiiiggyyy…”, I say in a soft, singsong voice as I enter our bedroom. You stir slightly in your sleep, such a cute layabout you are. You slept in a little more than you normally do, recovering from such a massive, late-night binge the previous night. But, as you have become accustomed, whenever I come in to get you up, it’s time for breakfast. You roll onto your back and slowly prop yourself up, eyes still half closed with a half-grin. You still felt so huge and bloated, but strangely hungry at the same time…you wonder if you were truly so addicted to filling your belly, or if you were actually hungry. But it’s just a fleeting thought, you knew as soon as you heard my voice, you were about to be overfed to my content. 

“Mmmh..good morning feeder…”, you say playfully, finally looking at me. I was looking over your full-figured, gorgeously-fat body with pure admiration, bordering on lust, and carrying four different-sized boxes from your favorite pizza place and a 2-liter. Just then, the delicious smell filled the room and you took it in. As if you weren’t already a little hungry, that smell seemed to pull your appetite from its slumber just as I had pulled you from your own sleep. You sit up straight, your pudgy belly rolling onto your soft thighs as a soft growl rumbles from your stomach.

“Mmm, good. It sounds like my greedy hedonist is already hungry. And after such a good feeding last night…”, I say with a grin, stepping up to the bed and setting the warm boxes in front of you. I climb onto the bed and sidle up beside you, placing a hand on the side of your cheek and leaning in to kiss you deeply on the lips. You feel my index finger and thumb slowly trail down to begin gently caressing your double chin. It looked so good on you, your chubbing-up face; it was adorable. “You really seem to be adjusting to this lifestyle well, don’t you?”, I say, half-teasing while keeping my hand on your double chin. 

“Only because you won't stop spoiling me!”, you respond with a soft chuckle. It was true, you had fully leaned into the sedentary lifestyle you were now allowed to have after quitting your job. You really had no responsibilities anymore, no worries, no stress, just mindless indulgence and care-free living. Although, it was certainly having an effect on your waistline…just a few months of living like this and you were completely unable to fit into any of your jeans. You even tried on some of your work pants the other day just to see, and couldn’t even get them buttoned. What would your old coworkers say if they knew you were letting yourself become my personal blimp?

“Ohh, come on now, are you going to put all of the responsibility for THIS on ME?”, I say, reaching down to grip your belly roll. It was so soft, my fingers curling under that sensitive under-belly. Such a simple act, yet it causes you to gasp and moan softly. My fingertips rest right on some of your stretch marks under there, both of us able to feel those lovely signs of your recent gluttony. “Well, if you’re going to blame me for all this wobbling fat, I might as well make sure to take every bit of that blame, shouldn’t I?”, I say as I open up the top box, revealing a full order of cheesy breadsticks. It smells so good, so savory, you’re ready to gorge yourself. You’re ready to get so stuffed that you can barely move. 

I take a couple breadsticks from the box and stack them on top of one another, placing one hand behind your back to grab one of your back rolls. “Now open up, my greedy piggy. You have a lot of eating to do…”, I say while bringing the cheesy bread to your lips. And of course you’re going to obey, aren’t you? You part your lips and open wide, placing your hands on your belly and jiggling it. You know how to get to me, there’s never any doubt about that. Seeing you so eager to begin filling your belly drives me wild, and you know that. You know that the more you entice and tease me, the more full you’ll end up when I’m simply too overtaken by lust to stop stuffing your face. I watch you shake your empty, chubby gut for a moment before I push the calorie-rich bites into your mouth, one by one, until the whole box is empty. That had to be a record…you were so insanely gluttonous and I was so relentless in feeding them to you, it was impressive. A little more marinara left, I place the cup at your greasy lips and pour the rest of it down your throat before tossing the empty box to the side. 

“Mmm…so hungry this afternoon, aren’t you? Wow…”, I tease, patting your dense belly and admiring you. Just one course in, crumbs and a little sauce on your face and down your torso, we were just getting started. I open up the 2-liter and offer it to you, letting you take it and drink to your content. A few gulps later, and a cute belch to punctuate the first course, I open up the next box, and position myself behind you. The next box sitting warm on your lap, you knew just what it was: your favorite pasta bowl. I run my hands up your sides, sitting behind you, your wide hips pushing my legs apart. “Go on…dig in, baby.”, I whisper into your ear as I grope and caress every soft roll on your body. 

You have hardly any time to moan before pulling the bowl right up to your face and begin to shovel the pasta into your greedy mouth. You might as well be oinking, the way your face is buried in this trough of a bowl. One would think you hadn’t eaten for days, the way you stuffed your face. “God, just look at you…no wonder you’ve gotten so gorgeously plump…”, I say in your ear, kissing the side of your neck while grabbing your love handles. My hands explore your body, feeling every softened part of you that just keeps growing. Your thighs, your burgeoning gut, so many rolls developed recently, it’s ridiculous. Even the fat pad right below your belly was taking over the area where belly and thighs meet. 

It was becoming shockingly clear how ravenous your appetite had become, polishing off the pasta bowl before either of us knew it. And just in true-glutton fashion, you dip your fingers into the bowl and lick them off, not letting the tiniest bit of food remain. “You’ve MADE me so greedy…so plump…I just can’t stop myself anymore. I’m addicted and it’s all your fault…”, you say after letting out a labored exhale from finishing your second course. Right for the 2-liter you go, sucking down all the sugary, empty calories that stretch your stomach. They say drinking your calories really packs on the weight quickly, let alone when you’re drinking your calories AND eating excessively.

I reach around and pat your slightly-bulging stomach, feeling that it’s getting a little tight. I chuckle softly, knowing that we have a whole pizza to still get stuffed in there. “You aren’t getting full yet, are you? I know your appetite is bigger than that.”, I say as I rub small circles over the surface of your belly. 

“No, I’m still so hungry…feed me more…”, you say, grabbing the pizza box yourself and leaning back against my chest. I take the box and put it to the side before grabbing a couple pieces of the greasy pizza and stacking them just like the breadsticks. From behind, I start to feed you while I jiggle your cellulite-covered thigh. 

“Look at all this. So much wobbling fat you’ve piled on, everywhere on your body. Your hip bones are so deep under there…”, I practically moan as I tuck my hand under your belly roll and gently squeeze where your hip bone would show, if it weren’t so buried in fat. “What’s going to happen when you get too fat for me to reach around you from here, huh? Just imagine how massive I will have made you by then…”, I say, taking two more pieces of pizza to stuff in your mouth. “You’re already my docile, addicted, fat pig. At this point it’s only a matter of time before you can only waddle around, jiggling from the bottom up. You want that though, don’t you? I can tell you do…”

You begin panting slightly, the arousal getting to you just as much as the fullness, and you’re only able to utter a submissive “Fuck…I do…”. You had already consumed thousands of calories, with more to go. You know that every bite forced into your body will only make it bigger, softer, and heavier. As sedentary as you had become, there was no chance of any of these calories to be burned off, other than the bare minimum it takes to keep yourself functioning. Every single day you give in to me, you sink deeper and deeper into obesity, deeper and deeper into the lifestyle of a kept and fattened pet. And it was making you so embarrassingly horny right now, with my hands on you, feeding you and teasing you.

“You’re so good when you give in. There’s no reason not to, is there? You know this hot for both of us, you know how good you look when you’re so spoiled and enabled, so big and pampered for me…”, I say, slowly sliding my hand below your belly, between your thighs, encouraging you even more. You inhale deeply, feeling me tease you in this way, just to drive you into such a pleasure-filled state. Your mind had become so conditioned to associate eating and a full belly with ultimate pleasure and satisfaction, it’s no wonder you had become so wide and heavy. It was arousing enough to be such a glutton on your own, but now, with me enabling you so hard, it was orgasmic. 

“You’ve enabled me so much, I basically- Nnh…have no choice but to grow…I need it- Mmph..”, you moan before I push another bite into your mouth to finish your sentence. You swallow it down quickly, one would think you hadn’t eaten through two boxes already. “God, you really want me waddling…you really want me- Mmmm…so fucking huge…”, you moan. 

“Mmm, you know I do…I just can’t stop feeding you, you’re right. I’m addicted to how your body looks when it’s so overfed, so spoiled. I need more just as much as you do…”, I whisper before feeding you the last two pieces of your extra large pizza. Another box gone, I toss it to the side and slide my hand over your engorged stomach. I can feel how full you are. It’s dense and rounded out, but as I pat it gently, your lower belly still wobbles. Even stuffed nearly to the brim, your body was fattened up enough to jiggle. “So good…”, I say with an air of reverence while running my hand over your belly, over your rolls while my other hand continues to urge you deeper into this scene of pure hedonism. “You’ve done such a good job, baby…only a little more and you can cum for me.”

You let out a soft groan, feeling pretty full at this point, and so bloated with all the greasy calories and sugary soda filling your gut. But there was one last box, one last delicious hurdle to finish before you could have your reward, and you had a feeling of just what the last box held for you. You lazily open it, finding exactly what you expected, and honestly, were excited for: a big cookie pizza. We both knew you had an immense sweet tooth, and I was all too keen on satiating it. 

You lean forward a little to fully take the box, groaning and straining to do 1/8th of a sit up. Once you have it, you let all your weight fall back into me with a grunt before you start pushing the sweet, dense pieces of cookie into your mouth. You could almost feel your clothes tightening by the second, with every bite…pants were getting snug within weeks of buying them. Shirts strained to hold in your doughy gut, love handles, and back rolls. You were growing exponentially, and you couldn't stop…you wanted to stuff your belly, you wanted to feel the euphoria of being blissfully full, you wanted to cum from being so good and gluttonous for me.

Your mind races and your body tingles with pleasure as I continue to stimulate you through your impressive binge. Your stomach was so tight now. You were panting, whimpering, moaning as you got the last couple pieces of cookie down. You push down the last bite and lick your fingers, revelling in what a hog you had been, and in a daze from how full you were. "All…*huff* *huff*…all done…fuck, I'm such a glutton for you…I need to cum, baby. I was so good…", you groan, struggling to keep your eyes open from the overfed state you were in.

"You were so good…you ate every single bite. Such a good piggy for me, you certainly deserve to be rewarded," I say, gently rubbing your swollen gut. You were remarkable, honestly. All 4 boxes, all 4 courses, stuffed into your greedy belly. "I knew you were my little glutton, but fuck…you really lost yourself in this feast, didn't you? You were fully indulgent. Just the way I want you to be…", I say as I grab your flabby belly roll and shake it just gently enough. 

You lay your head back and take it all in. The fullness, my words, the knowledge that you had been ballooning and would continue to do so, and that I was enabling you so hard, it was enough to push you right to the edge. You moan, arching your back ever so slightly into me, and I can feel your thighs shaking and jiggling. I chuckled softly, knowing my horny little pig was close. 

"Go on, piggy…I want to feel you cum for me. I want to feel how pleased you are with yourself for being such a gluttonous hog…", I whisper in your ear, only to be immediately followed with the shaking of your whole body, your legs quivering, and your voice trembling in an ecstasy-filled moan. Your orgasm makes the bed creak, so much weight shaking and moving, I can practically feel you blushing as I rest my hand on the side of your stretch-marks-covered side and hold your underbelly with the other. "That's it…that's my good fatty…", I say before kissing your chubby neck.

Your heavy breathing calms down as your orgasm subsides. You rest the back of your head on my shoulder, relaxed and letting your belly digest the obscene amount of food packed inside it. "You…you're going to make me unrecognizably huge…aren't you..?", you ask, with a slightly excited tone. 

I smile and lovingly caress your thigh. "Your friends and family will be shocked to see you if we keep this up. Imagine the concern, when they realize just how much you've let me pork you up…", I say. In truth, it may have already gotten to that point, seeing the amount of fat you had gained recently. But both you and I knew: there was much more to come. You were my prize, trophy piggy. And I was going to make sure you lived the most hedonistic, self-indulgent life you could possibly have.

[watchmegetobsessed]

PARTNERS IN CRIME

A/N: oof i can't believe im posting this fic! it's been in the making for literally the longest so its a relief that im finally done with it haha! it stretched longer than i planned but oh well!

special thanks to @fallinallincurls for helping me out in the field of ice hockey since i knwo absolutely nothing about sports and i bothered her all the time with questions so thank you for your patience Bre!

PAIRING: prince-hair!hockey-player!Harry X Reader

WARNINGS: a little bit of blood, bullying

WORD COUNT: 20.1k

masterlist

Why on Earth did you have to get a roommate who doesn’t know how to take no as an answer? You swear to all gods above, Zoe has never had to deal with rejection and not because she’s always been the best but because she just refused to take it and pushed all boundaries until she got what she wanted. Tonight it’s her mission to get you to turn your no into yes.

“Come on! You never go to parties, how are you gonna get your full college experience?” she sighs, flopping down to your bed next to you, where you’re curled up with yet another crime book, an obsession that might be a bit too much in some people’s opinion, but you like to call it a passion of yours. Your brother would beg to differ, but you don’t let that ruin something you like. After all, it is what got you figure out what you want to do in life.

“Who said I want the full college experience? I am in college so therefore I’m having an experience,” you retort, laying your book to your chest just in time to see Zoe roll her almond shaped eyes before she narrows them at you. Even pretending to be hurt and mad at you, she is still one of the most stunning girls you’ve ever met in your life.

When the two of you became roommates last year as freshmen, you were afraid she’d the type you tried to avoid at all cost in high school. The popular, everyone’s favorite girl who only cares about herself. Well, the first part is kind of true, Zoe is the kind of girl who gets most people’s attention walking across the campus, but she is definitely not the selfish monster you thought her to be, but a caring and lively bubble of endless energy who tried her best to bring you out of your shell through your first year. It was partially successful, you went to about two parties all year which was already more than what you were planning on, but she also introduced you to a lot of people and helped you find your own little circle. The two of you had a few classes together last year, but this year you both finally chose your majors which resulted in a schedule that didn’t cross anywhere, Zoe chose International Studies while you started Criminal and Social Justice, something you’ve been highly excited about all summer.

Even though you were lucky enough to stay together after moving into another residence hall this year, Zoe now feels like it’s her special task to get you out of the room and your own little room even more since she can’t see you for most of the day usually, but you’re not sure how you feel about that mission of hers.

“It’s gonna be fun! We are not freshmen anymore, we’ll be like the cool kids finally!” she tries again, but you’re not giving in.

“Z, you are already a cool kid and I’m not trying to be one. I don’t see the use of it for me.”

“Okay,” she huffs raising her eyebrows at you. “I didn’t mean to tell you, but this is my last chance of changing your mind. There is an ulterior reason why I want to be there.”

“I’m listening,” you mumble, narrowing your eyes at her in suspicion.

“So, at the end of last year, remember when I went to the party with Callie and Mike?”

“Distantly, but yes.”

“Well, I kinda hooked up with…” She looks away, a soft blush painting her face and now you’re dying to know who got her this nervous.

“Just spit it out!”

“I hooked up with Niall Horan!”

Your eyes widen and your mouth opens before you close it, not knowing what to say. Niall Horan is the captain of Boston College’s men’s hockey team the Eagles, notorious womanizer and in your opinion, a straight up asshole.

Well, if you’re being honest every sport obsessed jock is an asshole for you and though judging a book by its cover is not a nice thing to do, you just can’t help it, not after what happened to you in high school.

Zoe knows your opinion about guys on any of the school’s sport teams, probably that’s why she never told you about Niall, she guessed right that you’d have quite a few issues with her little adventure. But you can’t be mad at her for doing something you would never, it’s her life and her choices, however you’re still not sure what it has got to do with tonight.

“Okay, so that’s one more reason to stay away from tonight’s party,” you tell her, but she sighs.

“We kinda kept in touch through the summer, which was a miracle since he went home to his family in Ireland, but we texted a lot and he even FaceTimed me two times! I was hoping tonight would bring a little more and we could… I don’t know, make it official.”

You can tell how nervous she is about this guy and that she wants it to end well. Zoe broke up with her longtime high school boyfriend after graduation and she hasn’t really found anyone who interested her that much, but it seems like the hockey team’s captain was the person she’s been waiting for all along. You wish it was some nice guy from the robotics club or something. You have quite a few doubts about this Niall guy.

“But why do I need for that?” you ask the most important question. It’s one thing that you’re not a fan of Zoe getting together with a hockey player, but what role do you have in all of it?

