#all she needs is glasses and brown eyes then she'd really be me!

[luveline]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 —send me a shy!reader request for any character (with a plot) and I'll write a >1k drabble

sirius/james introducing shy!reader to remus. and shes just like quiet and in awe, but remus loves it.

luveline's 40k party ☆ tysm for requesting! remus x shy fem!reader

James is used to your personality after months of being your lecture neighbour, unperturbed by your quiet. "It's going to be fun," he promises, handing you a cold glass of cranberry vodka. "They're nice, okay? I won't let anyone irritate you." 

He's hosting a party and had the generosity to invite you round early. He's easing you in, so to speak. It took him two weeks of steady Hellos for you to work up the courage to say Hi back, another two weeks for small talk, a month before you felt comfortable speaking to him first. If you're that shy, a party is basically torture.

"It's not about irritating me," you say. 

"I know, I'm messing." James lists his head to the left. A second later, there's a knock at the door. "Aha. Wait here, shortcake, there's someone I want you to meet." 

"James," you say after him, wet from your glass leaking down to your sleeve, "what?" 

"I asked him to come early and say hello! He's quiet and handsome and you'll love him, just don't stare at his nose." 

What's wrong with his nose? you think, alarmed. 

James opens the door. Two new voices emerge, one scratchy and a little high, the other smoother. "I need to pee so bad," the scratchy one declares, followed by bounding footsteps up the stairs. 

"You alright?" the smoother asks.

You think there's patting, a hug, "I'm brilliant! You smell really nice, Remus, like a garden." 

"Lovely."

"In a good way! Come and meet my Y/N, you remember I told you about her nice gel pens?" 

James leads the smooth-voiced Remus into the living room. You hurriedly put down your drink and stand, wiping your wet hands in your shirt. You cringe at the darkening fabric but hide your grimace as they stop in front of you. 

"Remus, Y/N. Y/N, Remus," James introduces you both. 

Remus has a scar across his nose that seems cruelly cut. There's another beside it that starts in his upper lip, both of which end in his eyebrow. You know how self-conscious it feels to be looked at, so you manage to smile and offer your hand without too much of it. He's handsome with his scars, a nice nose with a ridge and brown eyes the colour of caramelised sugar.

"Hello," Remus says, shaking your hand. His is big enough to make yours feel small. 

"I invited her early because she's more fun than the rest of our lot," James says, throwing himself down on the sofa and kicking his legs out on the coffee table. 

Remus taps your elbow very gently as if to usher you to sit and sits down beside you, enough space to be casual but too little to stop the rampant nerves that blossom in your stomach. 

Remus asks about your life. What you're studying, where you're from, if James is being nice to you. While James is touchy in the rough older brother way, scrunching your shoulder and shaking you when you're not expecting it. Remus is touchy in a different way, you find, almost as if he doesn't know he's doing it. His shoe bumps your shoe, his hand falls down between his outer thigh and your own, his knuckles touching your jeans very lightly. He spins in his seat to talk to you. 

You don't notice other people arriving, nor the scratchy-voiced friends return. All you can do is look up at Remus with wide eyes. Your nerves meld to something warmer. 

"And what do you do?" you ask him. 

He smiles like you've wandered into a secret. "I'm trying to write a book." 

"He's being a bit much," Sirius says to James, the two now loitering in the doorway with matching beers. You and Remus chatter on, unaware of their running commentary.

"It's a very strong reaction. I knew she'd like him, but I didn't think she'd like him like that." James takes a sip of his drink. Remus asks you a quiet question. You duck your head, playing with your sleeves, and Remus, the bastard, ducks his head to follow your gaze, smiling at you all the while. 

James almost chokes, pointing his bottle toward you both as though Sirius isn't already looking. "He's eating it up. I forgot how flirty he is."

"She'll be nice to him, won't she?" Sirius asks, like it's a done deal. To be fair, Remus seems enthralled with you. 

"Definitely. She's very nice. Oh, look, that's sick, she's gonna pass out." James winces as Remus takes your arm into his hand. 

Remus wouldn't do anything cruel, but James wasn't joking when he told Remus that you were exceedingly, achingly shy. He's about to step in and rescue you, but you turn into Remus' touch and pull your leg up on the sofa to make yourself comfortable. Your voice is animated, if quieter than the average person's.

"Woah," James says, beaming.  

Remus flirts almost as a defence, like he wants to get the rejection over and done with so he can move on. You've yet to reject; you're looking up at him in moderate awe, your lips quirked into an easy smile. 

"Boo!" James calls, flicking his bottle cap at Remus, who brushes it away. "Took me three weeks to get a smile out of her," he mutters. "What a dick." 

[marleyybluu]

So Fine

Rio Martinez x black!fem!reader

Word count: 1.5k

Content warning: 18+, little bit of porn, little bit of plot, quickies in the bathroom, oral (m receiving), hitting it from the back, reader is described as curvaceous (but like once), no use of y/n, someone's not wearing panties, use of the word cock oops again, established relationship, sort of a shit ending cus I'm fried, creampies (obviously)

A/N: not necessarily inspired by the song I guess, I was listening to it when i wrote it so. and again no deep descriptions but reader has braids so shes a black woman in mind

(Sorry if the gif quality is shit lol)

His eyes were on her all night and he knew the minute this engagement party was over he'd be able to have his way with her. They didn't really want to make a big deal about their engagement but both their moms insisted they have a little party, and collect some gifts, they bared through it for the love of their sweet mothers. She wore an olive green dress that seemed to be glued to her, the outline of her curvaceous shape had him drooling, with a bit of champagne in his system he was ready to go home. But you can't leave your own party early, can you? 

He had gotten caught in a conversation with her father and as much as he loved the man he told some long ass stories, always deriving to a different one and explaining how it's connected to the current one. All he could do was hum and nod and throw in an occasional word or two, but his eyes seemed to never leave her as she participated in her own conversation with her cousins. Her laughter tickled his ears and he was surprised he could hear it over the music and talking. One of them nudges her and tries their best to point him out discreetly but he catches it, she turns her head and smiles at him and he smiles back. She excuses herself from the girls and makes her way over to them, she places a hand on her dad's shoulder and his attention is now on his little girl. 

"Are you talking his ear off again?" She asks kissing his cheek. Her dad shakes his head. "No, just... tellin' him some stories." 

She sighs and tilts her head. "I'm supposed to marry this man, do not tell him anything else embarrassing please." 

Her dad laughs and shrugs. "I mean you already got him, he's not going anywhere." 

"He's right, I'm not." Rio finally chimes in, she leaves her dad's side and slips her fingers in with Rio's. "Can we put a pause on the story? I just need his help for a second." She lies and he relaxes with relief that she'd come to save the day, happy to finally get a moment with her too. "Of course, take him." 

They say goodbye and she tugs him inside and towards a hallway where there are fewer people. "Thank you, I love your dad but-"

"I know, trust me," She giggles. He squeezes her hand affectionately and lifts their arms up, she doesn't hesitate to give him a twirl and he groans. "You're so fucking fine. I love this dress." 

"Thank you." She says looking down at her own body, she did look good tonight. She takes a last sip from her own glass of champagne and holds the now empty glass at her side, she eyes him up and down before boldly stating, "I have no panties on." 

