#their part in the story already done? so I can only expect them to graduate when the new stage is announced ;; | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tsuki-xoxo · 7 months ago

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐔.𝐀.

⚘. playlist: Monster by Paramore

"Her hands were stained with blood no matter how hard she scrubbed, it would never be clean. She knew that. Sora knew that. Hell, the entire country knew that. She was a criminal by birth. A ticking time bomb. An animal."

cw | bullying and discrimination, Minori's past traumas getting the absolute best of her, projection | 2.3k

M.LIST | ᗢᘏᓚ | TAGLIST | ᓚᘏᗢ. II

Minori's fingers brushed over her wrist. A shiver rippled through her as the purple welt deepened over her brown skin like a birthmark. While everyone else at U.A. wore the standard uniform, Minori was cursed to bear her very own villainous symbol for as long as deemed necessary.

Despite Nezu’s willingness to give her a chance, the rest of the world was not as forgiving. Outside Thanatos, she was permitted to roam only with this brand on her arm. It was a mark from Sora's Quirk, Prismatic Touch. It was to stop her instantly if needed by sending paralyzing waves through her nerves. After all, she is a criminal, right?

Minori’s grey eyes flickered to Nezu. His expression remained neutral as his gaze followed her fingers. “If it were up to me, I would not have imposed this on you,” he sighed and rubbed his snout. “However, the Hero Commission has its own views, and the rest of the world follows their lead. They believe you will turn out just like your mother.”

Minori bit her lip. It was difficult to keep her expression stoic as her heart sank into her chest. So, that’s what they see: an animal to be branded—a ticking time bomb. She glanced at Sora beside her; her deep-blue eyes softened in an attempt to offer a comforting smile. “You know,” Sora said gently and gestured to her own violet-hued skin. “People say purple is a very fashionable color.” Minori scowled and pulled the sleeve of her uniform down to cover the grotesque mark.

Minori didn’t blame Nezu or Sora for the mark. She couldn't, not after all they've done for her, but fuck if it didn't feel like the world was waiting for her to fail. She clenched her fists. The swirl of emotions within her threatening to spill over in a tumultuous wave. Swallowing the bitterness rising in her throat, she focused on Nezu's words. “Without this mark,” she nodded to herself, “I won’t be able to study here, at U.A.”

“Correct.”

“I won’t be able to become a hero.”

Nezu clasped his paws together on his desk. “That’s right.”

“Okay,” Minori replied, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside. “I understand.” Sora moved closer and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“I know that this may be hard for you, and it's certainly not the ideal way to start off the semester, but the Hero Public Safety Commission won't budge,” Sora said and rubbed her shoulder. “You have a chance here at U.A. to show the world who you truly are. You can do it and I'll be there to help you the whole way.”

Minori blew a curly bang from her face and nodded.

“Alright,” Nezu leaned back in his chair and gestured towards the door. A slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, his whiskers twitching. “Shall we head to class?”

“Yeah,” Minori grumbled, “let’s get this over with.”

U.A. is the world's leading academy in teaching prospective heroes how to control their Quirks. Its students and faculty are the best in their fields, and its graduates are often employed by the highest-ranking hero agencies. The school's reputation and influence have grown to such an extent that U.A. is commonly referred to as the "School of Heroes." Now, Minori has a chance to be part of it.

Nezu accompanied them to her new class. No one had expected to take too much, but here they were, walking to her first day of class, already five minutes late. Minori glared at her feet as they walked. It was one thing to be accepted into U.A. a week after the semester began, but a whole other story to arrive late, branded as the daughter of a villain—the girl who was destined to become the same.

“That’s not a good look for a hero,” Sora chided lightly.

“I don’t need you escorting me. I’m not going to hurt anyone,” she grumbled, a bitter undertone in her voice. Minori had never been good at expressing how she felt. What’s the point if she was going to be dismissed or punished? Even Sora, who has been the only light her last six years at Thanatos, struggled to break down her walls. It was better that way—easier. Her hands were stained with blood no matter how hard she scrubbed, it would never be clean. She knew that. Sora knew that. Hell, the entire country knew that. She was a criminal by birth. A ticking time bomb. An animal.

“I know you’re not, Minori,” Sora sighed.

The rest of the walk was quiet between the trio. They finally came to a halt in front of a door with the label “Class 1-A” written in bold red paint across it. She stared at the door, hearing the murmurs of students. She swore she heard someone say: “looks like I’ll have fun crushing you.” Her heart thudded against her ribcage.

“We’re here,” Nezu announced. “Are you ready?”

Minori took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She could do this. “I promise I won’t kill anyone—at least not today,” she added, her tone sarcastic in an attempt to mask the butterflies crashing against her ribcage.

“Alright,” Nezu grinned, already taking a step back as if he anticipated this, “Good luck, and welcome to U.A.”

Sora gave Minori’s shoulder one final reassuring squeeze before they entered. Minori balled her hands in her pockets and kept her head down, refusing to look at anyone. The voices inside the room stopped. She stood in front of the homeroom teacher’s desk, but found no one there. She furrowed her brows and glanced at the clock on the wall: 8:25 AM. They were late, but where was the teacher?

She felt the weight of all eyes on her, scrutinizing her every move. She was like a cell trapped under a microscope. The longer she stood there without introducing herself, the more the class began to murmur.

“Who is that?”

“Do we have a new teacher or something?”

“I thought everyone had arrived already.”

“Why is she so late?”

“She looks scary.”

Minori grimaced at the last statement. Who the hell were they to be talking about her, to be judging her every move?

“Who the hell is this extra?” a boy snarled, lounged in his seat with his feet kicked up on the desk.

The tense silence grew until a tall, stiff student reprimanded the ash-blond. "You're being incredibly rude! Especially here at U.A.—"

“Oh!” a round-faced girl with bangs interrupted. “Sorry for being so rude. My name is Uraraka Ochaco, and you?”

Minori had every intention of ignoring everyone in the room until she felt a gentle jab beside her. Reluctantly, she turned toward the source of the nudge and saw Sora standing there, wiggling her eyebrows expectantly. Minori frowned and rolled her eyes. “Ki Minori,” she stated flatly and stared at Uraraka, eyes void of any emotion.

A soft squeal echoed from the back of the classroom. Minori locked eyes with the culprit. His vibrant green eyes quivered as he stammered in a hushed whisper: “Y-you’re the daughter of the infamous villain, Tatsumaki.” She glared at the boy, satisfied by the squeak of terror the student had let out. His eyes trembled as he cowered, throwing his hands over his mouth.

Twenty pairs of eyes bore into her. Some had a look of interest; others were confused; the majority, however, were filled with horror. Of course, someone would recognize it: that cursed last name—Ki. A cold shiver rippled down her spine as the silence thickened. She had half a mind to tell them all off, but she swallowed the words that threatened to slip. Of all the pairs of eyes that stared her down, the most interesting were crimson eyes that almost seemed annoyed and… disinterested. The pair of eyes belonged to the ash blond-haired male from earlier. His look wasn’t any different from a person watching paint dry. A simple observation, and yet it was new.

Minori had always been judged before the paint had even dried.

This was different. Nice.

For a fleeting moment, their eyes met. His eyebrows knitted together, and his lips curved into a slight pout. She assessed him as though he were competition or prey, and he observed her in return. His eyes were a deep red, like lava in the center of a volcano.

The door swung open, slamming against the wall. The entire class jumped. “Go somewhere else if you want to play at being friends. This is the hero course,” a man mumbled from the floor outside the classroom door. He was in a yellow sleeping bag, and his eyes drooped as if he had just woken up. He pulled out a juice pouch and drank the contents.

Minori blinked slowly. Did the school hire a homeless man?

After finishing the pouch, he stepped out of the sleeping bag and into the classroom. He wore all black, and his long, unkempt black hair fell over his shoulders. He looked as though he hadn't slept in a year.

Sora leaned near Minori and whispered, "That's your homeroom teacher, Aizawa Shouta."

Minori's eyebrows shot up. This is the hero course's homeroom teacher? The pro-hero Eraserhead?

"Aizawa," Sora bowed her head slightly. "It's nice to finally meet you. I am Ten Sora, Minori's guardian."

"Likewise," he grumbled and looked over to Minori.

Minori squinted at the pro-hero. She didn't trust him. She didn't trust any of the faculty here—besides Sora—not after everything she had gone through. She could count on her hands the number of times she'd had a positive interaction with an adult. Who knows what kind of things he had heard about her.

"Welcome," he greeted. "Everyone, let me introduce you all to our new classmate, Ki Minori. She has just joined our class and is a bit late because of certain circumstances."

"Circumstances? Like what?" a boy with a black streak in his hair asked.

"Yeah," another boy chimed, his two-toned hair split in half with the right side red and the left white. "Are you really qualified for the hero course?"

A few others joined in, voicing their concerns. Minori bit the inside of her cheek. These people really didn't hold their tongue, did they? She wasn't going to get off on the right foot with any of them, not that she expected to.

Aizawa sighed and waved the class to be quiet. "Yes. We have discussed her entrance with Principal Nezu. Minori will be joining us, and that's final. I hope I won't have to repeat myself."

"I know some of you may feel concerned, but please, don't be," Sora interjected. "She is no threat, and I have personally vouched for her entrance. Please treat her like a regular student, and I'm sure you'll all get along fine."

"Regular? Ribbit." The voice belonged to a short girl with large, black eyes, a mop of dark green hair, and a frog-like appearance. "She's not a regular student. She's a criminal, and I don't think it's fair to us and the school to accept someone with that kind of history. To be honest, I'm not entirely comfortable with someone like her around."

"Someone like her," Minori echoed. "How kind." She turned away from the frog girl. She wasn't wrong. Minori was a criminal, and the entire country, including her, knew that. It wasn't a secret. The whole world knew her mother destroyed an entire city and saw how she did nothing to help. The whole world saw how she let her mother run away. How could the school let someone like her into their hallowed halls? Was it so they could be the first to stop her if need be? The Hero Commission didn't take a liking to her. They had branded her, marked her as a villain, and were already waiting for her to screw up.

"Minori," Sora chided. "Let's not give anyone here a reason to doubt your intentions."

She grumbled under her breath. Her existence was reason enough for these people to have doubts. Whatever, she didn't care. She couldn't afford to care. She wasn't here to make friends. She was here to learn and train. She was here to prove the world wrong and to show them who she really is.

Turning to address the students, Sora reassured them. "I can assure you all that Minori is a kind and gentle soul, like the rest of you. And for added peace of mind, I am her guardian and will intervene if necessary, along with Aizawa here." She placed a hand on Minori's shoulder, promising the class, "You have nothing to worry about."

"That's enough of that," Aizawa interrupted. "Ki is a student of Class 1-A. I don’t want to hear anything more. Time is limited. Change into your hero costumes and gather in Ground Beta."

Minori followed her class to the locker rooms to change. Thankfully, she didn’t have to stand any longer in front of twenty piercing pairs of eyes. Now, it was just a few burning stares from the girls. She didn’t actually have the luxury of owning a hero costume. However, as she changed, the brand on her wrist felt like a weight dragging her down. Her fingers brushed against the violet welt, and a shiver rippled through her.

“That’s an interesting mark you have there,” Minori snapped her head up with wide eyes. The pink-skinned girl gave her a small, warm smile. “Is it a birthmark?” She didn’t seem the slightest bit afraid, cautious, or disgusted. It was refreshing. Yet, a pang of unease gripped Minori's chest as she glanced around at the hostile glares that surrounded her.

“Don’t worry about it,” Minori gritted and slammed her locker shut. She stalked out of the room. An indescribable feeling pushed its way into her, boiling underneath the surface.

She had an ulterior motive. They all do.

M.LIST | ᗢᘏᓚ | TAGLIST | ᓚᘏᗢ. II

♡tagged♡ @yogurtsdayout

#bakugou fanfiction #bakugou x oc #bnha fanfiction #bakugo x oc #mha #bnha #bnha oc #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader #rebirth

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soulfullives · 2 years ago

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queerdeadwizards' fic rec list

(a/n: if you do not see my friends' fics on here, it's because i am making a fic rec list where there are no fics of my friends; i might be subjective, and i am friends with amazing writers, so you can safely assume that i am recommending all of their fics.)

Sunflowers & Sweetpeas by katialena

Language: English, WIP. Current Word Count: 7,462

Found Family takes a lot of work, but there is always room for one more. Even while teenage romance gets... complicated?

Texting/Social Media Fic Part Three. In Progress.

marginalia by spindrifters

Language: English, WIP. Current Word Count: 192,506

This story began a long time ago. That part is already written. Nothing can be done about it now. It began with two young men—barely more than boys—who upended the world, magical and mundane alike. Grindelwald and Dumbledore, glorious leaders of the revolution, who brought wizardkind out of hiding and into the light during those last, violent days of 1899.

But a winter's night seventy-seven years later is where things really kick off.

Because Remus Lupin knows what to expect when you’ve been sold somewhere new. He knows it better than he ever thought he'd have to by this point. He knows how to survive. And Sirius Black is doing his best to just graduate Hogwarts and get himself and his brother away from this goddamn house. He's got it figured out by now. He has a plan.

Neither of them, however, had accounted for the other messing everything up by the mere fact of just existing.

(Or, the one where Sirius is heir to a pureblood first family and Remus is a half-blood servant, but a chance meeting leads to healing old wounds, stumbling into love, and just maybe accidentally kickstarting a revolution.)

you wouldn’t like me by crushofdoves

Language: English, WIP. Current Word Count: 20,339

It’s 2005 and Sirius is trying to figure out his gender, his brother, and his new crush.

My Only Sunshine by Loua29xx

Language: English, Completed Work. Word Count: 28,973

“Sirius Orion Black, you are charged with the murder of Remus John Lupin,” Sirius draws in a shaky breath at the name, “in regards to this offence, do you plead guilty or not guilty?”

Guilty.

*******

Standing trial for the murder of the man he loves most in the world, Sirius can’t help but look back on his time with the light of his life. His sunshine.

#can't stop reccing mos because even though you need to be mindful of the tags it was absolutely beautiful and sould crushing #soul*#all of the other fics are beautiful too #i will do another fic rec list once i start reading more 😭😭#marginalia #you wouldn't like me #my only sunshine #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #wolfstar fic recs #harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry #drarry fic rec #fic recs

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motownfiction · 4 months ago

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sweet like a chic-a-cherry cola

note: this vignette also firmly takes place between two consenting adults, aged 26 and 33

Paul is slow-moving for a man in his thirties. He and Emma have been on four dates already, and all they’ve done is kiss a little. He didn’t even kiss her until their third date, only five days ago, which was mostly a disaster. Emma hadn’t been expecting it, so she kissed him back with the exact pressure one uses to kiss the top of a baby’s head.

Tonight, though, she was ready. As it happens, so was he. They’ve been lying on top of his duvet for half an hour, just kissing and giggling, almost like they’re getting away with something. Paul pushes Emma’s hair out of her face and laughs a little more.

“What’s so funny?” Emma asks.

“Nothing,” Paul says. “Just … I guess I wish I knew you when I was a teenager.”

“Well, considering I would have been eleven when you graduated from high school, I don’t actually think that’s something you want.”

“OK, but you know. I wish we’d been teenagers at the same time. That way … we could have done this way sooner. Skipped to the good parts by now.”

“Are these not good parts?”

“They are, but …”

Emma pulls Paul closer to her face and kisses him like she’s never kissed anybody. It’s easy with him, and that’s not just because at five-foot-eight, Paul’s the only man she’s ever been able to kiss without standing on a stepstool. It was like she didn’t know how kissing was supposed to feel until tonight. All the other kisses with all the other men had been … clinical. Experimental (for them). Cold (for her). She felt obligated to them in ways she doesn’t feel to Paul. When it’s Paul, she wants it more than she’s ever wanted anything. He’s here. Flesh, blood, and warmth. His kisses make her feel alive. Not going through the motions. Alive.

“You can have all the parts,” she says. “If you want them … they’re yours.”

Paul grins like he’s been waiting all his life for someone to say that. He pulls her closer still, and he kisses her with a force he didn’t even know he was capable of. He’d been kissing girls since he was nineteen (though never with as much frequency as maybe he would have hoped), but it was never like this. Never so … wanted. Dreamt of. He spent hours thinking about Emma, about how he knows exactly what The Platters mean by “My Prayer,” about how he’s not sure he could ever live a day without knowing her again.

How could it be? How could it be that for more than three decades of breathing in and out, in and out, Paul didn’t know Emma O’Connor existed? How could it be that it still took them almost two years to get here? For so much of his life, he’s been running in place, afraid that if he catches up to someone, he’ll lose sight of all the things on the horizon, everything in his periphery. But Emma sees the world as he does–in stories, in goals, in dreams. And when she kisses him, he remembers that his body is for more than just walking from place to place or for working harder than he actually can. He remembers that he is blood.

So much blood.

Everywhere it should be.

He feels himself start to leave–not because he wants to, but because it’s his instinct. Flight. Always flight. Get out of there as soon as you can.

But then, he sees Emma’s eyes. Blue and impish. Perfect.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” she says, gentler than she’s ever been. “I want you here.”

Paul can’t even smile. He just cups Emma’s face in his hands again and kisses her. Desperate. Feeling younger than he really is. Has he mentioned the desperation?

“I want to be here,” he says, not sure which one of them needs to hear it more.

“I want you here,” Emma says again, between frantic kisses, like Paul’s going to change his mind. “I want–mmm–I want you.”

That does it. He’s all blood now. He begins to unbutton his shirt–why did he wear an oxford tonight?--but she tears it off. They’ll deal with it later. He still has on a white t-shirt, and she’s wrapping herself around him like a little cobra.

“You should only wear this,” Emma says.

“Only wear what?”

“T-shirts. Especially when they dip down below the neck like this.”

She takes the scoop near his Adam’s apple and pulls it down into a V.

“There,” Emma says. “I want to see more of your chest hair.”

Paul laughs.

“Do all women ogle men’s chest hair like it’s cleavage?” he asks. “Or is that just a you thing? Because you do it a lot.”

“I don’t think it’s just a me thing. But it is important to me.”

She kisses his chest, right between where her fingers are still making that V.

“I want you there,” she says.

“Good,” he says, then silently curses himself for sounding so lame. “Can I show you where I want you?”

Her eyes light up. She was afraid that he’d get insecure and pull back, like he usually does. Paul almost never initiates kisses or hand holding or any sign of affection. He’s just not used to it. Emma tries not to grudge him, but tonight is different. She can feel it in her blood. What a comeback.

“I might die if you don’t.”

Paul’s eyes gleam in a way Emma has never seen from him before. She’s always thought he was cute. Sweet. Approachable in a dorky sort of way. But this … something’s happened. Something’s happened, and she realizes in less than a full breath that she could love him. Maybe she already does. He puts his arms around her and places her flat on her back again. His hands snake up her little blue dress and land on her thighs.

“I want you here,” he says, voice thick and nervous, but there. Not silent. “Is that OK?”

Emma takes a long breath. After years of nursing the world’s biggest crush on him, after years of falling in love with him, what else does he expect her to say?

“Yes.”

#drabble #writeblr #food #drink #ch: emma o'connor #ch: paul donnelly #year: 2021 #not me trying to figure out who the hot one is between paul & mack!

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francescacollie · 1 year ago

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( olivia cooke, cisfemale, she/her ) have you met francesca collie yet? you know, the 26 year old graduate student majoring in secondary education with a focus in drama. ring a bell yet? every time i walk past their dorm i hear heart it races by dr. dog blasting through the door. everyone who meets them say they’re admirable but can also be a little invasive. guess when you meet them you’ll figure that out yourself. — carita, 24, she/her, est, triggers: sexual harrassment/sexual assault

meet francesca ‘franny’ collie!

FULL NAME: Francesca (Franny to close friends) Joanne Collie

AGE: 26 years old

BIRTHDAY: December 24th

GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cisfemale, she/her

SEXUALITY: Heterosexual

POSITIVE CHARACTERISTICS: Witty, sweet, generous, intelligent, outgoing

WEAKNESSES: Nosy, stubborn, pessimistic, blunt

THE STORY SO FAR ...

(trigger warnings: terminal illness, hospitals, substance abuse)

Francesca is originally from a small town in suburban Massachusetts. She is the youngest in her family, having two older brothers and a twin brother born 5 minutes earlier than her.

She was born with a genetic disease called cystic fibrosis, and initially only expected to live to be about 5 years old, but through medical advancements and participating in sports as a child, she was actually fairly healthy throughout her childhood. Most of her friends at school didn’t even know she was sick.

She lived a very cushy, privileged life, in part due to her parents wanting to give her everything they could, as well as the fact that she grew up in a moderately wealthy household, so money was never much of a worry. Two of her older brothers were highly protective of her and would do anything for her, whereas her twin brother deeply resented her for constantly being the center of attention, and was quite cruel to her growing up.

Her brother’s cruelty came in part because he was deeply struggling with mental health issues and substance abuse issues. Because the focus was always on Franny, his parents did not realize the issues he was dealing with, and instead admonished him for his behavior.

Throughout high school, Franny excelled in almost every way. She truly had an almost perfect life. Smart and athletic, whatever she set her mind to, she believed she could accomplish. She did nearly every extracurricular you could think of, from soccer to running track, and her personal favorite, theatre.

In college, Franny decided to major in both theatre and drama. She wanted to pursue acting on Broadway, or potentially try to make it as an actress in LA, where she planned on going to after Radcliffe.

Her dreams were cut short when her health quickly deteriorated after being on her own for so long. Growing up in a small town with an overbearing family, she was used to having a lot of things done for her. Taking care of her health felt like a full time job, and it didn’t take long for her to suffer the consequences of neglecting her health. She eventually moved back home and was able to recover enough to graduate with her degree online, but with serious consequences, and was no longer fit enough to chase her dreams to New York or bring herself to come to a casting in LA.