“I need you to be there and not let me go crazy!” she sighs desperately. “I really like him and I really don’t want to make a fool out of myself. I need you to be my rational side.”

“You’re a smart girl, Zoe. You don’t need me to babysit you.”

“But I do! Please, I’ll do all your laundry for the rest of the semester, just please come with me!” She is begging as if her life depended on your attendance. It’s really not your cup of tea, but when you look at your desperate friend, you realize you won’t be able to say no.

So a few hours later you are walking up the stairs to some frat house, the music is blasting inside and people are lingering outside, you can only imagine how crowded it is on the other side of the door.

Zoe keeps a firm hold on your hand as she pulls you after her, finding a group of people you both know pretty soon. You all attended Sociology first semester, so you greet each other like old buddies.

Zoe fetches the two of you each a drink and while you stand in a small circle, trying to talk over the music and the noise, you notice how she isn’t even paying attention, only looking around cautiously, probably searching for a particular Irish hockey player.

“Don’t look so desperate,” you hiss at her, which causes her to look down at her feet with a soft blush on her cheeks. For a moment you feel bad for being so harsh on her. It’s not like she can choose who she likes and if it happens to be a hockey player, you can’t give her a hard time for it. You can only hope she won’t end up like you once did.

After finishing your first drink you offer to grab the second and Zoe agrees, saying that she needs the liquid courage for when Niall arrives. You push your way into the kitchen and mix the both of you a vodka orange, the same thing Zoe made you earlier and head back to your little bunch. Slaloming between the people on your own you don’t get stopped for a few words or to take shots, you barely know anyone and it’s honestly fine by you. You never really enjoyed attention that much, it brought you way too much anxiety. Zoe is the opposite, she gets noticed all the time and whenever you are with her you always get stopped, people seek her presence and you don’t blame them, she is amazing. You could easily be jealous of her, but you decided to put your energy into positive things so you’re more happy than mad about her success.

Handing Zoe her drink you zone out for a bit and your attention is grabbed by Zoe when her hand smacks your arm. You cautiously look around as she sucks her breath in and that’s when you see the guys she’s been waiting for all night walk in.

Niall is the first one, loud and vibrant, saying hi to basically everyone that gets in his way as he walks into the house. Then comes Louis, he is a senior this year and he seems a lot calmer and less all over the place than Niall, though you’ve heard a thing or two about him as well. Then a few more guys who are also definitely on the team, because they have the same jacket as the first two, and last in the line comes Harry Styles.

You don’t know much about him, just that he is a promising defense player, as a freshman last year he was on the ice from the beginning of their very first game in the season, which is a big deal. Coach Brahms is known to make the new players work for their spot on the ice, but Harry Styles broke that habit of his. Now he is a sophomore and everyone is talking about how he is going to be the backbone of the team this season. You know all of this because your brother is a big fan, in fact, he used to play on the school’s team. He has graduated two years ago but he still likes to watch their games and be up-to-date with the news. You remember him telling you about Harry last year, how satisfied he was with his game.

“I wish I could’ve played with him!” he sighed longingly, but you couldn’t understand his enthusiasm.

From the outside Harry didn’t seem too friendly. You barely saw him talk to anyone outside of his teammates, sometimes he has this pretty intimidating look on his face as if he was silently judging everyone around him and he already had a bad point at you by being a hockey player. You just know he isn’t someone you should be around.

“Okay, how do I look?” Zoe pulls you back from your thoughts as she turns to face you for reassurance about her look.

“Great, but don’t talk his ears off, okay?” you tell her, fixing a strand of hair before giving her a thumbs up.

“You need to come with me,” she demands, gripping your wrist tight.

“You don’t need me there,” you shake your head in protest.

“But I do, come on!”

Zoe yanks you after her, not even caring that you said no. Typical, as always. The guys are headed into the kitchen so of course, the two of you are following. You really don’t want to be here right now, but Zoe wouldn’t let go of you, chaining you to herself.

Niall is opening up a can of beer for himself when he spots Zoe and his face lights up at the sight of her. You have to give it to them, it’s kind of cute, but that doesn’t change much about your opinion.

“Zoe! Hi!” he greets your friend happily and she finally lets go of you, just so she can return the hug he envelopes her into.

“Hey, it’s good to see you! How are you?” The two of them get into a little chit-chat while you’re standing near, then Zoe turns to you and pulls you closer, into their little circle. “This is my roommate, Y/N. Y/N, this is Niall.”

“Hi,” you smile at him shortly, not willing to hold up a conversation with him.

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you. Z told me a lot about you.”

Oh, so at least he remembers what they talk about. That’s a somewhat good start. He still has a long way to go.

After some usual schmoozing Niall leans closer to Zoe’s ear and you see her eyes lighting up before she turns to you and you already know what’s about to come.

“Hey, is it okay if I have a few words with Niall outside? Or do you want me to stay with you?”

The last question is not rhetorical, you know Zoe would blow Niall off and stick to you if you asked, but you’re not trying to ruin her chances even though you really don’t want to be left alone at a party.

“Sure, I’ll be fine,” you assure her.

“Are you sure?”

“Zoe, just go, okay? I’ll go back to Francesca and the others,” you nod your head towards the people you stood when you first arrived.

“Alright, I’ll come and find you when we are done. Text me if something happens!” she tells you, giving you a quick hug before you watch her walk away, Niall right behind her, keeping a hand on her waist casually.

Chewing on your bottom lip you sigh as you’re left alone and when you look around you don’t see Francesca or any other people you know either. Left alone in a party you didn’t even want to attend now you have to linger around while Zoe possibly gets together a hockey player, the kind you want to avoid from the furthest possible… what a great night!

Finishing your drink you quickly refill your cup and then go on a mission to find a bathroom in this packed frat house. Making your way upstairs you easily spot the room you’re looking for, two girls already waiting in line, so you just quietly join them. They sound pretty plastered, talking about some guys that invited them over to their place and you push down a grimace at how easily they are saying yes to men they literally just met. The two girls go inside together once the bathroom empties, so you wait alone now and when the stumble out a few minutes later you gladly lock yourself inside, having a breather from all the impulses waiting for you outside.

After finishing your business you sprinkle some cold water into your face, the heat in the house is rising with each arriving guest and you really hate sweating your ass off, but you don’t have much of a choice. Maybe you can look around outside, someone you know might pop up so you wouldn’t have to walk around alone. You grab your cup from the sink where you placed upon arriving and with a deep sigh you reach for the doorknob and open it. As you’re about to step out, you straight up mash against someone, a hard chest meeting with you, your drink spilling all over your black top and for a moment you sing hallelujah for changing from that white shirt you originally wanted to wear.

“Holy shit, I’m sorry!” A deep voice with a British accent speaks up as you look down at your soaked shirt. Letting out a sigh you clench your jaw before glancing up and seeing none other than Harry Styles, staring down at your chest.

“Great, thanks,” you mumble, turning back into the bathroom to dry yourself off a bit, though you know the orange juice will leave it sticky either way. You expect him to just disappear, not wanting to deal with the casualties of his actions, but Harry lingers in the bathroom door, not sure what to do or say. Glancing at him you arch an eyebrow at him questioningly. “What? Staring doesn’t help the situation,” you snap at him, your dislike coming off maybe a bit too harsh, but you’ve had enough for tonight.

“How can I help?” he asks, taking a tiny step closer, but still keeping his distance. “You want me to get you another shirt? I know some of the guys here, I could—“

“No need for that. Just go back to the party and ruin someone else’s night instead of mine.”

You’re not this bitter. This isn’t your trait, but you were dragged here against your will, Zoe left you alone and now your shirt smells like vodka orange. There’s a reason why you don’t like parties and it’s because somehow they always end up horrendous on your part.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t see you coming…”

“Surely,” you grumble, peeking at him once again. He stands tall above you, wearing a plain white shirt that has a few dots of your drink on it as well but he doesn’t seem bothered. His black skinny jeans are tighter than anything you own, paired with some trainers, his chocolate curls are messily bouncing around his face. He is definitely growing them out, they’ve gotten a lot longer during the summer compared to the hairstyle he sported last year from what you remember seeing him on campus here and there.

You’d be lying if you said he wasn’t handsome with his dreamy green eyes and pink lips, you can totally see why girls were into him, though out of the whole hockey team, you’ve heard the least about his dating life from people. Absolutely nothing, to be precise.

Throwing the towel to the side that you used to soak up some of the liquid from your chest you just grab your now almost fully empty cup and head out, but Harry stops you.

“Wait, I really am sorry. Is there anything I can do to make up for it?”

“No thanks. Save your pretty boy attitude to the ladies downstairs, I’m not interested,” you simply reply and then walk away before he could stop you for a second time.

“Where have you been?!” Zoe snaps when the two of you finally run into each other a little later. You’ve spent some time with a girl you know from philosophy class last year and you headed outside for some fresh air when you finally found your roommate.

“Where have I been? I’ve been around all along. What’s up with you?” you ask and the moment you see her blushing and smiling you know things went well with Niall.

“We are officially dating. We’re not a couple but he specifically said that he is not gonna go out with someone else while we are figuring things out.”

“Oh, that sounds good!” you say and actually mean it. At least he is not trying to get Zoe into a bigamous mess where he fucks every other women at the same time.

“Yes! I’m so happy, I feel like this can actually work.” Her eyes move down to your chest and though it’s not soaking wet anymore, the stain is still kind of visible. “What happened to you?”

“Just… bumped into someone and spilled my drink. No big deal.”

“Alrighty,” she shrugs. “Come on, let’s find some friends!” she beams and linking her arm with yours she quickly pulls you after her.

Unlike you, it doesn’t take Zoe long to find people she knows. The two of you are in the corner of the living room with a few girls Zoe has classes with this semester, talking about summer and what this school year has for everyone. Now that Zoe is back your anxiety eases a bit, not having to linger around alone has its perks obviously.

Moving to the kitchen to get your next and probably last drink you mentally groan when you spot Niall and his teammates, unlike Zoe who immediately brightens up seeing her man, if you can say that. On top of all that, Harry is with them as well, standing leant against the edge of the countertop, a red cup on his right hand as he mostly just observes the conversations happening around him.

“Hey there! How are you ladies enjoying the party?” Niall grins and curls an arm around Zoe’s shoulders, earning her quite a few jealous glares from girls around who are probably crushing hard on the player.

“It’s great!” Zoe beams and you decide to leave it at that.

Niall’s eyes fall on you and then at Harry who is weirdly eyeing you before looking away which already makes you want to leave this conversation already, but then you see Niall lean closer and saying something to him to which Harry just growls and bumps his shoulder against his. The way Niall peeks at you after that lets you know that it had something to do with you and that makes your blood boiling.

Your hatred towards athletes, especially football or hockey players always gets proven to be valid. They are called players for a reason but in your opinion it has nothing to do with sports. All your life men like Niall and Harry made you miserable for absolutely no reason because they think that the world is lying in front of their feet just because they are considered good in a sport. When you were younger you gave them all the benefit of the doubt, but one asshole of a player turned it all around and rid you of all your trust in anyone who is just the slightest bit like him.

Not quite up to be talked about while you’re very much present, you decide tonight must come to an end for you. Leaning closer to Zoe you try to speak so only she can hear it.

“I’m gonna head home, but stay if you want.”

“What?” she gasps with sad eyes. “No, stay a little longer!”

“I’m tired. Just wanna go back to the dorm,” you shrug, hoping this is going to be one of the rare occasions she takes no as an answer.

“Are you alright? Do you want me to wait for a taxi with you?” she offers and it’s sweet that she is still concerned about you when she could just easily ditch you. You can’t blame her for you not enjoying the party, she tried her best to contribute to you having a good time.

“No, it’s alright.”

“Do you need a ride?” Niall chimes in, putting together the pieces about what you two are talking about. “Harry could drive you home,” he offers with a smirk, nodding towards his friend whose head immediately snaps up at the mentioning of his name, his eyes meeting your frown.

“No thanks, I’m fine,” you simply turn it down. “I’ll see you back at the dorm,” you tell Zoe before walking away, leaving the awkward situation behind you.

From what you saw, it’s been entirely clear that Harry Styles is no different from the athletes you’re trying to stay away from. It’s a good thing your circles don’t meet too often, especially since this was the first and probably last party of the semester you attended.

🏒🏒🏒

It sounds nerdy, but you’ve been excited to start this new semester, all because you finally chose your major. You ended up with Criminal and Social Justice after a long and deliberate process of deciding what you’d like to study and you can proudly say that you’re satisfied with your choice. What got you the most excited is your criminology class you were able to take, held by Professor Rutherford, one of the best professors at Boston College from what you’ve heard.

After a light Monday, when you only had two classes, nothing extravagant, you wake up buzzing on Tuesday, knowing that you can finally dive into the depths of criminology, something that always amazed and interested you.

Zoe is barely up when you leave, but she is already texting from under her fluffy blankets, the two of you agree to get something for dinner together on your way back to Roncalli residence hall, your dorm, since you both finish around the same time, and with that you’re out the door. Making a small trip to the café near the dorm, you head to your class with a steaming black coffee and endless excitement about today’s class.

There are still about ten minutes until nine when you arrive, but the room is almost entirely filled. Walking up next to the rows, you spot that somewhere in the middle, there are two empty seats at the end of one of the rows, so you decide to take that. Sitting into one of them and then putting your bag to the other as you dig up your notebook and pen along with your phone.

You shoot a quick text to Zoe to check if she didn’t fall back asleep, but she replies right away with a mirror selfie as she is washing her teeth in one of the communal bathrooms on your floor. Then you’re just aimlessly scrolling through Instagram and the rest of the minutes pass by quick.

Professor Rutherford arrives and walks up to the podium, the room right away quiets down even though he hasn’t even started talking. You assume everyone else is just as excited for this class as you are. He grabs a stack of paper from his oldschool briefcase and puts his glasses on, making him look like a cute grandpa, but you know more about him than to underestimate him. Marlon Rutherford was the best criminal detective at the Boston Police for almost three decades before he started teaching, first only at the academy, but then he was somehow lured to Boston College and he has been teaching Criminology and Criminal Psychology for about ten years now. He was good at what he was doing and he is now happy to pass on everything he knows to the next generations.

Before Professor Rutherford could start, the door opens and two more students arrive, but you’re not paying much attention as you’re scribbling the date onto the first page of your notebook. But when a figure stops right beside you, your attention is forced away from in front of you.

Standing there a little hunched is none other than Harry Styles, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Can I please… take this seat?” he whispers, pointing to the seat where your bag is and as you glance around you see that there are no other seats left anywhere near, only in the middle of the row and he obviously doesn’t want to crawl in there.

“Sure,” you mumble, grabbing your bag and dropping it under your seat, turning back to your notebook just as the professor starts speaking.

Harry’s sudden arrival pushes you out of your comfort in a second, making you very aware that he is sitting right beside you. He is not staring, not trying to talk to you, just sits there with an old, beaten up notebook and pen, listening to what the professor is saying, doing what you should do, but you’re too busy with the hockey player by your side.

Forcing yourself to look forward and focus on what’s important, you manage to shut his presence out for a whole… five minutes, probably. Then you see him peeking at you at for some dumb and irritating reason your cheeks heat up just by his look.

“Hey, I’m sorry for what happened at the party,” he then whispers over to you, leaning just a tad bit closer and it turns you into stone when his bicep presses against your forearm for a few seconds.

“S’okay,” you mumble, keeping your gaze down, but you just know he is still looking at you, while playing with his pen between his fingers. What was Professor Rutherford just saying?!

“I-it was my fault.”

“Sure it was.” It slips out before you could even stop yourself, but it instantly heats up your neck and ears. As you peek to the side you see a small smile on Harry’s lips before you glue your eyes to the professor at the front of the room.

Harry is just about to speak up again, but then the professor claps and it makes you both jump a little, actually paying attention to what he is saying.

“And so what you can expect for the rest of the semester! We are gonna make it an extremely exciting one! We are gonna be working in pairs and every pair will have to study a famous case of a crime that’ll be assigned to them. We’ll learn about the most important factors in cases and you’ll have to work along those lines, analyzing what went down during the investigations. The outcome will be a five thousand words long co-written essay!”

The students start rumbling, already looking for their pairs and your stomach drops to the floor, since you don’t know anyone in this class, so how are you going to find a partner?