His eyes widened a bit, she got him. She looks around to make sure no one notices that both of them vanish into the guest bathroom nearby. She pulls him inside and locks the door, she puts her empty glass on top of the counter and turns to face him with her palms pressed against the cold countertop as she leans back. Her tongue swipes across her bottom lip and her eyes shift down to the tent forming in his pants, she smiles and looks back up at his dilated eyes. She slides down into a squatting position, her high heels helping her put less pressure on her knees, her hands run over his brown belt and she eagerly undoes the buckle.

She pulls them down along with his boxers and his half-hard cock heavily pops out, she smiles gently taking him in her soft grip, her tongue slides from the base to the tip, she takes him in her mouth and his hands immediately fall on top of her head. She moans feeling him grow inside her mouth with every suck and lick. His rosy pink lips part and small huffs of breath escape, his eyes close for a moment, enjoying the feeling of her wet and warm mouth around him. His hips buck forward, his tip hitting the back of her throat, she pulls her head back-- a trail of drool connecting from his tip to her chin. 

She was such a pretty sight to see. She looks up at him holding eye contact while taking his dick in her mouth once again. Rio whines throwing his head back. She bobs her head at a slow pace, her hand comes up to cup his balls and he nearly loses his fucking mind, she carefully squeezes them, and fondles them to add to his pleasure. 

"Fuck, you're gonna kill me, baby." He moans. A familiar feeling washes over him, his eyes blink open, his hands grip her hair and he pulls her off of him. "I don't want to come in your mouth." He says between pants. "Why not?" She pouts. He wraps his hand around her arm pulling her up on her feet, he turns her around and she bends over for him. His hands greedily lift up her dress so that it now hangs around her hips. His eyes flash with desire when he realizes she really went commando. "You think you can tell me you're not wearing panties and expect me to not want to come inside you." 

She moans at his remark. His hands roved her body, squeezing her fleshy thighs, the feeling of her soft skin making him harder to the point where it was almost painful. He runs his fingers over her swollen pussy, her arousal dripping out of her, he licks his finger and practically melts at her taste. "Baby..." She whines pushing back on him, he smiles at the fact that she was just as needy and horny as him. His hands land on her hips, his foot nudging her legs further apart. He drives his hips forward, slowly pushing himself inside. Her eyes roll in pleasure. A throaty "Shit!" from him as he buried himself inside her. She was so fucking warm and her walls were plush and welcoming. She grips the counter as he bottoms out, neither of them was going to last long and they both knew it. 

Rio pulls out and pushes back in. "Oh!" She squeals as he fills her. He thrusts slowly at first, he liked to tease her, to see how long it'd take for her to crack and beg him to go faster. Her eyes roll and her lips part making the perfect 'O'. 

"Oh, shit." He moans lightly tugging her braids and forces her to hold her head up instead of resting on the counter. 

She cries out as he repeatedly hits her sweet spot, she reaches back and holds onto his forearm, her nails digging into the material of his clothes. "Fuck me, please, harder." She whines, he yanks her towards him, her back pressed against his chest, her head falling back on his shoulder her arm hooking around his neck, his nose nudged in the crook of her neck, her precious perfume tickling his senses. "Always smell so fucking good, you feel so fucking good." He says hotly in her ear. He feels her clench around his shaft. "You're squeezing me, baby." He moans the two of them go at it without a care in the world of anyone potentially hearing them, the sound of skin slapping probably seeping through the crack of the door while he pounds into her. The squelching sound of her wetness being penetrated by his dick, her arousal dripping onto him. 

He kisses the back of her neck. "Don't stop, Im gonna cum." She cries and her pussy weeps as she coats him her slick, her body stills and pleasure takes over her entire being just for a moment. He gives her a few more thrusts dragging out her orgasm as his approaches, he lets out a choked-out moan as he empties himself inside of her, and she hums at the feeling as it turns her on all over again. "Mmm, I'm ready to just go home and fuck you on the couch." He flirts leaving a trail of kisses over her shoulder. She sighs contently and smiles. "We can't." 

"I know, I know." 

She feels his length soften inside her and almost whimpers when he pulls back leaving her empty. He stuffs his dick back into his boxers while she tugs her dress down to cover herself up. As she cleaned herself up and fixed her appearance as best as she could he stood behind her admiring her through the reflection of the mirror. "What?" She asks. "I love you. I'm glad you said yes." 

She smiles warmly and looks down at her ring. "Me too, I can't wait to run you dry." She jokes and then looks him up and down. "In more ways than one." 

If you liked this fic free to like this fic, likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated. peace and love, see you in the next one 🤙🏾 If you're interested in reading other fics based on songs just like this one you can find them here in 'The Mixtapes.' playlist.

tags: @darqchilddaydreamz @rio-reid-whoreee @skyesthebomb

that might be interested: @realhotgurlshit @lovedlover @librarian1002

[luvhughes43]

Yes! I need the Hughes!sister and Nico au!!!

Like when or how did they realize they had feelings for each other?

🫶🫶🫶

so nico and blake had met before obviously, but they never really hung out because they were both super busy with their own sports. but with blake injuries, jack and nico go over to her apartment a lot to check up on her and thats where they get super close

SO! here are some things that made them realize they liked the other person:

blake:

whenever her phone rang or buzzed, her first thought always went to nico and hoping that he was the reason behind her notifs

when jack would come over to her apartment and she'd catch herself being disappointed when nico didn't come with him

nicos brown puppy dog eyes. once hes talking to her, literally sitting like a foot or two away from her, and shes just completely mesmerized. she doesn't realize he stopped talking and once she catches on shes like "did i really just sit here with my cheek resting on my palm mesmerized by this man..."

when she was scrolling through the njd merch website to buy something to wear to one of jacks upcoming games and she decides to impulsively buy nicos jersey (she doesn't admit that she's bought it tho she keeps it in her closet and periodically pulls it out to stare at)

she starts giggling and blushing whenever hes talking to her even if what he said isn't funny

when she downloads duolingo to try and learn some swiss german after one too many glasses of wine tho is when she realizes she truly has a problem and that she fr likes him

nico:

when hes cooking himself dinner at night and he immediately thinks of making enough for blake and bringing it over to her apartment. hes like "well... i know shes upset right now so..." and so he doubles whatever recipe hes making

when jack tells him that blakes starting to feel better and that nico doesnt have to come with him to her apartment anymore and nicos first thought is ... "but i want to see blake"

when theyre out one night with the rest of the team and the boys keep urging him to go talk to this girl who's staring at him but he refuses because "why would i leave blake to talk to these idiots without me"

when hes hanging out with friends and blake calls and so he's immediately excusing himself from the room so he can hear her properly

he remembers all the little things like her coffee orders, favourite songs, snacks, etc... all saved into his notes app "just in case she needs something"

when jack comes over to nicos apartment to hang out and nico distractedly asked where blake was... (gagged jack bad)

nico watching a whole season of a tv show on a plane ride just because blake mentioned that she liked it

overhearing jack asking blake when she was gonna get a bf... his heart started beating fr hoping that she had no prospects (aside from him ofc) when this happens he reevaluates and is like... "okay maybe i'm not doing all of this because i think of her as just a friend.." and then he goes down that spiral of "if its morally wrong to date my teammate / bromance twins sister"

[talkfantasytome]

Glasses

A teeny, tiny drabble so that I could participate and do something for @nestaarcheronweek despite my crazy, hectic life. I've always imagined that Nesta wears glasses for work or reading or something, and that it drives Cassian absolutely nuts. I wish I had more time to make this more, maybe some day, but for now, I give you Cassian appreciating Nesta in glasses. 💕

Am I still good to swing by to bring your key back?