After stabilizing a bit and getting her act together somewhat, she decided she did not want to stay back home living with her parents. So, instead, she decided to move back to Radcliffe and pursue higher education. A benefit of this was that her brother already was there, so she could feel more supported and not completely on her own. She is pursuing her degree in drama education now that she has essentially given up on her true dream of being an actress herself, while also trying to figure out how to thrive in the fast life as a disabled woman. She’s resentful of her past as well as her brother, who she continues to clash with at times, but also itching to figure out what she really wants at this time in her life, and take a break from always trying to be so damn perfect. after all, life is short, right?

ADDITIONAL INFO:

Francesca is generally an empathetic and generous person. Her heart is rarely in the wrong place. However, growing up privileged and in many ways, babied by her family sometimes results in her having a hard time connecting with and understanding people from a different walk of life. She is very sensitive and empathetic to certain experiences, but struggles to connect with others.

She likes to be the center of attention ... but not for the wrong reasons. She’d much rather show off the abilities she does have, rather than focus on what she lacks. Because of that, she can appear a bit pissy and even bitter at times, but she's never truly mean. When she finds herself in trouble, she will absolutely use her situation to her advantage when it benefits her. She might have struggles, but she's used to getting a lot handed to her throughout her life and needs to be humbled sometimes.

She’s lonely, but won’t admit it (most of the time). She craves affection from others in her life, be it a friend or a romantic partner, and really just wants to know the people she finds interesting better. Sometimes this results in her coming off as a little (okay, a lot) nosy.

She is a lover of all things nature. Loves plants and flowers. But she kills everything in her care. No green thumbs over here.

She is a massive foodie and really enjoys every type of cuisine, but definitely has a taste for fine dining.

Because she spent most of her life being somewhat self-absorbed into her appearance, she’s acquired quite the collection of clothes. Her style is very ecletic and feminine, think large colorful sweaters, tights, Mary Jane heels, and funky earrings. But she's terrible at makeup and usually just sticks to the basics.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

Her twin brother! I’ll submit this as an official WC, but the only real criteria that needs to be filled is that he’s older than her, grew up in MA, and has struggled with substance abuse in the past (currently is fine as well). It’s a relationship I’m hoping to develop more and figure out along the way. Also, if an older brother would be preferred, we could work that out as well.

People she has collaborated with before: this could be someone she was in a play with for undergraduate, a student, a fellow TA (she helps teach drama), anyone that she's done anything with for her degree(s).

An unlikely friend: this is one of my favorite plots! Someone that comes from a completely different walk of life, have different struggles they are facing, but somehow get along and have a genuine friendship with one another. Someone who is more closed off and brooding compared to her unassuming personality is what I think of.

An ex-boyfriend - someone she left behind when she first left Radcliffe in her undergrad to move back home when she was very sick. Most likely a mutual breakup.

A former or current roommate from college: this could really go anywhere, but an easy connection for them to know one another/be friends

Anything else you can think of!

Also - I haven't gotten the invite to the OOC blog yet but hi, I'm Carita! I am an oldie from the RP community (started around 2014 I think?) and haven't in yeeeears but I'm so excited to again! I am still getting acquainted with the newest Xkit and whatnot so I may ask someone for help if I run into issues if anyone is willing, hehe. But I love plots and am super open so feel free to message me anytime!

#radcliffeintro #intro #francesca

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rosethornewrites · 11 months ago

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Over a decade ago, I graduated with an MFA in creative writing focused in fiction. I discovered that graduate school is mentally and psychologically draining and I had a mental health crisis during it.

It wasn’t just the workload, or the fact that they gave me the 7am classes to teach for 2 years (idk who I pissed off) while having grad classes that ended at 9pm. Or the fact that despite teaching I didn’t receive tuition remission.

No, the last year was especially bad because the university lost the professor I had come to work with because they disrespected them, and the other guy I was working with suddenly got a movie deal and his books translated into like 26 languages and he didn’t need to live in that shithole city anymore.

That left the narcissist, who I thought would be a good chair because he’s also part of the lgbtq+ community and I was writing queer lit.

Alas, he was not. He was an abusive jerk who once went on a rant in class because a few students were turning in drafts not ready for feedback, and so he felt the need to tell the entire class that none of us would ever get published. Who was the only fiction writer left to chair my committee, but who outright told me he didn’t “have time” to read my thesis. Who, when I emailed him a week in advance to ask for a letter of support for a grant, also sent me a response that he didn’t “have time.” Who wouldn’t sit down with me and talk about what he expected of my thesis (even length). In my mind I called him Douchebag McWhinypants.

One time he let an undergrad take our grad-level workshop. When she made an undergraduate mistake of writing outside her culture without enough research, we as her classmates were gentle in discussing why this was problematic in her short story. Unfortunately she was writing into the professor’s culture, and so when we were done he tore this poor little undergrad a new asshole. It ended with her crying in the bathroom and never coming back. One of the ugliest things I’ve ever seen, and certainly cast a pall over the rest of the semester.

At one point I found myself standing on the 4th floor of an open-air building, thinking about jumping, and I immediately went to the counseling center for help.

I figured if he wasn’t going to support me in any way, I didn’t want him on my committee. So I got the paperwork to kick him off and took it to the CW chair after filling it out. She was shocked I already had it filled out, and became my new thesis chair.

During my graduate reading, she introduced me with a lovely letter written by the person I had moved to work with, who was then gone. Meanwhile the narcissist introduced my classmate by talking solely about himself.

As a result, I haven’t picked up my partial novel/thesis, though I want to. It really made me doubt my own fiction writing abilities. Part of why I write fanfiction is an attempt to heal.

I’ve since published a couple of original short stories and a fuckton of poetry—well over 100 poems and a chapbook.

What I learned from this experience was how NOT to treat students. It was sadly not the only experience that taught me this.

Undergraduate and graduate school can be traumatizing experiences, particularly for queer, bipoc, and neurodivergent people.

It’s been over a decade and I’m honesty still dealing with it.

Douchebag McWhinypants is of course still teaching.

#writing #mfa #cn suicide ideation #trauma

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5sosfanfictioncatalogue · 1 year ago

Text

AO3 Fics (2) Masterlist

part one

Cards Are Dealt - @ashtcnirwin (elivigar) luke/ashton E, 100k

Summary: “You wanna… date me?” he asks eventually, when the silence is starting to feel loaded. “I don’t date and even if I did, I definitely wouldn’t be interested in dating you. I’d say no offense, but… full fucking offense.”

Ashton snorts. “Don’t flatter yourself, pumpkin, I have no interest in dating you either. Actually, the thought alone is exhausting and a little nauseating.”

Clenching his jaw, Luke grinds his teeth and shakes his head. “Then what do you want from me?”

“Sex. I already said that.”

A story about wants and expectations branching out and evolving without the knowledge or consent of those they belong to.

dream makes the sounds (that carry me so far away) (ao3) - kaleidoscopeminds luke/calum M, 36k

Summary: Luke's just got to California, on a trip to get away from his life for a while. Calum might be there for the same reason. When a chance meeting pushes them together, Luke might get more out of the four-week road trip than he ever imagined.

Eighteen (ao3) - boomercal luke/ashton E, 56k

Summary: Eighteen-year-old Luke is done putting up with his father and brothers so he takes his father's Corvette and credit card to track down Ashton Irwin. Who graduated a few years ahead of him and has a reputation for smoking, drinking and sleeping around; surely he'll be enough to make his dad meet his demands... right?

Energy Drinks, A Black Cat& Other Signs of Vampirism (ao3) - Headgehog_Louis007 michael/calum, luke/ashton T, 80k

Summary: "What? it's just garlic bread."

"Aren't vampires like.. I mean.. don't they not like garlic?"

A fic in which Michael is a vampire and every trope about vampires is wrong.

Green Light (ao3) - SpencerKnight ot4 E, 181k

Summary: Class is an age old concept--almost as old as the concept of human slavery, and in a world where buying humans is a standard behavior by those who can afford it, Luke's only hope as a member of the lower class is that he falls into the hands of a decent buyer--the hands of Ashton Irwin and his partners. Luke knows he has one chance to please his buyers or he risks getting put back on the market, but he's thrown for a loop when Ashton admits that Luke is the one that gets to call the shots. In an attempt to find security with the trio, Luke braces himself and gives them the green light to do whatever they want with him.

He had no idea they would refuse.

Heartache in the Director's Chair (ao3) - Emmybazy luke/calum T, 19k

Summary: Calum wants to make it as an actor. His world gets turned upside down when Ashton Irwin, the executive producer, casts him to play the lead in a movie with the famous actor, Michael Clifford directed by Hollywoods golden boy director, Luke Hemmings. Luke Hemmings' reputation of being cool, calm, and collected precedes him, so why is he treating Calum so oddly?

Or; Luke is smitten by Calum and Calum is oblivious. They make a movie.

interlude (ao3) - galacticsugar michael/luke T, 36k

Summary: As Michael positions his camera to capture a photo of the venue marquee, it suddenly hits him that Luke isn’t just a name on the sign. His show is tonight. He’s probably here, right now, somewhere in the venue, or at least nearby, maybe hitting up one of the trendy downtown coffee shops or jogging around the lake.

“Michael?”

…or right behind him. His voice sounds the same.

It's a hell of a feeling though (ao3) - thenewbrokenscene michael/luke M, 58k

Summary: [AU, actor/model Luke and musician Michael]

After a recent scandal and the subsequent publicity nightmare, Luke Hemmings doesn't need any more trouble. He's just trying to enjoy his best friend's birthday party. But who the fuck invited Michael Clifford?

kissing at the stop signs darling (ao3) - fffearless ot4, luke/ashton T, 7k

Summary: "I think, guys," Ashton says finally, and everyone is all ears. "We need to get away." He gives Luke's knee a quick squeeze. "Let me just get us some more milkshakes."

(Or where the boys hate how boring everything is and take a self-realisation road trip to help sort it all out)

let me love you - @sup3rbloom (haveufoundwhaturlookingfor) luke/ashton T, 10k

Summary: Luke Hemmings is a rockstar with a troubled past. He's struggling with an alcohol addiction and a career that's going downhill, but Calum isn't giving up on him. Calum suggests Luke a fake boyfriend to help keep the bad press away. That's where Ashton comes in, Ashton who is an embodiment of sunshine. Luke's hesitant due to his failed past relationships, but he agrees, because he knows this is what he needs to save his career.

Lost Hearts (ao3) - CliffordAffliction ot4 E, 177k

Summary: Ashton, Luke, Calum and Michael live in four different worlds in high school and each one of them is in love with someone who loves someone else. This can't possibly end well...or can it?

No Shame (ao3) - valiantnerd (arareads) ot4 E, 11k

Summary: Everyone makes wild offers and pleas as dirty talk, it just so happens that Luke has three rather giving bandmates who'll make every single one of his wildest dreams come true.

Even if—or especially when—it means fucking him on stage.

Scene 14 - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) luke/ashton, michael/crystal, roy/calum, kaykay/sierra E, 128k

Summary: It's one of the first lessons you learn. There’s a difference between performing and acting.

Actors are intellectuals; they’re poets with their expression and the way their voices hit the air. Performers, by comparison, are children, ignorant and too bright for their own good. No one wants to admit to being only a performer. If you’re anyone worth anything, you want to be an actor.

And Luke is not an actor, but Ashton is.

Or, the one where Luke hates Ashton but has to pretend to be in love with him for five months for his acting final except for the fact that maybe he isn't pretending anymore.

secrets no longer kept - @sup3rbloom (haveufoundwhaturlookingfor) ot4, luke/calum/ashton, michael/ashton T, 9k

Summary: Michael had only wanted to help when he decided to disguise himself as a beta. Their alpha was becoming stressed. Unfortunately for Michael, one slip up causes his mates to find out his secret. His mates react accordingly when they find out Michael's been an omega this whole time.

Somewhere in Neverland (ao3) - HeartnArrow luke/ashton N/R, 51k

Summary: high school lashton au where best friends, ashton and luke hook up at a party and everything changes.

The Bass Player (ao3) - boomercal calum/ashton E, 69k

Summary: It's his first big tour with his relatively newly joined band, opening for his favourite band in highschool. So what if he's always found the drummer hot, nothing's going to come of it, and it would unprofessional if something did happen.

the flatmate arrangement (ao3) - kaleidoscopeminds luke/calum T, 20k

Summary: Hi Calum/Poor Struggling Paralegal, So I’ll be upfront with you. It’s a one-bed flat. I also live here. HOWEVER before you delete this and think I’m a freak, I work nights so I wouldn’t be here anytime you would be. You can have the flat exclusively from 6 pm to 8 am, Saturday night and all day Sunday. Understand this sounds like a bit of a crazy arrangement but I could do with the cash, let me know what you think?

Luke Hemmings (Poor Struggling Children’s Nurse)

A 'The Flatshare' AU

Tidal Wave - @ashtcnirwin (elivigar) luke/ashton E, 127k

Summary: “We talked about it before we went over to fetch you,” Ashton starts, “and Michael talked it over with Liz, and we decided that you shouldn’t live on your own for the time being.”

“You decided that I shouldn’t live on my own,” Luke repeats. “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m an adult who can make his own decisions.”

Ashton smiles, but it’s thin and void of humour. “You’re staying with me for a while, Luke.”

A story about figuring out how to handle the difficulties life throws at you, on your own and with the help of loved ones.

Trapped Under Your Spell (ao3) - mariawritesstuff (orphan_account) luke/calum N/R, 26k

Summary: Calum opens his eyes and grins. From where he is, he can see Luke smiling down at him. The sun is shining from behind Luke’s head and from Calum’s position it kind of looks like Luke himself is the sun. Calum is momentarily stunned.

Or, A Hogwarts Cake AU where the boys are the boys and feelings are caught/have been there all along.

unlikely lighthouses (ao3) - asymmetric Michael/Calum E, 37k

Summary: In the middle of the North American leg of the ROWYSO tour, Calum builds a friendship bracelet and Michael starts to have dreams of another version of them

#5sosfanfictioncatalogue #5sos fanfic #5 seconds of summer #5sos #masterlists #ao3 #ao3 masterlist

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wanderingstethoscope · 2 years ago

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When there is chaos, expect redirection

I stared at my phone screen as I stuggled to breathe; my chest tightening, my mind in a daze as I slowly dissociated from reality. It was a coping mechanism that my body naturally takes up; especially when overwhelmed. My fingers worked quicker than my brain, as I punched the keyboard on my phone; the text reading; “Hey, would 1 more vet i.e. me, be suitable for your practice?”. I hit “send”.

“Ya the new grad fell through.” the reply read.

“Fell through?”

“She didn’t come ya.”

Well then.

You see, that first clinic that I was working for was anything any newly graduate veterinarian would hope for. There was a tremendous amount of support, with just the loveliest techs and receptionists. I felt so lucky to be part of the team...or so I thought.

Getting huge support is one thing, but, being constantly watched like a hawk, being judged at every single move you make? That is a different story altogether. 2 weeks in....come 3. Every day, I would feel more and more unlike myself. I felt like a puppet on strings. I would stumble over my words, due to the fear of looking stupid. When you are already so hard on yourself, any single tiny mistake you make, feels devastating and mentally exhausting.

6 weeks in....was when I decided, that enough is enough. It was a funny story, really, that the sequence of events that occured after, brought me to where I am meant to be today, at my current veterinarian practice.

2 days before I handed in my resignation letter, I was walking along the streets at night, with slippers. I heard a squeak, and before I knew it, my right big toe was oozing with blood. Ouch. The next thing I knew; was my father frantically trying to dial emergency services, and my mother grabbing my hand, fast-walking me to the nearest clinic. Yes, a rat bit my toe. I’m glad it did; because what followed within the next 2 days was some time off from work to gather my thoughts. I did have a fever, and toileting issues...but those were not exactly clouding my mind. The constant feeling of not being good enough no matter how much energy has drained out of you due to already putting in more than you can physically and emotionally handle? Was this my breaking point? Turns out it was.

I accepted an interview and day-trial with another veterinary practice not too far from my intial one. They were considering multiple canditates at the time. Oh, and apparently they already hired someone else before, but they didn’t show up on their work day. Everything went smoothly that day, and I was pretty much hired on the spot. Not only that, they were willing to buy me in since I had to give at least a month’s notice to my initial practice unless it was paid forward, but the new practice was hoping that I could report to work the next week. That wasn’t the only thing; they were willing to put me on solo charge.

Solo charge. Most new veterinary graduates would cringe or shy away from the idea. To be honest, I would have as well, IF I hadn’t had experienced what I experiened at my first practice. This was my chance to experience the opposite end of the spectrum.

Welcome to the deep end, Doc.

Bring it. I accepted the offer.

2 weeks into my new practice, I have done, single-handedly, all kinds of cases; from itchy skin, to the vomiting dog, the cat with diarrhoea, acute sneezing, coughing, the old Chihuahua with heart failure. Clients were already asking to see me specifically, something that really touched my heart. I felt like I belonged, and valued, where I am now. The number of consults and cases I managed within the first 2 weeks at my new practice was incomparable to the number I did at my previous practice. I felt so like myself, I had the freedom to display empathy towards my clients, provide them with options in terms of treatment and management for their furry friends, and allow them the freedom to choose from those options. I was forming amazing connections, and most of my consults ended up with smiling clients.

However, there is no doubt that there is always going to be somebody more experienced than me, and knows more than me, but what I also do know, is that we never stop learning. I know when to reach out for help whenever I needed to. The safety, wellbeing and health of my patients and clients are the top-most important factors to me, and I would do everything and anything in my power to ensure that is taken care of. That includes, seeking a secondary opinion, or referal, both of which I have no problems doing whenever I feel that I need to.

There was one thing though; a client brought in her kitten to see me when I was at my previous practice. Before she left, she turned to me and said, “I really do hope you stay, you’re so good with my cat, I want to see you again the next time I visit.” How bittersweet. I would never forget that client, nor her cat.

I cannot be more thankful for where I am today. The worst thing I could have done to myself because of imposter syndrome, was to give up....and I know for a fact that that isn’t me.

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tackyink · 2 months ago

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Hello 🥰 here I come after 3 main quest and 543 side quests!! Just to give you commentary of the last chapter/jjjj

(I know you said I didn't have to obligatorily leave a comment, but I really enjoy it and feel a bit frustrated with myself if I promise/say something and end up not doing it ajshajsha I guess it's a matter of principle)

Uuhh, big spoilers ig if someone who hasn't already read last chapter does read this ????

KUWABARA MY LOVE! I love how you write him (who am I kidding, I love how you write the main cast, and the side characters and the antagonists and the—) like, he is so sweet?? But also very impulsive. Which ends up being very endearing if not a bit embarrassing (but like, second hand and not by a lot). I can relate to his want to have his favourite series finished, but also that Wakaba's agency is shitty and they treated her like,, real bad.

On the other hand I feel so bad for Wakaba :( I imagine that if you end up doing a series you want to end it the best way possible so the fact that she had to sacrifice years of work just because her agency did what they did... I hope she can finish it--

The whole chapter was super nice and the pacing was good, in the sense that it felt imminent that the secret was going out. I liked a lot the way Kurama was a bit flustered (I guess, with Kurama being Kurama?) when Kuwabara went barging in lol

Also!!! THE GIRLIES ARE HERE. I love them. Togashi should have given them so much more screentime!!!! Yukina my beloved aaaaa I'm looking forward to the shenanigans now that they are there.

But for the most shocking part of the chapter (for me) HIEI. SHORT KING. I truly wasn't expecting him at all?? I knew you would introduce him at some point but I definitely didn't think it would be in that chapter, you were truly spoiling us. He came all the way because he was worried about Yukina, and Wakaba's first and only reaction after all that had happened to her that week was: Do I get another futon?

She has me rolling ajshajsha there is something about deadpan characters = comedic relief that's very true. I think it's the essence of your characters, being effortlessly funny without trying lol I'm always happy when I read one of your stories 💞

I don't have much more to say, I was saving some comments for the ao3 but I don't think I will make it before you update the next one lolol uni's tfg is killing me already in October, I don't want to see myself in May ajsgajsvshws oTL

Anyways if I remember anything else I wanted to comment on, I will send you another ask filled with love 🫶

I hope you have a super nice next week!!! 🤗

Full disclosure, I've been having a couple of crappy weeks health wise and haven't worked on ALC since I posted chapter 6, but in the spirit (haha see what I did there) of the holiday I promise I'm going to spend the afternoon of the 31st and the 1st editing just so you can read it before you graduate also holy shit, where has time gone???

You know, you've made realize parallels between this and the situations that pop up in fandoms when someone involved in production is revealed to have done something awful. I think it's natural to go "NOOO MY BLORBOS" when you're invested, those feelings can't come at the expense of the people who've been harmed, and Kuwabara's 100% the type to prioritize people, no matter how disappointed he may be. I would be gutted if I were in Wakaba's shoes as well - nobody wins in this situation, except the publishing house that's raking it in thanks to the controversy.

I feel she's getting better though, having so many people around and a mystery to unravel hasn't left her a lot of time to be miserable. Another unexpected guest? Sure, whatever, she'll set up another bed, what difference will it make at this point. Maybe this will end up being a blessing in disguise. Maybe.

Thanks so much as always for sending these asks. ❤ They make my day every time. Best of luck with that TFG!

#nya-vivi #tacky asks

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kosuukeh · 6 years ago

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2018/12/16 -

It’s the end of Engeki Haikyuu ‘The Strongest Team’. Team Aoba Johsai!

Source: [x][x][x][x]

#haikyuu stage play #aoba johsai #asuma kousuke #kousuke asuma #kohatsu allen #kanai sonde #shirakashi judai #kanda masakazu #sakamoto kouta #saitou kenshin #kitamura keito #yamagiwa kaito #MY BOYS #their part in the story already done? so I can only expect them to graduate when the new stage is announced ;;#my post

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munsonslove · 2 years ago

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Hi! I would like to make a request if I may? Can you do a smutty/fluffy where the reader is pregnant and super horny and wakes Eddie up in the middle of the night for it? He's normally all soft daddydom but he's just like "take what you need from me" and then reader is semi embarrassed about it...