“Before any of you gets too excited, you don’t get to decide who your partner is,” Professor Rutherford announces and the talking just increases in the room. “Silence, please!” Slowly, the noises die down and everyone turns back to the professor who is patiently waiting. “Every second person from this side of the room…” he started, pointing at the side where you were also sitting, so that meant you would be a second person. “Look to your right!”

Your eyes instantly snap over to Harry and your lips part as you realize where this is about to head. Harry looks back at you and then down to the professor who then speaks up again with a small smile under his growing mustache.

“Please, say hello to your partner!”

Harry Styles is going to be your partner for your criminology class for the rest of the semester. Months of working is ahead of the two of you and just the thought makes your stomach jump up and down. Seemingly Harry is just as shocked and surprised as you are and what’s that you see in his green irises? Nervousness? Anxiety? Whatever it is, he seems to swallow it down before he looks at you with an unsure smile.

“Well, I guess we are now partners in crime.”

🏒🏒🏒

Coach Simmons blows his whistle, stopping the ongoing game the boys have been playing for the past twenty minutes. They all stop what they are doing, sliding over to the man at the edge of the ice, breathing heavily under their protective gear. Helmets are coming off as the team waits for the coach to say something. In their skates, they are all taller and definitely stronger than the man in his fifties who is standing in his sneakers on the ice, yet they still respect him as if he could beat them all up with just one hand.

“It wasn’t as bad as I expected for the first time after summer, but you all need to get your shit together. Stop thinking too much about yourself and watch out for your team mates. This is a team game, alright?”

The boys all nod as Coach Simmons gives some personal feedback to some of them.

“And Styles?” Harry’s head snaps up, chewing on his bottom lip as he waits for the man to continue. “Wake the fuck up, you were like a zombie.”

“Sorry, coach,” he mumbles back, kicking some crushed ice with his skate.

“Okay, I’ll see you soon. Don’t do anything stupid,” Simmons dismisses the team and they all leave the ice, heading into the changing room.

“Simmons was right, what’s up with you?” Niall waits for Harry who is almost the last one to leave the ice and the two of them walk back side by side.

“Nothing, I just need to get back to the groove, that’s all.”

“Bullshit. You said you’ve been dying to get back on the ice and now you seemed like you weren’t even here in your head.”

Harry doesn’t answer, just shrugs his shoulders as they enter the changing room, getting rid of their skates right away, but Niall doesn’t leave it at that.

“As your captain, I need to know what’s on that pretty curly head of yours, big boy!” He teases him and though Harry smiles shortly, it disappears fast and it tells a lot to his friend. “Something happened?”

“It’s just… You know that girl from the party?” he starts with a sigh after getting rid of his underclothes, now only standing in his pants. Niall starts undressing too, just like the rest of the team, but they pay no attention to their conversation.

“There were a lot of girls, Harry. You have to be more specific,” Niall snorts.

“The one I accidentally bumped into and her drink spilled to her shirt,” he answers, blushing even at the thought of the incident.

“Oh! Zoe’s roommate, right?”

“Y-yeah.”

“What about her? Wait, did you ask her out? Did you finally grow a pair and went after a girl?” Niall gasps dramatically before he starts laughing, but Harry just rolls his eyes.

“We are paired for the semester for our criminology class,” he answers instead, leaving Niall’s teasing unnoticed.

“That’s great, right? You’re gonna have to spend time together to work on stuff, yeah?”

“Apparently, but she didn’t seem thrilled to be paired with me,” he growls under his breath. They both have gotten rid of their clothes so now they head to the showers. In a row, there are a total of five showers, offering not much of covering once someone is inside, but they have gotten used to seeing each other the way they entered this world.

Harry still remembers when he switched teams in high school and at the new place, they had a shower similar to the one at college and he wasn’t used to baring it all, his previous place offered showers with floor to ceiling curtains. It took him a good six months to get himself over the fact that he was gonna be seeing his team mates without clothes quite often. Now he doesn’t even think about it as he steps under the warm water, carrying the conversation on with Niall as they stand next to each other, basically fully seeing each other’s business.

“Do you want me to ask Zoe why she hates you?” Niall offers and Harry grimaces at his words.

“You think she hates me? We barely even know each other.”

“Dunno, but you did spill her drink on her at a party. Maybe she took is harder than you thought.”

“I literally apologized like ten times already. Even did so in class, but she didn’t seem to be fazed at all,” Harry muses, thinking back at his exchange of words with you from earlier.

“Okay, then maybe you did something against her before that and you just don’t know about it. Girls remember the craziest stuff,” Niall chuckles as if he was such an expert in women.

Harry knows that his friend is known to be a party animal and a ladies favorite and Niall obviously doesn’t scare away from a little flirt, but what others don’t see is that he is not that big of a player people tend to make him be. If he is serious about someone, he’ll be one hundred percent faithful to that person and now he has eyes only for Zoe.

Harry doesn’t realize he has zoned out, just standing under the water, thinking about the possibility that he has met you before, but he can’t think of any other occasion.

“Hey,” Niall catches his attention. “You like her?” he asks, and Harry notices how the playfulness is gone from his words, he has transformed into the caring friend Harry could count on anytime.

“I mean, as much as you can like someone you don’t really know,” he mumbles, keeping his eyes down as he feels his cheeks blushing.

Dating is a field for Harry he is not entirely comfortable with. Unlike many assume, he is not that outgoing and social like his teammates, making friends everywhere they go. Growing up he was always the shy kid, he had to be nagged to participate in activities that required talking to more than just two people. It was one of the main reasons why he started playing hockey, his mother thought it would help him open up and ease his social anxiety and though it did wonders to him, just like she expected, it couldn’t change his entire personality.

He had only dated one girl in high school and even before asking her out, he needed six entire months to muster up the courage and do so. He always envied guys his age that could just easily flirt and pick up girls at parties or even just a coffee shop. Anytime he sees a girl he finds pretty, his brain goes blank and he starts stuttering, so most of the time he keeps quiet and doesn’t even try. He is not a man of many words, that is for sure.

“Alright, then just… try to get on her good side. I’ll talk to Zoe, ask her if she knows anything,” Niall offers.

“Okay, but please be subtle. I don’t need Zoe to go and tell Y/N that I’ve been stalking her or something.”

“Subtle is my middle name, baby,” Niall laughs, his cheeky side coming back in an instant.

“No, it’s James,” Harry rolls his eyes before shutting the water off and walking out of the shower.

🏒🏒🏒

It’s another Friday and another attempt from Zoe to drag you to a party. Unfortunately, you can’t say no this time, because you owe her one after you left your wallet at home on your busiest day when you didn’t have time to go back to the dormitory. She was noble enough to make a detour to your room, grab it for you and bring it across campus between two of your classes. She gave it to you under one condition, though; made you promise you’d come to the next party with her.

Now you are sitting on your bed, dressed in a black dress Zoe lent it to you for the night, paired with your black Converse and a denim jacket, while your roommate is finishing up her last touches on her makeup.

“Whose party is this gonna be, again?”

“Uh, it’s Tanner’s birthday. He is on the Hockey team.”

You take a deep breath before you could open your mouth to question her why she hasn’t shared this information. Obviously, this was her plan all along, because she knew if you figured out who is hosting it, you’d have found a way to get yourself out of it. You definitely don’t want to spend another evening surrounded by hockey players and other assholes. You’ve had enough of all that last time.

The memory of Harry running into you pops into your head, and then when you found out you two would be paired for the rest of the semester for your criminology class. It’s been two weeks since that happened, Harry sat next to you silently at every class since then and when you were assigned to what case you’d have to work on, he asked for your number so you can easily agree on the time when you start working on it. You still have plenty of time, but you definitely don’t want to leave it to the last minute, so very soon you’ll have to spend more time with him.

It’s been a pleasant surprise that he didn’t try to make small talks with you, just sat there, only said hello and goodbye before and after class, but other than that he let you be completely. You figured he would try to charm his way with you, chat you up and expect you to fall to your knees for him, just how you always imagine athletes act, but it hasn’t been the case at all.

The thought of seeing him out of the lecture hall brings you an unfamiliar feeling in your stomach, but you push it down quickly, ignoring it as much as you can.

Once Zoe is all done, you call a taxi, not feeling like walking thirty minutes off campus. This Tanner guy apparently lives with a bunch of other players from the team in a house near school, so you feel like it’s gonna be just like another frat party again.

Arriving at the house, you’re slightly relieved that it doesn’t seem as wild as the one you were dragged to last time, though the music is blasting here as well, a few lingering people on the front porch and you can see more inside through the windows.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna disappear this time,” Zoe swears to you, linking her arm with yours as you make your way inside.

The view is what you were expecting, a lot of people drinking, talking and dancing, through the open backdoor you can see a beerpong table out in the back, the small kitchen island is filled with all kinds of drinks, red solo cups everywhere.

Zoe spots Niall right away and she pushes her way through the people, pulling you after her until she finally reaches him in the back of the living room, greeting him with a short kiss. Despite the fact that they are not officially an item just yet, Niall doesn’t seem to mind it, in fact, he circles an arm around her waist and pulls her in gladly, gifting her with a smile once she leans back. It’s almost kind of cute. Almost, because you still don’t trust athletes.

“Can I get you girls something to drink?” he asks, eyes switching between you and Zoe.

“That would be great, thank you!” she beams and Niall is already off to get the two of you something. When he returns, he hands you a cup and judging from the smell of it, it’s probably vodka and energy drink. Not quite what you wanted, but it’ll be fine to start the evening off.

For your surprise, you run into a few familiar faces, two guys you had a few classes together last semester, so you get into a conversation of your own while Zoe stays by Niall’s side, but you’re still only about two feet away from each other.

A second drink follows your first one, Zoe joins the conversation and then new people arrive and you find yourself enjoying being with new people and ones you already know. For some reason, you don’t actually dread being here and you wonder if you’d like parties more if you just loosened up a bit.

However as good as it starts, it soon takes a bitter turn. This guy named Elijah joins your little circle out of somewhere, you’re not even sure if anyone knows him, but he clearly is interested in you. He tries to strike up a conversation between the two of you, but you’re not in the mood and he isn’t even your type. At first you try to hint that the flirting is useless, but he doesn’t seem to read the signs. Then you somehow navigate your way so you have a person between you and him, but he keeps coming after you, asking you stupid questions, trying to get to know you. Zoe is a bit busy with Niall, sitting on the couch behind you and you don’t want to bother her, you can handle the situation on your own.

Excusing yourself from the group, you head upstairs to look for the bathroom, hoping he doesn’t want to follow you there, but oh boy were you wrong. Because right as you reach the top of the stairs and you glance over your shoulder, you see him nearing the stairs as well, clearly with the intention of following you.

“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath and you rush down the hallway, looking for a place to hide, but then you hear his voice coming from way too close for your liking and in a panicked mode you open the nearest door and step into the room, shutting the door closed before Elijah could see where you went.

You hear his footsteps outside the door and even his voice as he asks someone if they saw you, but luckily, they are oblivious to who he is looking for. Waiting a couple moments you hold your breath until you think that he is finally gone. Only then you realize that you’ve walked straight into someone’s room, because it’s definitely not a bathroom. And with your hidden sixth sense, you just know that someone else is there too.

As you slowly turn around you expect many things; a drunk guy passed out on a bed, a naked couple in the middle of pleasing each other or a group of girls who’ll scream your head off for barging in. But instead of any of these, you find someone you weren’t exactly expecting to: Harry Styles.

He is sitting in the middle of the bed, his back propped up against the headboard, a book in his hands, eyes widened as he stares back at you, clearly surprised at your arrival. You allow yourself a quick look around, the room is clearly occupied by a male, but there are a surprising amount of books lined up on the shelves, a pile of clothes in the far corner and a big sports bag near the door, a pair of ice-skates right next to it. You’re about ninety percent sure that this is Harry’s room, judging from the way he just casually reads on the bed, you wouldn’t think he just chose a random place for it.

“I—uhh, sorry for… Sorry for barging in, I was just trying to… find a-a bathroom,” you explain with zero confidence, as he just sits there, staring back at you. For a few long moments you think that he won’t even say a thing, but then he closes the book and pushes himself up.

“I have one, if you want to use it,” he tells you, nodding towards the door that’s beside his desk, probably leading to a bathroom.

“That would be… That would be amazing, thank you,” you nod.

“All yours,” he quietly nods and you rush over to the door, get inside and close the door, running away from his curious eyes.

You don’t even need to use the bathroom that badly, but since you’re already here, you do your business and take a couple of seconds to pull yourself together. It’s uncertain why you feel so nervous around him all of a sudden, but it’s probably because you feel like you’ve just invaded his privacy, but he also got you curious why he is hurled up in his room in the middle of a party in his own home?!

Walking out of the bathroom you find him over at his dresser, throwing clothes into the top drawer, as if he is trying to quickly clean the place up now that you’re here, even though it’s not that messy, you’ve seen way worse.

You stop at the door as you step back into the room, your eyes moving over to the door of the room and you think about how you definitely don’t want to go out, Elijah is probably still looking for you and you just can’t tolerate him any longer.

“Are you really in here, reading while a party is right outside your room?” you ask, nodding towards the book he left on the bed.

“I wasn’t really in the mood to party,” he shrugs, closing the drawer as he watches you wander around the room as if you were invited to check it out. You’re just hoping he won’t ask you to leave.

“What were you reading?” you curiously eye the book that is now lying on his bed with the cover facing down. You walk over to the bed and sit on the edge, but don’t reach for the book as he joins you, sitting next to you before grabbing the book. He shows you the cover and you read the title: The Big Sleep.

“It’s a crime novel, right?” you ask. You’ve heard about it before, but you never had the chance to read it yourself.

“Yeah. My sister actually recommended it.”

“How is it?”

“It’s good, there’s a lot going on,” he smiles gently, mindlessly flipping through the pages before he puts it to his little nightstand that has a lamp and a few rings on it. “I can lend it to you when I’m done if you want,” he offers and your eyebrows rise at the nice offer.

“Oh, yeah. That would be great, thank you,” you nod.

Harry runs a hand through his hair and it catches your attention, gazing over his features while he is looking around in his room, clearly a bit lost about what he should do or say. He looks so different now, a lot more reserved, not like any of his friends from the team. Only now you’re noticing that he is lacking the kind of confidence you see in Niall, for example. He is fidgeting with the sheets on his bed, eyes avoiding to look straight at you, this is all so new and surprising compared to the picture you had of him in your mind.

“So… You don’t want to go back to the party?” he asks, clearing his throat, his eyes finally meeting yours.

“Oh, um…” You think about having to see Elijah again and even just the thought makes you grimace.

“Did something happen?”

“No, I just… Well…”

“Someone hurt you?” Harry asks, clearly worried about you, which is also quite odd.

“No, Just this guy kept coming after me and I was feeling uncomfortable, and… yeah.”

Harry stares back at you, the gears turning in his head as he figures out what it’s really about, and he puts the pieces together.

“Do you… Do you want to maybe start working on the case for criminology?”

In the middle of a party with drunk college kids and so much booze, Harry Styles didn’t only choose to stay in his room and read, but now he is inviting you to stay in his room because you’re trying to hide from an annoying guy. What a surprising turn of events.

You end up staying, though as soon as you started digging up sources, you ended up watching true crime videos on YouTube. The two of you got one of the biggest cases assigned for your project, the disappearance of Madeleine McCann and obviously, the internet is filled with theory videos and articles, documentaries about the case.

Lying comfortably on his bed with his laptop between you, it’s probably the millionth video you’re watching, talking about the behavior of the parents and the evidence that point at them being guilty. The party downstairs is long forgotten, you’re deep in discussion about the evidence and techniques used during the investigation.

“Hey, we should also watch that documentary about the case on Netflix!” you offer, remembering you’ve seen it pop up on your feed.

“Oh, that’s a great idea,” he nods eagerly, already pulling up his own Netflix, searching up the series to add to his list. You’re just about to suggest to start watching it now, when there’s a knock on the door and you both sit up, remembering that you’re not the only ones in the house.

Without waiting for a response, the door opens and Niall walks in, seemingly very much enjoying himself, but he stops in his tracks upon seeing the two of you sitting on the bed.

“Oh shit, I didn’t know you had a guest!” he exclaims, holding his hands up, his eyes switching between you and Harry.

“Niall, this is—“

“Don’t have to explain,” he winks and you feel your stomach drop. The judgment is making you sick and you fight hard not to think back to it when you were targeted in high school.