Yep! Working from home and have no more meetings today. Come by whenever you want, no need to knock.

Cassian smiled at the words flashing across his screen as he reached the windowed door that revealed the doors to the two apartments in Nesta's converted townhouse. Nesta had already told him twice that he could come by any time after noon today, but he let his nerves get the better of him and he had to check just one last time. Even if he was already on her street.

"How are you already here?" the silky sharp voice of his girlfriend asked, carrying easily down the stairs as he opened the door to her apartment.

Cassian chuckled, closing the door and locking it behind him. "Couldn't get to you fast enough, sweetheart," he called up as he began to climb. It was a steep staircase. And dark. He hated it. Nesta could really hurt herself on it, and that was something he wouldn't be able to handle. Cassian dreaded the day he got a call telling him she'd fallen down these damn stairs.

Reaching the main floor, he set the keys down on the tall table in front of him just as a large, cream furball let out a loud hiss.

"Even after feeding you for a week, you still hate me?" he muttered, bending down to see if Ataraxia would sniff at his fingers. The furry little beast lifted his nose up and sauntered away from Cassian like a little prince. "Your cat is a spoiled brat," he said, walking down the small hall toward where he knew Nesta would be working in her large living room.

"As he should be," she replied.

Cassian walked into the room and suddenly the world felt lighter as he laid his eyes on his girlfriend for the first time in a week. Staring intently at the computer screens in front of her, all he could really see was her delicate frame and the golden brown hair tied back in her typical coronet style.

He took a step toward her, going to give her a quick kiss on the cheek, and then paused in his tracks as Nesta turned in her chair to look at him.

There, resting on top of her perfect nose, was a pair of rounded-square glasses in a dark frame. They weren't exactly hipster glasses - too small for that - but they were a similar shape that sat perfectly in Nesta's face.

Nesta was always the most beautiful woman in the room, always sharp and stunning and obviously intelligent. So Casssian wasn't sure exactly what it was about these glasses, but they took his breath away. Perhaps he was more attracted to librarians than he realized. Or maybe it was just Nesta, looking absolutely stunning in everything, and adding new fantasies about glasses Cassian never thought he'd desire.

"Wh…what are those?" he asked like an idiot, pointing to her face.

Nesta let out a small laugh. "My glasses? I wear them for work. They're just blue-light lenses, they keep me from getting a headache when staring at a screen for a long time."

"They're-"

"A necessary nuisance."

"-phenomenal." Nesta blushed at Cassian's last word, turning back to the computer screen.

Cassian wanted to riot, just as he always did when Nesta looked away from him. It should be illegal, for him not to be able to look upon her face. But especially now. Who knew wen he'd get to see her in glasses again? He needed to find a way to save himself from this withdrawal, and he knew just the thing. "Don't you get a lunch hour?" he asked softly, stepping closer to Nesta and leaning his chin on her shoulder.

"Yes…" she answered slowly, turning her face to look at him.

He grinned. "Great. So why don't you log off but keep those glasses on and join me in the bedroom?"

Before Nesta could answer, Cassian left a kiss on her neck and sauntered to the back of the apartment, smirking as her heard soft footsteps following him.

If you'd like to be added to my taglist, let me know!

@live-the-fangirl-life @generalnesta @secretlovelybeauty @julemmaes @boredserpent @autumnbabylon @moodymelanist @sv0430 @nesquik-arccheron @gwynrielsupremacy @katekatpattywack @moonstoneriver77 @swankii-art-teacher @lemonade-coolattas @emily-gsh @my-fan-side @champanheandluxxury @imsointobooks @sayosdreams @simpingfornestaarcheron @perseusannabeth @shinya-hiiragi @a-court-of-milkandhoney @pintas3107 @embersofwildfire @superspiritfestival @thewayshedreamed @lunabean @xstarlightsupremex @mis-lil-red @wannawriteyouabook @dealfea @bridgertononmymind @daydreamer-anst @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @hiimheresworld @c-e-d-dreamer @kale-theteaqueen @charming-butt-insane @charliespringsleftconverse

[steviewashere]

Be My Lover 🔞Minors DNI🔞

Okay, hi, it's me again. Feral and horny over another thought.

Rating: Explicit CW: Genitalia referred to with actual names (i.e. Stevie's cock, Eddie's vagina.), Alcohol Use, Drunk Sex (They're Both Slightly Tipsy) Tags: Alternate Universe - No Upside Down, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, T4T, Transfeminine Steve Harrington, Transmasculine Eddie Munson, First Meeting, Hookup, Getting Together, Bathroom Sex, Penis in Vagina Sex, Safe Sex, Daddy Kink, Nipple Sucking, Grinding, Fondling, Groping, Making Out, Eddie Munson Calls Steve Harrington Pet Names, Eddie Munson Calls Steve Harrington Princess, Gay Bar, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Gentleman

Title from "Be My Lover" by La Bouche

Read on AO3

🏳️‍⚧️—————🏳️‍⚧️ The club is packed with bodies. Sweaty, dancing bodies. Music thumping, upbeat and bright all around. People shouting over the sounds, drinks sloshing in hand, some of them shirtless, some hairy and big, some small and flexible.

Stevie's freshly out, still in the beginning stages of her transition. A pin on her clothes to signal. But she wanted a night out where she can truly feel and be herself and be respected as such. Hair long to the middle of her back, wavy, and smelling of fresh berries from her hairspray. Her makeup is shiny, heavy blush on her cheeks, lips a light cherry red. Wearing a sequined, baby pink, spaghetti strap, v-neck dress. It's not short, goes right to her knees. Her muscular, smooth, thick (delicious, if you're in Eddie's brain) legs on display. White, closed toe heels on her feet. She's not exactly there to put on a show, but can feel the weight of somebody's gaze on her and finds she doesn't mind it.

She turns to see a man staring at her. His eyes are big, round, and deep. Enticing. Frame lithe and loose. Leaning against the bar, holding a glass of something honey brown—whiskey or bourbon, Stevie can't tell. He's wearing tight black jeans that leave no room for the imagination, white cropped t-shirt that reads something like Accept but the word is faded, and some beat up low-top black Converse. Honestly, he looks to fit better in a dive bar. But he's got a pin by his collar—the bisexual pride flag. And one a little bigger than that, the trans pride flag.

Immediately, she's intrigued.

Instead of continuing to dance with the strangers around her, she strides over to the bar. Her heels clicking against the concrete floor. He startles straighter against the bar once he notices her coming over. But when she slows slightly, giving him more time to really consider the opportunity that's arising, he relaxes. A smirk on his face, eyes not so subtly raking over her body.