I Waited All Day...

(18+ only)

a/n: thank you so much for being my first requester, hope you love it! (sorry about it taking like a thousand words to get to the actual smut. i am physically incapable of just getting to the good part of a fic and MUST write a whole ass backstory)

summary: Eddie's more than happy to be woken up by his girl in the middle of the night when her pregnancy hormones are making her needier than usual.

wordcount: 4.2k

tags/warnings: fem!reader, established relationship, VERY vague mentions of reader having a troubled past, reader being forced to move out of her mother’s house, very small drug mention, use of pet names (babe, beautiful, handsome, sweetheart, sweet girl), talks of marriage, pregnancy, mentions of masturbation (f), brief mention of oral (f receiving), p in v penetration, daddy kink, praise kink, unprotected sex (she’s already preggo and they’re monogamous, otherwise yeah use a condom y’all), no use of y/n

People like to talk. When you first moved to Hawkins during your senior year, you were everyone’s favorite topic of conversation. From the moment you first walked through the school’s halls, they expected you to fit in one of the boxes created for you. The idea of fresh meat excited them, and students from all different social cliques flocked to you, trying to figure out your deal. They wanted to know if you were going to be the ‘Party Girl’, or the ‘Cheerleader’, or the ‘Girl Next Door’. It wasn’t until the self-designated popular crowd of Hawkins High was escorting you to the cafeteria and you excitedly pointed out the flier on the bulletin board with a cartoon D20 that they realized you weren’t going to be one of them.

Eddie Munson had been your rock throughout that tough last year of school. Moving so late in your educational career was definitely not ideal, but it was necessary due to unforeseen circumstances. When you eventually told Eddie about everything, he was there for you in a way you never thought you’d be lucky enough to get, and he understood how you felt considering he’d had a less-than-perfect life himself. Having him to talk to without the fear of being pitied or being a burden made you feel safe, and it wasn’t long until you were falling in love. Thankfully, he felt the same way, and your fairytale love story had begun. But once again, people like to talk. And stare. The criticizing looks whenever you would walk to class hand in hand were not subtle, and the whispered rumors were judgmental to say the least. Still, you were happy. The happiest you had been in a very long time. It was you and Eddie, everything else was background noise.

When you graduated and he stayed behind to retake his senior year, everyone was shocked that you didn’t break up with him. Especially your mother, who assumed he was just a rebellious phase and that you’d be done with him once high school was behind you. When another year passed, and Eddie was once again informed that he would be repeating his senior year, she gave you an ultimatum: break up with him or move out. So you started living with Eddie and his uncle at the trailer park. It was a tight squeeze, but it would hopefully only be until graduation, and Wayne was happy to see his nephew so in love. Summer came and went, you were working as a waitress at a local diner and Eddie was going to school and bussing tables at the Hideout on nights when his band wasn’t playing. The both of you made plans for your future together, saving money to get the hell out of Hawkins. When Eddie took the pregnancy test out of your shaking hands and looked up at you with excited eyes, you thanked your lucky stars you had already put a down payment on a mobile home.

As it would turn out, it wasn’t just the kids you went to high school with who liked to talk, the people at the diner did too. Your coworkers never liked your boyfriend, always making comments behind their hands about his tattoos and ripped jeans. They would pull you aside and ask why you hadn’t dumped him yet whenever he pulled up in his van to take you home at the end of your shift. Your answer in the past had always been the same. “Because,” you would say while rolling your eyes, “he’s the love of my life.” The look on everyone’s faces when your answer finally changed to “Because he’s the father of my child,” was absolutely priceless. According to them, you were making the mistake of your lifetime by having a baby at 20, and Eddie would bail the first chance he got. Little did they know that Eddie had taken the responsibility of parenthood very seriously. His grades were already significantly better than they had been in previous years, ensuring that he would receive his diploma next month, and he was taking every extra shift he could at the bar while continuing to sell for Reefer Rick. It was still scary as hell, but your due date wasn’t until the end of November. He and you would be fully settled into your new home together by then, nursery painted and ready for your bundle of joy.

The one bad thing about Eddie’s determination to take as much of the stress off of you as he could was that he had a lot of busy days. Of course he made absolutely sure to set aside time for you, but on this particular day he was out of the trailer from sunrise to sunset. He woke you up gently with a kiss to the forehead before kissing you in some other places (you would have been annoyed that he almost made you late to work, but honestly the orgasm was worth it). After dropping you off at the diner, he booked it to school, where he and the rest of the Hellfire Club stayed after the final bell had rung to play a couple hours of his latest campaign (that you sadly couldn’t join in on considering you helped plan it). His final destination before coming home was the Hideout, where he was scheduled to work until midnight. This meant you’d likely not see him until the next morning, considering he was always extra careful to not wake you when climbing into bed.

As for your own day after being dropped off, you had a pretty bad bout of morning sickness during the breakfast rush. Apparently no one likes to watch their waitress exit the restaurant in a rush so she can empty the contents of her stomach into the very visible-from-the-window trash can, so your boss sent you home at 11am instead of 2pm. Thankfully, your tables were understanding, and made sure to leave you hefty tips and encouraging words of advice on motherhood. Their sweetness combined with your hormones nearly made you cry on the bus ride home.

Speaking of hormones, you were horny. It was hard not to be when you had a boyfriend like Eddie, who fucked you brainless and knew exactly how to talk dirty to you with words that would play on repeat in your head for weeks afterward. Currently, memories of last night were the main cause for the wetness in between your legs. Eddie had you pinned down by the wrists and was pummeling in and out of you. You came after his promise of fucking you in every room against every surface once you finally moved into your place together.

When you arrived home from work three hours early and explained that you got sick, Wayne was concerned. Once you changed into some sweats and one of Eddie’s shirts, he made you rest on the couch as he got lunch ready, and you ate together while watching TV. Sneaking off to ‘take care’ of yourself wasn’t an option, and you wouldn’t want to do that with uncle Wayne in the house anyway. Eventually, the evening came and he had to leave for his night shift at the plant, so you were left alone. The second the front door shut, you were flopping down onto the bed and shoving your hand into your panties. Relief was illusive, unfortunately. Instead of pleasured moans the room was filled with frustrated grunts. After having Eddie’s fingers, your own just weren’t the same. You begrudgingly gave up and gave in to your exhaustion, quickly falling into a deep sleep.

After what felt like mere minutes, your heavy eyes were blinking open. The light from the sunset was completely gone, and there was a warmth pressed into your back and wrapped around your torso. Carefully, you rolled over and smiled at Eddie’s relaxed face. You loved his loud personality and sarcastic humor, but during the nighttime- when you got to see the side of him no one else saw- that’s when you fell in love all over again. The door was slightly cracked, letting in a small amount of light from the hallway (Eddie says he likes to watch you sleep while he drifts off). Although it was dim, you could still see how beautifully peaceful he looked as he slept beside you. Glancing over at the nightstand showed the alarm clock reading ‘12:31’, meaning that Eddie got home probably around ten minutes ago, stripped down to his boxers, slipped his rings and necklace off onto the dresser, took you into his arms, and promptly passed out. The devil on your shoulder is reminding you of the arousal that’s been bothering you all day, while the angel is telling you to let him rest. You know you should, he’s obviously drained from such a long day and he has school in seven hours, but the pulsing between your legs is not easy to ignore. Seeing his chest tattoos on full display wasn’t doing you any favors in the ‘let him get some sleep’ department either.

“Babe,” you whisper as you lightly shake his shoulder, “babe, wake up.” His eyes scrunch up adorably, and even when they finally open it’s clear that he’s still not fully conscious.

“Huh- wha?” he mumbles before blinking slowly a few more times. He stretches his arm out above his head and you watch his pupils dilate when his eyes focus on you. “Hey there, beautiful,” he says more clearly. A smile grows on his face while his hand finds its way to your cheekbone, caressing you softly.

You smile back, but bite your lip as you prepare to tell him why you woke him up in the middle of the night after he worked a seven hour shift. “Hey yourself, handsome.”

He blushes at the compliment until he realizes it’s not morning yet, and his eyebrows furrowed together. “Wait, what’s wrong? Is everything okay? Do you need something? Is it the baby?” he starts rambling worriedly.

To be fair, this was rather uncommon behavior from you. Ever since the start of your relationship, having sex with Eddie was one of your favorite things in the world, but that didn’t mean you weren’t still shy about it. He did his best to break you out of your comfort zone and let you know that it’s okay to ask for what you need, but even after almost three years together you still were in the habit of waiting for him to initiate intimacy.

“I’m fine, the baby’s fine,” you reassure him while rubbing your hand up and down his chest. “I just- um, well I missed you all day,” you try to explain, hoping he picks up on what you’re trying to say.

His frantic expression immediately calms. “Aw, sweetheart,” he croons with a soft peck to the tip of your nose, “I missed you too. I always miss you when you’re not around.” Giggling anxiously, you look away. He rests his hand over yours to still your subconsciously fiddling fingers on his chest. “Is my girl getting shy? Tell me what you need.”

Warmth overtakes your cheeks as you lean in closer to whisper even quieter, “I… need you.” As you say this, your hand travels down his torso to the waistband of his boxers, and your thighs flex as they squeeze together.

His eyes light up excitedly, both at the prospect of sex and your uncharacteristic boldness. “Do you, now?” he asks, his voice lowered seductively as his own hand makes its way to your side and pulls you closer to him, your pelvises flush together. “My sweet girl needs me? You need daddy’s cock?”

A shaky moan escapes from the bottom of your throat the moment he calls himself that. It wasn’t completely new territory, you’d both experimented with using that word since the beginning of your relationship, but he definitely used it more frequently since learning the good news last month.

“Please, daddy,” you whine, “I waited all day. Don’t tease me.”

“All day, huh?” he hums as his fingers hook underneath the elastic of your sweatpants, dipping into your underwear and grazing your wet folds. His eyebrows shoot up. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re soaked.”

“I told you!” you exclaim as you start rutting your hips against his hand. Taking the hint, he immediately starts circling your clit after leaning in to passionately lock lips with you. You struggle to return the kiss, your mouth stuck in an open ‘O’ shape as your hand fists in his long hair. Your moans only grow louder as you seek out your climax, his quiet voice guiding you there with sweet words.

“You’re so perfect, so fucking sexy like this,” he praises, “I can’t believe how good you are for me. Always so ready. Waiting for me, all wet and willing in our bed.” Eddie liked to do that, remind you that this bed was both yours and his. He loved the word ‘our’, loved to establish that the rest of your lives would be shared together. “Did you touch yourself while you waited for me to come home, beautiful?”

“Y- yes,” you answered truthfully, “but it wasn’t the same. Couldn’t finish” Although there wasn’t much light in the bedroom, and your vision was starting to blur, you knew your boyfriend well enough to know that this complaint brought a smug smirk to his face.

“No?” he asks, his fingers changing direction on your clit and circling the opposite way. The sudden adjustment has you gasping and throwing your head back, and he seizes the opportunity to kiss your neck for a moment, before going back to his questioning. “Why wasn’t it the same?”

The memory of your failed attempts at orgasm forces a frustrated groan from you. “Not the same without you,” you explain, confused as to how this wasn’t obvious already. “Not as good without you with me. When I can’t feel you, hear you… Just not the same.”

“I’m sorry, sweet girl,” he apologizes. He truly does sound sorry now, the mocking lilt in his tone vanishing, “I wish I was there for you earlier, don’t want my girl to suffer.”

Trying to clear your head enough to respond is a challenge, especially when you’re sure your orgasm is so close, but you manage to do it anyway. “Don’t have to say sorry,” you soothe him, “you’re here for me now. You’re always here for me.”

“And I will be, for the rest of our lives,” he promises, full of emotion. Then, your stomach flips as his words turn lustful, the vibrations from his deepened voice piercing through you almost violently. “Doing so good, fucking yourself on my fingers. That feel good like that, babe?” he questions, “You want it faster? Harder? I’ll give you anything you need.”

“I need you!” you cry out. “Please, I want you to fill me up, stretch me out. I need you to fuck me,” you cry, but make no efforts to move away from his hand.

“I will, I will,” he promises, “I just wanna watch my favorite girl cum this way first. Then you’ll get daddy’s cock filling you up, that’s what you want right?”

You clench around nothing, and nod your head rapidly. The heat in your belly only grows as Eddie continues his motions. It pushes you over the edge when he starts sucking on your pulse point, the exact spot on your neck that he knows drives you crazy. You can no longer hold off your climax, and you cling to him helplessly as he helps you to ride out your orgasm. During your release, you shake and whimper against him as he shushes into your ear while stroking your hair with his free hand. All that can be heard is a chorus of ‘Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Oh Eddie’.

“There you go, sweetheart, there you go,” he comforts through your aimless babbling moans. “I’ve got you. Let go.”

The stinging sensation of overstimulation starts to set in, causing you to squeeze your thighs shut, but that only traps him in place. Your whines grow higher in pitch as the pleasure and pain mixture becomes too much to bear, and you feel Eddie smirk against your heated skin. Finally, he takes pity on you and lifts his hand from your center, only to close his eyes and moan as he licks his fingers clean of your juices. You roll over onto your back and turn your head to watch as you try to regain regular breathing. While he’s busy lapping up the last of the glistening mess you left behind, you sit up to pull off his shirt that you’re still wearing and toss it across the room. Immediately, you feel his callused hands gliding gently up your side and just under your chest, careful to not be too rough knowing that your breasts have become much more sensitive during your pregnancy.

“So perfect,” he murmurs, and you’re not even sure he realizes he said it out loud. He follows you into a sitting position and kisses you devotedly before pulling away to whisper, “I love you.” You shudder as you feel his soft breath on your swollen lips.

“I love you, too,” you respond back breathily, pushing back down onto his pillow. “Lay back, sweetheart,” you demand, “Daddy had a long day, so I’ll do the work, okay?”

You notice his cock twitch in his boxers as he smiles up at you lovingly with a nod. In seconds, your pants and underwear are discarded and tossed across the room as well, and Eddie lifts his hips to assist you in removing his single piece of clothing. His erection springs up, and even after all this time you can’t help the reaction it causes. Your mouth waters as you bite your lips, you feel a warmth grow once more in your lower stomach, and your eyes glaze over. Finally, after all day of waiting for this moment, you throw your leg over him and slowly slide down his length.

You both instantly let out relieved groans, and his fingers curl in on the flesh of your waist, leaving crescent shaped indents where his nails dig into you. The sting only adds to your enjoyment, sending more of that fuzzy feeling to your head and making it hard to think about anything else but how badly you want to stay like this forever. Flattening your hands on his chest, just under the ink of his tattoos, you brace yourself as you start to rock up and down. The stretch is exactly what you’ve been craving for hours, and the instantaneous relief that washes over you is almost enough to make you cry. He reaches so unbelievably deep inside of you, and as usual the entire time he is unable to keep his mouth shut.

“So good, babe. You feel so good,” he growls. “So fucking tight, and warm. Like a fucking dream. How did I get so lucky?”

“I’m the lucky one,” you correct, arms giving out under you making you collapse onto him. Your foreheads meet as your lips fumble against each other, not quite able to correctly kiss through the loud and needy moans filling the room. His tongue enters your mouth, licking across your bottom row of teeth, and your face scrunches as you focus on chasing your high.

“You like that, don’t you? God, are you gonna cum already?” he asks after a couple minutes when he notices your rhythm faltering. Trying to hold off was futile, the bliss was overwhelming. “We just started, beautiful. You’re so much more sensitive now.”

“Pl- please, daddy,” you start to beg. For what, you’re not sure. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment. While you had (of course) always loved sleeping with Eddie, the dial turned up to eleven with your recent change in hormones. You still were unaccustomed to feeling so desperate for him all the time, and although the constant begging you were doing nowadays was humiliating, you’ve found you just can’t help it. “Please, I- I need…”

“What does my girl need?” he urges you on when your fragil voice trails off.

“I need your cum,” you finish. “I want it inside, I wanna feel it leaking out of me tomorrow at work, reminding me I’m yours.” As you confess these lewd desires, he starts cursing softly to himself. His grip tightens, bouncing you up and down on his cock with reckless abandon.

“My sweet, shy girl. Not so shy now, are you?” he asks, head thrown back and clearly on the brink. “Not when you’re fucked out, so desperate for my cum.”

Your hips start to stutter as you grow frantic, your release getting harder and harder to hold back. “Please, I need it, daddy. I want you to fill me up.”

“Sound so good begging for me. Daddy’s gonna fill you up,” he promises, and you feel his cock twitching as it hits you directly on you g-spot over and over, torturing you with pleasure. “Gonna fuck you full, till you can’t hold anymore.”

The final string snaps. You feel all the blood in your body rushing to your head as you curl in on yourself and call out his name over and over, him doing the same with yours. Slick moisture coats your thighs, dirty from the mess you’ve made together, and you’ve lost all strength to continue grinding. Eddie has graciously taken over, his fingers splayed over your hips as he thrusts up into you, the bed frame creaking loudly. Along with the steady rhythm of the bed meeting the wall, there’s an obscene squelching noise that only draws out your orgasm, and you’re surprised at how much the filthy sound turns you on. After needing this for so long, your body rewards you with a longer than usual release, and Eddie rides along with you throughout its duration. When the feeling finally comes to an end, you lift yourself off of your boyfriend and fall exhausted to his side, closing your eyes in embarrassment when he wastes no time turning to you to scoop up any of his seed that had leaked out and push it back inside. Although he’s gentle in doing so, a pathetic sounding whimper still escapes you.

Minutes pass as you both take some time to recover. Your heartbeat is still going wild when he raises his hand to gently comb his fingers through your hair. “God, I love you,” he murmurs, “Gonna make you mine soon.”

You try to look up at him, but your neck feels too weak, too sore from the straining it just went through. Your gaze peers up at him through thick eyelashes, and you see that he’s looking down at you as well. “I love you too, Eddie,” you respond, “I’m already yours.”

“Gonna buy you a real pretty ring,” he continued, as if you said nothing. “Almost as pretty as you. Not prettier, cause that’s impossible.” Warmth spreads over your entire body, settling in your diaphragm. The topic of marriage has been brought up before, but you can tell he’s more serious now, the youthful emptiness to those promises now disappeared. “Real soon, I promise. Just gotta move in and have the baby, then I can buy it.”

“Soon. We only gotta be patient for a little bit longer,” you comfort him. In the past, he had confided in you his disappointment that he couldn’t propose sooner. Truth be told, you would be happier than ever going down to the courthouse and signing a few papers, but he absolutely insists on buying you a ring and having a huge ceremony and reception. He said he wants to show how much he loves you, and when you protested by saying he proved his love a long time ago, he countered by admitting he wants to show everyone how lucky he got by having you fall in love with him. If waiting to have a ceremony is what’ll make him happy, then you decided you can wait as long as it’ll take. There were only a few more things on the to-do list before you could start planning: save up as much as you can before taking maternity leave, pack up and move out, have the baby, and… “And we definitely need to buy a new mattress before moving in, too.”

“What are you talking about?” he exclaims, looking at you wildly. “This mattress is where we conceived our child!”

You roll your eyes as a sudden laugh breaks out of you. “This mattress is like, one of six places where our child could have been conceived,” you argue as visions of late nights in Eddie’s van and secret meetings in the Hawkins High theater room flood your memories. “And it’s covered in stains.”

Eddie laughs along with you as he rubs up and down your back. “Fine,” he concedes, “but this is the most statistically likely place. And those stains are half your fault, you know? This bed has too many good memories,” he finishes while wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. He has a point. This dirty mattress does have a lot of good memories.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut

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huitzilinthebudgie3 · 2 years ago

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Amor no correspondido (Unrequited Love)

For Mature/Adult eyes only !!!!!!!!!!

Thank you for taking the time out of your day to click on , hope you like it . I know the boys are a bit ooc , i don't have DID and if i offend anyone , please let me know where and how i can change it or so i can take it out of my story completely . This story is just something random and angst that i've written .

Y/n sat silently on the couch going over her options as she stared intently at the test , a whirlwind of emotion and chaos buzzed around in her mind and conflicting emotions were wreaking havoc in her mind as her phone decided to buzz . Missed calls from all of her roommates , she knew they needed help with Layla and whatever as they’d explained but , the very life changing information that sat on the coffee table . She knew with every instinct in her body that she needed to run , that with every fiber of her being this situation was not ideal nor was it something she’d ever thought she’d have to deal with .

She blinked back tears before looking and praying to the god she served for guidance , the answer was one she already knew . The only difference now was that it was commanded of her , she had a time frame and she couldn’t fail this last mission .

Later

Y/n sighed deeply , her arms circling around her knees as she subtly packed a few essentials and among things . Her head rested on her knees as she sipped her bottle of an overpriced iced coffee , watching the world continue on . She hadn’t noticed how much her relationships had changed and how much they’d caused her chest to ache , however the extravagantly stubborn part of her soul offered cruel justifications . Justifications that had been uttered to her countless times as insults being recycled to affirm it as true .

She bitterly stared outside onto the balcony as a symphony of perfect laughter rang in her ears and clung to the last bit of her dignity as she pulled away , something she knew had to happen . It reminded her briefly of the pain that stung , when you’d sat in the rows of countless High School graduates and it felt as if the world had stopped and tilted on its axis before returning to its rotation as if nothing happened .

She stared blankly as her deity encouraged her to get up , she continued to stare blankly at her emotions too much to handle with the timing . She couldn’t deal with them at the moment so , she pushed them down to the furthest recesses of her mind . However , her deity having been such a large part of her life dried her tears and with the light of a new dawn pushed once again to keep moving forward . Giving her a specific time limit , a time limit that would undoubtedly change her life in a matter of minutes . Her diety towered over her , his golden eyes staring silently "You have the rest of your life to dread this , for now . Take 24 hours to decide if your allowing this life to continue on , and 2 months to tell the father " she felt a new slough of tears drip down her cheeks as she sobbed softly , her diety wiping her tears aways .