“No, we were just watching videos for criminology, nothing—“

“It’s all good!” Niall keeps interrupting Harry and suddenly, you can’t breathe. You need to get out of this room, away from Harry before anyone else sees the two of you. What were you thinking? They are all the same, like Dax and his asshole crew in high school.

“Niall, stop!” Harry growls as you climb off the bed, both guys averting their attention to your hurried movements. “Hey, Y/N, you don’t want to stay?” Harry asks softly and you shake your head.

“I need to get out of here,” you mumble, avoiding to look at either of them as you rush to the door. You need to push Niall aside to get out and though you hear Harry jumping off the bed as well, you don’t stop and don’t look back.

The two boys are left puzzled, Harry jolts after you, but Niall stops him.

“Did I say something?” he asks, the playfulness long gone from his tone.

“I know as much as you do,” Harry answers, before running after you.

The house got packed since you’ve disappeared upstairs and you need to push your way through the people to move ahead. Someone calls your name, the voice sounds like Harry’s, but you don’t stop, you need to get out. Unfortunately, you run right into someone and when the person turns around you realize that it’s Elijah.

“Hey! There you are!” he cheers, clearly drunk.

“Fuck,” you mumble and try to move away from him, but his arm falls around you, pulling you to his side.

“I’ve been looking for you!” he slurs, his breath is stinking from the alcohol. Your panic is rising with each second spent pressed up against his side.

“Yeah, I just… Can you please…”

“Come and play beerpont with us!” He tries to drag you outside and you make another attempt to get out of his hold with not much luck, he is sticking to you like glue. Right until a tall figure appears right in front of him.

“Hey man. What’s going on?” Harry asks, his eyes falling on Elijah’s arm around you and then he sees your miserable face.

“Just gonna bring my Y/N to play some beerpong!” Elijah tries to walk past Harry, but he doesn’t let him, placing a hand to his chest.

“Yeah, I think you had enough to drink and Y/N doesn’t seem like she wants to play.”

Elijah looks at you through his glassy eyes and you bet he sees at least two of you. Then he turns back to Harry with a puzzled look.

“You know her?” he simply asks, his words melting into one big mess.

“Yes, I do. Why don’t you just go and find Tanner?” he suggests randomly and it seems like it easily takes Elijah’s attention away from you. His arm falls from around you and it’s a tiny relief, but you still want to get out of here.

“Tanner! Yo!” Elijah calls out, disappearing in the crowd and you’re left with Harry again. He softly grabs your hand, pulling you after him right towards the front door. He doesn’t say a word, but you follow him blindly, his hold on your hand almost comforting. Then you finally get out of the house and it feels like you can breathe again.

“Are you alright?” Harry softly asks as the two of you stand at the corner of the house, only a handful of people lingering around, everyone else is squeezed together inside.

“I just want to go home,” you whimper, trying your hardest to keep your shit together.

“I’ll drive you home,” he offers and your eyes snap up to him. At first you want to protest saying that he has drunk, but then you realize he wasn’t even downstairs, spent most of the evening with you watching videos about your case. Normally you wouldn’t accept the ride, but this is your fastest route home right now, so at last you nod and follow him to his jeep that’s parked on the driveway.

Neither of you talk on the way back to the campus, he is the first one to break the silence just to ask which dormitory you’re living in. The neighborhood is kinda dead, after all it’s Friday night, most students are out somewhere in the city, or at a frat or sorority house, drinking the cheap booze. When Harry parks down in front of your building, you don’t move at first, needing a moment to get yourself together and leave the car.

“I’m sorry if Niall upset you, he can be an ass sometimes, but I swear he didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Turning to Harry you only see bits and parts of his face in the dim lighting coming from the streetlights lining the pavement outside. He seems genuinely worried as he grips the steering wheel tight.

“It’s fine,” you mumble, but it doesn’t sound too convincing, not even to you.

“I’ll talk to him and tell him to apologize and—“

“I said it’s fine. I’m sure he has more important things to do than care for what he says to others,” you snap and flinging the door open you jump out of the car. “Thanks for the ride,” you mumble before shutting it closed, but you hear him get out right away, jogging to catch up with you before you could enter the building.

“Hey, I know he acted like a douche, but it was just a joke, okay?” Standing in front of you he stops you from walking further ahead and you stare up at him with your arms crossed over your chest, jaw clenched.

“What’s funny to one person might be hurtful to others, Harry. And I know damn well that guys like Niall think that everything is just a joke, but they are wrong. Sometimes you should think about what others might feel before dropping these so called jokes!”

You didn’t intend to lash out like this, but it’s been bottled up inside you for way too long. Everything that happened in high school, the way you were treated by Dax still stings, even though you tell yourself you’ve moved past it. Some things just way too deep to forget about them as fast as you’d like.

Harry clenches his jaw as he stares back at you, probably trying to figure out why you’re making such a big deal out of it, but it’s hard without knowing the background of the whole story and you’re not planning on sharing with him.

“Y/N, I—“

“I’ll see you in class, Harry,” you breathe out and walking past him, you finally get inside the building. Glancing back one last time you see that he is still standing there, like a statue, but you don’t wait to see how long he stays, you head up to your floor.

🏒🏒🏒

Harry doesn’t return home right after he dropped you off. He goes for a ride, replaying every tiny bit of what you told him. It doesn’t make sense, you were talking about Niall as if he was part of a group that hurt you, but you barely know him or any of the guys on the team to be honest.

He drives around the campus at least three times, passing by your building, wondering what you could be doing before he heads back to the house. It’s late and he is relieved to see that the party has died down since he left, only a couple more guests left aside from his teammates. He is relieved to see Elijah gone by now, he’s still mad at him for acting like that with you, his drunkenness is no excuse and Harry has a strong guess he was the one you were running away from when you stumbled into his room.

He sees Tanner and a few girls on the couch, a group of football players his teammates are friends with and then Niall and Zoe in the kitchen. When Zoe spots him walk in, she runs up to him right away.

“Hey, have you seen Y/N?”

“Yeah, I took her back to the dorm,” he nods, part of him a little mad at the girl that she lost track of her friend.

“Oh thank God! She is not answering her phone and I’ve looked for her everywhere!”

“Well, maybe you should leave her alone at a party,” Harry mumbles under his breath, the accusation taking Zoe by surprise, but then an expression of guilt flashes through her eyes. Harry didn’t mean to come off too harsh, it’s not at all his style, so he mumbles a quiet sorry before sighing. “She got really upset, I’m not sure why though.”

“What happened?” Zoe asks as Niall walks up behind her, placing a hand to the small of her back.

“I barged into Harry’s room when she was there, just joked around a bit, but she didn’t seem to take it well,” Niall admits, taking the blame. Harry can tell he feels guilty for whatever he did, even if he has no idea what triggered you.

Zoe lets out a tired sigh, her eyes closing and it’s clear she knows more than the two guys.

“You know why she got so upset?” he asks her.

“Well, I don’t know the whole story. She never told me and I didn’t want to push. But… some dumb football player messed with her in high school and it made her hate all athletes.”

“What? She hates all athletes because of one asshole?” Niall grimaces in confusion.

“I’m sure it’s more complicated than that, but I don’t know much, really.”

Harry chews on his bottom lip, theories running wild in his head about what could possibly happen to make you hate athletes this much, but he knows you’re the only one who knows the truth.

With one last glance at Zoe and Niall, he heads back up to his room.

Harry has never been a big fan of social media, but he has learnt that it could easily be a great source of information in some cases. Turning his laptop on he opens Facebook probably for the first time in a year. His profile is as dry as a desert, he hasn’t changed his picture since his sophomore year, but he couldn’t care less. Typing your name into the search bar he easily finds your profile, but it seems like you either keeps everything hidden from people that are not your friends or you use it just as often as he does. Sighing he leans back in his chair, thinking of another way to find out what really happened to you.

Though most of your information is hidden, your previous high school’s name is shown on your profile, so he uses that to get somewhere. He finds the school’s website and starts looking around until he stumbles upon a page where he can search up the digital versions of yearbooks from the past decade. Checking the year he thinks you graduated, he looks for you first just to be sure. When he finds your smiling photo, he takes just a few seconds to look at a version of you he didn’t have the luck to meet. You didn’t change much, just got a different haircut and maybe gained a few pounds, but Harry still thinks you look wonderful. Then he starts digging through the pages with special interest in the athletes.

Judging from the pictures it’s easy to figure out who were the popular kids in your grade, Dax Hackney catching his attention right away with his little group of friends from the football team. It seemed like he was the star player and was most likely breaking lots of hearts through his high school years. Oddly, Harry can’t imagine you falling for him, but he reminds himself not to judge a situation he didn’t witness or wasn’t in.

After a little more digging he eventually finds Dax’s social media and it’s just a few clicks from there to access all his friends’ profile from school. He is now attending school in California with a football scholarship, what a surprise and luckily he didn’t wipe his posts out after starting college.

Picture after picture, Harry scrolls through the pages until he finds what he was looking for. The posts are from your senior year and Harry actually needs a moment to recognize you with Dax and his friends in several photos. At parties, after football games, hanging out in someone’s basement, it seemed like you were part of his circle, until right before prom pictures. He clicks through the posts of several people, but sees no trace of you with Dax or any of his friends, like you disappeared. And then he finds an old video at a girl’s page that has his blood boiling.

It was taken at a party after prom clearly, judging from the outfits and all the booze. The girl took the video in selfie mode, sitting on a couch with Dax and another girl Harry saw in other posts too.

“How do you feel, winner?” the girl asked smiling ta the camera, clearly talking to Dax who smirks at the phone with an overwhelming amount of confidence.

“You mean double winner?” he chuckles.

“Oh yeah. You didn’t only become prom king but also won the bet with Nick,” the girl cackles and Harry can’t stop himself from grimacing as the video continues playing.

“She was an easy bet,” Dax chuckles before the video ends and jumps to the next one. Harry is fuming as he rewatches it, almost entirely sure that they were talking about you. That asshole must have brought you into some kind of nasty bet that ended up hurting you so badly you now hate all athletes. He truly thought shit like this only happens in movies, but apparently, it’s not the case.

The thought of some asshole football player breaking your heart got Harry fuming, bringing out the side of him not many know. He is not that easy to piss off to a level where he wants to throw a punch, unlike many of his teammates. But this piece of information about you makes him want to find every fucker that hurt you to beat them up for what they did.

🏒🏒🏒

You spend the weekend catching up on some assignments and papers that are due later before fall break, but you just don’t want to leave everything to the last minute. You even manage to go to the gym Sunday afternoon, squeezing in some cardio and weight lifting you’ve been putting off for a while now. It’s refreshing and switches your mind off for a while. You’re already heading to shower when Zoe texts you, asking if you want to watch a movie later with her. She’s been up in your case all weekend, asking what happened at the party, but you didn’t feel like talking about it, so now she is worried something might be bothering you. She is wrong, it was just a little something you’ll eventually forget about, you just need to avoid the people who bring these situations on you.

You text her back that you’ll be home soon and that she can choose a movie before you wash off the sweat of your workout. The rushing footsteps behind you send a shiver down your spine, making your inner alarm go off, but when you peek over your shoulder a wave of relief washes over you when you see that it’s just Harry.

“Hey!” he calls after you, quickly catching up with you on the pavement, a giant sports bag thrown over his shoulder. He is wearing an all black outfit that looks quite cozy, the sweatpants and hoodie seems soft and they hang a little baggy on him, but still giving a slight glimpse of his muscular figure underneath.

“Hi,” you mumble under your breath, never stopping moving ahead. “What are you doing here? Didn’t see you at the gym.”

“I wasn’t at the gym,” he smiles softly, nodding towards the building across the parking lot next to the gym that holds the school’s ice rink. You didn’t know they had practice this late and on Sunday. As if Harry is sensing your confusion, he explains what he was doing. “I help coach out sometimes at the kids’ practice.”

It still doesn’t make much sense, practices aren’t usually held on the weekend, it’s not too convenient, but you don’t question it any longer.

“Are you heading back to the dorm?” he asks and you just nod without a word. “I can give you a ride.”

“No need, I like to walk.”

“Y/N, your dorm is all the way across campus, it’s gonna take you at least twenty minutes to get home.”

“It’s nice out here,” you argue stubbornly.

“Y/N, please!” His hand gently grabs your upper arm to stop you from moving and you turn to face him. You see genuine worry on his face and right now you can’t quite point out any reason why he could use this against you and a ride home sounds kind of nice after the workout you just pulled.

“Okay,” you mumble back with a small nod.

“Great. My car is over there,” he nods towards the parking lot so you need to head back. “Are you feeling better?” he asks, peeking at you carefully.

“I’m fine,” you shrug, folding your arms on your chest.

“I’m really sorry about Friday and Niall too. I swear he didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Yeah, sure,” you hum, not quite in the mood to talk about any of it, but you know he won’t drop it.

“Look, I know that he can act like an ass sometimes, but he would never hurt anyone intentionally. He is a great guy, known him since high school. He was actually the first friend I made when I switched teams in high school. He just came up to me on the ice, told me he liked my skates and then invited me to hang out with him and his friends in his mom’s basement later that week. I had about zero friends back then so he really saved my ass.”

“You? Zero friends?” you ask surprised. It’s hard to imagine him not being popular.

“Yeah,” he nods with a small smile on his lips as his hands grab onto the strap of his bag to keep it from dangling by his side. “I actually used to be very shy, my mum made me start hockey to get some friends on the team when I was smaller. I mean, I’m still not a social butterfly, but I’m doing better now,” he admits with a soft chuckle.

“You don’t strike as someone who ever had issues with making friends.”

“There is a difference between always having people around me and actually being friends with them.”

That got you thinking. Because most of the times you saw Harry there were a bunch of people around him, but you haven’t actually seen him talk to anyone outside of his team and a very few people. This just backs up what he just shared with you.

You finally reach his car, the jeep you sat in just a few days ago, but this time you’re in a way better mood as you climb into the passenger seat.

“When do you want to keep working on our case?” he asks as he starts the car.

“Um, I’m pretty sure you’re busier with practices, so you tell me when you’re free.

“Actually, it would be nice if we got a head start on it before fall break. We’ll have a game almost every weekend, sometimes even two and coach is gonna be squeezing in as many practices as possible soon.”

You nod, not minding to work on it before the second half of the semester strikes.

“We can meet on Tuesday and Wednesday before practice and on Friday after practice?”

“Friday? That would mean you’d be late to whatever party is happening that day.”

Harry chuckles softly as he heads to your dorm’s building, knowing the route already.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m fine without parties.”

You push out a small chuckle, remembering how he spent his last Friday evening until you barged into his room. It’s just still weird that a hockey player is not eager to get drunk and party like crazy every chance given.

He pulls up to your building and suddenly you feel bummed it was such a short run-in with him. Reaching for the handle you force yourself to get out of the car.

“Thanks for the ride, Harry,” you smile softly.

“No problem. See you on Tuesday in class?” he smiles back and you swear your heart pitter-patters in your chest. But it’s just the cardio, right? Right?!

You bid goodbye and get inside, chewing on your bottom lip as you head up to your room. Harry Styles has been full of surprises and proven to you that he is not who you thought him to be several times. Maybe you shouldn’t hold a grudge against him for what people he doesn’t even know did to you. But is it worth letting your guards down?

🏒🏒🏒

As the semester carries on and you get deeper into the fall, you get into a series of habits during your weeks. You rotate between classes, doing school work in the library, hanging out with Zoe and some of your other friends and of course, working on your case with Harry. Thanks to your sessions, you see him at least four times a week along with your Tuesday class. You don’t try to keep a distance from him anymore, it’s not even possible with the project going on and Zoe dating Niall. You end up being around him even outside of your study sessions but you don’t mind it, not at all.

You don’t like to admit it, but you’ve grown to like him. A lot. He is great company, he gets your sense of humor unlike many others and he is great with boundaries. It might come from what he told you about being a shy kid growing up. The more time you’ve spent with him the more you saw how reserved he really is and probably that’s why you don’t feel pressure being around him. You just know he would respect your boundaries no matter what.

“Oh shit,” Harry mumbles under his breath, catching your attention. The two of you have been sitting in the library doing research for your case, now he is looking at his phone. “I need to get going, practice starts in fifteen.”

“Oh, I didn’t even realize it was that late,” you chuckle softly, closing the book you’ve been reading and start packing your notes together while Harry does the same. Digging into your bag you get a sense that something is missing. Your hand taps around in your bag when you realize what it is. “Oh shit,” you sigh.