When she finally stops in front of him, hands clasped below the small pouch of her belly, he locks his stare. Pupils dilated. Something already heated about them. This guy is a little shorter than her, not by much maybe just an inch, but she thinks she'd be able to pick him up if needed. Which may be very needed if this goes the way she wants it to.

"Mind if I join you?" she asks sweetly, gesturing to the empty stool next to him. Instead of speaking, he gestures enthusiastically to the seat. Even going so far as to pull it out for her to sit in. She settles easily, red flushing her cheeks darker, and gazes at him as he sits down, too. "Thank you," she murmurs.

"Pretty girls don't pull out their own seats," the guy purrs. Now that he's closer to her, she can smell him. His musk, deep and spicy. Like whiskey and cinnamon. The faintest scent of a cigarette freshly smoked. There's stubble on his jaw, most likely prickly if she were to brush her fingers on it. His ears are pierced. And his hair...She's in love with it. Down to the top of his chest, curly and dark brown, the softest thing she's ever seen.

She doesn't even notice that she's checking him out until a hand cups her jaw, raises her head gently, and then their eyes are meeting again. That smirk is back. And there's a dimple on his cheek.

And Stevie thinks she might be halfway in love already.

Eloquently, she mumbles, "Huh?"

He chuckles, deep in his chest. She melts into his hand still on her jaw. His thumb swipes down her cheek in short stripes. "Asked if you wanted anything to drink, babygirl."

"Oh!" she quietly exclaims. Her face heats up impossibly more. Wonders, very briefly, if he can feel it, too. "Oh, uh, just a cold Miller? That's what I usually get."

The guy slinks his hand away and Stevie already mourns the loss. Hums. "Beer drinker, huh? Could you be any more insatiable?"

"Mm, I dunno. If we get some time alone, you could find out?"

His pale cheeks turn lightly pink in the quick flash of white light that hits him. He clicks his, now noticeable, ringed fingers on the bar's counter. "Maybe I could once I get your name, baby?"

"Stevie," she responds a little too quickly. "And you?"

"Eddie," he states warmly. Leans in to her space. Whispers, "Daddy, if you're lucky by the end of the night."

He leaves her space as quick as he entered it, waves the bartender down, orders her drink, and finishes off his own glass. She can only blink, mouth slightly ajar. Wondering if he'll notice her rapidly appearing bulge when he turns back. Finds that she wouldn't mind that at all. Wouldn't mind leaving here tonight a little more peppy than before.

When her beer arrives, they talk back and forth for a while. Jobs. "Mechanic on the weekdays, musician on the weekends," he says. Preferences. "You," he flirts—she squirmed at that one.

She's pleasantly buzzed, but not full on drunk. Aware and slightly floating. They're closer than they were before. Almost sharing the same stool. His right hand is on her back, rubbing lightly up and down her spine. Her left hand on his thigh, squeezing near his crotch, relishing in how he hums at the sensation.

He rests his chin on her shoulder. And in her left ear, husks, "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met." Tentatively, Eddie presses a sticky kiss to her earlobe. "Can't believe I found you first, baby." His nose is buried in her hair, tickling at her scalp. Fingers at the base of her neck, dully scratching at her skin over moles. Lips moving down to her bare neck. Against her skin, "Fuck, you smell delicious, sweetheart," he mumbles.

"Ed," she quietly whines. "Not here in front of—"

"Bathroom?" he asks in a hushed voice. "Could lock the door. Muffle your delightful sounds with my palm. Make you feel good. You want that, baby?"

She nods enthusiastically. "Yes, Eddie. Please," she lightly moans.

In a matter of seconds, he's laid out the money for his tab, left their empty cups on the counter, and dragged them bodily towards the unisex bathroom. He shoves first into the restroom, leaving her leaned against the door. Locks it. And presses close into her space.

She lays her hands on his lower back, dangerously close to his ass. He kisses across the front of her neck, over her Adam's apple, down to the dip in her collarbones. Suckles lightly on her bare skin, close to the right spaghetti strap of her dress, over her heart. Nibbling gingerly on her soft skin.

Her head thunks back onto the door. Moaning openly as his teeth work harder. She scoots her hands down onto his asscheeks, cupping them in her palms, and squeezes heftily with his bite. "Ed—Eddie, fuck," she breathes.

He pulls back, a thin string of saliva connecting them. "Am I able to touch you, sweetheart?"

She nods hastily. "Please," Stevie whimpers, "don't wanna come on my dress."

"Fuck, baby, alright," he mewls. Carefully, he pulls down the straps of both her dress and her bra. She's not that big on her chest, not yet, but he eyes her like she's a masterpiece. And that makes her feel brave. His thumbs massage at the top of her breasts, down on the outsides, and then he cups her in both of his palms. Brings his mouth to her right nipple and latches on gently.

The estrogen she takes makes her chest incredibly sensitive. Noticeable, especially now, with Eddie's hot saliva drowning over her rapidly hardened bud. The way her legs shake underneath her, her hands spasming where she still gropes Eddie's ass. She lolls her head back and forth over the door, hair scraping. Eyes rolled back and mouth open in a raspy, breathy moan.

His tongue laves over in clockwise circles. Her lonely breast being gently soothed with his hand. Thumb massaging over her freed nipple. And then, he changes his attention to solely focus on her left breast. She can't help the way her hips buck forward, bulge pressed tightly against his knee. Moaning brokenly and wanton at the contact.

He pulls back again. Eyes heavy, lids halfway closed, lips spit slick. Hungry. His hands move from her still exposed chest down to her hips, at the pudge that's begun to form there. Eddie squeezes gently at her new thickness, moving closer and closer to her crotch. She watches in a daze, already panting heavily, spit rapidly cooling.

"Condom," she finally works out, rasping. "Tucked in the waistband of my panties."

His eyes widen slightly, bouncing back to her. He grins. "Well, you come prepared, don't you?"

"Don't want to make you an actual daddy, do we?" she teases. "Come on," she whines, "I'm so fucking horny right now."

"Alright, babygirl, I've got you," he coos. His hands move down to the bottom of her dress. Feeling underneath the skirt, up her thick thighs, to where the waistband of her panties dig into her hips. The crinkle of the condom wrapper loud between them as she rasps above. "Got it, baby. How do you wanna do this?"

"How much do you weigh?"

He quirks an eyebrow. "That's kind of—"

"I'm lifting you, dumbass." She snorts. "Come on, Daddy. Wanna make you feel good," she teases once more.

Eddie rolls his eyes, but the flush is hard to hide in the fluorescent light of the bathroom. "150. Let me get us ready, baby. I'll be quick and careful, promise."

"I trust you," Stevie whispers. And finds that to be the truth.

Something glistens in his eyes when they lock stares again. But it's gone quickly as he ducks down. Puts his hands under the dress again. And peels her lacy, pink as her dress panties down her legs. She whines the moment his warm hand makes contact with her cock. He's slow and meticulous with wrapping the condom onto her. When he's done, he steps back, chucks his sneakers off, works his jeans down to the linoleum floor, and spits into his palm.