<<<<<<<<<<<< 24 hours Later >>>>>>>>>>>>>

Her time was running out and she knew it , but deep down she didn’t desire to do what she knew needed to be done . So she stood her arms wrapped around the boxes , she was moving downstairs into her truck to mail home . She poked the silly creature's face , it was a plushie she’d bought , which reminded her of the beanstalk she grew . She wasn’t expecting the last person she’d expected to be walking in the door “ Morning darling , where are you heading off to with all the boxes ?” she froze , her eyes observed the panic and worry that he wore before swiftly and cooly explaining the situation “Sister’s having a baby , she asked me to get her some things from over here . She was also asking if I'd move in for a bit to babysit the kids for a while . Figured a vacation couldn’t hurt , see my family ?” she said before he shrugged “Don’t sound too shabby , eh ? Vacation in the US of A’s ?” she rolled her eyes playfully , a fake chuckle sounded , she tensed mentally before Steven Grant snickered “I’ll help you , yeah ?” she smiled “Thanks “ he nodded before disappearing out the door .

She listened to Steven go on about the date he’d gone on with Layla and how wonderful the date had gone , how the thrill of dating the woman had gone . How she'd appreciated the flowers that She had recommended and how thrilled Marc had been that the 3 of them were all compatible . She wondered briefly , if the affection they’d once shared had meant anything to them ? If the raw emotion and vulnerability they’d both shared still meant anything . Her thoughts then fluttered like a fly to shit , about the child . Would her child blame her ? Would her roommate hate her with her unborn child ? Was she an asshole for having yet to speak up about the child ? She would only ruin the boy's happiness , they told her countless times about their own childhood . Their reluctance to have children , they’d confessed once after a round of Rumchata and Whiskey that Layla would’ve been the only woman they’d ever expected to have children with and Marc refused to entertain the idea anymore . At the time , it didn’t matter because in their future , Layla was in the past and they’d promised the future .

She was drawn from her thoughts as Steven giggled on about the new exhibit at the museum , her thoughts came to a sudden realization in that moment . The squeeze in her chest enough of a reminder as he squealed about inviting Layla to the event , her own chest seized impossibly tighter ‘He invited me last time , we had some cheap take out and ate in the park on top of the picnic table and watched the pond ducks’ she said before deciding to leave the much needed conversation for another day .

Later on that week

Jake Lockley had been a friend and an ally for a long time , and he mentioned all of what he’d caught, which was most of the things that she knew she couldn’t hide . It disturbed her on one level and comforted her on another , she only offered a chuckle “You're silly !” she said, booping his nose “No , what’s silly is that . Khonshu mentioned your possibly going home “ she paused deep in thought unlike Steven , Jake didn’t fall for the sparkles nor the glitter “My sister having a baby , i need to go home for a few weeks that's all “ she said softly before he quirked a brow “Which sister ? Once barely in high school” she blinked at that “My Aunt , but she's like a sister “ he didn’t believe her , but nodded nonetheless . “Okay and the baby stuff ?” she shrugged silently “I’m a nurse and i see cute things all the time , can’t blame me can you ?” he quirked a brow and was hesitant to let the subject go . She could read it on his face but said nothing “Just tell me if - … If you need a break or need something , yeah ?” she plastered the biggest smile she could muster . Before the timer on her phone went off and she jumped to grab her newly warmed bagel .

A week later

Marc Spector was the one fronting , when Khonshu confronted her . Marc was talking on and on about Layla and how wonderfully , she was getting along with Steven . How She adored Steven and even got Jake a set of new gloves . It struck a nerve in her heart as she ignored him , only nodding when prompted as she watched the streets below . It was one thing for her own deity to question her “A pathetic human ? I’m sure I can convince one of my knights ? If you need an assistant ?” Marc stared blankly as she blushed deeply “What are you volunteering me for ?” Khonshu hummed .

Turning his attention to Marc as she glared attempting to shut the large bird brain up “Y/n’s pregnant ! A pathetic human indeed , refusing to take responsibility “ “Khonshu !!!” she seethed before Marc turned his attention to her “What !?” she felt the world spin , a situation like this caused by actions of her own as she turned her glare to Marc “None of your fucking buisness bird brain !! Butt the fuck out !!” she snarled as Khonshu muttered something about ingrates before Marc stirred her from her mind “Is it … You said ! “ she felt her chest squeeze impossibly tight as her panic attack grew as he attempted to grab her elbow , she was panicking as she shoved him a bit roughly “Fuck off ! I’m not stupid “ she snarled before she felt her decision was made “Well , obviously not . Your uterus is housing a fucking child !!” she glared silently .

“Don’t fucking worry ! I’ll be out of your hair soon enough !!” she grumbled , using her teleportation and going to her temporary place of thinking .

Later

Her phone rang ,her back hurt as she stared at the countless stars as her deity murmured their current plan . Her emotionalness threatened to overwhelm her as she arranged for it all , she knew the boys would be fine , Jake would eventually get over it or find them again . Steven and Marc had Layla so they wouldn’t need her , teleporting sucked and when she teleported back to the apartment . She stretched softly knowing essentials were left as she stepped out of her room to find the flat trashed and whoever was staring at the mirror staring at the mirror “You decided to grace us with your presence ?” she huffed softly and shrugged “Assuming that Jake doesn’t know ?” she asked before he glared silently “Amor , no te preocupes . Solo nosotros podemos hacerlo ?(My love, don't worry, We can do this !) ” he said softly pulling her into a hug “Don’t worry about it “ she said softly “Por que ? De quién es ? No te duedo , es mio ? Verdad ?(Why ? Who’s is it ? I don’t doubt you , it’s mine right ?!)” he said softly , she pushed him back “No. I’m ripping the fucking bandaid off . I’m not fucking doing this !! I-” she felt her throat tighten as her “My sisters moved back to our home , she's pregnant . I-'' Jake stared softly as she debated it “There’s a chance , a slight chance-” Jake stubborn as ever “I don’t care ! It’ll be our baby either way !!” he explained and went on and on .

She interrupted him “Jake . I love you , a lot . But I need to talk to Marc and Steven . I need to know what -Fuck !” she grumbled as it rained outside , the sun covered by the rain that cascaded down the glass “Me vale !! Los gueys no saben !! Te amo con todo lo que tengo ! Sin ti , no tengo poder !(I don’t care , those idiots don’t know ! I love you with everything I have ! Without you , i can’t do it without you !!)” she felt tears drip down her cheeks , she cupped his cheeks . Emotions and Jake’s promises lulling her to give in .

Before she looked into Marc's face as he glared “ I don’t want a baby with you ! We just got Layla back a little bit “ she felt the tears dribbled down her cheeks as she snickered softly “Nobody can hear us right ? Because you're a grade A asshole where no one can see ?! “ he glared softly “They can’t handle us ! I fucking can’t handle us , we don’t work !?” she glared softly “Because you're an arrogant prick ! “ he rolled his eyes'' Is it ours ? Your going to America-” she pulled her dagger out so fast “I’m not killing my baby ! You might not want it , but i do . I have some papers for you to sign , do it now while you're fronting . I’ll be out of your collective hairs after this “ he scoffed “Your a good roommate , a good friend …best friend even . Don’t trash-” she growled deeply “What ? There's nothing else for us ! You have Layla , so does Steven ! Jakes going to be next ! Just sign the fucking papers ” he was silent before sighing and nodding .

Later

The paperwork was signed “What was the paperwork ?” she glared silently with an annoyed expression “Don’t sign shit , you didn’t read'' she said sarcastically “Legal paperwork , the baby is technically yours but , this paper says that you want no part in the baby and don’t owe me anything “ she said coldly “Nice doing business with you , Mr.Spector . Until next time “ she said softly grabbing her things ``So that’s it ? You're not saying bye to the boys ?” she shook her head “Jake will be the only one to follow me probably and Steven … I don’t know what to tell’em” she said softly “I never will admit it , but you were dead on . Falling in love is for Chumps and Junkies and should stay in the fairytales' ' she said softly cocking a hip “Seriously ? Who made a baby with you ?” she stared softly “Doesn’t matter anymore , Spector .” she said before promptly walking out the door and leaving .

Her last thoughts walking out of the building with her things was "How did we get here ?" ........

Thank you for reading ! I'll update whenever i can , please leave a comment or kudos ! Have a good day and i'll see you guys soon :)

#khonshu x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #pregnant reader #pregnancy

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

Text

Risk it - Harry Styles

a/n: this came so fast and typed most of it out at work lmao, but i kinda dig how it turned out!! hope you’ll like it too! as always, feedback is very much appreciated!

pairing: professor!Harry x Reader

warning: sexual content

word count: 11.8k

masterlist

You shake yourself a little bit to get rid of the spicy coldness that’s been lingering around in the city in the past few days. It’s only the end of August, but feels more like late October, though they say the warmness will return for a few more weeks shortly. That would be much needed, you’d love to enjoy some more lunches out in a park or down near the river before you are forced to withdraw into the insides for the rest of the year.

Looking around in the packed pub you look for the familiar golden locks of Piper and you quickly spot her in one of the corner booths, laughing joyfully with pinked cheeks probably from the almost empty pint of beer in front of her. Marching through the place you slide into the booth joining the group of three.

“And there she is!” Piper cheers.

“We thought you’re gonna bail on us,” Abigail snickers and you just roll your eyes.

“I said I would come, just had some work to finish before,” you tell them, shaking your cardigan down your arms quickly, the air is thicker, mustier and much warmer in here, but it’s not surprising, the pub is packed, just as usual on a Friday evening.

“You work way too much,” Piper shakes her head in disapproval as she downs the rest of her drink.

“I’ll be working way less from September.”

“Yeah, but you’ll spend the rest of the week in school, so it’s gonna be the same!” Mona chimes in with furrowed eyebrows.

“They promised me a fat raise if I get this degree within the next three years, I could definitely use the extra cash so I can finally buy my own place soon,” you explain.

You know they understand the situation and they wish you the best. They want to see you succeed in life and in your career, they just love teasing you about how dedicated you are towards your work, having to say immediately yes when your boss told you you’d get a new position and a raise if you finish the masters you never got to two years ago. You already had a handful of credits done that you’ll be able to get accepted, meaning you only have about one year worth of credits to finish in two years while working. It might get a little overwhelming to have an almost fulltime job and go to school but you’re determined to do this.

“We know, we know,” Abigail chuckles. “Alright, no more work or school talk tonight. We are here to let loose, so let’s get another round!”

Soon enough you are nursing a beer of your own, enjoying your time with your friends. It’s been long all four of you were free on the same night. Piper got married last year, Abigail’s work forces her to travel around a lot and Mona has a bitch of a boss, making her work overtime a lot, so it’s been hard to fix up a date that fits everyone. It’s been like this since you all finished your bachelors three years ago. You like to think you’re still a fresh little young adult who just barely stepped out into the big world, but it’s not true, hasn’t been for a while. You’re 24, you have a career, you live on your own, you take care of yourself fully. You are an adult, whether you like it or not.

Drink after drink, the four of you are getting tipsy, having an amazing time talking about the stories you shared back in university. Piper was your roommate first year uni, Mona and Abigail were in the room next to yours and you quickly became close friends, moved in for the rest of your studies until you all went your own ways after graduation, but keeping in touch as much as possible.

“I’m gonna get another one, but that’s gonna be my last one, because I have some work to finish in the morning,” you announce climbing out of the booth.

“No work talk!” Mona and Abigail shout at the same time making you laugh as you just wave them off and head to the bar.

You’ve been waiting for the line to get shorter, now only a few people are lingering around so you patiently wait for your turn, clutching onto your card in your hand. You don’t pay much attention to the tall guy next to you, only when someone bumps into you from behind and makes you fall against his side.

“Oh shoot, sorry! Someone pushed me,” you apologize immediately as the guy looks at you over his broad shoulder and your gaze meets a pair of green eyes framed with long lashes and a curious look in them.

“No worries, Love,” he smiles and you almost gasp at the British accent that laces through his voice. You take a quick moment to inspect the man, he is standing almost a full head above you, wearing a simple black shirt and brown slacks, a set of bulky rings sitting on his fingers that are spread out on the counter in front of him, his whole left arm covered in ink and you feel the urge to examine every figure on his golden skin. His chocolate curls are kind of a mess, but still look well placed, you bet he is the type who only runs his fingers through his hair and makes it look breathtaking. He is handsome and definitely your type, looks older than you, but you wouldn’t think he is over thirty.

“What’s your order?” he asks and your eyes snap up to him, realizing he is still looking at you.

“Huh?”

“What’s your order? I’ll get it for you so you don’t have to wait longer.” “Oh, I’ll just have a stout,” you tell him, feeling a little flushed from his offer. His eyebrows rise in surprise. “What?”

“Didn’t take you as a stout person is all,” he smirks at you as the bartender appears in front of him with his drink, asking if he wants anything else. “And a stout, please.” The guy nods and disappears to get your drink.

“I uhh—I only have card though,” you speak up realizing you can’t pay it back to him.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s on me.”

“Oh, no, that wouldn’t be fair,” you protest and he seems amused that you don’t just let him pay for your drink.

“How about this: you pay for the next round. Me and my mates are sitting over there, just come over when you finish this,” he offers, pointing at two guys sitting a few booths away from you and your friends.

“This was supposed to be my last round. I have to work in the morning,” you breathe out tilting your head.

“What? Work on Saturday? What kind of job is so cruel to make you work on a Saturday morning?” he asks with a boyish smile.

“One that pays my bills and most importantly my beer,” you chuckle softly.

“Okay, then make it just a soda,” he cheekily says and you feel giddy that this man is so keen on having another drink with you.

“I guess that could work,” you smile just as the bartender appears with your drink and the handsome man pays for the drinks, just then you realize you don’t even know his name. “I’m Y/N, by the way,” you tell him taking your beer. He tugs his wallet into his pocket before holding a hand out for you.

“Harry. Nice to meet you,” he smiles warmly and the moment you take his hand, you feel the tiny sparks. This man is surely something else. “I’ll be waiting for our next round,” he cheekily tells you raising his glass before the two of you part and go back to your own groups. As expected, your friends are already waiting for you with wide eyes and excitement, having witnessed your little chat with Harry at the bar.

“Who was that?! No, wait, it doesn’t matter. You need to go home with him!” Abigail smacks her hand to the table earning a chuckle from you.

“Don’t be dramatic, I just met him.”

“And you have to get to know him better. Deeper, you know what I mean?” Mona prompts.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you all. He is hot, but I’m not looking to day anyone right now.”

“You know, it’s starting to get boring to hear you say that you are just working on yourself these days. That’s not what you’re doing,” Piper gives you a look. “You are wasting your time on work and school and all these stuff that will be there when you’re older. Live a little, Y/N!” she begs.

“You guys make me appear like a no fun bitch, but that’s not who I am!” you defend yourself, though you know they just want the best for you.

“A fun bitch would ditch us right now and go over to their booth and then ride his dick all night.”

You gasp at the unfiltered answer you just heard from Mona, but deep down, you know she is right. You haven’t really let yourself be a little crazy in a while, your one night stands stopped the moment you graduated and stepped into the world of work. It just didn’t fit into your everydays, you had a lot to worry about, making a living and keeping your life on track, but you have it all now. What’s stopping you from hooking up with a cute guy?

“I’m not gonna just ditch you guys, came here to spend time with you!”

“Shut up, we are leaving then,” Abigail snaps, downing the rest of her drink in a blink of an eye and for a moment you’re speechless.

“What? No! We never get to spend quality time together, all four of us!”

“Honey,” Mona sighs. “We love you and we know you need this. So go, get the tatted hottie and we’ll meet up another time when you’ll get to tell us all about how good the D was.”

“Jesus, you guys are unbelievable,” you chuckle shaking your head, accepting the fact that they are really forcing you to do this.

They all quickly finish their drinks and get ready to leave, hugging you before they exit the place, leaving you alone in the booth. Staring down at the stout in front of you, feeling nervous to just walk up to the guys a few tables away, though Harry told you to go over, however he didn’t invite you to join their group, just promised another round.

You take a few long gulps, hoping the strong drink will bring out your courage and before you could talk yourself down you grab your bag and drink, heading over to Harry and his friends. He is sitting at the far end so he easily spots you walking over, perching up in his seat when he sees you approaching.

“Hey,” you greet them all with a shy smile, waving around. There’s a blond guy sitting across Harry and a brunette with equally as many tattoos on his arms as Harry.

“Hey, you haven’t finished your drink,” Harry observes with a small smirk.

“Um, no. But my friends left and I was wondering if I could… join you guys.”

“Oh, the honor is yours! Take a seat beautiful!” the blonde one immediately slides further into the booth so you can sit across Harry. “I’m Niall, what’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“So very nice to meet you,” he grins at you, words thick with Irish accent. “That’s Louis over there,” he gestures towards the third man who nods in your way with a welcoming smile.

“Hi. I’m hoping I’m not interrupting though.”

“Oh, never,” Niall shakes his head immediately. “We saw you chatting up Harry at the bar, have been teasing him about going up to you since then,” he cheekily comments and you see Harry giving him a look, but Niall couldn’t care less.

All three of them are hilarious and you love the dynamic in their friendship. Niall is clearly the loud one, Louis is the cheeky who is always up for some mischief and Harry is somewhat the serious bloke, but it’s clear he doesn’t say no to any crazy ideas his two friends make up. You love the teasing and joking, they make you feel welcomed and as if you’d known them for longer than just an hour. As promised, you pay for Harry’s next drink, but you stick to just a lemonade, not wanting to overstep your own boundaries.

All while you’re sitting with the guys, you keep catching Harry eyeing you, your gazes meet over your drinks and at one point you feel his leg finding yours under the table, your ankles pressing together as he nudges you with his feet. You feel like a giddy teenager flirting with her crush, Harry’s effect on you is probably very clear too, but you don’t care.

Louis is the first one to leave and Niall follows not long later, leaving you alone with Harry. The nerves are raging in you as you try to figure out which way to take it. Though he seems like a nice guy, you still don’t want to take it any further than a hookup. Dating is just not in the cards for you right now. But how do you imply a one night stand? Do you ask him to come to your place? Or do you go to his? You would rather go to his so you can sneak out first thing in the morning, spare you an awkward talk over breakfast before you leave.

“We should… get going too,” you suggest and Harry nods in agreement, finishing up the last gulps of his beer. You take a deep breath and decide to just be straight forward. “Maybe I could go to yours? Have another round there?” Your suggestion comes out fainter than you intended, but you still manage to sound confident. Harry seems a little surprised, but he doesn’t voice it.

“Another? Thought you were done for the night,” he tells with an amused smirk.

“I’m sure you have something alcohol free,” you shrug innocently.

“I surely do,” he nods. “Alright, let’s get going.

He calls an Uber and the two of you sit close in the car, thighs touching and at one point his large hand finds your thigh, squeezing it gently that sets a fire in your core almost immediately. It’s been long you’ve been touched by a man, you were starting to forget what it feels like, but you know Harry will remind you well about it.

He lives in a nice townhouse and you note how it’s not too far from the campus you’ll be going to a lot in a week. He keys the two of you in, switching the lights on in his cozy home. It’s not messy, more like lived in. A lot of books everywhere, the furniture doesn’t match, but all together, the whole place is pulled together somehow. It’s very like him.

“So, what would you like to drink?” he asks walking into the open concept kitchen, grabbing two glasses from the cupboard. “I have some tea, orange juice, water…”

As you watch his broad back, his muscles moving under the soft fabric of his shirt, you quickly forget about any drink. You want him and you want him now. Walking up to him you slide between him and the kitchen counter, catching him by surprise when you cup his face in your hands and pull him down into a hard kiss, but a moment later his arms wrap around you, lifting you up from the ground until you are sat on the counter. You open your knees so he stands between them, his crotch meeting yours as you kiss messily, all tongues, tugging and nipping, but oh my! You absolutely love it. The man has a mouth full of magic and you can only imagine what else he can do with those lips.

A whimpered moan leaves your mouth when you feel his growing bulge rub against your core as his lips travel down your jawline and throat, kissing and licking on your heated skin.

“Harry, bedroom,” you demand grabbing onto his shoulders and he doesn’t waste a moment, picking you up into his arms and heading somewhere down the hallway. You can’t quite comprehend what way it is, you’re way too lost in the feeling of his lips on your collarbone and neck, surely leaving marks on you.

He lays you down to a king sized bed and gets on top of you right away, following his wandering down your body. His ring clad fingers work fast on the hem of your shirt, pulling it off you in a moment before he kneels up and gets rid of his own shirt. He looks breathtaking, all the tattoos littering his chest and stomach, you just want to kiss all of them, feel his skin on your lips.

As he unbuckles his leather belt you push down your skinny jeans, throwing the item to the side without ever taking your hands off him. The man surely has all your attention.

When his slacks join the rest of your clothes on the floor he climbs on top of you again, kissing down the valley between your breasts that are still covered in the lacy bra. Your underwear doesn’t match, but something is telling you Harry is more eager to see you without them than to examine them. When he hooks his fingers into your panties and starts pulling them down, you reach to your back, unclasping the bra and in a blink of an eye, you’re lying completely naked in front of him.

“Fuck, you look so hot, Y/N,” he breathes out before those magical lips start working on your nipples, making you moan and whimper under him.

Kissing down your stomach he spreads your thighs wide, gazing down at your naked sex and for a moment you feel a little self-conscious, but the lust in Harry’s eyes quickly makes it disappear.

“You’re gonna let me have a taste, baby?” he murmurs, sending shivers down your spine as you nod eagerly.

He is not a tease. Harry dives right in, his lips meeting your clit, working his magic and you cry out his name, fingers tangling into his locks to keep him in place, not that he is about to stop anytime soon. He clearly enjoys pleasuring you.