“What?” Harry asks.

“I… left my keys in the room. I was late this morning and forgot to grab them because Zoe was still there.”

“Can you get hers?”

“I uhh… She is in class for another hour,” you sigh, sinking back into the chair. “Guess I’m staying here.”

“You could come to practice if you want,” he offers, zipping up his backpack. “Coach doesn’t mind the audience,” he adds chuckling.

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to intrude and—“

“Y/N, I just said it’s totally fine. But if you want to stay here, that’s fine,” he shrugs, not pushing you any further. If you’re being honest, you’re getting sick of the library. Sticking around for another hour on your own doesn’t sound like something you’d want to do.

“Well, if you’re sure it’s okay, then…”

“Of course it is. Now pack up, we gotta run.”

You’ve never seen an ice-hockey practice and didn’t think you’d ever. It feels weird when Harry leaves you on the grandstand to get changed. It’s almost eerily empty until you see the coach walk in, not even batting an eye when he sees you sitting there. Soon the boys come out in their gear, gliding across the ice like it’s second nature to them.

As they gather around coach at the beginning you catch Harry’s gaze that finds you easily and he shoots you a smile before focusing on what he needs to. And you can’t ignore how your heart skips a beat just by a look he shares with you.

Damn it.

“Now you’re bringing her to practice? Shit is getting serious!” Niall jokes with Harry as they keep shooting around to warm up.

“She just left her keys at the room and Zoe is still in class,” he shrugs, but he knows it’s more than just that. Harry likes having you up there, stretching his time with you even longer than the usual amount.

“And coming to practice was her only choice? I doubt that,” he smirks, but Harry doesn’t budge. He will not out anything about you to anyone at this point, not until he feels like you trust him.

Telling you about his shyness as a kid seemed like what got you to open towards him, though he can still feel your hesitance in some cases. It’s alright, he knows the struggle of getting to know new people all too well.

“Ask her out to the Halloween party,” Niall suggests.

“I don’t know about that, she is not a fan of… parties, I guess. Neither am I to be honest.”

“Because you always keep to yourself, but you two could be lonely together this time.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Harry chuckles at his friend. He glances up at you again, seeing that you have a book open on your lap, but you’re watching him and his team mates messing around on the ice. He could easily get used to having you around more often, it brings him a sense of tranquility.

You sit through the whole practice without even texting Zoe that you need her to get back to the room. You got way too busy watching Harry on the ice, it’s almost a little embarrassing. But you have to admit it was kind of entertaining and it wasn’t even a real game. It amazed you how good they all are on the ice, you could never glide the way they do, probably because the last time you skated was when you were ten.

When practice is over you realize you didn’t read one single line from the book you had on your lap, hopefully no one noticed it. You see Harry glide to the edge of the rink in front of you, pushing himself up a bit over the palisade.

“I can give you a ride home if you want, just have to shower quickly.”

“I’ll be at your car,” you smile back at him, packing up your stuff, watching him get off of the ice and disappear in the dressing room.

You let out a long sigh, taking a moment to yourself before heading out of the building to Harry’s car. As you walk out and head to the parking lot you spot a group of girls at a bench near the exit and you catch their glimpses of you when they spot you. Keeping your head low you just get over to Harry’s car and hope he won’t take long. At last you text Zoe asking if she’s back already and you’re relieved to get a message from her that she just got back to the room.

Boys from the team start flowing out of the building and you don’t miss how the girls say hi to all of them, seemingly knowing them well enough to be friendly to them. Now that you’re thinking about it, you’ve seen them at parties, last time at Tanner’s birthday as well.

Harry is about the fifth person to walk out, wearing his clothes from earlier, but his hair is now damp probably from the shower he just took.

“Hi Harry!” one of the girls calls out upon seeing him. It seems like he didn’t notice them until now and you watch him just send a wave in their direction before walking up to the car where you are.

“Hey, ready to go?” he asks unlocking the car and opening the passenger door for you.

“Thanks,” you mumble before he shuts the door closed and rounds the car to get to the other side. Through the window you see the girls intently talking about most likely you and probably who you are and why you’re leaving with Harry after practice. It takes just a second for you to make wild guesses what the girls could be talking about.

Who is she?

Why is Harry spending time with her?

Are they dating?

Is she really his type?

As Harry shuts his door you snap out of your thoughts, turning to watch him ignite the car.

“Hey, do you know them?” you ask nodding towards the girls. He glances out the window, taking a look at them.

“Um, not that well. They are more like friends with Tanner and Jack,” he shrugs and it’s nice to know he is not friends with them, but you’re still left with a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. “Hope you weren’t that bored during practice,” he smiles at you as he heads to your dorm.

“It was actually kind of fun,” you admit shyly.

“Really? You should come to a game then.”

“You think I would like that?”

“If you enjoyed practice, you’d be fine with the game. A lot more is happening then.”

“If you say so,” you chuckle.

“Maybe next Saturday?” he asks in excitement, not wanting to pass on the chance to get you to one of his games.

“Um, we’ll see,” you smile at him, but already know that you’ll most likely be there. Zoe’s been already trying to drag you to a game since she’s become a thing with Niall, she’ll be over the moon if she finds out you finally want to go.

🏒🏒🏒

You: You know, we still haven’t watched the Netflix series.

Harry: That is very true.

You: Do you still want to?

Harry: Of course! Want to binge watch it this weekend?

You: I’m in.

Harry: Sunday?

You: Perfect.

🏒🏒🏒

You spend most of the Sunday cleaning. Your laundry has piled up way too much over the past two weeks and it was time to clean out your mini fridge as well. Zoe has been out with Niall, but when she gets back in the afternoon she joins in, cleaning up her side of the room a bit though she’s been keeping it quite tidy.

“Want to make a quick grocery trip with me?” she offers while you’re both changing the sheets on your beds.

“Um, I can’t, I have plans with Harry.”

“Oh! Like a date?” she beams with excitement, but you shake your head.

“No, we are just gonna watch that Netflix docu series about the case for criminology.”

“Mm, some Netflix and chill,” she winks at you, but you just roll your eyes at her. “You’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

“Yeah, we want to finish the project early before he gets caught up with games and practice.”

“But it hasn’t been just for the project.”

“Well, I guess you’re right,” you nod, biting the inside of your cheeks.

“Is there… something more going on?” she keeps pushing curiously.

“Um, not really. Don’t think so,” you shake your head and it’s the genuine truth. It hasn’t been anything but friendly.

“But you want something more to happen, right?” Zoe can’t hide her smile as she stands with her hands on her hips while you busy yourself with the pillows on your bed, not answering her. “Y/N!”

“What?” you huff in defeat.

“You’re into him, right?” Now she is grinning, walking over to you and pulling you with her to sit on your freshly made bed. “I see it in your eyes, you can’t deny it!”

“If you’re so sure then why are you asking?”

“Come on, just admit it! It’s totally fine that you like him, don’t have to be ashamed about it.”

“I’m not ashamed.”

“So you do like him!”

“I guess I do,” you admit with a sigh. “He is just… easy to be around. Doesn’t try to talk all the time, he actually has great manners and I don’t know…”

“You have a crush on him,” Zoe points it out, making your heart skip a beat just by thinking about it. It’s been so long since the last time you had a crush on someone that you almost forgot about the feeling.

“Let’s not get into theories, alright?” you chuckle awkwardly. “We’re just… friends. Don’t want to get into the rest of that mess.”

“Okay, okay, I gotcha. But just so you know, there’s nothing wrong about liking him even if it’s against your rules and all that,” she tells you, giving your knee a squeeze before she stands up and drops the topic finally.

You get done way before Harry told you he would pick you up since he is assisting his coach at the kids’ practice today as well. Not wanting to sit around longer, driven by a sudden idea you head across the campus to sit in on the practice a little, hoping you won’t get thrown out.

Luckily as you arrive you’re happy to see you’re not the only one watching, several parents are sitting on the grandstand. You settle on the side, scanning over the ice that is now filled with little kids instead of guys in their twenties. They are practicing passing, lined up in two lines, passing the puck between each other while Harry is going around, helping them all out, the coach instructing them from his usual spot. You watch them curiously and the more you examine the kids the clearer it becomes to you that this is not just a regular practice for kids.

It takes some time for Harry to spot you and when he does, he waves in your way before getting back to work. You are in complete awe at how good he is with the kids, his patience never runs out and it seems like the kids adore him too. You can’t wipe the silly smile off your face as you watch him for the rest of the practice.

When the ice empties out you follow the parents to the waiting area while the kids change back from their gear. They all flow out at once along with the coach and Harry. Some boys basically cling onto him, their parents trying to get them to leave already, but Harry doesn’t seem to mind.

“Hey,” he smiles at you when he finally frees himself from his fans.

“Hi. Sorry I came earlier, I just really didn’t have anything to do,” you admit with an awkward chuckle.

“It’s alright.” Another boy runs up to Harry, hugging him goodbye before taking his mother’s hand as they walk out of the building.

“You’re really good with them,” you tell him seeing how he interacts with them.

“Thanks.” He scratches the back of his neck, clearly not used to the praise, but you can tell it’s something that’s close to his heart.

“These kids… they are…” You try to find the right words, but luckily he helps you out.

“They are all in special ed. Their disabilities vary from autism through severe anxiety…” he encounters taking a look at the remaining of the kids left in the area. “We have a deaf boy as well…”

“How did you get into helping them out?”

“Coach was asked to start the group and he thought he could use the extra help. He knows me well, knows how much I struggled growing up and he thought I could connect with the kids well. He was right,” he smiles shyly and it feels like your chest is on fire.

There is this tall, sporty guy you thought to be a douche and it turns out that he is a shy, smart and ridiculously nice guy who helps out kids with disabilities… You couldn’t have been more wrong when you judged him just by his looks.

“Ready to go?” he asks, snapping you out of your awe and you can only hope you weren’t staring at him weirdly.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you nod, trying to keep yourself together.

You can’t miss the curious looks the two of you get when you walk into the house together, especially from Niall and you see him pull his phone out right away, most likely texting Zoe that you’re there. Didn’t expect less, to be honest. Harry guides you up to his room and quickly unpacks his bag before starting his laptop so you can watch the series. It gives you a little déjà vu as you both get settled on his bed with the laptop between you, just like not long ago at that party you both were trying to escape.

One episode follows the other and you both get so invested in the series, discussing theories and everything you’ve dug up yourself about the case. It’s interesting to watch the episodes with actual background knowledge about the investigation and techniques they were using, spotting the flaws that could have been avoided.

You don’t even realize how late it’s getting, but not much is left from it so you decide to just finish it anyway. Harry promised he would drive you home after so you don’t have to walk in the dark. However when you peek over at Harry nearing the end, you see that he has fallen asleep. His face is mushed into the pillow, lips slightly parted as he lies on his side, one arm tucked under his head. The light coming from the screen is playing on his gentle expressions.

Fuck, he look so handsome! It would be so much easier to keep yourself guarded if you weren’t attracted to him this much. The amazing personality and his look is a killer combo and as you’re staring at him in the dim lighting, you realize that you are so fucking gone for him…

Not wanting to wake him up, when the last episode finishes you shut his laptop down and put it aside. You think about looking for Niall to ask for a ride home, but it’s ridiculously late now on a Sunday, you don’t want to bother anyone. So instead, you set an alarm early enough for you to go back to your room in the morning and then just decide to spend the night. You really hope Harry won’t mind it as you make yourself comfortable next to him, his bed big enough to easily fit you both. His even breathing is the soothing lullaby you fall asleep to.

🏒🏒🏒

Harry wakes before the alarm in the morning, blinking his haziness away a little confused. When did he fall asleep? He doesn’t remember how the evening ended, one moment you were watching the series, and then…

His eyes fall to your sleeping figure next to him, curled up under the covers, still wearing your clothes from last night. Looking around he spots his laptop safely put aside to the nightstand, your phone lying on top of it. He lets out a long breath, just taking a moment to himself, his eyes glued to you. He adores how peaceful you look and a lot younger. A few strands of hair have fallen out of your ponytail, covering your forehead hastily and before he could stop himself, he is reaching out, gently tugging them behind your ear.

Just right then, your alarm goes off, making you move under his delicate touch and he is quick to pull his hand back before you could realize what he was doing. You stir in your sleep, blindly reaching for the phone and turning the alarm off, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. It takes a couple of moments for your eyes to open, meeting Harry’s green ones.

“Hi,” you sigh with a small smile on your lips and Harry’s heart skips a beat. He could get used to seeing you like this every morning.

“Good morning,” he hums, his voice hoarser than usually. “Sorry I fell asleep last night.”

“It’s alright.”

“You could have woken me up.” “You seemed tired, didn’t want to bother you. I hope you didn’t mind that I stayed,” you whisper, feeling a little shy that you just shared a bed with him.

“I would have been mad if you left alone in the middle of the night,” he chuckles softly, pushing himself up into a sitting position as he checks the time on his own phone. “How about we get some breakfast on our way back to your dorm?” he suggests and your grumbling stomach agrees that it’s a fantastic idea.

Twenty minutes later you’re eating croissants and sipping on coffee on the terrace of a small bakery near your dormitory, having the best morning you’ve had in a while. When Harry drops you off at the dormitory part of you wishes you could spend the whole day with him. And then the next one… and the next one.

Yeah, you’ve definitely fallen for Harry.

🏒🏒🏒

Zoe is over the moon when you tell her you want to go to a game. She’s been going on her own, cheering on Niall and now she’ll finally have someone with her. You feel a little anxious to show up, always thinking about those girls you saw after Harry’s practice that one time. They seem like the kind of girls who wouldn’t miss a game, being close to the guys every given chance. But you try your best to push it into the back of your mind and focus on what’s important: seeing Harry play at a game for the first time.

He’s been all you could think about since your Netflix party. It’s almost ridiculous how you can turn everything around in your head and make it connect to Harry. Because of the game this weekend he had to cancel on Wednesday’s session because they had a double practice. And what did you do? You sat in your room, pathetically wishing you could be with him. Even thought about going to the sports center and watch the practice, but didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself.

Now it’s finally time and when Niall texts Zoe that they arrived, you feel just as excites as on Christmas morning when you were a kid. Niall and Harry picking you up with your best friend, this feels straight out of a teenage movie and you should be laughing at yourself for getting so worked up, but you’re too excited to care about that.

“Hello, ladies!” Niall beams when the two of you walk out of the building. He walks forward to catch Zoe, kissing her so passionately you can almost feel your cheeks heating up. Then you See Harry standing next to the car, smiling at you shyly and suddenly, you want him to greet you the same way Niall greeted your roommate.

Just as you’re thinking about that, for your surprise he pulls you into a hug, wrapping his arms around your frame. For a brief moment you don’t even know what to do, but then you curl your arms around his torso, melting against him gladly.

“Hi,” he greets you quietly when he pulls back, smiling down at you.

“Hi,” you giggle, staring up at him. There’s a moment of sparkle, you swear it’s there, but it’s gone pretty fast when Niall interrupts it.

“Alright, let’s go! Don’t want to be late and get a speech from Coach Simmons,” he scoffs, patting Harry’s shoulder as he rounds the car. Would have been nice to drag the moment a little longer, but whatever…

It’s still pretty early when you get to the sports center, but hockey enthusiasts are already arriving, mostly students from the school. Two of the guys’ teammates come up to the four of you upon arriving, talking about how brutal today’s game will be.

“Wilson needs to pay for what he did last year,” Jack sighs shaking his head.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of him this time,” Niall grins, kissing Zoe’s forehead as he pulls her to his side.

“Wilson?” you ask in confusion, turning to Harry.

“There is this aggressive asshole on Princeton’s team, he almost broke one of our guys’ arm last year,” he explains, your eyes going wide.

“And he is playing today too?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry, we’ve been preparing for him,” he chuckles softly, grabbing his bag from the back of the car.

Wilson… the name rings a bell, but you can’t quite put your finger on it and it’s a common name. But why do you have a weird feeling in your gut then?

Just when the boys are about to head inside, a bus rolls into the parking lot. Princeton’s team has arrived. The doors open and the players start flowing off of it, grabbing their stuff from the trunk. Scanning over them you are about to dismiss their existence when you spot a familiar face and it hits you hard all at once.

Now the name Wilson makes sense, as you see Axel Wilson exit the bus, looking just as bulky and arrogant looking as he was in high school.