With heavy lids, she watches him touch himself. Gently circling where his clit is, teasing the wiry pubic hair on his vagina. He slides his middle finger in to the second knuckle, the same with his ring finger. And rubs gently, yet quickly. His teeth bite into his plush bottom lip. Breathing heavy through his nose. Eyes almost closed with arousal. Sweat building on his happy trail.

Finally, he pulls his fingers free. They're pruned on the fingertips. Vagina slick with want. He wipes his hand on his exposed belly, steps forward, and lifts the hem of her dress.

She wraps her arms back around him, pulling him in tight and close. Ready to come already, just from his display. "You ready?" Stevie husks. "I'll lift you, wrap you legs around my waist. I've got you."

"I know you won't drop me, babygirl. I'm ready whenever you are, no rush."

At his confirmation, she hefts him up underneath his asscheeks. Resting his ass on the shelf she's created with her forearms. He responds immediately by wrapping his legs around her, squeezing at her lower back with his calves. His hands lift up the skirt of her dress, draping it over his legs and where Stevie's cock is about to go inside him. The prickly hair on his legs rubs against her bare sides.

Eddie peels his t-shirt off. Top surgery scars on display, beautiful on the underside of his chest. And he presses against her bare breasts. Their nipples rubbing up against each other.

She moans, squeezes under his ass, and finally worms the first few inches of her cock inside of him. His breath catches, moaning high into her ear. And then his lips on hers, messy and filthy and hungry. She's ready to be devoured.

He raises himself slightly. Grinding down onto her cock. Getting the last of her girth inside of him. Moaning breathless right into her mouth, she can't help but breathe air back into his lungs. Their noses plunge into each other. Chests burning as they rub at one another. His socked feet warm and pressing into the small of her back.

Eddie's kisses are tender, loving, and careful. Each roll of his hips is almost like a love letter to her. His hands resting on her shoulders, squeezing, dull fingernails digging into her soft flesh—all of it like a promise.

She's never been taken care of like this before. Even as she's slightly tipsy now, nothing's ever been this good. Nobody's ever been this good to her. It almost makes her want to cry.

"Fuck, Daddy," she breathes into Eddie's mouth. "Fuck, you feel amazing." His heat warms her through the condom. She can imagine what it's like without it. With his slick pre-come dripping down to the base of her cock, between where her thigh meets her groin. Getting messy, filthy, painted with it. To be shiny and glistening with it.

"Yeah, baby?" Eddie husks. "You're a fucking dream, Stevie. So lucky," he babbles, "so lucky to have you. Pretty girl, prettiest."

She whines instead of responding, grinding up into him. Faster and faster still. Her orgasm is close. Tingling low and warm and heavy in her belly. Into the tops of her thighs, burning. Her forearms dig into the meat of his ass.

With one final thrust, a broken moan on her lips, she comes undone. Just as he yelps something raw and low into her ear. She swears she feels it, his slick dripping onto the tops of her feet, bare where her heels don't cover.

It's the best thing she's ever felt, sans this night with Eddie.

Carefully, Eddie's legs unwrap from her. Her arms jelly like and hanging limp at her sides once he's back on the ground. Bare chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. He walks back towards the roll of toilet paper by the toilet, rips off a wad, and saunters back.

"Can't," she pants, "can't believe you're basically naked in this nasty restroom."

Eddie shrugs. "I've had sex in worse places," he states nonchalantly. He drops down to his knees, unrolls the filled condom from Stevie's slow to limp cock, and wipes her reverently with the toilet paper.

She grimaces. "Ew," Stevie murmurs, "I don't even wanna know."

He hums as he stands back up, her panties pulled back up, and tosses their mess away. "Next time we'll do it in one of our beds, baby. Don't worry," he says warmly, softly. His bare back and ass is towards her as he wipes at himself, cleaning up the slick slowly dripping down the insides of his thighs. "I'll make sure to have the softest sheets for you, princess. And a cold bottle of water for after. Make you my favorite post-sex sandwich. It'll be better."

As Stevie stuffs her breasts back into her bra and places the straps on her shoulders, she takes a swift inhale of breath. He's still naked and wiping at himself. Acting as if he didn't promise her the world. "Really? You...You wanna have sex with me again?"

Eddie looks over his shoulder. Eyes soft and earnest. "Yeah, if you'll have me. I'm not letting the most beautiful girl get away. Especially knowing that she's the best lay I've ever had."

Something warms inside of her. He saunters back, scoops up his clothes, and begins to redress himself. She takes a tentative step forward, while his t-shirt is hanging on his elbows. Drops a sweet little kiss to his cheek. "And you're the most handsome guy I've had the pleasure of meeting. Maybe...You wanna get dinner with me tomorrow?"

He pulls his shirt over his head. Scoops his hair out of the collar. And then kisses her back. Directly on the lips. Soft and slow and achingly tender. "Of course, princess. I'd be honored."

When she leaves that night, that pep in her step, stomach warm with bar nachos and tender words, and Eddie's number—she knows she's already in love.

🏳️‍⚧️—————🏳️‍⚧️ I wrote this instead of sleeping. I have jury duty in a few hours, so. Gotta make sure y'all are fed before I go offline for some several hours later. ;)

[techtalksfics]

If I had known... (Tech x f!reader)

Summary: The reader finds out that the boys had headed off treasure hunting with Phee. Jealousy, a shame spiral and soft confessions ensue.

Warnings: a little soft, fluffy love, some drinking (I swear not all of my future stories will involve drunken stupidity), some anxiety vibes.

Author's note: sorry that this was delayed, between the illness and the job applications, it's been a busy week! I hope this is not awful!

Word Count: 5.7K (oops)

Now Available: Part Two

After your shift ended, you wandered towards Cid's, bag over your shoulder, expecting to find your favourite clones relaxing between missions. That is where they had told you they would be.

Yet, when you arrived, you found the bar to deserted. Looking very much like it did in the days before the Bad Batch came crashing into your world. Why was the bar empty?

You put your bag behind the bar, out of sight and frowned. You checked your comm device for messages - the screen lit up with no new messages. No messages meant they hadn't been sent off on another mission. You walked towards the back office, hoping Cid could shed some light. Perhaps they had left for a mission in a hurry, you pondered. They normally tell you when they are heading off world. 'There is enough time between the planning and supply runs, to keep you apprised of our whereabouts', as Tech had told you. You thought they certainly would have told you tonight, particularly when you had made plans for dinner with Tech.

"Hey Cid," you sighed as her door opened. She was behind her desk, holoscreen open and was highlighting her worst features. She closed it suddenly as you entered her office. She really needed to remind you lot of manners and how not to get too comfortable in her bar. "Have you seen the guys? I was supposed to see Tech this evening."

Now that Cid thought about it, she really should've seen this coming. They'd all left in such a hurry and you were really not going to like her answer.

"They've headed off world searching for some kind of treasure," she rolled her eyes and stood. "Typical, that they'd scarper just as a new mission came in." As she walked around her desk toward you, she sighed and gave you the piece of information you were missing, "they went off with Phee earlier this afternoon." Your whole body stilled at that.

"With Phee?!" You couldn't help that her name left your throat with almost loth-cat screech. You weren't the type to get jealous, particularly when you knew Tech wasn't even your boyfriend. He was just your friend but there was still something about her unashamed flirting with him on their first encounter that continued to rub you the through way. All these many, many months later.