“Oh fuck!” you gasp when his tongue runs down your slit and he slowly pushes into you, making your back arch. You need him inside you, you need him to fill you up right now or else you’ll burst. “Harry,” you breathe out, tugging on his shoulders, urging him to come back up.

He climbs up your body, a satisfied smirk on his glistening lips and when he kisses you hungrily, you can taste yourself on him.

“Condom,” you urge him, hands pushing down on his briefs, lips still locked as he reaches to the bedside table. You hear the familiar sound of the package ripping before he leans back, your eyes falling on his naked erection for the first time and your lips part seeing his cock, knowing already he’ll feel you up so well. He rolls the condom on easily before returning to you, but you don’t stay in that position too long. You want to ride this man, see him come undone under you. Being on top is already one of your favorite positions, but with Harry, you just know it’s going to be amazing.

You push on his shoulder and he understands your intention without a spoken word, so he rolls to his back and lets you straddle him, glancing down at his cock that’s now grazing his lower stomach, so hard and throbbing just for you. His fingers dig into your hips when you wrap a hand around his length, positioning him to your center.

“Oh fuck!” he moans when you ease down, his cock filling you up inch to inch, feeling so amazing like nothing before.

“Shit,” you breathe out gasping when you sit on him fully, taking his whole length inside you, stretching your insides so nicely, your wet walls hugging him perfectly.

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs lowly as you start buckling your hips, moving back and forth, up and down, the friction you’re creating swallowing you up entirely.

Harry can’t take his eyes off you, a hand wandering up to cup your breast and you cover his hand with yours, encouraging him to squeeze, making you moan passionately. He starts buckling his hips in sync with your movements, meeting you with every little thrust, hitting just the right spots, building up your orgasm so easily like no man has ever done before.

“Harry, oh God!” you moan, falling forward, leaning onto your arms next to his head, your lips meet in a hungry and demanding kiss as he wraps his arms around your body, thrusting up into you hard and so good, you whimper against his lips.

“You’re gonna cum for me, baby? I wanna see you feel good,” he pants, never slowing down. A few moments later he rolls the two of you around, your back hitting the sheets again as he moves one of your legs to rest on his shoulder, hitting a spot that almost makes you see stars.

“Oh yes! There! Don’t fucking stop!” you cry out so loud, you can only hope the walls are thick enough to keep your voice locked in the room.

“Not planning to,” he chuckles shortly before burying his face in the crook of your neck. You hold onto him for dear life, fingers digging into his sweaty skin, feeling as if you are melting into him.

Harry rocks into you relentlessly, your toes curling as you feel your orgasm finally arriving, making you gasp for air.

“Harry! I’m gonna cum!” you moan and he lifts his head, never stopping, not even for a second. His green eyes lock on your gaze, curls flopping into his forehead as he watches you in awe.

“Let it go for me, baby. Cum all over me, I wanna see how good I’m making you feel.”

“So fucking good!”

He picks up his pace just enough to make you lose your mind. It hits you like a pile of bricks, your orgasm washing over you in intense waves as you moan his name again and again. Your walls clench around him and it’s enough to throw him over the edge as well. His thrusts become uncoordinated and harder as his mouth hangs open.

“Fuck, Y/N! You feel so fucking amazing!” he whimpers through his pleasure and you watch him fall apart, panting and gasping for air, trying to remember every little detail about him. This is an experience you surely won’t forget and will probably fantasize about a lot when you’re alone at home, playing with yourself, seeking release.

A few more sloppy thrusts later he stops, kissing your lips passionately before he pulls out and falls to the mattress next to you. You both need a few minutes to recover from it, just panting and laying numbly next to each other, Harry’s arm thrown over your stomach. You turn to the side and immediately meet his glistening eyes, filled with satisfaction and bliss. When he finally recollects himself he pecks your lips softly before leaving the bed. You watch him remove the used condom, tie it and toss it into the small trash can near his dressed before he moves to the bathroom. When he reappears, he is wearing a fresh pair of boxers and he has a wet washcloth in his hand. Sitting beside you he gently cleans you up as you murmur your thank you.

“Want something to sleep in?” he asks then and you nod. He grabs you a t-shirt and a pair of loose shorts that you put on gladly. They smell exactly like him, soap, something citrus-like and a hint of anise.

He returns to bed and pulls you into his embrace, you gladly make yourself comfortable curled up to his side. Lying there, feeling his fingers gently running up and down your arm almost makes you want more from him. You could get used to share a bed with him and it’s not just because of the mind-blowing sex, but he is a lovable person. You feel bad you’re planning to leave without a trace in the morning, but then you tell yourself it’s what has to happen.

Harry doses off soon and you follow him right after, the warmth of his body puts you to sleep easily. When you wake up it’s still clearly early. Harry is sleeping soundly next to you, face squished into the pillow and you almost stay, wanting to see what he’s like in the morning, but you don’t let yourself change your mind.

You get dressed into your own clothes and leave the ones he lent you on top of his dresser. You tiptoe out of his room and grab your bag before looking for a piece of paper and a pen. You quickly scribble down a short note for him.

“Had fun last night. Hope you won’t be mad, but I only saw it as a one night stand. You’re an amazing man, Harry. I’m glad we met. Xx –Y/N”

It’s more than nothing, than leaving without a word and you don’t let the guilt take over you. Taking one last look around, glancing in the way of the bedroom where he is still asleep, you pack it all up and put it to the back of your mind before walking out.

The last week before your classes start passes by faster than you imagined. It’s your last week fully in the office so you try to work a little ahead, staying in afterhours so you won’t have that much to take care of while you get used to being a uni student again. You usually get home after nine and basically fall into bed right away, and you even work during the weekend before the Monday when school starts. You go to bed way too late so it’s not a surprise you wake up late. You get ready in a rush, throwing out your plan to get a coffee on your way out the window since you are way behind time. Running across campus you’re lucky you already know your way around so you don’t have to wander around, looking for the room you have to be at, but even when you finally reach the right hallway you’re ten minutes late to the class.

Introduction to International Relations, held by Prof. Styles, 8.30-10.00, it reads on the little timetable attached to the way next to the closed doors and you pray the man didn’t start in time, so you’d be late with just a few minutes. Taking a deep breath you push the door open trying to make no sound and unfortunately, you are met with an auditorium full of people, everyone looking at you as if it was against the law to be a little late to class.

What the Hell is wrong with students these days? Being late was usual when I was a freshman, you think to yourself as you step inside, closing the door behind you, getting ready to apologize to the professor.

“I’m so sorry, Professor Styles, I—Shit,” you end your sentence with a whisper as your eyes fall on the man standing on the podium. He hasn’t turned to you, his eyes are fixed on a paper in his hand, probably the syllabus because he must have been in the middle of introducing the class, but the sudden whispering that starts upon your apology that turned into shit, he finally looks up and his eyes fall on your frozen figure.

Professor Styles is none other than Harry. As in The Harry you met at the pub a week ago, had the best sex with and left without leaving your number to him in the morning. Now he is staring back at you with the same amount of panic and surprise as you.

“What—I uhh…” He clears his throat, looking around and seeing about a hundred pairs of curious eyes who are witnessing the awkward run-in. “Take a seat,” he then firmly says, clenching his jaw as you nod.

With your heart beating in your throat you keep your eyes down on your feet as you rush over to a free seat somewhere at the front, since the back is already kinda full.

“So, uhh—As I was saying this is an introduction so we’ll talk about a lot of different topics, I want you to have a view of the most important aspects before moving onto separate fields.”

You don’t dare to look up as Harry talks about the class, the syllabus, how the semester will be built up and what you’ll have to do to pass. Scribbling your wobbly notes, you nervously bounce your legs under the desk, flashbacks from your time with him popping into your mind through the whole lecture.

This feels like something straight out of a ridiculous movie. How is it possible, that the one time you finally decide to have a one night stand with a hot guy, he turns out to be your professor?! That’s just your luck, it seems.

Harry doesn’t drag the lecture long, dismisses everyone after an hour once every question has been answered. You plan to escape right away, but it turns out Harry doesn’t want to just sweep it under the rug.

“Can I have a word with you?” he asks stepping to your desk as you are furiously shoving your stuff into your bag.

“Uh, sure,” you nod, not like you have a choice. You’d love to run, but he is your professor, it would sit well if you ditched him on the first day of school.

You slow your packing down so you finish right when the last student has left the room. Grabbing your bag you turn to face Harry who now seems furious, vivid if you might say. He strides over to the door and shuts it before facing you.

“You said you’re working!” is the first thing he throws at you, making you raise your eyebrows.

“Because I am! I’m finishing my masters so I can get a promotion!” you defend yourself.

“Wait, so how old are you?” he asks with a puzzled look.

“I’m twenty-four, what did you think?” You feel offended, did he think you were younger or older? Neither would sit well anyway, so there’s no good answer.

“I-I don’t know, but when you walked right into my class I surely thought you were twenty or something,” he explains exhaling sharply. “Okay, so twenty-four. But still, you could have told me you are a student here.”

“Excuse you? Why would have I told you, we met that night, of course I didn’t share my whole fucking life with you! Besides, you didn’t say a thing about being a college professor either,” you spat at him and it seems like he realizes your argument is quite valid. He can’t blame it all on you.

“Okay, you’re right. Sorry.”

There’s a short silence as the anger dies down and the awkwardness and shock returns. It’s such an impossible situation, you never thought you’d have to deal with anything similar. Having an affair with your professor? This shit is straight out of some teenage drama.

“I can… drop the lecture, if you want. Only took it as extra credit, because I was interested in it,” you offer the first rational option that comes to your mind.

“No, I mean… you don’t have to. Messing around with credits at this time sucks, you wouldn’t be able to find something else.”

“Okay, so then what?”

“I guess we’ll just pretend like nothing happened,” he shrugs before his eyes meet yours. “Like you did in the morning when you left without leaving your number.”

His comment spikes, you can tell he was hurt that you didn’t stay, though now is probably not the best time to bring it up.

“Well, sorry. I didn’t think of it as more,” you dryly say.

“That’s not how you came off, however. Having laughs with me and my friends like we’ve known each other for years and then…” he doesn’t finish, but you have an idea what he wanted to say. And then you had insanely good sex and fell asleep cuddling. It feels illegal to even think about it in this building.

“Look, I’m really sorry I left like that, but look at it this way: if we would have taken it further, it would be way worse now, wouldn’t it?”

“Maybe we would have talked more later and found out about this and wouldn’t have had to face each other under these circumstances.”

He has a point, but it doesn’t matter now. The past is the past and you have to figure out how to treat this odd situation.

“You think you can forget about it and we can be professional? I really don’t want this to affect my studies,” you truthfully ask. Harry stares at you for a long moment before nodding.

“I think we can make it work. We are both adults, let’s put it behind us.” You nod, satisfied with his answer. “So what’s your major and why do you need it for your job?”

“It’s communication. I’m set to take over our international partnership groups, but the board is set on having someone with a higher degree. I told my boss I started it back then but never finished when I started working. He said I would instantly get the position if I finished my masters, so… here I am.”

Harry nods, chewing on your answer. Suddenly, as you look at him, guilt washes over you. He is such a genuine and lovely man, yet you left so abruptly, never even giving him a chance. Not that it would have made this situation any different, but it seems like you hurt him.

“Harry, I really am sorry for leaving. I had a great time with you, but I don’t think dating just fits into my life right now. I felt like you’d want more and I didn’t want to deal with all the explaining and apologizing.”

“I get it. It just would have been nicer to talk it out. Not that it makes a change now,” he adds with a soft smile.

“So we’re good?” you ask hopefully.

“Yeah. Professional and all,” he smiles nodding and you feel like a rock has been lifted off your shoulders.

“Great. Well, I guess I’ll see you later, professor,” you add a little cheekily and you see the fire in his eyes instantly, but he holds his tongue, not commenting on how sexual it sounds from your mouth. You couldn’t miss out on the teasing.

“Dismissed,” he nods turning away from you as he walks back to his desk. You walk out with the longest sigh that’s ever left your lips.

“Professor Styles! You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Piper screams at you over Facetime later that week when the two of you have your usual little chat. You’re making dinner while she lies on her couch, staring at you from the screen with the widest eyes. You just told him the whole thing with Harry and she almost choked. “The man is a professor? This shit is wild!” “Not just a professor, he is my fucking teacher, Piper!” you chuckle awkwardly. You still haven’t fully wrapped your mind around the fact that you hooked up with your professor.

“How old is the dude to be teaching at a university?”

“Well, he said he is twenty-nine. I might have done a little search and since he is british, schooling was a little different for him. Apparently, he finished high school early as a fucking genius that he is, then uni, masters and everything. He started teaching at my school two years ago. The guy is like a big name in the field of social sciences.”

“Damn, he is a gem. So what’s gonna happen now? Y’all gonna fuck on his desk after class?”

“Piper!” you snap at her.

“What? I hope you’re not thinking about passing on him.”

“I passed on him way before I knew he was my professor. We can’t have anything going on because one, he is my professor and two, because I’m not looking for anyone to date.”

“You are so full of bullshit, Y/N,” she snorts. “So what if he is your professor? Just for this semester. Keep it a secret and then it’s done. You’re not some eighteen year-old freshman, he is just five years older than you.”

“You can’t be serious,” you shake your head. “I’m not going to have an affair with my teacher.”

“Not an affair, a relationship! You gotta hold onto good dick if you find one. This is what I did with Ronan,” she smirks satisfied.

“Yeah, it’s not happening.”

“Why not?”

“Piper, have you been listening to what I was saying?” you ask in disbelief. “Yeah, five years is not much, but I’m pretty sure there’s a rule against teachers dating students.”

“Rules are for losers. You literally found the perfect guy and you’ll just throw him away? Said it yourself after your hookup that you liked the guy. Why are you being so difficult?”

“Sorry for not wanting to get myself or Harry out of the university,” you scoff turning the stove off under the sauce before you burn it all.

“Harry? So you’re just calling him Harry?” Piper wiggles her eyebrows at you, leaning closer to the camera and you just groan at her. How was this the only thing that stuck to her?

“I can’t fucking believe you,” you mumble under your breath.

“Okay, yeah, I get you. I truly do. But I’m also your friend who wants to see you happy. So I’m just saying that if he makes a move… be open. He is your professor for only one semester, so once it’s over you are free to do whatever. Fuck, date, anything.”

Soon enough you fall into a pattern with your everydays. Mondays, Tuesdays and Friday mornings are for school. Wednesdays and Thursdays are spent on campus at your lectures and you usually go into the office on Friday afternoons to make sure everything works fine before you go off for the weekend. Having so many credits accepted from before, you have less classes meaning that you have less work to do with school as well. There are a few papers and assignments, but nothing too crazy. You genuinely enjoy your classes, each of them unique in a different way but if you’re being honest, Harry’s class is your favorite. He has done a great job at building up the lectures. Introduction classes tend to be shallow and boring, but not Harry’s. He has chosen interesting but still important topics and he makes sure the students are always involved and he isn’t just reading up his slides dully. There are a lot of discussions, everyone gets to tell their opinion and Harry genuinely seems interested in anything his students have to say.

You also came to realize his class is full of girls, only a handful of men dared to sign up. You didn’t pay attention the first time for obvious reasons, but as you looked around the next week you saw heart eyes and lustful gazes towards the man standing on the podium talking. You’re not sure if Harry doesn’t notice it or just chooses to ignore it, but he is doing a good job at staying professional. In the aspect of your situation as well.

For a bit you were afraid he would have hard feelings towards you or treat you differently, but it’s not the case. You are just another pair of curious eyes and ears at his lectures, only that sometimes you catch yourself daydreaming about that one night. When that happens you can always feel yourself blushing and an irrational fear that Harry can hear your thoughts invades your mind, though it’s stupid. But you always try to stay low just in case.

It’s early October when an unexpected project lands in your hands at work, setting you back in your schedule. You work through the weekend just to get it right but that means that you couldn’t start working on your paper for Harry’s class that has to be turned in by the end of the week. So next Monday morning when class is over you walk up to him to ask for some more time.

“Hey, can I have a word with you?” you ask and as he glances up at you he seems surprised you initiated a private conversation.

“Sure, what’s the matter?”

“I just wanted to ask if I could have just a little more time to turn my paper in. I know it’s due Friday, but I’m a little behind and it would be amazing if I could work on it on the weekend. I’m sure I’d be done by next Monday.”

You’re afraid he might think you want to use your history and take advantage of it, but it seems like Harry looks more concerned than upset about your request.

“Yeah, sure. Everything alright though?”

Your eyes wander around the room, only a few more people are left inside and they are heading out as well. For some reason, you are a little paranoid that someone might figure out what happened between you and Harry though it’s nearly impossible.

“I’m good, I just got some extra work last week and it totally threw me off.”

“Oh, what kind of project?”

“I just have to put together a communication plan for three of our partners and it’s taking way more time than I expected,” you admit with a chuckle.

“I think I have an amazing book about international communication plans. I could lend it to you, if you’d like. It has amazing tips on sustainability.”

“That would be… amazing,” you say, surprised by his nice offer.

“Are you on campus tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I have a lecture. I can come by your office.”

“Fantastic,” he smiles warmly. “And don’t worry about the paper. You’re not the first one to ask for more time. If you hand it in on Monday it’s gonna be perfectly fine,” he assures you.

“Thank you Harry. I-I mean Professor Styles,” you correct yourself, feeling awkward that you called him by his first name, but he just chuckles.

“You can call me Harry outside class.” “Okay,” you smile nodding. “Then, see you tomorrow,” you say as you leave the room.

You spend the rest of the day working unfortunately, still a lot to do with your project. It’s hard to harmonize three different companies from three nations, working in different time zones. The next day you decide to skip your lecture in the noon. The professor is not too strict on attendance so you’re just gonna find a nice coffee place, set up a temporary office and work some more so you can finish everything on time.

You find Harry’s office easily. The door is open and you spot him sitting behind his desk right away, searching for something in a stack of papers. His office resembles a lot to his home, it has a cozy vibe but looks still very much academic with all the books lining on the shelves on the two sides of his desk. You knock on the doorframe as you arrive and his green eyes shoot up to your figure.

“Hey! Come on in!” he smiles at you. “Just a moment please,” he asks, still vigorously flipping the pages until he finally stops. “Here it is, I’ve been looking for it for ages,” he mumbles to himself and you smile. He looks a lot like the version of him you met at the bar. A fun, nice guy, clearly a little lost in his own world, but it amuses you rather then annoys. You wonder what could be happening in that brilliant mind of his.

He pushes himself away from the table and walks over to his bag that lies on the small sofa in the corner. Digging into it he pulls out a thick book that he hands over to you.

“Wow, lengthy,” you chuckle as you flip through the pages quickly.

“Yeah, looks a little dry but I promise it’s good. I put a note to the chapters that are the most relevant to you,” he explains and just then you spot a yellow post-it on one of the pages, a few more following behind.

“Oh, thank you. That’s really nice of you.” You smile up at him warmly, holding the book to your chest. “I’ll bring it back as soon as I’m done.”

“Take your time,” he nods. “And how is it going so far?”

“Uh, it’s… going,” you say with a tired chuckle. “It’s a little tricky, but I’m sure I’ll solve it. I’m gonna work some more on it now, so hopefully I’ll be done within the next few days.”

“You’re not going to class?”

“No, I allowed myself a skip this week so I’m gonna find a café or something.”

“You could… stay here, if you’d like. I could even help if you let me have a look at it. I mean I’m not an expert in communication but I’m good with multicultural stuff.” His offer catches you by surprise and for a moment you want to say no, but then you realize he might actually be helpful. Another set of eyes is always beneficial.

“You don’t have a class?”

“Not until four, no.”

“And you sure I can stay? I don’t want to bother you.”

“You’re not. Please, I would love to take a look at what you’ve put together.”

You hesitate for another moment, but then let your bag slip off your shoulder as you walk over to the armchair in front of his desk.

You pull your laptop out of your bag and set it on the table so both of you can see from the two sides of the desk. You open up what you have so far, explaining it in details and Harry listens intently, nodding and humming along so you know he is following. At the end you tell him your concerns, the ones you’ve been trying to rule out these past few days so you can finish it all up.

“This looks amazing, Y/N. I’m very impressed by the way you synchronized it all.” “Thank you, but it’s not perfect, so I have a lot to work on. Any thoughts though?”

Harry asks you a few questions before he gives his two cents, telling you what he would do and change. His point of view actually helps a lot, allows you to see the whole thing from a different angle and he gives you some awesome tips. Before you could realize, the two of you are deep in the project, all kinds of books splattered across his desks as you work together to finish the thing. Two hours pass by as it was just two minutes, but at the end, you have it all figured out.

“Oh my God. I can’t believe it’s done!” you breathe out, scrolling through the document you put together for your boss. Everything is put together, well-thought and in place, thanks to Harry’s help. “Harry, thank you. You literally saved my life,” you chuckle softly, leaning back in the armchair you haven’t left in hours.

“You had a strong base, I just helped you find a few solutions, but it was all you.”

“Don’t belittle it, you literally had so many ideas even in fields you are not familiar with. You really are a genius.”

“I’m just good at using my sources,” he smiles at you, glancing down at all the books he has pulled out during the process. “It was fun working on something so practical, I’m way too used to literal things.”

“Oh stop, you want me to feel bad because you are this ridiculously smart college professor who doesn’t get to work on practical projects?” you tease him earning a boyish smile.

“Maybe I do want that.”

“Well, you’re not getting it,” you laugh and he joins you. Once the mood settles you realize how good it felt to be around him. The dynamic the two of you had was so great, working with him felt like a fun activity. And now that you’re done, you really don’t want to leave this office though you know you have to.

“You know, I might come to you with work stuff all the time. You just spared so much time for me, I really thought I wouldn’t finish before Friday.”

“My door is always open,” he smirks shrugging. “I’m glad we got to work together. You really are great at what you are doing. Your boss is lucky to have you around. I’m sure you’ll be an amazing group leader once you get your degree.”

“Thank you.”