“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath, taking a step back out of instinct, bumping against the side of the car.

Axel Wilson was friends with Dax back in high school. He played on the football team but he put more effort into hockey and you faintly remember him getting accepted into a school with a hockey team and now here he is, about to play against the Eagles. You can totally imagine him getting too violent on the ice, just as the guys said, he had quite a few troubles back in high school too. He also very confidently made fun of you after you found out what kind of sick games Dax was playing with you, never shied away to call you names in the hallway after you dropped their whole group.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Harry calls out seeing your reaction. He steps closer, a hand reaching out to tap on your shoulder and feeling his touch you move closer to him as if he was your safe place.

“Y-Yeah, I just… Um, we should…” you stutter around, eyes keep returning to Axel across the parking lot. Harry follows your gaze and his jaw clenches when he realizes that you’re eyeing Axel.

“Do you know him?” he asks, lowering his head and voice, not to draw any attention to you.

“I uhh… Yeah, we-we went to high school together,” you admit and without realizing what you’re doing, you hold onto his hand, moving even closer to him.

You see his eyes flicker back to Axel and you’ve never seen him this… angry? He looks like he is about to launch at him any moment, but he doesn’t even know a thing about that asshole.

When you squeeze his hand it’s like he snaps out of his trance looking back at you. Surprising you again, he pulls you into a tight hug, your face burying into the crook of his neck.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him,” he mumbles against the side of your head before letting you go. It takes a few seconds to process his words, but you can’t question him, because by the time you realize what he just said, he is already on his way inside with the other boys.

“Y/N, you alright?” Zoe asks seeing your shocked expression.

“I think… Shit, Harry is gonna get into trouble and it’s… my fault?!”

You have no idea how he knows about what happened or how he knew that Axel did something against you, but judging from the look in his eyes, you know he is gonna put up a fight against Axel.

🏒🏒🏒

Harry hasn’t been able to get into the right mindset since he saw you looking at Axel terrified and he just knew he was one of the assholes that hurt you. He still doesn’t know the whole story, but that doesn’t mean he is not fuming. Whatever happened was painful enough to leave a scar in you and that’s all Harry needs to know.

Not much is left until the game and he tries to calm himself with the thought of you being out there, waiting to see him get on the ice. But his thoughts keep returning to the asshole in the dressing room next to theirs.

Checking his phone he sees that he had a few missed calls from you since you parted in front of the building and he heads out with the intention of calling you back but when he is out in the hallway, he changes his mind. You must have sensed something on him and now want to talk him down of whatever he might do during the game, but he doesn’t want to hear that, not now. He would rather deal with the aftermath but give Wilson what he deserves.

As if he was speaking of the devil, turning around he sees Axel and two of his teammates approaching him in the hallway, his eyes falling on Harry’s figure.

“Styles! I guess you put on some muscles since last year, yeah?” Axel scoffs, his friends laughing at his comment. Harry wants to launch at him, punch him in the face but he knows if he does anything, he won’t be able to play. So he just stands there, staring back at the three guys. “What? Cat got your tongue?” he continues the teasing. “Saw you outside with your little girl, did she tell you we know each other?”

The smirk on his face makes Harry’s hands itch. This guy just doesn’t know when to shut up and he is really testing Harry’s patience, something he runs rich on, but not this time, seems like.

“Yeah, I know about that,” he sneers back through his teeth.

“Nice choice, she is naïve as fuck. My buddy back in high school made her think he was into her. Ate all the shit up before she got ditched before prom.” Cackling as if he just said the joke of the century, it’s pretty clear Axel thinks it’s a fun story, something he can brag about, but Harry thinks otherwise. Seeing his expression, Axel is just enjoying this moment even more, faking a gasp.

“Oh, is she your girlfriend? That’s your type? Pathetic and ridiculous?”

The last straw snaps in Harry and he is about to jump at Axel’s throat when Niall steps between them.

“Get back to your team, Wilson,” he warns the asshole as Harry is staring at him over Niall’s shoulder with a murderous look. Axel scoffs, backing away from them, but he doesn’t miss the chance to throw one last insult in before he leaves.

“I see you still haven’t learnt to speak up. Guess it’s a good match, Styles. You are both losers.”

🏒🏒🏒

Sitting on the grandstand with Zoe you are basically a nervous wreck. You tried to call Harry to find out what’s really going on but he didn’t answer and you gave up after a while. Now you’re afraid of what will go down during the game.

When the players finally appear on the ice you swear your heart skips a beat when you see Harry in his gear, his last name STYLES printed to the back of his jersey. Unlike during practice, the place is now filled so when Harry runs his gaze over the stands he doesn’t find you at first, but after a few rounds, his eyes finally settle on you.

You wish you could tell him to just stay out of trouble, you wish he could hear your thoughts but there’s no chance, he is down there and you’re up here. You can’t do else than just… watch.

Because you don’t know much about ice hockey, once the game starts it’s hard to keep up with everything that’s happening on the ice, but Zoe helps you out a bit, even though she is not that big of an expert either. She tells you that Harry is a defense player while Niall is their center, and judging from the positions you assume that Axel is a center as well for his own team. You know nothing about tactics or gameplay, but it’s clear that Axel is the most aggressive player on the ice. He gets a two minute penalty in the first period when he trips Tanner so badly he slides several feet from the momentum. Everyone hisses as one when it happens while Axel pretends like nothing happened, but the referees saw it and he gets sent out for two minutes but it seems like he just gets riled up even more because of it.

“Why are they letting him back?” you ask anxiously when you see Axel back on the ice.

“Tanner didn’t get hurt too badly so it’s just two minutes.”

“Didn’t get hurt too badly? Poor guy was sent across the ice!”

And it’s just getting worse. Because you see him move a lot around Harry as if it was his purpose to hurt him and it’s definitely something you expect from a guy like Axel.

Niall scores twice by the end of the second period while the other team scores once, putting your team in the lead. You’re so anxious when the last break starts, your legs are bouncing wild and nothing Zoe is saying can calm you down. When the guys return to the ice, you’re barely breathing.

It happens so fast. Axel is launching forward again and your eyes immediately shift to Harry and judging just by the way he is holding himself, you know he is about to do something stupid.

“Harry!” you find yourself shouting, but your voice gets swallowed in the screaming of all the other students.

They are moving towards each other until they collide, smashing against the other, both of them falling painfully. The screaming elevates and you’re holding your breath as you watch Harry pushing himself up. The referee doesn’t give him a penalty, it surely seemed like an accident, but something is telling you it was far from that. It’s just so shocking to see Harry, your Harry being so violent. Though part of you enjoyed seeing Axel getting knocked down like that, but he doesn’t seem happy about it and it sets the alarm off inside you.

There’s still about ten minutes left when Axel shows just how big of an asshole he is. He and another one of his teammates from his right are attacking, though Niall and Tanner are doing a great job at keeping them away from the net, right until he decides to take matters into his hands. When the puck gets stolen from him for the third time in a row it seems like he completely loses his temper and lashes it all out on Harry.

It doesn’t seem as innocent as the last collision was. It’s clear that Axel lurches at him with the pure intention to hurt him, pushing him up against the board, his elbow meeting Harry’s face so painfully you can almost feel it on your own face. Axel then grabs him by his shoulders and throws him down onto the edge and just when he is about to punch him in the face Harry kicks back and throws him off of himself.

If the referee didn’t interfere it would have surely turned into a full blown fight, but they both end up having to leave the ice and they can’t even return for the rest of the game. Harry has had his back towards you all along but when he finally turns to get off the ice you see the blood flowing from his nose and you pale at the sight of him. Axel shouts at him one last time before he gets thrown into the box for the rest of the game and you don’t hear what it is, but you hear one thing from it.

Your name.

“I need to go,” you jump to your feet when Harry is taken back, probably to get his nose checked out.

“What? Y/N!” Zoe calls after you, but you ignore it. All you can think about is to get to Harry and make sure he is okay.

The rest of the building is almost entirely empty, the game is still on so only a few people are lingering outside of the stands. You rush to the back, running down the unfamiliar hallways hoping to find him somewhere.

“Harry?” you call out, but no answer comes, until you hear the water running in one of the dressing rooms and you head in that direction without hesitation. “Harry, it’s me, Y/N,” you call out again, walking into the room.

You find him leaning against a sink by the wall, his upper body stripped from his gear, jus his underclothes sticking to his torso as he is getting a towel wet to clean his face. His head snaps up at your arrival, surprised to find you there.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to check on you. That looks… shit, let me help, sit down,” you tell him and he doesn’t try to protest, just sits down to the nearest bench as you take the towel from him.

Gently, you wipe the blood off, luckily his nose has stopped running so it’s just a matter of time that he gets rid of this horror-like look. You cup his jaw in one hand, keeping his head in place.

“Sorry,” you breathe out when he hisses when you’re working on the bridge of his nose that’s already starting to bruise. “Shouldn’t you get it checked?”

“It’s not broken,” he sighs, but you give him a skeptical look. “I’ve broken it twice before, know what it feels like,” he adds.

“Harry, what happened?” you ask softly when you’re done, dropping the towel into the sink.

“He is just an asshole,” he shrugs, but it’s an obvious lie.

“I know you messed with him on purpose the first time, that wasn’t an accident, right?” you question, referring back to the first time him and Axel collided. Harry clenches his jaw before nodding shortly. “Before the game, you said you’re gonna take care of him. How did you know he did something?”

“I… please don’t get mad, but I searched up a few people you went to high school with. Saw a video that made it pretty clear that Dax guy did something disgusting to you and when you saw Axel at the parking lot I just knew he was part of it.”

Sitting beside him you know you have to share the whole story with him. Especially after what he just took from Axel.

“I was never the popular girl in high school and I always envied the girls everyone knew,” you start and Harry listens intently. “I was surprised when Dax, the star football player approached me. It occurred to me that he might have some bad intentions, but I was so naïve and I enjoyed the sudden attention I was getting not just from him, but all the other popular kids too.”

You’re nervously fidgeting with your fingers in your lap until Harry reaches out and takes your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze, like he is assuring him that everything is fine, you can trust him.

“Dax kept coming after me, flirting with me and asking me out all the time, but I didn’t want to give in that easily. But he didn’t give up and when prom was nearing I thought that he would ask me out if we went on a few dates beforehand. Looking back at it, it’s so silly this was all I wanted, going to prom with the cool kids,” you chuckle bitterly.

“Don’t feel bad, we all wanted to be them at one point,” Harry speaks up, his words actually bringing you a sense of relief.

“Anyway, there was this party, I finally decided to give in, so I let him take me. Kind of like a date, though it was nowhere near that. He was so convincing, I didn’t suspect a thing… We had a few drinks, it was going as usual, until he brought me up into one of the bedrooms. He kissed me and… tried to take it further, but I didn’t want to.”

“Please tell me he didn’t…” “No,” you shake your head. “I wasn’t as drunk as he wanted me to be and I left him after slapping him across his face. I went home, didn’t think it was the end of the world and honestly, if it was the end of the story I would be fine. But Dax went around and told everyone that we had sex and that he did it all for just a bet he made with his stupid friends. He had to get into my pants before prom or he would be paying for all the booze at their ridiculous prom after party.”

Your throat closes up again, thinking back at how worthless and stupid you felt when you found out that it was all just a bet and Dax lied to everyone about what happened between the two of you.

“All of his friends were laughing at me, when just a week before that we were hanging out together. They chose me because I was kind of invisible so they thought I was a loser. I didn’t think like that about myself before, but after what they did…” You let out a long breath, blinking your tears away. “Anyway, I became a joke in the football team and because Axel was friends with Dax, the hockey team was laughing at me too. I couldn’t wait to graduate and start again, wasn’t really planning to see any of them again, so Axel’s appearance threw me off a little,” you admit with a weak chuckle.

Harry’s hand lets go of yours but only to wrap an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his side as you sniffle lightly. You lay your head to his shoulder and he presses a kiss to the crown of your head. After a comfortable and much needed silence he is the first one to speak up.

“Axel saw me with you. He came up to me before the game and said some nasty stuff about you and of course insulted me as well, being the asshole that he is.”

Lifting your head you look at him with widened eyes, listening to his words.

“I almost… punched him right then and there, but Niall stopped me. Thought I would channel it in the game. You’re right, the first one wasn’t an accident. I was just done with his shit, especially after he threw Tanner to the ground. The second time was all him and I could have avoided the penalty if I just didn’t fight back, but… I swear I’ve never been angrier at anyone,” he admits with a chuckle. “Then when we were coming off the ice he said that… well, I would rather not say his exact words, but he didn’t talk about you the way you deserve. So now I wish I would have hit him a few more times before we got separated.”

“He is not worth it. Though I would have loved to see him get his ass kicked,” you admit chuckling, finally putting a smile on his face too.

You didn’t tell anyone about what happened in high school, not even Zoe. Didn’t want anyone to know how naïve and stupid you were to fall for Dax’s little game. But now that you shared it with Harry you actually feel relieved. You don’t feel like he is judging you, or thinking about how you could be such an idiot not to see what was happening right in front of your nose. He is just there for you, comforting you and that’s all you need, that’s all you’ve ever needed.

Suddenly, you realize how close you are sitting, basically pressed up against each other, his arm still draped around you and as you lift your gaze to meet his, you know he is feeling the sparkles, there’s no doubt.

Reaching up you run a finger gently over the bridge of his nose, it’s swollen and bruised, he’ll have to deal with it for a little while for sure, but in a way it’s a reminder to you what he did for you.

“I’m sorry you got hurt because of me,” you murmur softly.

“He is a jerk, he would have done something even if you weren’t in the picture.”

“But still, he went straight after you now. Though you look badass now,” you chuckle, making him smile.

“That’s what I wanted all along,” he jokes and you don’t miss how he leans together, your noses almost brushing against each other. “Besides, I couldn’t just let him get away with talking about you like that. After all… we are partners in crime, right?”

You breathe out a chuckle at his words, the last time he called you that you were trying everything to avoid him, now all you want is to be with him. Never in a million years did you think that you’d fall for a player after what Dax put you through, but Harry only plays on the ice, not with you.

Placing one hand onto his thigh you cup his cheek in your other as you push yourself closer to him, he nudges you playfully with his nose, making you giggle before his lips finally press against yours.

This kiss has been long due and for a second you regret keeping yourself away from him for so long, but then you completely forget about anything but him and the way his lips are melting against yours, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip, asking for permission that you give more than gladly, deepening the kiss. It doesn’t even bother you that you’re in a stinky dressing room, that he is still kinda sweaty from the game, you just want to drag it out for as long as possible.

However it ends when you hear the cheering outside and the rest of the team floods into the room, the game must have just ended. You lean back just as the guys appear, tired from the match, quieting down when they see you and Harry all tangled up.

For a split second you think they are gonna make fun of you, like it happened back when Dax played you, but after a heartbeat of silence they burst out in cheers, clapping and celebrating and it’s pretty clear it’s not about the result of the game. They are going wild because of you and Harry.

“Yes! Styles finally got the girl!”

“Harry manned up, miracle!”

“Our boy is now a man!”

They shout things like these, making your cheeks heating up but not with painful embarrassment this time. Harry groans next to you, but tightens his arms around you as you lean your forehead against his chest. Niall steps forward, patting Harry on the back with the cheesiest grin on his face, his hair all messed up from the helmet, cheeks rosy.

“Fucking hell, it was time already!” he cackles loudly. “I was starting to grow tired of watching him gawk at you any given moment.”

“Way to out me, man!” Harry rolls his eyes, but you don’t miss the smirk on his lips. His gaze turns back to you, squeezing you gently as you stare back at him lovingly. “Though I can’t promise I’ll stop eyeing her all the time,” he adds lowering his voice so only you can hear him. As a reply you just pull him down and kiss him again.

🏒🏒🏒

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

[chippedaxe]

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

Title: Irritated Arousal

Warning(s): cursing, NSFW, thigh f!cking, sub reader, tell me if I should add more warnings.

Pronouns: They/Them, non specific anatomy

Synopsis: Karl with a reader that gets angry when they’re h word <3

Pairing: c!Karl X Sub! Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Note: unedited* idk why I wrote this? I was just bored one night and couldn’t think of anything else to do.

- also don’t bully the title, LITERALLY couldn’t think of anything better!

- also I copied and pasted this from my notes instead of writing it on tumblr so that’s why it might look a bit weird or different!