"Come on, kid," you felt the sharp edge of Cid's clawed fingers wrap around your shoulder, "I get the feeling, you could use a drink around about now."

Three very strong drinks in, you found yourself with your head resting on your knuckles and slightly propped up by the pillar beside you. It was as if all of your muscle had gone into your complaining and the walls presence was the only thing keeping you in your seat. "-and it's not even like he's my boyfriend or anything. He doesn't have to tell me where he's going or who he's going with." You sighed, lifting the almost empty glass to your lips. After take a sip, you continued your tirade, "it's just way she calls him brown eyes." You did your best to imitate her unique accent, which caused Cid to roll her eyes. The way she had the first time she'd heard the nickname. "They all have brown eyes," you continued, trying to ignore the onslaught of looks you were getting from Cid as you talked and talked. "Yes, his eyes are phenotypically normal for a clone but there is something so distinct in the way his eyes express what he is saying and thinking. It's the fact that she sees that too."

"Kid," Cid's voice was stern and your head snapped up to look at her once more, "face it, you've got it bad. So instead of whining at me about it, why don't you actually do something about it. Tell Goggles how you feel."

"I can't tell him how I feel!" You retorted. Cid let out an exasperated, 'oh brother.' "I'm just this little nobody who grew up on Ord Mantell, because her parents didn't want her and he's..."

"A clone?" She finished for you. "That's all he has ever known how to be. Try to remember that, kid, okay?" You shook your head and asked for another drink. She put another in front of you, though she wasn't convinced that she had made the right decision in doing so. She shook her head and walked away, mumbling something about 'there not being enough credits in galaxy for her to deal with this'.

None of what she said stopped you from downing several more drinks and seeking out Bolo and Ketch, who were playing Dejarik in the far corner of the room. Truthfully, if you'd asked them, they would say with absolute certainty that they were trying to not get involved in your chatter. But you just drunk enough to not care about that. You sat, hugging the backwards chair, legs spread across its frame and mumbling on about Phee and Tech as they continued their match. "It's not as they wouldn't make sense together," you continued where your thoughts had been left with Cid, "the mercenary and the pilot. The fact and the fiction. They'd be like a perfectly..." you burped out the bubbles from your drink in the most unladylike manner and continued, "a perfectly balanced knife of intergalactic trouble."

Bolo and Ketch simply looked at each other in utter confusion and then looked up at you, completely perplexed and unable to utter one useful word to you. This was well outside their area of expertise. You sighed. Again.

"Alright," Cid's voice came booming into the room as she re-entered the main bar from her office, "you've had enough." You must have been on your sixth drink by this point. "Come on, up you get," she'd already grabbed your bag from behind the bar and was ushering you towards the door, "go home, sober up," she pointed her finger at you with a stern glare set in her eyes, "and don't come back until you've fixed this 'woe is me' attitude. You're bringing down my clientele."

As you stumbled up the steps, you placed your hand on the hall and sighed. God this was a new low, you whined to yourself.

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

Omega was the first to stop you at the end of the alley. As soon as you had seen them, you had frozen in space. They had returned and the boys were clearly en route to Cid's with Phee. Visions of the last night you had been in there came flooding back to your mind. Oh god, you panicked, what if Cid told Tech about what had happened?

You wouldn't exactly put that past her.

You looked at Phee with despair in your eyes, she had her arm around a rather tense looking Sergeant. She was rambling off about something, her other arm was above her head and she exclaimed something you couldn't quite hear. Her voice certainly does travel and it certainly kept you routed in your spot.

Tech was walking just behind them and you weren't convinced he was listening to Phee talk in any shape or form. He was tinkering away on his comm device. You knew, right then, you had been a complete and utter fool. A completely smitten, idiotic fool.

Yet, you couldn't move. You couldn't convince yourself to move towards them, to shout out or make yourself known in any way. You couldn't face them.

Omega called out your name and, in the horror of seeing Tech's neck snap up to look for you, you instantly turned on your heel and ran back around the corner of the building. You could barely breathe, as those brown eyes flittered through your mind. Those beautiful, intelligent brown eyes. They were unique - no matter what he said. They were so wonderfully, uniquely Tech.

"Omega - WAIT!" You heard Hunter's stern yell. She was running after you and here you were, hiding and clutching your chest, unable to breathe. How were you going to explain this one, you groaned to yourself internally.

You heard Omega closing in on your as she called out your name again. She reached the corner and spotted you, almost jolting back as she saw you. Concern instantly washed over her features and she saw you in a thousand pieces in front of her. "Wh-what's wrong?" She questioned almost immediately and you knew you couldn't tell her the truth.

Oh, I just saw Tech and Phee and my heart just completely faltered in a stupid agony. Yeah, no - you definitely couldn't say that.

"Nothing, Omega, I'm okay. Honest," you thought you'd try.

"No, you're not."

"N-no, I'm not." You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself enough to get yourself out of this mess. You realised that the easiest way out of this was to run right through it, with your partner in crime, Omega. "Hey, do you reckon Hunter would let you run off with me for a bit? I could use some air."

"We are outside," she said with a delightfully innocent chuckle, "there's quite a lot of air out here."

"Heh -" was the only sound that left your throat, "doesn't feel like it." Reaching your hand up to your forehead, you wiped the sweat that drenched your brow. You were a mess. An utter, idiotic mess. "Let's go get some better air, Omega."

In that moment, it was clear that Omega knew you needed something, she just wasn't quite sure what that was. She played along - as she always did. You took another deep breath as Omega ran back towards Hunter at the other end of the alley. You assumed she went to explain where she was going and you heard his deep baritone announce 'alright, but don't be long'. You imagined him pointing his finger at her, fatherly fashion activated.

You took another deep breath.

But then you heard it. You heard Tech speak softly to Omega and you tried so hard not to listen. 'Is she okay?' You heard, 'does she require medical assistance?'

Oh Tech, you silly fool, you quipped to yourself. You didn't hear Omega's response but before long, she reappeared at your side, offering you her dainty hand. She asked where you were going. With a smile, you took her hand and said "let's go check out the best view in Ord Mantell."

You headed out towards the docking yard together. The Marauder sat neatly alongside a handful of other ships, currently being refuelled.

Heading over to the wall, you started to climb ladder after ladder until you reached the top landing pad. You sat yourself down, with Omega at your side. There was a gentle breeze settling in around you as the sun began to set over Ord Mantell. The orange and purple haze of the distant sunset bore across your skin as you settled down. Breathe in and breathe out. That's all you had to do.

Neither of you spoke right away, though you could tell that Omega had a lot of questions about what she had just seen in that alleyway. You close your eyes, simply enjoying the breeze.

"Are you gonna -" You smile, and cut her off.

"I'll tell you Omega," you lolled your head to the side and looked down at her. "But you cannot, and I mean cannot, repeat what you hear to the others. Deal?"

"Why would I tell the others? Are you in danger?" She queried.