His compliment actually means a lot. Aside from this weird situation, Harry is a brilliant mind in his field. Hearing him tell you that he thinks you are doing an amazing work is such a boost to your ego.

“Well, I owe you one for this,” you tell him as you start packing up.

“Yeah? I’ll keep that in mind for sure,” he smirks, watching you put your things away.

“Mhm, see you around, Harry,” you smile, waving in his way before walking out.

“See you, Y/N.”

Thanks to Harry you get to turn in your project in time and write his paper until the original due date as well. You send it in email and for your biggest surprise he answers later that day.

“Glad you could finish in time, can’t wait to read your thoughts on the topic! –H”

It’s a simple message, but what catches your eyes is the signature at the end. It reads his full name, Prof. Harry Edward Styles, the school’s name, his official office hours and at the very end… his phone number.

Looking at it you think it seems a little out of place, as if it doesn’t belong there originally, he just added it to your email, but you can’t tell. Is this a hint? Does he want you to call or text him? What if he puts it into every email, not just yours? Would it be awkward to text? Why do you even want to text him in the first place? You agreed to stay away from him!

It keeps eating you the whole evening, staying on your mind, doesn’t matter what you do. After you’ve drunk a glass of wine with your dinner you finally make up your mind, convincing yourself it’s strictly friendly as you type in the words.

Y/N: Turned my project in, my boss already emailed me he likes it so far. Thanks for the help again. –Y/N

His reply comes fast and luckily, he doesn’t question why you decided to text him.

Harry: Glad I could help! Ran over your paper, looks great too. You’re doing an amazing job, Y/N.

There’s no stopping after that. The two of you keep talking through texts and though it’s all casual and friendly, you don’t feel bad about it, because in class, you still keep it professional and you have no advantage. He treats you just like any other student, keeping your friendship away from whatever happens in the classroom.

The line slowly starts to blur, however. You think way more about Harry than you should and you actually find yourself regretting that you’re not able to get as close to him as you want. He fascinates and attracts you in ways no one ever could before and something is telling you he shares these feelings, but you are both keeping it at bay, afraid what would happen if you let your desires take the lead. You just wish you could go out with him, have drinks with him and his friends like the night you met him, forget about how he would always stand on the podium on Monday morning no matter what happens and he’ll be grading your papers. Mixing feelings with this impossible situation might turn it into a disaster and you know you have to stay strong, but it’s getting harder.

Harry is the kind of teacher who likes to finish his class before everyone else, so when December rolls around everyone already has their grades from the papers that had to be turned in through the semester, so when December rolls around it’s all just free talks, he starts interesting discussions about topics students want to talk about. His lectures feel like free time but still, no one skips them because they are always so entertaining and interesting.

“Alright, we’ll meet for the last time next week. As per suggested, we’ll talk about the European Union so get your questions and thoughts ready,” he smiles around, ending the lecture. “Y/N? Can we talk for a second?”

“Sure,” you smile at him. Putting your things away you walk up to his desk much more carelessly than before.

“So I have a question and you can totally tell me if you don’t want to go, but there’s this great International Affairs Summit next weekend just a few towns over, not more than a two hours ride. I thought that you might be interested in going? They’ll have some awesome presentations and displays, thought it might interest you.”

For the first time since you’ve met him, he seems nervous, stumbling over his words a little as he avoids looking into your eyes. He looks so much younger, not at all like the respected professor that he is. He is just Harry now, the guy you bonded over that stout he paid for.

“Sounds nice,” you answer smiling at him, he seems surprised at your answer. “I would love to go.”

“Really?” You chuckle at his disbelief.

“Really.”

“Just to be clear it’s not a school thing, it’s gonna be the two of us,” he clears and your grin widens.

“It’s clear. Still want to go.”

“Amazing,” he breathes out, a smile finally tugging on his lips. “I can pick you up in the morning.”

“Sure. Can we discuss the details in text? I have a meeting soon.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. We’ll talk later,” he nods enthusiastically, seemingly very joyful that you agreed to go on this trip with him.

“See you later, Harry!” you wave at him walking out of the classroom.

“Later!”

Piper would be very satisfied to know that you are going away with Harry this weekend. Though you still try to tell yourself it’s nothing more than just a friendly thing, you’re not fooling yourself. You want it to be more and now that the semester is over, your doubts and fears are almost fully forgotten and left at the beginning of September. Soon Harry won’t be your professor and you now see that it wouldn’t be that bad if something more happened between the two of you. You grew close through the year even though you only kept in touch through phone, appearing publicly wasn’t really an option, but still, you got to know him better and you liked him. A lot. There was no use in denying that.

Harry picks you up early in the morning and so the little trip begins. You take control over the music and play some of your favorites to him while he drives, educating him on recent popular music. Then he shows you some of his favorites, playing a lot of Fleetwood Mac and you weren’t expecting anything else from him.

He looks great today in a creamy colored knitted sweater, black wool coat and grey checkered slacks. His hair is now longer than when you met him for the first time, but it just adds to his amazing look, he rocks it pretty well.

The two hours pass by fast and you arrive to the Summit. Checking out the program the two of you choose the presentations you’re most interested in, leaving some time in the middle of the day to have lunch somewhere near.

You choose a sandwich bar that has a nice winter garden at the back looking out to a little pond. You sit at a small table, the conversation hasn’t stopped since the morning, only paused when the presentations were happening, but you always picked up right where you were before. Harry tells you about his time at university back in the UK and you’re a little surprised to hear that he was kind of a wild kid for a while.

“You? Wild?” you laugh. “I can’t picture it.

“It was mostly the first year though. Felt like I can’t miss out on anything so I was at every party and gathering,” he chuckles softly.

“And why did you stop?” “I don’t know,” he shrugs, but you know he is not telling you the truth, so you gently kick his leg under the table. “Alright, but you can’t laugh!”

“I won’t, I promise!”

“It sounds very nerdy, but I fell in love with studying. I mean I was always a good student, that’s why I could finish high school earlier, but I did it to be done with it already. But then I grew an odd love to studying, to learning new things. I wanted to read every book there is, know everything in the world.”

“And do you know everything now?” you ask with a soft smile, completely in awe with how he talks about his passion for sciences. You don’t find it funny at all, more admirable.

“Not even a fraction of it,” he chuckles. “But I learn something new every day,” he shrugs.

“What did you learn today?”

“That Nicki Minaj and Miley Cyrus had… beef?” He is a little unsure about the last word that you taught him today in the car when you were listening to a song from Miley. It sounds so funny hearing from his mouth.

“Yeah, beef,” you nod chuckling. “Great knowledge you’ve learned today.”

“I learn a lot from you,” he smiles cheekily. “But really. I’m glad you could come today. Felt like I needed to take this step since you took the one before this.”

“Huh?” you ask, a little confused about what he is talking about. Then, as if he realizes he just said something he shouldn’t have, he chuckles nervously, keeping his eyes on his iced tea on the table.

“Well, I hope this won’t be too weird, but when you emailed me your paper back in October and I replied… I put my phone number into my signature and told myself that if you use it, I’ll take it as a hint that you… are open to more. And you did send me a text, took the risk so I thought I should be taking it next.”

You look at him in awe. So you were right, he did put his number in just for you and wanted you to use it. You’re amazed at how sneaky he was to find out how you’re feeling about him, but now you’re glad you took the risk and texted him.

“So you asked me to come today. I see where we are standing,” you nod smirking.

“You’re not mad? At the number thing?”

“Why would I?” you ask with a soft chuckle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yes, but we agreed to keep it professional and all along I yearned for something more and threw you this hint. When I sent the email I wanted to take it back immediately, thinking that you’d see through me right away,” he admits.

“Well, I didn’t,” you tell him making him laugh. “I debated for a long time whether I should text you or not and then just… said fuck it!”

“I’m glad you did,” he smirks and his gaze holds yours for a little, you can feel the moment you’re sharing. This conversation has definitely opened a door for the two of you.

The rest of the day passes by peacefully. You love having Harry with you and discuss the presentations with him later. He has a great mind, you love sharing your thoughts with him, get deep whenever something really catches your attention. It’s so easy to talk to him and you actually feel like he values your thoughts, unlike some men you had to deal with in the past.

During the ride back home you keep thinking about whether you should take it any further or not. You surely don’t want him to be just a one night stand anymore, it’s still very fresh but you actually feel like you’ve started falling for him and you wonder where he is standing in the situation right now. Today has changed a lot so when he parks in front of your building, you decide to just risk it again, like you did it so many times with him.

“Would you want to come up for a little? I could show you that article I talked about today,” you say, trying to sound calm though you see the surprise in his eyes, he wasn’t expecting this invitation.

“I… would love to. You sure it’s not too late?”

“Positive,” you smirk at him unbuckling yourself.

He follows you up to your apartment. It’s definitely not as big as his home, but you take pride in it. It’s the perfect size for you and you’ve worked a lot on making it your home. Harry is looking around, inspecting the place as you walk into the small kitchen and grab two bottles of beer, offering one for him.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, following you to sit on the plush couch you adore so much. It feels like a cloud is swallowing you up. “This place suits you.”

“Thanks. You know, this is what I thought about yours too.”

“Yeah? I think mine is just a mess,” he chuckles, taking a sib from his beer.

“It’s a good mess. Liked it.”

There is some tension, but in a good way if you might say. As if you both were unsure about where it’s heading, walking on eggshells, not knowing where the boundaries are lying as of right now.

“You know, the semester is almost over,” you imply, giving him an innocent look.

“I’m very much aware of that, the pile of tests on my desk waiting to be graded reminds me every day of it,” he chuckles making you smile too.

“Mhm and it also means that very soon you won’t be my professor anymore.”

You scoot closer, your knees coming in contact with his thigh and he sucks on his breath, looking down at the spot where you two touch. You really hope he won’t turn you down, because you’ve already gotten your hopes up about making it work.

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” you nod confidently. He doesn’t move and you’re losing patience. So grabbing his beer from his hand you place his and yours as well to the small coffee table before shamelessly swinging a leg over him, sitting on his lap. Your hands rest on his broad shoulders and his hands immediately find their way to your waist, his thumb caressing the skin that shows from under your ridden up shirt. However you see hesitation in his eyes.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s going on in your head, talk to me,” you ask him softly, tilting your head to the side.

“I just… I know soon it’s gonna be alright for us to… you know. But I… I hope you know it’s not a game for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“That I’m all in, Y/N. I know it’s been a crazy few months, but I really like you. A lot. I love talking to you, I love it when you are talking so passionately about things that interest you. I love how open and hardworking you are. I think that you’re an amazing person and I don’t want this to just be some passing, quick thing. I’m serious about this. About you.”

You can’t hold your growing smile back as your hands move up to cup his cheeks. Leaning closer you peck his lips softly.

“Great. Because I’m serious too.”

Harry breathes out in relief and a second later he is kissing you hungrily, letting his desire take over after holding back for so long. You weren’t the only one having a hard time during lectures. He hated how he always found himself looking in your way, thinking about how beautiful you are, how amazing it felt to hold you in his arms and it ached his heart that he had to keep himself so far away from you. When you took the risk and texted him, he could cry in excitement and he knew right in that moment that he is fucked for you.

Though it started a little rocky, now that he has you in his arms again, he wouldn’t change a thing, because it brought him to this very moment and he is overwhelmed with joy. He is more than ready to show you how serious he is about you, not just with his words but his actions, so he is quick to leave the couch and navigate into your bedroom to relive that mind-blowing night the two of you shared back in late August.

“Congrats, Miss Y/L/N. We are looking forward to seeing you work your magic as the leader of the group.” The executive manager shakes your hand and you see your boss from the corner of your eye, looking at you proudly.

“Thank you. I won’t disappoint,” you smile back.

You say your goodbye to everyone else in the room before finally heading out with the widest smile on your face. You did it. You finally got the promotion.

You finished your masters just a month ago and this meeting was scheduled almost immediately. For a while you were afraid they wouldn’t wait until you finish your studies, but they proved that they wanted no one else but you, making you feel so valued.

Walking back to your office you do the rest of your work left for the day, finishing up every pending task so you can be free for the weekend. When five o’clock finally comes you pack up and head out. Pushing through the double doors you step out into the warm July afternoon, immediately spotting a mop of curls you know all too well. Harry is waiting for you leant against his car with a huge bouquet of flowers, smiling at you with pride as he watches you cross the parking lot.

“What’s this for?” you ask teasingly when he pushes himself away from the car and kisses you softly before saying anything.

“A little something to celebrate your promotion.”

“How do you know I got it?” you ask, trying your best to sound serious. He narrows his eyes at you in suspicion.

“I knew you’d get it, who else would get it? Did they not fucking give it to you?” he asks, working himself up at the thought that you weren’t the one to get promoted.

“Relax, I got it,” you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him a little longer this time.

“I was ready to fight whoever I needed to,” he mumbles against your lips, a smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth.

“What a gentleman,” you giggle pecking his lips again.

“That I am. And not just because I would throw a fist for my love, but because I knew you’d get it so I went ahead and booked us a mini vacation for this weekend. So let’s head home, you have thirty minutes to pack before we leave,” he smirks down at you, clearly satisfied with himself.

Harry is always full of surprises. In the one and half year you’ve been officially together, he never failed to surprise you with the tiniest things, make you feel loved and appreciated no matter how long you’ve been dating.

“Where are we going?” you ask in excitement, eyebrows shooting up on your forehead.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”

Harry listened to every hint you’ve dropped how you’d love to spend some time away in some cabin in the woods, disconnecting from the world just for a little and he found the perfect place for that a few hours away. He knew you’d be the one to get promoted so he took the risk to book it weeks ahead, making sure you’ll have the perfect place for the celebration. You have a slight guess it’s gonna be like that because Harry is great at taking hints, but what you doesn’t know is that deep down his already packed suitcase, there’s a little velvety box with a ring inside it that he plans to put on your finger this weekend, hoping you’ll give him the answer he wants to hear.

And you will. Because you are head over heels in love with this man, have been for a while and you want to spend the rest of your life with him.

The two of you head home and your hand finds his over the shifting gear, lacing your fingers together with his. Glancing at you he kisses your knuckles, pressing a long kiss to your empty ring finger.

“I love you,” he tells you and the three little words never fail to make your heart flutter. While the lamp is still red you quickly lean over and steal a kiss from his soft, pink lips.

“I love you too, professor,” you tell him teasingly. He didn’t like it when you called him that back when he was still just your professor, but since the air has been clear, he grew a liking to it, especially because he can’t get enough of hearing you moan it in the bedroom.

You call him a lot of other pet names too. Baby, H, Har, Sweets, whatever comes to your mind while he likes calling you his baby, Angel, Princess or Love. And as the two of you head home he thinks about how he wants two new names to be added to the list. Husband and wife.

Thank you for reading! Please like and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

@harrysgloves

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles au #professor!harry #professor!harry au #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst

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rocorambles · 4 years ago

Text

Surprise Interview

Pairing: Kenma x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Pseudo-Cest, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Verbal Humiliation, Manipulation

Summary: Kenma sees if you have what it takes to be Bouncing Ball’s newest employee.

A/N: This is for @sugawara-sweetheart ‘s Decadence Collab. So excited to be a part of this collab and to be able to indulge in such a delicious prompt and theme. Be sure to check out everyone else’s works! As always, thanks for beta-ing @sawamooora ~

There’s a familiar peace and a new nervousness about coming back home for the holidays. Mostly because home isn’t quite the same home it used to be. You can feel warmth blooming in your chest at the thought of seeing your mom, telling her about everything and everyone (as if your daily phone calls aren’t enough), and just lounging around while she fills you up with her cooking. But you can also feel a certain shyness as you approach the house, a building that still feels brand new and strange to you.

Your mother had gotten remarried during your earlier college years after your father’s passing and you were elated for her. If anyone deserves all the happiness in the world, it’s her. You had met Mr. Kozume quite a few times and you have no qualms with the man. He treats your mother like a queen and even though you playfully gag as they sweet talk and kiss in front of you, you wholeheartedly approve of their relationship.

However, what you aren’t quite as prepared for is having a new step-sibling.

You don’t know much about Kenma Kozume. Well, not much more than the rest of the world does.

Professional gamer. Successful stock trader. Popular YouTuber. Founder of his own corporation.

You know exactly who your new brother is, but other than seeing him a few times in person at family gatherings and exchanging polite greetings, there’s no real connection. Which is why your heart races as you nervously ring his doorbell, anxiety already making your leg twitch as you wait for the door to open.

Your mother and step-father are on a couple’s vacation and won’t be returning for a few days.

(“We just want some romantic time together before we have a full house again for the holidays. Plus this is a great chance to get to know your older brother better!” You hadn’t even been able to get a word of protest in before she had laughed and hung up on you, leaving you speechless and on your own as you hesitantly texted Kenma, letting him know what day to expect you.)

Kenma is quiet as ever as he nods in greeting, silently leading you to your guest room before quietly telling you to make yourself at home and leaving to do his own thing. You let out a huge sigh of relief as the door closes behind him.

There’s nothing wrong with Kenma. He’s smart and successful. Maybe a bit on the quiet side, but that only adds to his down to earth charm. You know your mother and step-father adore him and you can’t blame them. Yet, you can’t help but feel scrutinized, seen so clearly in a way that terrifies you when his feline eyes gaze at you. It takes everything in you not to immediately scurry away whenever you’re in viewing distance of him, desperate to hide all the flaws you imagine he’s noticing and calculating. Your step-father had mentioned how Kenma used to be the strategist of his high school volleyball team, and has always been able to evaluate and accurately break down situations and people. And you believe it.

You’re just grateful the house is large enough to avoid each other and that Kenma tends to reside mostly in his home office and bedroom.

But even the founder of a company needs a break from time to time. Kenma shuffles towards the gaming room, only to blink in surprise when he sees you already inside of it, happily smiling as Animal Crossing visuals and sounds fill the space.

He had known you owned a Nintendo Switch, a piece of information your mom had shared to break the ice a bit. And it’s really no surprise that this is your go-to game. But knowing and seeing are two different things and he can’t help but let his own lips twitch upwards at how calm and relaxed you are tending to your garden, decorating your home, choosing your outfit.

Kenma’s never been good with people, has never been the one to initiate a friendship. He knows he should have made more of an effort to be friendly and welcoming to you as your new older brother. There’s a slight pang of regret in his chest when he sees how at ease you are while you’re unaware of his presence. His eyes are as sharp as ever and he locks in on the way your body slightly stiffens, fingers nervously fidgeting when you finally notice his figure in the doorway, words already stuttering an apology for using his game room without explicitly asking.

You look like a scared mouse about to flee from the claws of a cat. And it pisses him off.

He hasn’t made the best efforts to bridge the gap between you, but for you to fear him? That seems a tad unnecessary, and more than a tad insulting. It’s more than enough to make the sadistic streak in him want to give you something to be scared about.

But he’s never been impulsive and he just quietly sits beside you on the floor, reassuring you it’s fine to play, smirking when you sneak little side glances his way as you continue collecting fruits.

“Kozume, do you want to play-”

“Just call me Kenma.”

Entranced eyes watch as you grow flustered at his words, mouth silently testing the weight of his given name in your mouth. For once, Kenma could care less about playing video games when a shaky timid “Kenma” slips past your soft lips.

“Kenma, do you want to play something together?”

You have no idea how badly he really does want to play together, but it’s a game you’re not ready for. So he calls upon any restraint he has to pluck your device from your hands and change the game to Mario Kart.

It’s amusing how easily you soften besides him, brow furrowing in concentration, eyes intently and eagerly following the screen, any anxiousness quickly forgotten as you get into the game. He greedily watches as you pout when you make a mistake, as your eyes light up every time you pass someone.

If he had known how easy it would be to make you warm up to him, he’d have done this sooner and he genuinely laughs when you whine and fake glare at him as he wins yet another round.

He asks about school. You ask about work. He tells you about his childhood. You share your own stories.

It’s a comfortable rhythmic back and forth and he’s afraid of ruining it, but a certain question nags at his mind, a question he knows may ruin the entire flow of the conversation.

“You’ll be graduating soon. Have you decided what you want to do after college?”

“Kenma not you too!!!”

His shoulders relax at how well you react to the question, smiling at the way you flop onto your back and groan about how mom and dad are already on your case about future plans.

“I’ve been applying to places, but who knows. Maybe I’ll just work for you at Bouncing Ball.”

There’s a playful lilt in your voice when you say it, a giggle and teasing smile accompanying the words. But there’s nothing funny about it to Kenma and your smile falters a bit when you see how tightly Kenma’s gripping his controller, the way his eyes pin you down.

“Kenma? It’s just a joke. I would never take advantage of-”

You try to get up from your reclined position, only to whimper in confusion when Kenma’s hand on your shoulder forces you back down. And suddenly you’re pinned down by more than just his stare as he moves to straddle you, knees on either side of your body, hands next to your head, his whole body caging yours.

It’s a lighthearted joke in the family that if all else fails, you could always work at Bouncing Ball. A joke your step-father and mother always dish out when the arguments get too tense as the three of you talk about your future. But it’s become less in jest for Kenma, especially after Kuroo sent him a scandalous picture of his newest secretary kneeling between his long legs, lips wrapped around his cock.

It wasn’t the first picture, nor was it the last incriminating photo the older businessman had sent him. Kenma merely rolled his eyes before deleting the image from his phone, wondering when Kuroo would grow bored and find a new toy to play with. But he freezes when he sees the following text message from his long-time friend.

“You’re the CEO of a company, Kenma. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone convenient around? A pretty warm body? I bet that cute new step sister of yours would look really good under your desk. Doesn’t she graduate from college soon? If you don’t make a move, maybe I’ll snatch her up right from under your nose. I’m due for a change of secretary soon.”

There’s absolutely no reason for the hot anger that lances through him at Kuroo’s taunting words and he grimaces at playing right into his ex-captain’s hands, already hearing Kuroo’s braying laughter in his head if the older man saw just how much his words affected him.