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

Your head whipped around to stare blankly at the silly boy “what?” You spat out at him as he stared back dumbfounded “why’re you upset, is it because of me?” He poked your cheek innocently and you slapped his hand away.

“Yes! It is- go away!” You waved him off “please tell me what’s wrong! What did I do???” He started nagging at you and pulling at your clothes which annoyed you even more “stop it Karl!” You exclaimed “ah- sorry!” He pulled away and apologised “I just- I’m really annoyed right now!” Your face was tinted with what he thought was anger but was really embarrassment.

You knew how you got when you were horny and you knew the crabby attitude that you were portraying was just a front to hide how desperate you are. You crossed your arms and tried to take it off your mind, trying to avoid Karl as well.

“Come on sweetheart, what did I do wrong?” Karl caressed your cheek and you shivered slightly “don’t do that- I told you! I’m just annoyed!” You pushed him away “would it be better if I let you alone for a bit?” Karl got up to give you some space but you stopped him “Yes! Wait- no? Maybe? ugh- I don’t know!” You held your head in your hands.

Your thought process is literally fucked when you’re horny, most of the time you’re unable to think of things other than sex when you’re aroused. “Can I do anything to make you feel better?” Karl gave a sweet smile, you knew exactly how you wanted to answer that but hesitated.

“Maybe..” you considered whether or not to just straight out tell him, you’d expect him to tease you for being cranky over something so silly. “What can I do for you, honey?” Karl leaned back on the couch “you.. could..” you tried to think of something but your mind only led you back to one thing. Sex.

“AH! You’re a stupid nerd!” You shouted and then stomped off, you were obviously irritated and a bit annoyed but you didn’t wanna say or do anything that would actually be damaging. “Stupid? I’m literally the smartest person in the world” he joked around and you gave him a weird look.

“Aw come on! I thought you’d like that!” He lowered his head, you sighed in defeat. He was really trying to cheer you up even though he didn’t know what was wrong! You may as well tell him your problem, right? I mean he should be happy to help!

“What is it?” He noticed your sigh and came over to caress your face, you lowered your head and buried your face in his chest as you confessed sheepishly “I’m horny.” He gave out a little laugh “sorry- what?” He asked again “I’m.. horny!” Your face was full of embarrassment, you felt slightly humiliated.

“Is that all? I thought you were really upset with me for a moment!” He snickered, his lips pressing to your cheek for a moment. He straightened his back “alright then- we walking back to the bedroom or are you happy for me to take you here on the couch?” You pouted at his question, obviously you didn’t care where he stuffed his dick inside of you!

You didn’t bother to move so he just assumed you wanted to fuck on the couch, Karl got on top of you and started to lean in for a kiss. You snubbed him and turned your head, you still weren’t feeling happy with how long he took to figure out you were horny!

“Still mad? That’s alright, I’ll fuck the happiness into you! Or at least fuck the anger out” Karl kissed your temple lovingly “shut up” you tried not to smile at his silliness “make me!” Karl tried to kiss you again but this time you let him, his lips capturing yours in a passionate and loving kiss.

His lips were warm and soft, it made you melt underneath him- or the anger might just be melting you. You reached up and took a hand full of his hair, using it to deepen the kiss. Your tongue made its way into his mouth, the pink muscle slithering around every crevice of his mouth.

He pulled away for air, his face red and Karl’s hair sticking to his forehead. He was panting and starting to become really sweaty “aw gross! You’re all sweaty!” You complained but he laughed “oh baby, I know you love it!” He kissed your cheek again.

Karl unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off “it’s starting to really get hot in here” he sighed when the cold air hit his body. Karl then took your shirt off for you and inspected your body, the way he looked at it was like he’d never seen it before, like this was the last time and he’d never see it again.

You squirmed under his predatory like gaze “don’t stare at me like that, hun’ it’s making me feel exposed..” you complained lightly “oh I’m sorry darling, didn’t mean to make you feel ‘exposed’” he laughed to himself as he slowly leaned in and began leaving light kisses along your jawline.

You tilted your head back a bit to allow him more room, he smiled against your skin and began to suck a little bit as he kissed your jaw. His hands roamed your chest curiously, pinching and grabbing at the soft flesh. You whined out loud as he groped you up, hands clawing at the couch.

“Y-you’re taking too long..” you voiced your complaints, feeling slightly agitated at how he was testing your patience “just thought you might like a bit of foreplay, forgive me..” Karl caressed your cheek. You slapped his hand away and huffed “I’ll hurry it up now then, pants off please darling” he smiled at you.

You pulled your pants down your thighs and let it drop to the floor, thumbs hooking under the waist band of your underwear and sliding them off as well. Karl leaned back and admired your body, eyes glazing over every nook and cranny.

Karl gently parted your legs, his eyes immediately being drawn to your aching hole. “Oh darling, that looks painful.. let me help you” he lowered his hand down and allowed one of his slender fingers to curl up inside of you. You gasped and covered your mouth with your hand, eyes squinting to look at him.

“Is this too much?” He asked you, you shook your head and decided to be a bit of a brat “n-not enough.” You told him. Karl’s smile faltered for a bit but then returned when he shoved a second finger into you, your hole taking his hand so easily.

Your tight fleshy walls clenched around his two fingers, your breathing became a bit more heavy as you were starting to get close. “G-gonna cum..” you warned Karl “oh? Already? But I thought you wanted me to fuck you..” he pouted at you. You could see that he was obviously teasing you but you still gave him what he wanted.

You opened your legs up more and looked at him through your eyelashes, head tilting downward slightly “I want you to fuck me still..” you spoke quietly. Karl smiled and pulled his hand away from your hole which made you whine, you then quickly dismissed your negative feelings as he replaced his two fingers with his penis.

Karl slid himself into you gently, your hole already being stretched open- sucking him in. You leaned your head back and arched your back a bit, your hips aching from the hold that Karl had on them.

Karl gripped your hips tightly, starting to thrust against you. His balls slapped your ass with every thrust he did, the sounds of skin on skin echoing around the room. You hoped your disturbing noises wouldn’t be heard from outside.

You squealed and struggled to keep your mouth shut as Karl pressed himself deeper inside of you, the head of his cock pressing against your insides. Karl let out a soft groan as he rocked his hips against you, nails gently dragging along your thigh which left light scratch marks.

You couldn’t help letting out a loud moan, feeling much better letting it out than to conceal your pleasure. Karl started going faster the moment you started being more vocal which only encouraged you to stop being quiet.

You were sure the whole SMP could hear the two of you now, heaving sweaty bodies pressed to each other with the sounds of clapping and groaning in the room. Your hands wrapped around Karl’s torso, nails threatening to scratch his skin.

Tears pricked at your eyes gently as you felt what may have been the best orgasm of your entire life about to approach, you tapped Karl and tried to make it clear that you couldn’t hold on for him any longer and you had to let go “g-gonna cum!!” You exclaimed “that’s okay baby, do it for me..” he encouraged.

You let go, cumming around his cock. Juices from you started to leak out of your hole and onto your thighs, making you groan in annoyance “oh perfect.. Baby, you don’t mind if I get off with your thighs, do you?” Karl smiled up at you.

You shrugged and laid down, panting heavily as you tried to catch your breath, feeling a bit sensitive as Karl pulled out of you and slid himself between your legs. His dick slipped between both of your thighs closed together.

He started to fuck himself against you, now only thrusting for his own pleasure and enjoyment “oh thank you, baby..” he moaned out softly. His hands gripped onto your soft plushy thighs, his cock twitching against you which let you know he was about to cum.

Karl shuddered, his hips pausing their movement as he suddenly came; cum shooting out onto your thighs and covering a bit of your stomach. “Ah! Thank you!”Karl flopped on top of you, arms hugging your sweet body “No problem but I’m all dirty now!” You complained “I guess we’ll have to bathe together then, my dear” Karl chuckled before kissing your forehead and getting up to run you two a shower.

[absolutepokemontrash]

Request:

Could you do a scenario with the fankids (all of them). Maybe a spell gone wrong and all the bros turn into their familiar, and the kids have to look after them.

Please,

And thank you (if u do)

(I wrote a good chunk of this, and then Tumblr didn’t save it 🙃)

Familiar Familiars

“SNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE!”

“Quit freaking out, Ash, it’s just a little-“

“Get it away get it away get it away!”

The child of the ‘almighty and great’ Avatar of Greed was hopped up on Levi’s computer desk, pointing a shaking finger at the snake on the floor of the room. It was quite a lovely little thing, Cecil noted, sparkly blue and orange scales, the way it weaved so gracefully between heaps of discarded laundry and old snack wrappers. Ash on the other hand, was still screaming at poor Cecil to get it away.

“G-geez… calm down…” Cecil muttered under their breath while Ash continued to scream incoherently. Dropping to a knee, the half demon stretched their arm out towards the snake that was slithering towards the computer desk like a reptile on a mission. “Here snakey-snakey!”

“How the hell are you so calm about this?! It’s a snake!” Ash practically squealed as the snake twisted its way around Cecil’s arm. “They’re gross! And slimy! And don’t get me started on those weird little tongues-“

The snake stopped its movement, then seemed to almost droop… it hung its scaly little head in shame and coiled tighter around Cecil’s arm.

“Ash!” Cecil snapped. “Tell the snake you’re sorry! That wasn’t nice!”

“I’m not telling the snake I’m sorry.”

“Tell him, tell him right now.”

Ash raised an eyebrow, then slowly got off the desk and crossed their arms. “Fine, fine. I am, sorry.”

“Now,” Cecil put a finger to their lips and quietly hummed as they scanned the room. They had both been tasked by Lucifer to make sure Levi had actually eaten something before he started binge-gaming for the weekend, but there was no sign of the Avatar of Envy anywhere. “Where is Levi?”

Henry 2.0 provided no help, because he was a goldfish. He only swam around his massive tank.

“What was he even trying to play anyway?” Ash looked over at the bright screens of Levi’s triple monitor set-up. The same set-up that they had almost toppled in order to hop up on the desk in order to get away from the snake. “Oh… oh lord…”

“What is it?” Cecil asked, tilting their head.

Splayed out on the centre monitor, was a video game menu. Animal Invasion! The New Interactive Game! Could YOU Survive as an Animal?!

Cecil looked from the computer screen, to the snake that was now pointedly looking away from the desk and towards the door. “Levi…”

“What did you doooooooo?!”

—————————————

Venus nudged the door to Lucifer’s study open with their shoulder, balancing a box of pastries and desserts on their hip.

“Father, I brought eclairs, you want any?” Venus called out.

“SQUAAAAAAAAAAAWK!”

…what?

After a beat of confused silence, the half demon wrinkled their nose and turned to leave. “You don’t have to shout at me, Father, geez!”

There was a quick pitter patter of feet against the hardwood floor before Venus felt a sharp bite on their calf.

“AGH!” They grit their teeth and growled, fumbling with the massive box of pastries and trying to look down at whatever the hell had just bit them. “What the-“

A peacock, feathers as black as the vacuum of space, and eyes as sharp and red as- Venus smirked. “Aw, did father let you in?”

The peacock seemed almost offended, and then pecked Venus again. “Ow! Quit it! You’re a little asshole, huh?!”

The last comment must have figuratively and literally ruffled the bird’s fathers, because Venus received yet another peck.

“Father! Call your stupid bird off!” Venus looked up, only to see an empty desk. Huh… weird. The paperwork was neatly stacked on the desk, it looked halfway done, but the ink bottle was knocked over, spilling its contents all the way down the side of the desk. Venus grimaced, Lucifer must have left to clean that up, and then one of his asshole familiars snuck in…

“Oh dad…” They mumbled, dropping the pastry box on the couch in front of the fireplace before flipping the ink bottle right side up and shifting his papers over so they wouldn’t get more damaged. “Not a good day for you, huh?”

The peacock squawked again, Venus rounded on it and fixed it with a sharp glare. “Hey, you little cretin, don’t test me, I will throw you back outside.”

A harsh tapping against the massive window behind them caused Venus to turn back around, a familiar white crow was frantically tapping its beak against the glass. The half Pride demon snickered before opening the window.

“Hello to you too, Mammon.”

It was common knowledge amongst most of the denizens of the Devildom that the Avatar of Greed loved popping into his signature white crow form and dart around to cause mischief.

The crow splat down on the desk, clearly exhausted. The peacock tiredly walked over, it’s long tail feathers trailing behind it.

“Squawk!”

“Caw! Caw!”

“Human sound human sound, anyway,” Venus rolled their eyes. “Are you going to change back, Mammon?”

Crow-Mammon looked from the peacock, to Venus, and then began to frantically caw.

“I can’t understand you.”

“CAW!”

“Ah yes, that’s much clearer.” Venus said, the sarcasm in their voice impossible to miss.

The white crow smoothed down the feathers on its wings, then hopped up, dipping one of its feet into the spilled ink, and then nabbing one of Lucifer’s papers.

“Mammon! No! Lucifer’s gonna-“

“CAW!”

“JUST CHANGE BACK!”

The crow moved its ink covered foot across the page, even going back for refills, and whenever Venus tried to seat him away, they received a harsh peck from the peacock.

“SQUAWK!”

“Oh you be quiet!”

Finally, Crow-Mammon grabbed the paper and flew into the air, waving the ink-covered page in front of Venus’ face.

“What’s this supposed to-” Venus furrowed their brows as they looked over the sheet of paper.

CANT CHANGE BACK

The words definitely weren’t written by a calligrapher, but the messy, dripping letters got the point across. As Venus soaked in the message, they received another sharp peck from the peacock, their gaze flicked to the bird and their eyebrows shot up.

Mammon wasn’t the only one who could transform into his familiar…

“Oh… your… god…”

————————

“Do we have everyone?” Ash asked, slumping against one of the living room couches.

Cecil walked in, holding a very miffed looking scorpion in their cupped hands. “Yeah, almost, but we still haven’t found Beel…”

After finding out what exactly was going on, the kids had rounded up each of the brothers in their animal forms and plopped them in the living room. Cow-Belphie was curled up by the fireplace, taking what looked to be a very nice nap, Crow-Mammon was hopping from surface to surface, stopping every once and a while to angrily caw at Snake-Levi, who was curled up in a defensive ball on one of the armchairs. Scorpion-Asmo on the other hand, the moment he was deposited onto the coffee table, he managed to switch on Venus’ phone (which the half demon had discarded before plopping down next to Belphie) and get to the camera, before seemingly checking himself out.

“Yes, yes, Dad, you’re still very pretty.”

Well, Cecil found him cool looking at least. Scorpion-Asmo was a deep black colour, which changed to a bright eye-catching pink at the edge of his stinger and the tips of his claws.

Scorpion Asmo scuttled happily at the comment, and Cecil giggled.

A sharp neigh and a squawk from nearby made Ash turn and scowl at the scene in front of them.

“Oi, you two, knock it off!” Ash shouted at Peacock-Lucifer and Unicorn-Satan. Devildom Unicorns were nothing to scoff at. Unicorn Satan was a rich grey colour that turned deeper black when it reached his almost ghostly looking hooves. His mane and tail was a plume of bright green fire, and his head was encased in what looked like a helmet made of skull and bone. Very much not something out of The Last Unicorn. “Quit fighting or I’ll spray you both with the hose!”

Peacock Lucifer squawked at this, while Unicorn-Satan stamped one of his hooves and huffed. Ash rolled their eyes and looked over at Cow-Belphie, who looked more like a traditional bull, save for the dark purple fur. The tiny speckles of white in his coat shone against the light of the fire, making it look like they were twinkling stars in the night sky. Ugh, how Ash envied how peaceful he looked.

The buzzing of a few flies in front of them snapped Ash back into focus. They frowned and waved their hand in an attempt to bat the giant black flies away.

“Someone get the fly swatter…” Ash grumbled, and Cecil shrieked and practically flew across the room towards them, grabbing both of Ash’s wrists in a panic.

“NO! ANY OF THESE FLIES COULD BE BEEL!”

“Oh…” Ash’s stomach dropped. “Right…”

Another neigh sounded behind the pair, and Ash tiredly looked back over to see Lucifer pecking at Satan’s legs, and the Avatar of Wrath clearly winning and trying to trample the peacock. When Lucifer proved too agile, Satan lit a stream of hot green fire directly at Lucifer, lighting the tips of his tail feathers ablaze.

Cecil shrieked again and they and Ash rushed over to help Lucifer stamp out the flames. Venus on the other hand, was completely passed out next to Belphie. Ugh, traitors.