"Do we have a deal?" You quirked your eyebrow at her, raising your hand towards her, for dramatic effect. As she shook it, you nodded your head decisively at her. "I..." you started and then sighed. You had found yourself sighing a lot in recent days. "I like Tech. A lot. Cid told me you lot had been off with Phee and I acted stupid and jealous about it. Drank a bit too much, talked a bit too much. So when I saw you lot, I guess I was, well, embarrassed... to say the least."

"You...like..." Omega began to process the information, repeating it in almost the exact tone it had been said. Poor child, you had just dumped far too much information on her. "Tech?"

"Yes."

"So... you hid." She queried.

"Yep."

"Even though you knew he'd seen you."

"Yes again."

"Even though that probably drew more attention than doing nothing."

"Yes. That is about the size of it, yes." You chuckled as she looked at you in confusion. "Hey, I said you couldn't tell them. I didn't say any of it would make sense."

There was a wonderfully natural laughter that settled between the two of you and you felt your cheeks heat up from the sheer embarrassment of the whole situation. She asked you why you felt the need to hide. "Because, all of a sudden, I felt my entire body collapse at the mere sight of a man and that terrified me. It all terrified me." You prayed she didn't ask you why.

"But why?"

Damn it, you internally cursed. You should've remembered her inquisitive nature was destined to be a nightmare here. When you didn't speak and instead settled your gaze back on the sunset, she continued, "you've never had a problem around Tech before. You're really the only person he takes an interest in outside of us lot." Kids got a point, you thought. "Besides, we all know that Tech likes you!"

As if hit by a sudden bolt of lightning, Omega was on her feet and was smiling in glee.

This did not bode well for you. Where the hell is she going now?!

"Omega, wait -" You found yourself yelling after her, just as Hunter had done earlier. She really did move too fast. "Omega," you called as you groaned to your feet. She'd already reached the first ladder by the time you stood. "Omega, where are you going? You're going to get me in trouble with Hunter." It was almost a beg, you realised.

It was of no use, regardless, she was already two ladders down by the time you'd gotten a foot onto the first one. By the time you'd make it half way down, she'd probably be in Cid's bar already. Before you could even stop her.

What if she was going to tell Tech. Oh, hell no. This was going to backfire so badly.

You started to climb as fast as you could, calling out her name as you went. She didn't respond. So you continued to climb down, down and down...and quickly.

Hunter's going to kill me, you groaned to yourself as your feet touched the dirt. Your older bones were not designed for chasing children around Ord Mantell.

Luckily, and much to your surprise, she had stopped at the Marauder. She was stood at the entrance, hands on her hips, waiting for you. Her face still shone with glee. Your body was still in a panic so you ran across to her, only stopping when you were within about 4 feet of her. You panted, trying to catch your breath.

Shaking your head, you asked, "okay, so, what are we doing on here?" She grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the bunks. You suddenly felt like you were invading the private mental space of your favourite clones. It was an uncomfortable level of familiarity that you had been granted, without their knowlegde.

"It's your turn to make a deal with me." She bounced on her toes, and she held out her hand. As you shook it, she nodded her head at you, mimicking your action from earlier. With a chuckle, you shook your head at her. "Tech," she began sheepishly, "wouldn't exactly like to know that I do this. I don't even know if he would want you to know."

"If he wouldn't -"

"But you need it and right now, you come first." As your curiosity piqued, you folded your arms across your chest and nodded your head, urging her on. She was going to tell you anyway. "Sometimes, I use his tablet when mine is out of battery and he isn't using it. Look -" Grabbing the device, she lit the screen and showed it to you.

Your heart had certainly stopped. You were so convinced it had.

There, in pixelated form, was the photo you had taken together after you'd stolen his goggles. Donning a silly grin, you still had the goggles on. Your head was against Tech's shoulder and his arm was around your waist. As you remembered this tender moment, you could almost feel his hand on your hip still. After all this time. His eyes were squinting in the photo, but he had a small, proud smile quirked on his lips. Almost prideful as he stood next to you.

You had never even asked to see the photo after it was taken and now, you had just wished you had. You loved it.

Well, you thought, this was certainly a new development.

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

When you walked into Cid's with Omega, you tried so hard to keep your head held high after earlier. But between Cid's soft squint, Omega's smirk, Hunter's titled head and Tech's sudden rise to his feet as he saw you, you felt yourself retreating inside yourself once again.

You tried to smile at Tech but the moment your eyes caught his, you immediately heard brown eyes in your head and made a beeline for the nearest bar stool instead. Phee looked between everybody, completely perplexed by the strange silence that had settled.

A drink was placed in front of you almost immediately.

"No repeats of last week's antics, kid, you got it?" Cid pointed her long, taloned finger at you and you held your hands up in defence, mumbling some form of an apology.

"What happened last week?" Hunter enunciated each word with a careful look in your direction. When you didn't look at him, he looked to Cid. Cid looked at Bolo and Ketch. Nobody said a word.

However, from the corner of your mouth, you noticed Bolo about to open his mouth. In a panic, you pulled a small hydrospanner from your pocket and threw it across the room at him, hitting him just below his shoulder. With an uproarious 'OW', Bolo grabbed his arm and looked at you stunned.

"Nothing." You side-eyed Bolo, squinting your not-so subtle point across the room, "nothing happened, isn't that right?"

"No," he repeated quickly, "n-nothing happened last week. Perfectly normal week." He affirmed and turned back around to face Ketch. He stared into his drink and the room fell silent once more.

Omega looked at you, jaw slackened. She hadn't expected you to get quite so, well, violent, in your decision to hide your emotions from Tech.

For the first time since you'd met her, you were actually glad to see Phee. An easy, long distraction is just what we need, you thought.

"So, Phee," you quickly turned to face her with a small smile, "what fool's errand were you running this time?"

And with that, question time about the previous week had expired. Phee launched into her latest bold tale, arms waiving in front of her, exaggerating each foe, each near death encounter and the bravery of her treasure hunter partner, Omega. You couldn't help but smile at that part. It was certainly a long play by play of everything that had happened during the time that they had not been around you.

As you trained all of your focus on Phee and her antics, you didn't notice Tech watching you from the pillar by the bar. His knee was bouncing absentmindedly as he rested his head on his first. He was studying you intently and unashamedly. Something certainly had happened whilst we were away, Tech mused to himself, and it was something that all of the women in the room seemed privy too. With that in mind, he decided that perhaps he would not wish to know. There was always something so terrifying about women in cahoots with one another.

With that, Tech stood, drink in hand and moved across the room to sit with Wrecker and Omega. Phee's voice was certainly less loud in that corner of the room. It was also dark enough that he could simply watch you, quietly studying the soft features of your face.

As things began to wind down for the evening, Omega had given you a gentle, knowing hug and headed out into the night with Hunter. Wrecker was snoring softly in the corner, his Lula under his arm. Guess he's spending the night snoring away in Cid's, you determined as you looked him. You went to grab your bag when the familiar voice came from behind you, causing you to jump slightly.

"May I walk you back to your domicile?" Tech asked, pulling you back to the reality of it all. He pushed his goggles back up his nose and softly cleared his throat. Those were the first words he had said to you all evening. Though you hadn't given him much chance to say anything else.

You opened your mouth, as if to protest but Tech beat you to it, "it is late, and we are both fully aware that this part of Ord Mantell is hardly safe at this time of night." You assumed this may have been Tech's way of saying he was concerned about you safety.