But initial irritation aside, he lets himself really think, really imagine what a life with you at his beck and call would be like. And he likes what he sees. He doesn’t delete Kuroo’s photos as quickly as he used to, replacing the female faces with yours in his imagination as his hands slip under the hem of his boxers.

He knows it’s a longshot, knows there’s a high chance you’ll continue your lives as is, never destined to exchange more than a few polite greetings at family outings. But now...now hearing you voice the idea out loud yourself, hearing the way his first name sounds from your lips…

Maybe it’s not the silly pipe dream he had believed it to be.

“I’m in need of an assistant if you really do want to work at Bouncing Ball, but you’d need to prove why it would be worth hiring you.”

He almost laughs at how you perk up despite the precarious position you’re in, almost ready to launch into an elevator pitch of your qualifications flat on your back underneath him. You’re quite the multitasker already and he groans at the thought of having you cockwarm him while he tests out a new video game, making you answer all his calls stuffed full of him and desperately trying to hide the lustful tremble in your voice.

But he’s not here to listen to your carefully crafted speech. (Guess you really were practicing for job interviews like you said you were. What a good girl.) And he firmly presses his lips against yours to silence you, taking his time to immerse himself in the way your mouths mold against each other.

Your taste, your smell, your warmth. It’s all intoxicating and he slips his tongue inside your parted lips, subtly rutting his groin against your body. He can feel your body jostle as you lift your arms and he waits for the weight of your arms to lovingly wrap around his neck, only to be shocked when you weakly press against his shoulders until he finally relents and pulls back just enough to look down at you in irritated confusion.

“We- we shouldn’t be doing this.”

It’s not the words that have him clenching his fists, not even the way your palms still timidly press against him in a laughably weak show of defense.

It’s the fear in your eyes, the way you look at him like he’s some monster. It's the way he can almost palpably feel and hear your desire to be anywhere other than here, with anyone other than him, wishing to put as much space between the two of you as possible.

It’s your rejection.

It hurts to know that he isn’t enough just as he is, that he needs to resort to less...savory and straightforward ways to entrap you. But he’s not Hinata or Kuroo. He doesn’t have an electrifying personality or roguishly handsome features and charm to woo you. He only has his cunning and sharp tongue.

And he fully intends on maximizing his gifts.

“Of course, you don’t have to. You can just keep on applying and getting rejected by every company you speak to, if they even bother meeting with you after seeing your pathetic resume. Average college. Average grades. Average major. Tell me, how many interviews have you actually been reached out to for?”

He’s going out on a bit of a limb, but his suspicions are right and he cruelly smirks at the way tears bubble in your eyes at his words, no comeback or denial rolling off the tip of your tongue. He had a feeling you were struggling from the bits and pieces he’s picked up as your parents quietly talk and fret over you actually being able to find a job after graduation.

“Our parents are too nice to say anything about it, but you know they’re disappointed in you, right? Have you noticed how they always avoid talking about how school is going or asking you about how job hunting is going? How they only ask me how work is going? It’s because they know you’re just a loser whose life is going to amount to nothing.”

“That’s not true! They love me-”

“I’m not saying they don’t love you, but doesn’t that make it even worse? Making your loving and caring parents worry and stress over you when they should be preparing for retirement, an easy life? Instead of letting them finally enjoy a carefree life, you’ll be their freeloader daughter who uses up all their remaining funds. Is that what you want?”

You really are too easy and his lips curl in satisfaction at the way you frantically shake your head side to side, fat wet drops streaming down your face, adorable sniffles filling the air.

“If you become my assistant, I’ll compensate you well. You can live here with me, have your own room, a roof over your head, all the food and clothing you need and want. Think about how relieved and happy our parents will be seeing you provided for, seeing us getting along. Isn’t that what you want? For them to be happy?”

He knows how close you are to your mom, how important this idea of a perfect family is to you. He knows how insecurity and doubt about your own capabilities torment you. And he knows you’re hooked on his claws when your hands that are still pressed against his shoulders drop limply besides you, not even a hint of resistance left in you when he leans down once more to rest his forehead on yours, one hand cupping the side of your face.

“This is all you’re good for anyway. Working underneath me.”

If you notice his pun, you don’t acknowledge it, too busy wincing and squirming as he harshly nips and bites a trail from your lips to your neck as he pushes up the hem of your shirt until your chest is on full display for him. There’s something experimental, cold, meticulous about the way he gropes and fondles your breasts.Your face heats in humiliation at how he treats you like one of the many game consoles he’s reviewed for his audience.

But you don’t do anything about it, telling yourself that this is just his version of an interview as he pinches and prods at you, meanly twisting your nipples and chuckling at your yelp of pain. You obediently let him spread your legs apart, only letting out an agonized cry as he tests your flexibility, staring at him with a trembling lower lip as he sharply tells you to shut up while scrutinizing your panty-covered sex.

“You really are made for this, aren’t you?”

You whimper as he nudges the small wet spot on the thin fabric, clenching your eyes shut in denial at how hot and wound up your body feels from his touch, unable to hide your gasp as he pulls the layer aside and rubs your aroused clit.

There’s something so different about the way his fingers slowly sink into your wet pussy, almost lazily curling against your soft walls, his thumb never stopping its careful massage on the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. So different from your own fingers desperately thrusting in and out of you. So different from the drunk partners you’ve hooked up with at college and their sloppy, rapid, frantic movements.

You can feel something large, something intimidating slowly rising from deep inside of you, a volcano about to erupt compared to the bright and fast to fade shooting stars you’re used to. You’re scared. Scared of the intoxicating feeling, of how easy it is to grow accustomed to Kenma’s presence, of how his cat-like eyes are all you can see and think of.

How can something feel so wrong and so right at the same time?

That’s the last coherent thought you have before your world goes blank, pleasure rocking through you as you soak the carpet and your step-brother’s hand with your juices. You’re moaning as Kenma continues to rock his fingers in and out of you, fingertips insistently massaging your clit and g-spot as you ride out your orgasm, body trembling and convulsing.

But even when the tremors slow, when pleasure becomes something sharper, more overwhelming, he doesn’t stop. You wail, begging him to stop, to let you rest, slumping in relief when he finally drags his hands away from you, carelessly wiping the mess you’ve made of his hand on your skin, covering you in your own essence.

Your heavy eyelids threaten to flutter shut as you let exhaustion wash over you, already dreading having to get up and wash yourself. But you’re shocked back to reality as something hard begins to nudge at your still fluttering entrance.

“Kenma! No! Too much-”

You break off into a sob as surprisingly strong hands dig into your hips, holding you still as he pushes and pushes until he’s fully settled inside of you, balls resting against your ass.

You’re still so tight, your quivering walls clamping around the intrusion, and he groans at the thought of being able to sink into this hole every day, multiple times, whenever he wants. His cock is already aching from holding off for so long, from watching your body and face contorted in pleasure. Kenma can feel his end quickly approaching as you scream and wail underneath him, eyes rolling back in your head, drool trickling from the corner of your mouth. You look absolutely obscene and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this side of you.

But despite the way his balls are tightening, despite the stutter in his hips, he’s determined to watch you fall apart once more, to see you shatter to pieces yet again. He grits his teeth, fingers reaching down to furiously rub at your already oversensitized clit, reveling in how your back arches, thighs shaking in overstimulation, and then you snap.

He wonders what his parents would think of their dear dumb daughter now, looking nothing like their silly angel, looking like a wanton used whore, incoherent garbled noises slipping past your lips as you twitch uncontrollably, your pussy milking him dry as he cums inside of you.

There’s only silence mixed with your pitiful whimpers as he slides out of you, grimacing at the sticky mess you’ve made of yourself and him. But that’s what your other hole is for and he orders you to suck him clean, admiring what a quick learner you are, eager to please as you noisily slurp and lick him clean, moaning at the taste of your combined fluids...

Maybe too eager and he shoves you off of him when you become too enthusiastic, his cock beginning to twitch in interest once more.

You look so lost, still sprawled out on the ground, staring up at him with wide imploring eyes as he pulls up his pants. So vulnerable and in need of guidance.

Good thing you have such a great boss to manage you.

“Not bad. Consider these next few days your internship and if all goes well, I’ll be more than happy to hire you as Bouncing Ball’s newest employee this summer. Now clean up this room and show me that my future assistant can do more than just be a slut.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kenma #yandere kenma x reader #haikyuu smut #kenma x reader #kenma smut #haikyuu x reader #sweetheart decadence #tw: yandere #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon

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babyboibucky · 4 years ago

Text

Project V

Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You ask Bucky a favor of a lifetime.

Word Count: 4,233

Warnings: SMUT hehehe

A/N: This was supposed to be short but I enjoyed writing their banter wayyyy too much. And oh, this isn’t a friend to lovers trope lol and I have no plans for a second part to this. It is what is is for these two ;)

Edit: Will be doing ficlets for this AU every once in a while! Check out the first one linked below!

Project V Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

“You want me to what?”

Your best friend, Bucky choked on his own spit upon hearing your question. His eyes were as wide as saucers as he stared at you in disbelief, you didn’t even know his eyes could get that big.

The sun was high up in the sky, it was barely noon and the two of you were simply walking into the campus when you asked him such favor. Bucky almost wondered whether you were drunk to even think of that.

“You want me to what?” Bucky repeated when you didn’t say anything, his elbow nudging your side as the two of you continued to walk along the pavement.

Letting out a sigh, you shrugged and repeated your favor with utter nonchalance.

“I want you to take my v-card. You know, my virginity?” You said, annoyed that he couldn’t seem to comprehend your simple request.

Bucky stopped in his tracks and tugged your shirt, pulling you back when you didn’t stop walking. His face was the epitome of confusion with his forehead creased, brows furrowed and lips open agape.

“Is there no other way for you to say that without making me cringe?” He asked.

Rolling your eyes, you groaned. “What did you want me to say? ‘Bucky, deflower me with your magic stick’?” You said sarcastically.

Bucky gagged at your words and shuddered. “But why? Why the fuck would you even consider that?” He asked. He simply couldn’t understand why.

You continued walking ahead and slowed down your pace until Bucky decided to catch up. “We’re graduating from college in less than a year and I’ve heard you boast about your bedroom skills. I don’t wanna leave college without getting fucked, Bucky. And since I’m still single and probably will be for the next few months, I put two and two and voila!”

Bucky snickered, “You gotta be kidding me.” He said.

“Why? Scared that I might find out that your dick ain’t working well?” You teased, narrowing your eyes at Bucky.

He snorted, “Umm excuse me, this dick is the best dick that you’ll ever have. I just don’t want to ruin other guys for you.” He boasted, shrugging his shoulders.

“Then do me the favor.” You said, as a matter-of-factly.

Bucky turned to you with a smirk, the kind that made any girl on the receiving end, bend down on their knees for him. You were going to admit it, that look made your insides churn. In a good way.

“Oh, I’ll do you alright. When do you want it to happen?” He finally asked.

You stopped walking again and fist pumped in victory. “Friday night. At your dorm. And please, don’t make it weird with romantic gestures. I just wanna get fucked real good.”

“Well, if that’s the case then it’s a deal. Let’s shake on it to make it official.” Bucky said.

The two of you did your signature high-five to seal the deal.

You knocked on Bucky’s room and let out a sigh when it took him quite a while to open it. Although it was going to be your first time, you weren’t really nervous about it. Besides, you trusted Bucky and if there’s any guy you won’t regret having sex with, it would be him.

There were a few noises from inside that made you roll your eyes. The door finally opened, revealing a flustered Bucky with an awkward smile plastered on his face.

“The fuck took you so long?” You huffed out and stepped inside, surprised at how neat his dorm looked like.

His roommate Steve had always been organized but seeing Bucky’s side of the room all neat? It was a sigh to behold. You looked at your best friend with a stoic look, “Why’d you clean?”

Bucky closed the door and locked it, running his fingers through his hair as he shrugged. “I just wanted to.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Fine, I cleaned. I didn’t want you to think I’m disgusting.” he reasoned out.

You stared at him pointedly, “I don’t care about that shit, I’m just here to get fucked. Besides, I’m used to your mess. I said don’t make it weird, jesus.”

Bucky groaned, “You asking me to fuck you is weird in its entirety. How can I not make things weird?!” He complained.

You sat on his bed and unzipped your jacket, revealing a bottle of tequila hidden beneath. “This is how we make things not weird.”

Two shots later and Bucky was finally loosening up to the idea of being the one to take your virginity. He prepared for this to be honest, forced asked Steve to stay over at Peggy’s for the weekend and worked out immediately right after formalizing the deal.

“Do we have rules?” He asked.

“We’ll stay best friends after this. No weird feelings or whatever.” You told him to which he nodded in agreement.

“And just please do your best to make my first time good.” You whined.

Bucky craned his neck and stretched out his arms, “Alright, okay. I got this.” He said. “You ready?” He asked you.

You inhaled and let out a long breath, “Yeah, okay let’s do this.”

Bucky started by leaning in, placing a hand on your neck as he did so. You were ready for a kiss but he immediately stopped before you could even close your eyes.

“Do you know how—“

“I’ve made out with guys, Bucky. Jesus christ, I’m not that inexperienced.” You explained before looking at Bucky expectantly, urging him to continue.

“Should we drink again?” he proposed, obviously still feeling awkward.

“Fuck no, I don’t wanna do this drunk. I want to remember my first time, idiot. Can you just...” you groaned. “Just kiss me?” you asked, well, more like commanded.

Bucky apologized before deciding to just go for it. Snaking his hand back to your neck, he leaned in and kisses your lips. He started off slow and gentle, trying to get a feel of how you liked to be kissed. Bucky was definitely weirded out for kissing you, his best friend that he had known since first grade. Surprisingly, you were good at kissing, like really really good and this spurred Bucky to level up by taking your lower lip in between his teeth.

A small whine escaped your parted lips, allowing Bucky to slide his tongue into your mouth. You let out another whimper when you felt his tongue on yours, your hands falling onto Bucky’s thighs for leverage.

Just as when the kiss was starting to get heated, Bucky pulled away slightly before gazing down at your chest.

“Can I touch your boob?” He asked breathlessly.

And there goes the momentum.

“Oh my god, Bucky. You sound like a fucking virgin. And that’s coming from me, an actual virgin.” You said with disappointment.

“I’m sorry! It’s just... it’s not that I find you unattractive. You’re my best friend and I just don’t want to disrespect you!” He reasoned out.

As much as you wanted to get annoyed, you found Bucky really sweet for considering that. But good god, you’ve been wanting to get fucked and respect was the last thing on your mind right now.

“By all means, Bucky...please disrespect me and fuck me because my pussy’s been wet since this morning and I’m about to explode if you still don’t do anything.” You said exasperatedly.

Your vulgar words were all that Bucky needed because as soon you were done complaining, he wasted no time to grab your face to kiss you. This time, it was all teeth and tongue and you weren’t complaining. This was the kind of performance that you were expecting from Bucky and finally he was giving it to you.

One of his hands moved to cradle your head while his other slide down to your waist, moving you to straddle his lap as he sat on his bed. You let out a soft squeal when you felt the tent in his pants rub against your crotch, causing you to grab onto Bucky’s wide shoulders.

“Fuck, you’re already hard.” You panted against Bucky’s lips.

“Yeah well, I just realized you aren’t wearing a bra.” He responded before fisting the hem of your shirt, bunching it up until you lifted your arms up so he could remove it.

Bucky wasted no time to bend forward, taking a nipple into his mouth making you moan out loud.

“Hoooly fuck, Bucky. That feels so good.” You pant, pushing your breasts forward as you thread your fingers into Bucky’s hair.

Your body trembled from pleasure as Bucky continued to lap at your breast, his hand coming up to palm the other before tweaking your nipple in between his thumb and index finger. Unknowingly, you started rutting your hips against Bucky’s crotch, seeking friction to relieve the growing throb in your core.

Bucky lifted you up off from him and laid you down on his bed as he left kisses from your neck down to the valley of your breasts until he reached your stomach. He unzipped your shorts and pulled it down together with your soaked underwear, groaning at the sight of your glistening pussy.

“Fuuuccckkk...” he rasped out, nipping the insides of your thighs as he pressed them down with his palms, opening you up to him.

“Have you ever been eaten out?” He asked, nudging his nose onto the skin of your bikini line.

You swallowed hard and shook your head, chest heaving as you anticipated for Bucky’s next move. “No.” You answered breathily and threw an arm over your eyes.

“Hold tight.” It was the last thing your brain was able to comprehend because Bucky immediately licked your entrance up until he reached your clit, circling it with the tip of his tongue making your toes curl.

“Ohhhh my god...” you moaned, your back involuntarily arching from the bed.

You felt Bucky’s lips curl into a smirk against your sensitive folds, almost wanting to smack his head for his cockiness. But then again, this was the reason why you wanted your first time to be with him. You’ve heard your friends share stories about how their first time went and majority ended up being either a huge let down or downright scary. You didn’t want your first time story to be like theirs so it was only right for you to ask Bucky a favor of a lifetime.

And so far, you weren’t regretting it one bit. Well, save maybe for what could happen afterwards. Whether this would affect your friendship with Bucky but right now, all you could focus on was how his tongue was skillfully fucking your cunt.

Your eyes popped open when you felt a finger prod at your entrance, your hand quickly grabbing Bucky’s wrist to stop him from further pushing a finger in.

“Wait, I’ve never been fingered.” You admitted, bringing your body up and leaning back against your elbows.

Bucky looked up at you and the scene was straight out of those female POV porn you’ve watched. His hair was sticking up in different directions, face in between your legs and his lips glistening with your juices. Your eyes almost rolled back into your head at the sight.

“You mean you never tried fingering yourself?” He asked, turning his head to press an open-mouthed kiss onto your thigh.

You shook your head, “I tried but it kinda hurts?” You told him meekly.

Bucky grinned before crawling up your body until his face was inches away from yours. He pressed a soft kiss on your lips. “Lay back.” He said, voice rough and low, leaving goosebumps in your wake.

Following Bucky’s order, you lay down on his bed and relax as he positioned himself on his side. He began kissing your ear, sucking your lobe as his hand went down to your pussy, spreading your lips open.

“Just relax, okay? Can’t fuck you with my cock just yet, gotta make sure you can take it.” He whispered into your ear.

Bucky started rubbing your pussy, spreading your wetness around before slowly pushing a finger in. You winced in pain, grabbing Bucky’s wrist to slow him down.

“You can take it, just relax.” He coaxed and you nodded, turning your head to kiss him.

Bucky returned the kiss, helping take your mind off of the way he was pushing in his finger until he was knuckle-deep into your pussy. There was a slight sting but bearable enough for you to let him continue with his movements. You felt his finger slide out and then back in with ease, the pain slowly transforming into a different kind of pleasure as he went on. Next thing you know, your hips were already moving to meet Bucky’s finger.

“Gonna add in another one, okay?” He breathed into your lips before biting your lower lip.

“Ow, ow, ow!” You cried out and slapped Bucky’s hand away from your pussy when he tried to insert another finger without even slowing down.

“The fuck, Bucky! Slow down, sweet jesus...” you snapped, frowning when Bucky responded with a chuckle.

“Sorry! I’m losing my patience here, I want to finger fuck you so bad.” He admitted, whispering another apology against your lips.

You relaxed and let Bucky rub your pussy again, gathering your wetness and pushing a finger in. A few more pumps and he carefully inserted another finger, swallowing the whimpers coming out of your mouth.

You stiffened a bit, biting your lip as you tried to ignore the stretch that you were feeling. “You good?” Bucky asked, waiting for you to nod before fully pushing his fingers in.

His movements were slow and careful then, helping you adjust to the stretch of having two of his fingers pump in and out of your pussy. Soon enough, you were moaning against Bucky’s lips as he increased the pace of his fingers. You could hear how wet you were and you never really thought it was possible for you to be this soaked. All the times you touched yourself, you got pretty wet...but not this wet. When Bucky said that he fingered like a god, you laughed at his face but now, fuck. He really wasn’t lying about it.

“Fuck, so tight. Can’t wait to slide my cock into your pussy.” He grunted and moved on top of you, pulling his fingers out making you whine.

He sucked his fingers while maintaining eye contact, making you blush timidly at the lewdness of his action. But god, you were so right for giving Bucky the honor of fucking you because his fingers alone brought you so much pleasure. What more if he actually started to fuck you?

“Gotta fuck you now. I’m so hard I feel like I’m about to bust a nut anytime now.” Bucky said, sitting up to remove his shirt, followed by his jeans.

He was in the process of unzipping his jeans when he suddenly stopped and looked at you, sprawled on the bed looking utterly fucked when he hasn’t even been inside you yet.

“Will you still suck my dick after I make you cum?” He asked hopefully.

You laughed out loud at his question, “You look so worried right now.” You teased. “But yes, fine. I’ll suck your cock later.” You reassured before sitting up to help him remove his pants.

Bucky then slid his boxers off, revealing his cock that you may or may not have seen in the past. It was an accident though and you didn’t meant to barge into his dorm while he was dressing up. You gotta admit, your best friend was blessed with a huge dick. And now said dick, will be the first one to enter your virgin pussy.

“Like what you see?” Bucky teased when he caught you staring as he put on a condom.

You smirked, “Actually I do.”

Bucky licked his lips as he laid on top of you, supporting his weight using his forearms as he positioned himself in between your legs. You kept your eyes on him the entire time, nodding and lifting your head up a bit to press a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Okay, I think I’m ready.” You whispered.

Bucky nodded too and nuzzled his face into your neck, “You sure?” He asked again.

You hummed, “Good luck and don’t fuck it up.”

Bucky lifted his head and looked at you incredulously, “Did you just...”

“Quote RuPaul before having sex for the first time? Yeah, I did.” You quickly answered.

Bucky scrutinized you, “You planned that didn’t you?”

You made a face, “Maybe.” You said, before the both of you broke into huge smiles.

Bucky laughed before kissing you again, “I fucking knew it.” He said before his face turned serious. “Ready?” he asked.