“Crazy idea, but, maybe we should call for some backup…” Ash offered as they looked down at Lucifer’s still smoking tail feathers.

“Yeah… g-good idea…” Cecil mumbled.

————————

“My dear little friends!” Diavolo’s booming voice echoed through the halls of the House of Lamentation. “What seems to be the matter?”

“The matter’s that I’m currently channeling my inner Maleficent and have a crow on my shoulder.” Ash replied, leaning against the leftmost staircase in the entrance hall.

Diavolo tilted his head. “But you love crows, and that’s Mammon.”

“And you could never channel Maleficent’s bad bitch energy.” Venus said with a yawn.

“N-no, the problem really is that my dad and uncles can’t change out of their familiar forms!” Ash sputtered, Mammon cawed angrily.

“Hmmm,” Barbatos put a hand to his chin and nodded to himself. “A spell gone wrong, perhaps?”

“No…” Cecil mumbled. “Levi’s video game did something to them, and we have no clue how to change them back…”

Snake-Levi slithered up Cecil’s arm and rested his head on their shoulder. Guilty guilty snake…

“Oh! A video game?” Diavolo clapped his hands. “Leviathan has been talking about a new release he’s been trying to get his hands on! Perhaps I could give the game a try and see if finishing it will fix things.”

A loud squawk from Peacock-Lucifer accompanied Diavolo’s footsteps rushing towards Leviathan’s room to play the game.

“Oh! Are you coming too, Lucifer?”

“SQUAWK!”

“Wonderful!”

The two disappeared up the stairs, leaving the kids and Barbatos in the entrance hall.

“So,” Barbatos turned to the children. “What needs to be done first?”

—————————

“Hahahaha! This is fantastic!” Diavolo shouted with joy as his fingers flew across the keyboard. All the practice with Levi was really paying off as he downed enemies left, right, and centre. “Don’t you think so, Lucifer?”

Lucifer was sitting nearby, and Diavolo never knew a peacock could look so done. He squawked, then shook his head.

“Oh, Lucifer…” Diavolo paused the game and gave him a half-smile. “What ever is the matter?”

Lucifer squawked again, then began to pick at his feathers.

“You’re still very pretty, Lucifer. Your feathers are just lovely, and your eyes are just as wonderful as before.”

Quick as a flash, Peacock-Lucifer’s black and red tail feathers were fanned out behind him. Diavolo laughed and clapped his hands.

“Wonderful, just wonderful!”

“SQUAWK!”

—————————

“Now now, Satan.” Barbatos tsked. “Don’t be snippy with me.”

Unicorn-Satan neighed and stamped his hoof against the grass in the backyard.

“Satan.” Barbatos flicked the unicorn on the nose. “Bad unicorn.”

Cecil covered their mouth and giggled behind Barbatos. “Do you often tame Unicorns, Barbatos?”

“Mmm, many years ago.” Barbatos said with a hum. “There’s a unicorn ranch a few hours outside of the city, perhaps I can take you to visit sometime.”

“R-really?! A unicorn ranch!? You can just say that so casually?!” Cecil gasped, a familiar scorpion scuttled across their shoulders.

“Do keep in mind, Cecil,” Barbatos said, a hint of caution in his tone. “These unicorns look more like Satan here, not the unicorns from the Celestial Realm.”

“THERE ARE UNICORNS IN THE CELESTIAL REALM TOO?!”

Barbatos chuckled and nodded, an action that was mimicked by Unicorn-Satan.

“They’re not any less aggressive up there, you know.”

“Hey uh, guys?” Venus poked their head into the backyard. “We got a problem with Belphie.”

———————

“He won’t come down the stairs…” Venus pointed up at the cow standing at the top of a staircase. “He’s… being weird.”

“Don’t you know that cows can’t go down stairs?” Ash said with an exasperated sigh.

“That’s not true.” Venus said with a huff. “They can come down stairs fine!”

“I think the real question is why did Belphie go upstairs in the first place?!” Cecil slapped a palm to their forehead.

Belphie mooed, then dragged his horns down on the railings, splintering the wood.

“Belphegor…” Barbatos grumbled and massaged his temples.

“Cows can’t go down stairs!”

“Yes they can!”

The bickering got louder and louder, and both Barbatos and Cecil were getting tired of it.

“You both have Google, don’t you?” Barbatos sighed. “Use your pho-“

A fly buzzed in front of Barbatos’ face, which he quickly attempted to swat away.

“WAIT!” All the children shouted. “THAT COULD BE BEEL!”

Barbatos froze and let the fly buzz around him, the insect was soon joined by multiple other flies. The butler looked over to the children with a raised eyebrow.

“Why are there so many flies in the house?”

Venus shifted uncomfortably where they stood. “I may have left the door open when I brought in the pastries.

“And where are the pastries?”

“We stress ate them over an hour ago…” Cecil mumbled.

Sighing again, Barbatos made his way up the stairs and began to attempt to coax Belphie down the stairs. “Come on, Belphegor, enough of this foolishness.”

“AHA!” A sharp cry of victory from Venus broke Barbatos’ concentration. “COWS CAN WALK DOWN STAIRS!”

“That’s wonderful, Venus, but could you please allow me to prove your point?”

“Sorry, Barbatos…”

——————————

The amount of flies in the House of Lamentation had grown to an almost unbearable level. The near constant buzzing had driven the occupants of the house absolutely mad, but not a single fly could be put outside or killed due to the fear that they might be dooming Beel to death.

“Kill… me…” Cecil mumbled as they lay spread out on the couch, trying to gently waft the flies away. Scorpion-Asmo scuttled angrily across Cecil’s chest and whipped his tail through the air, trying to smack down some of the flies.

“Come on, dad… leave them be… it might be Beel…”

“FINISHED!”

With a shout of victory, and a sudden flash of light, Asmo, fully back to normal, was lying on Cecil’s chest.

“DAD-“

“EEP!” Asmo fell off the couch and onto the floor with an ‘oomph’. “I’M BACK TO NORMAL!”

The flies still buzzed around the pair, none of them had dropped out of the sky and turned back into Beel.

Lucifer, angry as a thundercloud, and also back to normal stormed into the room, with a very happy Diavolo trailing behind him. Soon, the rest of the family, sans Beel, was back in the living room.

“Cows can go down stairs, Belphegor…” Barbatos snapped, Belphie gave him a lazy shrug in return.

“This one can’t.”

“You… are… incorrigible…”

“Oi, quit your yappin’!”

Belphie and Barbatos rounded on Mammon, who stood with his hands on his hips.

“This is all Levi’s fault because of his stupid video game!”

“The scumbag’s right…” Satan growled as everyone turned to Levi, who was in the middle of trying to sneak off down the hall. “This is all Levi’s fault…”

“W-w-wait!” Levi slowly raised his hands as his gaze darted from person to person. “Wh-uh… where’s Beel!? That’s more important than punishing me, right?”

“Your little stunt caused Beel to go missing, Leviathan…” Lucifer said, readying a long red rope and looping it around a hand. “That’s a very punishable offence.”

“I went missing?”

Everyone whirled towards the entrance to the living room, where Beel stood, holding boxes of take-out. “What happened?”

“BEEL!” Everyone shouted and rushed towards the bewildered avatar of gluttony.

“What happened?!” Cecil asked, tugging on his jacket.

“I’ve been out of the house all day…” Beel said hesitantly. “And um…”

Beel looked around. “Why are there so many flies..?”

“None… none of them were you..?” Belphie sputtered, his jaw dropping.

“No..?”

For a final time, everyone turned to the Avatar of Envy and shouted:

“LEVI!”

[kirieshhhka003]

Hi! So, I just read one of the prompts you did with diavolo x fem!reader and i loved it. It was really good!

Can I ask for prompt 110 " for your safety I'll be gentle" or 34 "I'm afraid I can no longer remain professional" (or both, your choice) with Bucciarati x fem!reader, please? 🤗💕

Omg omg omg, I had this idea sitting in my brain for a long time, you are a blessing!!!

Prompt 34: I’m afraid I can no longer remain professional

Pairing: teacher! Bruno Buccellati x fem! student! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, teacher/student dynamic, school sex, fingering, corruption kink, dirty talk, loss of virginity (?, with fingers, does that count?)

Professor Buccellati lets out an exasperated sigh, trying his best to keep a calm friendly expression in his handsome face, and you can’t help but look coyly at your knees, fingers fidget nervously with the hem of your skirt. He’s been trying to explain you this topic for half an hour now, man has tried every way of elucidation his mind could produce, but your brain stubbornly refuses to assimilate information that teacher gives you

Brunette takes off his glasses, massaging the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index fingers, his pretty eyebrows are knitter together

- Okay, don’t worry Y/n. I see that you understand this topic but you just need some time so your brain can process all the information. That’s enough for today, go and get some proper rest, - your teacher says, closing the book laying in front of you with a soft flop

You look at your teacher, disconnect glimmer in your eyes:

- No, signire Buccellati, I need to work more! I’ll have my first final next week, I can’t just sit around waisting my time! - you reply, hint of complaint in your tone. Brunette just sighs heavily, his eyes wander all over your sulky pretty face

- Y/n, I can see the dark bags under your eyes, when did you sleep properly? - man inquires, looking sternly, but still with a hint of softness in his gaze, like if he was scolding a toddler for their little mischief. You don’t find what to answer. But really, when? You can’t even remember the last time you slept over 4 hours

- That’s what I’m saying. Don’t overwork yourself, you need to relax. I’m sure that you know everything, and I know that you’ll do great on your finals, so get your mind off school for a little bit. Go to the caffe with your friends, watch some anime or what do teenagers do now? - professor says, making you smile at his last words

- I just can’t make myself relax. I’ve tried so many times, but none of my attempts worked. Even when I listen to music I subconsciously start to reiterate all the formulas. It seems like I’m slowly going insane. I just don’t know what to do to distract myself from studying, I’ve tried literally everything I could, - you confess quietly, suddenly you feel pity on yourself. Slowly losing your mind because of preparation for final exams - definitely not the life you wanted

Brunette stays silent for almost a minute before letting out a sigh, his voice drones on, cutting through the silence of the classroom

- Well, I have one idea on my mind, it may help, - man says in appealing tone, you raise your eyes from your knees on the man sitting next to you, your sight full of attention and hope

- Really? - you ask, note of disbelief in your voice makes older man smile placidly at your reaction

- Yes, but I’m afraid I can no longer remain professional with you then, - man replies, watching intently at your reaction on his words. You only nod aggressively a few times, ready to pick up on everything your teacher will say

You don’t understand much what’s going on when your teacher tilts your head by your chin to face him, the next moment his plump lips are pressed gently against yours, man’s hot breath tickles your cheeks. Your eyes widen and you bleat in protest, but signore Buccellati hushes at you, pulling back a little

- That’s okay Y/n, that’s part of the plan. I’m pretty sure it’s gonna work, you want me to help you, don’t you? - brunette utters hastily and his deep calm voice works wonders, turning you into a putty goo in brunette’s arms. You only nod silently, the expression on your face is kind of bewildered, bright blush adorns your cheeks. That makes your teacher smile with the corners of his mouth, his warm hand that was holding your head by the chin now caresses the side of your face

- That’s my good girl. So just trust me and try not to make too much noise, okay?

Your lips meet again, but this time the kiss is way more ardent and passionate. Professor Buccellati parts your lips with his tongue, shoving it inside of your mouth, trailing it along the raw of your teeth. You whimper quietly at older man’s manipulations, you put your slightly sweaty from nervousness palms on brunette’s shoulders, squeezing them faintly, eyes are shut tight, eyelashes flutter against your cheeks

Professor’s free hand lays atop of your thigh, gently tracing intricate patterns on your skin, causing goosebumps to rise. You rub your legs together feeling heat starting to gather in the bottom of your stomach, all the debauched sounds that your mouthes do turn both of you even more

- Sit on the desk, - your teacher rasps and you’re quick to obey, doing as you’re told and sitting yourself on top of the desk you’ve just sat at. Signore Buccellati soon splays your legs wide, nestling himself between them. Your lips meet again in a wet sloppy kiss, brunette’s hands roam your body, paying special attention to your breasts and hips

Older man leaves trail of kisses leading down to your neck, his lips softly caress your skin leaving you a whining mess in your teacher’s experienced arms. He unbuttons your shirt just enough to reveal your breasts, shifting your bra up a little to free your tender tits. Soon his lips play with one of your sensitive nipples, making you blush even harder. You nibble down on your bottom lip trying to suppress all the cries and whimpers coming from your throat, you subconsciously start rocking your hips upwards, trying to grind your groin against your teacher

Bruno’s hand makes its way down to your throbbing sex, his fingers glide slowly on your soft pussy covered with already dampening pink fabric

- Such a good little girl, already all wet for me, - professor Buccellati murmurs against your ear, his voice is velvety deep, you can’t help but open your legs wider giving man full access to your body

Your hands that were previously gripping on teacher’s shirt come higher, timidly embracing signore Buccellati by his broad shoulders. This bashful gesture makes man smile softly, he leans forward in your touch and your nuzzle your face into his neck, the sweet smell his perfume makes you feel even more dizzy

Professor nudges your clit through the fabric of your underwear, forcing thick mewl to escape your lips. He hushes at you softly, soothingly rubbing your lower back with his other hand

- Principessa, you gotta be quiet. Otherwise we’re gonna get caught, and that definitely won’t end up well, - teacher explains and you only nod at his words, nibbling harder into your bottom lip. Man places a quick kiss on your temple, his hands ruck your skirt up and you can feel his fingers hooking the elastic of your panties, tugging them down, easing your underwear down your legs, taking pink garment off of your body

Air of the classroom feels cold against your now exposed slicked folds and you unconsciously try to close your legs, but professor’s slim body between them doesn’t allow you to do so. Brunette’s index and middle fingers glide over your naked cunny, his touches are so light that you can barely feel them. You whine protestingly, bucking your hips upwards to feel your teacher caressing you properly

Signore Buccellati takes pity on you, finally giving in, his fingers part your slicked folds, making you shiver slightly. His thumb traces around your needy clit a few times before gently rubbing it, making you tighten your grip on his shoulders. Man presses his lips against your neck again, littering your skin with small kisses. Your back arches at the feeling of professor’s long finger carefully sliding inside of your virgin pussy. You let out a sweat moan, your toes curl at the newfound feeling of fullness and you cling on your teacher so desperately

Buccellati starts moving, burying his finger to the hilt in your velvety heat, and then fully slipping it out of your body, and then everything repeats. His lips find yours, capturing your bitten mouth in a deep fervid kiss to which you respond eagerly. Man puts his free hand on your shoulder, pushing you slightly, making you lay on the cold surface of the desk

Now professor’s strong figure is now crouched over your trembling form, he places his hand on the desk next to your head propping himself up, while the other one works in between your thighs, pleasuring your stressed tiny body. Signore Buccellati’s face is just in a few inches away from yours, he looks intently at you, reveling in your every smallest reaction, exploring every pretty feature of you. Soon his eyes stop right on yours, making an eye contact, what causes you to blush even harder

You feel your teacher slowly adding second finger, breaching your tender cunny, making you squeal beneath him. His digits stretch your inner walls, setting your mind to the state of euphoria. Professor’s fingers find some special place inside of you, rubbing it with every experienced thrust, all while his thumb works on your clit. Your eyes roll into your skull, and you’re just about to cry out your teacher’s name but you quickly shut yourself up, slapping your hand over your mouth, muffling drooly moans

A shiver runs through your body at the feeling of signore Buccellati’s fingers curling up inside of you. Tears of pleasure run down your temples, getting lost in your hair, your thighs start trembling as you feel warmth suffusing you. Professor quickens the jutting of his hand, slamming his fingers in and out of your needy body

Pleasure comes in waves, crashing over you like a tsunami. You bite down on your fingers, trying your best not to moan as professor works out your orgasm, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers praises and sweet nothings. Your free hand grips on teacher’s shoulder, probably crumpling his navy blue shirt up, but both of you could care less

Professor doesn’t slip his fingers out of your quivering cunny, gently massaging your inner walls as you slowly get off your high. When your brain finally comes back to work you look at your teacher’s handsome face, his lips are curved into satisfied leer as his ocean blue eyes look hypnotically at you, hint of mischievousness sparkle in them

Well, signore Buccellati sure did help you to take your mind off of school

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