You nodded your head again, taking in deep breath as Bucky reached down to rub his cock against your pussy, making you whine. Kissing you again, Bucky lined up his cock to your entrance, slowly pushing in until you gasped out in pain.

“You wanna keep going?” He asked worriedly, seeing your frown.

You closed your eyes and nodded, “Yeah. Just...just do it slowly.” You said.

Your hands went to grip Bucky’s back, nails digging into his skin as he pushed and pushed, until he was balls deep inside you. The pain wasn’t that bad, but it did feel like you were being torn apart. The veins in Bucky’s neck started to bulge out from the way he was holding himself back.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Squeezing me so good, I think I’m gonna cum if I move.” He grunted, nosing the skin beneath your ear.

“Please don’t make this embarrassing for both of us.” You said. “You can move now.” You added.

Bucky slid all the way out, leaving the tip inside of you before pushing back in slowly. You let out a moan, both from pain and pleasure. His thrusts started off slow, helping you adjust to his girth and gauging your reaction.

One particular high-pitched moan gave it away. It was at that moment that the pain turned into nothing but pleasure and a few more languid thrusts later, you were chanting Bucky’s name and begging for him to go faster.

You felt so full and you simply couldn’t explain how good it felt getting fucked like this. Bucky kept on whispering praises into your ear, spurring you on as he thrusted in and out of you. The bed started to creak, the headboard hitting the wall as Bucky quickened the pace of his thrusts. You wrapped your legs around his waist, moaning his name as you felt your abdomen tighten. You could feel it coming, an impending orgasm that you’ve only been imagining. Not even your fingers rubbing your clit made you feel this way, like there was electricity running through your veins.

“Bucky, fuck...I think...” you panted, hands sliding down to grab his ass, pulling him further to you.

“Can feel it, can feel you pulsating around my cock.” Bucky panted.

Your body stilled, toes curling and vision blurring when Bucky thrusted into you at a certain angle. Just like that, you let go and moaned out loud as Bucky continued to fuck an orgasm out of you. Biting onto his shoulder, you rode out the remaining waves of your climax before laying your head back onto the pillow, watching Bucky as he followed after you, spilling his seed into the condom after a few more thrusts.

“Holy fucking shit...” he breathed out, letting his body fall onto yours.

There was a moment of silence as the both of you recovered, your pants echoing in the room. Bucky was the first to move, sliding his softening cock out of you and sitting up as he removed the condom. He went into his bathroom and disposed of it before walking back to the bed with a wet wash cloth in his hand.

“Are you still going to suck my dick?” Bucky broke the silence as he casually cleaned you up.

You lifted your head up, “Are you still hard?”

Bucky shrugged, “I can be if you want me to be.”

“I’ll do it tomorrow.” you simply responded.

“So, how did I do?” Bucky asked, continuing to clean you up in between your legs.

You bled a bit, but not to the point of staining his sheets thank god. When you didn’t respond, Bucky worried that you might have regretted this but instead, he found you grinning up at the ceiling like an idiot.

“The fuck you looking like that?” He asked, unable to hold back the smile tugging at his lips.

You laughed and closed your legs, wincing a bit at the soreness but quickly recovering. “I can’t believe we just had sex.” You said.

Bucky set aside the towel and laid back next to you, “I certainly hope I did not fuck that up.” He said.

You turned to your side and smiled at Bucky, “You didn’t. Thanks, Buck.”

There didn’t seem to be any tension nor awkwardness between the both of you after. It was pretty normal actually. After taking a bath, you both decided to order pizza for late dinner. More conversations took place until you both fell asleep on the same bed.

A series of knocks stirred you and Bucky awake. He was spooning you when you woke up, his arm wrapped around your waist while his face was pressed on the back of your neck. You thought you were dreaming but the knocks continued and a familiar chorus of voices made you and Bucky sit up in panic.

“James, honey? It’s your mom. Open up!”

You and Bucky looked at each other, “Why the fuck is your mom here?!” You whispered and frantically searched for your clothes.

You slept in one of Bucky’s shirts and a pair of panties and for some reason, you couldn’t find your clothes from last night. Bucky frantically ran around the dorm, grabbing your bag and throwing it under Steve’s bed.

“I don’t know why she’s here! She didn’t text me!” He whispered, checking his phone for any unread messages.

“James, come on now. We want to visit Y/N too so we can all have breakfast together.”

You knew that voice all too well, it was your mom’s! Bucky’s eyes widened when he heard you mom’s voice. He just took away her daughter’s virginity last night, how the hell was he going to look at her in the eyes after that?

Bucky grabbed your arm and pushed you into the bathroom, warning you to stay quiet. You were about to protest but Bucky quickly slammed the door shut. Pressing an ear against it, you listened as Bucky hurried over to the front door, opening it.

“Mom!” You heard him say before greeting your mom.

“Sweetie, did you just wake up? You look like a mess.” His mom said.

“What are you guys doing here?” Bucky asked nervously.

There were a few movements that were too near the bathroom, you almost readied yourself for a grand reveal. Fortunately, Bucky seemed to have blocked the bathroom and tried to distract his mom.

“Well, we thought of surprising you and Y/N. We missed you both. Go get dressed so we can pick her up from her dorm.” You heard your mom say.

“Ohhh I uhh...why don’t you both head out first and I can go pick her up? We’ll just meet you both somewhere.” Bucky suggested.

“Oh sweetie, I wanted to surprise my daughter at her dorm.” Your mom said.

Fuck. You were so fucked. Your mom’s gonna find out that you’re no longer a virgin and that it was Bucky who took it. The same guy she entrusted you to upon moving out for college.

“Oh don’t worry, I won’t tell her we’ll be meeting you. She’s uhh...I think she might have slept over at a friend’s actually. To do a project. So she might not be at her dorm. I’ll just pick her up.” Bucky quickly explained.

Sleepover at a friend’s? That wasn’t entirely a lie. The project? Well, the task of giving up your v-card could be considered a project. So no, Bucky wasn’t lying to your mom at all.

Silence. A few more shuffling and movements here and there. You heard the front door creak. Finally.

“Oh alright, James. We’ll go ahead. Meet us at the new breakfast place two blocks away from the university, okay?” His mom said.

You heaved out a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll be there.” Bucky said and from the sounds of it, he seemed to be pushing both your moms out of his room.

“Make sure to pick Y/N up. I know she tends to skip out on our breakfast dates. Make sure that she’ll come, James.” Your mom warned.

True enough, you tended to bail out on your mom’s breakfast dates. Not because you don’t miss her, but because it was too early! You’ve turned her down a couple of times now so you knew what she meant. But Bucky, god. He just had to make everything into a double entendre.

And without shame, he looked into your mom’s eyes and offered her a charming grin as if he wasn’t balls deep inside her virgin daughter last night.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she does. I’ll make her come.”

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piecksz · 4 years ago

Text

dirty little secret | (m)

pairings: jock!eren yeager x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, dub con, cheating, creampie, oral sex (male receiving), mouth fucking, saliva, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, sneaky sex, explicit language

words: 3.2k+

summary: eren’s unsatisfied in his relationship with his girlfriend, so he looks to you for sexual gratification.

a/n: all the characters in this story are adults! it was originally meant to be a college au but the whole “fire drill” detail doesn’t really make sense in a college setting since fire drills are typically held in dorms, so as per usual 18+ minors dni.

Your legs moved quickly against the polished tile of the hallway while you sped up to meet with your class who had already been far ahead of you, disappearing into the throng of people filing outside at the blaring signal of the fire alarm.

You’d excused yourself during your lesson to use the bathroom, unaware that an unplanned drill had been scheduled for that day, so with haste you finished up and rushed to rendezvous with the rest of your classmates before you were left inside the building.

As you rounded the corner, you felt a pair of hands wrap around your forearm, forcibly pulling you behind the small door that stood at the end of the corridor.

Instinctively, your hands balled into fists, and you threw them blindly in the direction of your assailant. You hoped that you’d at least land one successful hit, and it would give you enough time to break out of their hold and flee.

“Y/N, relax! It’s just me!”

Your hysterical flailing ceased, and you opened your eyes hesitantly at the sound of your attacker’s familiar voice. “Eren?”

Frantic pupils fell upon a pair of mischievous jade eyes, and your terror-stricken expression contorted into an angry scowl as you drove the palms of your hands into his chest, sending him careening back into the metal shelf behind him. “You asshole! What is wrong with you?”

Eren’s quick reflexes allowed him to catch himself and the rack before both were sent tumbling to the floor. “Ow,” he grumbled, rubbing away the soreness spreading over the skin of his arm from your knuckles’ potent impact. “You’ve got a brutal left hook.”

“Yeah? You wanna see my right one?” Your right hand tightened as if you were projecting another throw, but Eren’s outstretched arm maintained a safe amount of space between you two. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

Eren’s tightly-wound eyebrows began to arch as his distressed face eased into a buoyant grin. “I wanted to see you. I missed you.”

You blinked. “Were you the one that pulled the fire alarm?”

“No, I didn’t pull the fucking fire alarm,” he replied sourly, evidently offended that you’d suggest he’d do something so juvenile. “I just got lucky.”

Your curled lip relaxed, and your irritation waned into a resigned stare. You desperately wanted to trust Eren’s saccharine words, and it didn’t take much effort to believe him while you were faced with his stupidly winsome expression. His smile was warm, eyes glossing over with adoration like he was truly expressing what he felt, and it wasn’t just empty flattery, yet you’d been more perceptive than to just take his intentions for what they were. Rather, you’d been smart enough to learn from last time.

He’d said something along the same lines, after you two had hooked up in his car after his lacrosse game. He was feeling mirthful after winning and wanted to celebrate with you, but on the cusp of his orgasm, he’d let the “love” phrase slip, and when you’d asked him about it afterward, Eren mulled over it for a second before nodding, admitting that he had feelings for you.

His confession had been somewhat of a relief, and you’d expected him to end things with his girlfriend shortly after he’d realized what he really wanted, but the following day in the courtyard, you were stunned to see Eren sitting with her and the rest of his friends, showering her with kisses like nothing had taken place the night before.

You swore you’d learned your lesson.

“Are these new? Can I see them?” Eren’s fingers gently wrapped around the frame of your glasses, pulling them from your face, and he slid them onto his ears, adjusting their position on his nose. “How do I look?”

“I can’t see, Eren,” you answered simply.

Eren laughed bashfully. “Right, I think they look better on you instead.” He slid your glasses off and tucked them back behind your ears.

Your lenses restored your lucid vision, and now that you could properly see, you noticed the way Eren’s lips were parted, lids low and languid as his face lingered only inches from yours. He’d used your glasses as leverage to get closer to you, a crafty technique, and now that he was close enough, he could whisper.

“You know what else looks better on you?” The corner of his mouth quirked upwards into his cheek, and he closed the space between you two, fixing his lips onto yours while his thumb and index finger supported the curve of your chin. His kiss was slow, mouth undulating with the most tender of movements, and when he carefully slid his tongue between your teeth you could taste the vague chill of spearmint on his breath. He proceeded timidly, as though he was touching you for the first time, but that was the very detail of your couplings that always had you running back. He handled you like he cared.

The tip of Eren’s nose skimmed against yours, ever so slightly, while he continued prompting his tongue further into the depths of your mouth, eager to have you savor his desire.

Your body was traitorous and unmoving, allowing Eren to command you with his lips, and for a few blissful minutes, you forgot the two of you were crammed into the unyielding space of a storage room.

Eren withdrew from your mouth, and tilted his head to the side so he could occupy the empty curve of your neck, and once you felt him press mild kisses to the hollow of your throat, you freed a displeased sigh and sent him backwards with an assertive push.

“Seriously? In the supply closet?��

“We’ve got like fifteen minutes before everyone comes back.” He reassured you, shrugging dismissively before tipping his head in for another kiss.

You shifted backward, studying Eren as he continued to lean in until his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Wondering why he wasn’t receiving any contact, his eyes flitted open.

“You still haven’t broken up with her have you?” You pressed your lips into an unamused line.

Your question had Eren angling until he was standing upright, and then he rolled his head back and released a groan as though already tired from your question. “Y/N, come on. I don’t feel like having this conversation.”

“Have you?” you probed.

“No, I haven’t. It’s not that easy.”

“It really is.”

Eren drew his eyebrows up, now in regret. “We’ve been together since freshman year. Do you know how big of a douchebag it makes me look if I break up with her two months before graduation?”

You scoffed, folding your arms across your chest. “Do you know how big of a douchebag you look fucking me behind her back?”

Eren’s eyes drifted to the side.

“Or are you just embarrassed to be seen with me?” you questioned, canting your body into his view.

“Okay, you sound ridiculous,” Eren laughed dryly.

“Because I’m not a cheerleader or an athlete, and I have about one other friend. You don’t want everyone to know you’re fucking the girl that spends lunch in the library.”

“What kind of cliche movie do you think we’re in right now?”

“It’s just something I’d expect from someone who peaked in high school.” Your words were sharp on the tip of your tongue, and you could tell by the way Eren recoiled that your statement managed to penetrate his seemingly careless guise.

“I’ll handle it okay?” Eren’s hand slid over the back of his neck, looking blameworthy of all the faults you’d accused him of. “But right now I really need help handling something else.”

Your eyes narrowed in his direction after realizing he’d managed to do it again, forcing you into forgiveness with his charming abashed impression. He’d taken advantage of how spineless you were when it came to matters concerning him.

“Please?” he urged.

It was his thick brown brows that were creased in the middle and opalescent green eyes that stared you down that made him look so sincere. He was easily one of the most spellbinding people you’d ever met, attractive and likable, he knew exactly what cards to play to get his way, and even though you were aware of it, you always found yourself wrapped around his finger. A pretty face and a sweet tongue was a recipe written up by the devil himself.

You lowered yourself onto your knees, leveled with Eren’s hands working swiftly against the buttons of his slacks. “I’m done doing this, Yeager,” you announced wryly.

“I know,” Eren said, as though guaranteeing you it would be the last time.

He pushed his pants down along with his briefs in one swift motion, freeing his cock from the tight cotton confines of his underwear. His length was already rigid, the sticky beads of precum leaking out of his swollen head the result of your stalling. He’d already provoked himself by thinking of all the ways he wanted to have you, you didn’t have to do anything more to get him hard.

A relieved exhale left Eren’s lips once he grabbed the base of his cock in the sweaty heat of his palm, tapping his wet tip against your bottom lip, then he pulled the hem of his shirt up slightly, allowing you enough clearance to take him into your mouth.

You wrapped a ginger hand around his length, feeling the way his warmth throbbed in your fingers, and you leaned in, using your tongue to lap along the rim of his cock.

“Fuck—” Eren’s voice was husky as it ripped through the depths of his throat. He watched you with heavy lids, observing the way your tongue’s tip danced around his swollen head, giving coy licks to his slit, and the way his cock twitched with need at the slightest provocation. “Jesus Christ—”

You gave him a few generous pumps before taking him whole, humming at the way his girth felt against the inside of your cheeks. The skin of his length ran like hot silk over your tongue as you fell into a natural rhythm, and your lips and hand rocked back and forth against him.

Eren’s face broke out into a dirty grin. “You’re such a little slut for my cock, aren’t you?”

You glared up at him over the edge of your glasses.

“Sorry,” he responded meekly, fingers brushing away the strands of hair that fell loosely against his forehead.

You continued working against him, excited by the honeyed melody of his moans every time your fingertips ran over the sensitive skin of his balls. Eren’s cock pulsated against the surface of your tongue with each small ministration, and you watched the muscles across his abdomen tense.

“I know you hate me,” he started. “But you have no idea how hot you look on your knees right now. Keep glaring at me like that, and I’m gonna cum in your mouth.”

The mention of Eren’s warning had a torrent of heat surging between your legs, and you fought off the urge to dip your fingers beneath your skirt and begin rubbing away your discomfort. You didn’t want him to know you were enjoying this almost as much as he was.

Your heavy yet stifled breathing caused your glasses to fog lightly, so you sat back on your knees, withdrawing your mouth from him briefly to catch your breath. You lifted a thumb to wipe away at the saliva that dribbled down your chin, but Eren’s fast fingers stopped you, holding your wrist away from your face.

“Don’t,” he breathed. “You look pretty like that.”

You ran the back of your hand across your cheeks, as though you were trying to rub off the furious heat that crept across your skin and over your nose. “Shut up.”

Eren only responded with an amused smile.

Then when you brought him back to your lips for the last time, his hands settled on the crown of your head, and he pushed his cock back in until his tip relentlessly prodded the back of your throat. Holding your head in place, he began jerking his hips, fucking your mouth at an agonizingly slow pace that had heavy tears cascading down your cheeks.

Every time his cock slowly and deliberately pressed against the back of your throat, you gagged involuntarily, fingertips digging into the side of his thighs.

“Feel how hard I am?” Eren asked. “You did that.” He rocked his pelvis forward again, muffling your whines.

“Yeah? You like it when I fuck your pretty little face, don’t you?” He thrusted himself between your jaws, throwing his head back and liberating a series of foul swears. “I really need to feel you.”

With the declaration of his wish, he pulled his cock out of your mouth, inhaling sharply at the obscene sight of his length coated and dripping with your spit.

After your dry heaving subsided, Eren helped you up with a gentle hand, running his palm between your shoulder blades to soothe your coughing. He made sure you were steady before cuing you to turn so that your back was facing him, then he watched as your shaky hands slid underneath your skirt and fingers hooked around the fabric of your underwear.

“Pull out this time, Eren. I mean it,” you rasped, cautioning him ahead of time. You stepped out of your underwear and used the toe of your shoe to cast it aside.

Eren’s hands reached under your hem, large palms gliding over the curve of your ass. “The odds of you getting pregnant are like one in what?” He flipped up your skirt and continued teasing the skin of your backside. “Plus I always cover you for the pill, don’t I?”

“I don’t care, cum in me and you’re dead.” Your fingers gripped the edge of the metal shelf, and you slid your arm around Eren’s shoulder while he placed one hand on your waist for support and curved the other under your thigh. Then, he brought your knee up to his chest until all of your weight was allocated onto one leg.

Eren held his cock with his fingertips and slid himself between your folds from behind. You let out a soft, unanticipated whimper, but quickly brought your teeth down on the flesh of your tongue to smother any more sounds of pleasure. You didn’t even bother looking over your shoulder at Eren’s satisfied smirk, you could tell by the way his hand squeezed your thigh that he had noticed it.

Eren positioned himself at your entrance, skimming his wet tip over your hole before sliding himself inside you. His cock slipped in with ease, your saliva acting as a crude lubricant.

“Oh fuck—” His breath was hot over the span of your neck.

“Eren—” you sighed, forgetting all your pretenses. You closed your eyes, enjoying the way he stretched you out, and then he started moving causing a pattern of shallow cries and moans to fall from your lips.

“Fuck Y/N, you drive me fucking crazy,” Eren groaned, thrusting up into you, slowly and rhyhmically, steadily filling you to the hilt every time, while his hand traveled beneath your ribcage to cup your breast over the crisp fabric of your uniform. “She doesn’t take me as well as you do.”

You shook your head, making weak sounds of protest between delicate whines. “I don’t wanna hear that, Eren—”

“But it’s true.” Eren moved quickly between your legs, hissing every time your slick walls tightened around his aching cock. With each punctuated thrust, you continued to lose yourself, until your need unfurled and Eren had you under siege. His methodical pace sent you into a flurry of moans, and you cried his name over and over.

His even strokes began to stagger, and his breathing became rapid and shallow, chaotic pants of hot air rolling out over the span of your shoulder.

“I’m gonna cum—” He continued pounding into you, faster now, harder, keen on drawing out his orgasm, and then Eren gave one last thrust, so deep it had you shutting your eyes and pursing your lips to keep from screaming. Then he shuddered, his body convulsing with the bout of his orgasm, and you felt him release inside of you, thick, hot ropes of cum flooding your pussy with every twitch of his cock.

“Y/N—” he moaned, resting his chin in the curve of your shoulder while he continued to jettison every drop of his release until he was sure he was empty.

Your hands tightened around his shoulder, as the ripple from Eren’s climax had your cunt tightening around his length, and ecstasy spread over the span of your pelvis and down your thighs. Once he grew limp, he slipped himself out of you, and you felt a slow stream of his cum run down the inside of your thigh.

“I said not to cum in me you fucking idiot.” Your legs were sweaty, making it easier for you to twist yourself out of Eren’s hold until you were now standing upright, both legs planted unsteadily on the ground.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.” Eren wrapped his arms around you apologetically, but you shrugged him off, using your elbow to drive him back.

Your eyes scanned the closet with haste, looking for tissue paper you could steal to clean up the mess between your thighs, and Eren must have sensed your aim because he made use of his height, seizing a large roll from the top shelf and unwrapping it before handing it to you.

You grabbed it out of his hands, waiving a statement of gratitude, and ripped away a few plies, crumpling them up into a generous wad. “You owe me eighty dollars.”

Eren’s eyebrows lifted and his face twisted into an incredulous expression while he stuffed himself back into his pants and buttoned them up. “Are you running a prostitution ring?”

“I’m serious. Fifty for the pill and thirty just for dealing with you.” You straightened out your uniform, and watched as Eren did the same, tugging on his collar to smooth out the creases.

“You’re a mean little bitch,” he jeered with a slight playful undertone, and then he looked off to the side in concentration. He turned around, pressing his ear to the door of the supply closet, and then he looked back at you. “I think they’re coming back.”

You hummed.

“I’ll walk out first.”

“Right,” you said unenthusiastically, recalling that no matter how many praises he lavished you with in private, in public you were still his dirty little secret. He vowed to you that he would end his current relationship because it was clear you were growing tired of being his toy, good enough for him to fuck but undeserving of anything else. And after all was said and done, when you two passed each other in the halls, he’d still glance at you with the cordiality of a stranger.

Eren had promised to handle it, yet it was obvious he had no intentions to, and you knew that while you watched him give you a fond smile before slipping out of the supply closet.

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