"Sure, thanks Tech," you smiled gratefully as he offered you his hand to jump down off the stool. Chivalrous too. Heat pooled in your stomach as you walked behind him out of the door and back up the steps outside Cid's establishment. You stepped out into the night together and you became overcome with that familiarity that settled between the two of you.

Neither of you said anything until you reached the corner of the street, well out of the ear shot of the others. Not that anybody would have been listening, really.

"I wanted to ask you about earlier this evening." Of course he did. "When you hid behind that wall." His finger lazily pointed towards the wall as you walked past it. He cleared his throat before continuing on, "I was going to discuss it with you earlier but something told me it wasn't the prudent moment to raise the issue."

"No, it wouldn't have been." You affirmed for him, he hadn't asked but you could guess that his statement was more question than statement.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine Tech." You managed to sneak a look at the clone, he was already looking at you and so your eyes danced together in confusion as you walked. You looked away, and sighed, you offered a simple explanation, "I was in a shame spiral. Omega sorta helped with it earlier. That's where we went."

"A shame spiral?" He repeated, clearly processing this phrase for the first time. "I am unfamiliar with that term."

"I would probably be more surprised if you knew it."

"And what would you be spiralling over?" He wondered aloud, slowing down to match your newly reduced speed. You were approaching your home now. Hopefully, you could sneak inside without having to explain too much.

"Phee," you muttered, "I was shame spiralling over my jealousy of Phee." You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling all of the air escaping your lungs. He didn't say another word and for that, you were so very, very glad.

However, the reason Tech was not querying you came down to one simple thing: he couldn't fathom a question nor a statement in his mind that would even begin to cover the insanity of the statement you had just made. There was no what, why, who or how that seemed to end in a plausible, logical solution. He was perplexed. Women, and their emotions, were clearly not his expertise. He had already known that. As you noticed his gaze falling forward with a slight squint, you could almost see the cogs turning in his head and in fear of the question finally falling from his lips, you decided to change the subject just enough to bring him back to Ord Mantell and out of the deep recesses of his mind. You questioned how much of the story Phee had told was true.

"Well, as is usual with Phee, certain details, including her own heroism, were greatly embellished, but I suppose for the most part, the story was correct."

That was oddly concise for Tech. He was still thing about what you had said.

"Well, it sounds like you had a wild week then," you chuckled and scratched at the back of your neck.

You'd reached the main door to the grubby looking block of flats you lived in. You had almost expected Tech to stop here and say goodnight. But he was still so wrapped up in the questions swimming through his mind that he seemed to follow you up three flights of stairs without even thinking about it and, as you finally reached your front door, he asked the question you had dreaded, "I do not understand. Why would you be jealous of Phee?"

As you unlocked your front door, you turned and sighed in his direction. His eyes began searching yours for any kind of logical explanation, but all he could find was fear, weariness and an uncomfortable uncertainty. None of those were things he wished to find in the eyes he considered to be the most beautiful in the galaxy. You leant into the door frame, crossing your arms over your chest and finally decided to simply say it, "because of how she is with you, Tech."

"That is absurd." That statement had sort of slipped off his tongue before he had given it any real thought or appraisal and boy, did he wish he had thought that one through. Before you could say anything further, justify anything further, you simply mumbled a 'yeah, well, goodnight Tech' and tapped the comm panel to close the door.

You rested your head against the door, convincing yourself that Tech would have walked away and your heart dropped. That had not exactly gone how you thought it would or even should have.

But then you could hear the muffled sound of Tech clearing his throat.

"Phee tells inconsistent stories. She talks, constantly, yet does not seem to actually anything of import. It's maddening," you smiled softly at that, "not to mention the fact we were in another life threatening situation as a result of her desire for treasure. She is often greedy, convoluted and she calls me brown eyes despite me reminding her that brown in the phenotypic eye colour of all clones. It is not distinct to me." You turned and rested your back against the door as he spoke. He began to talk through it all, through his thoughts of Phee, through their most recent exploit. You felt like you could be standing there listening to him talk about Phee for a long time. He seemed to letting loose a babble of information that had been hidden within his cool interior for so long.

Truthfully, Tech was terrified in this moment and that was why he was babbling. He wasn't even sure if you were still listening. You'd shut the door, almost onto his face.

Perhaps it was the notion that you weren't listening that was giving him the courage to carry on talking in this moment, "you have nothing to fear of Phee. Not one thing to be jealous of, cyar'ika." The final word dripped from his tongue like honey, so sweet and smooth that you were convinced you must have heard him incorrectly.

You said nothing. How could you? You'd just shut the front door to your home in his face and he was just talking at you. He hadn't said anything you didn't already know. Deep down you knew Tech didn't like Phee. That was why you had spiralled. You were being 100 per cent ridiculous, even now.

"Most importantly, she is not the person I-" You heard him clear his throat again. He was so afraid of what he needed to say to you, to make you understand. "She is not the person I think of in the early hours of the morning when the ship is silent, nor the person I think of in the gentle hue of the evening when I should be fixing the Marauder. You are maddening to me too."

You smiled again, turning back to rest your hand and forehead on the door. He was resting his forehead on the door too, simply to ensure that the softness of his voice carried through to you.

"I am maddened because I cannot shift you from my thoughts. Your smile, your stories and the fact that you always seem to listen to the information I try so hard to share with the others. It is as if you really care about what I have to say and that, that is not something I feel very often. Not even with my own brothers." There was a painful silence for a moment, Tech was listening for any sign that you were still listening to him.

"I will admit I did try to not think of you. But you are all of I want to think of." He ran his index finger down the centre of your door, almost longingly wishing you would open the door for him. "I think of what it would feel like to simply hold you, or kiss you. To be with you in every way my brain can even conceive. Please, cyar'ika, open the door."

And so, you did.

When you looked up at him, it was evident that he hadn't actually expected you to open the door. His right hand was gripping the top of the door frame above him, his weight resting lazily upon it. He smiled and comically lowered the finger he had been using to trace across your door.

He stood slightly and searched your eyes once more, "naturally, I have always credited myself on being of exceptional intelligence, due to my enhanced genetics." He looked deep into your eyes, searching for any sign that he should stop talking. He couldn't find anything but adoration and that began to startle him a little. "I am intelligent about everything, except you. Perhaps I would also extend that to include the female psyche generally in that category," you smirked at him, crossing your arms again, "of all the things that I had thought had harmed you or upset you this evening, I did not expect an interest," he tested the word in front you, to be sure he wasn't wrong, "in me, to be the reason. If I had known you felt that way about Phee, about me, then I would have -"

That was enough. He had said enough now.

Before he could continue talking, you grabbed him by his chest plate and pulled him through the threshold of your home. Guiding him by his armour, you moved Tech towards the grey arm chair closest to you. He was somehow still talking, though the sentences were now uncertain and broken. Your heart was beating so loud that you could no longer even hear what he was saying.

With an 'oof', Tech had collided with the chair, his knees buckling at the contact. His hands found your waist with a sweet uncertainty. He softly grabbed at the fabric of your dress, wishing he was not wearing his gloves. You deliberating lowered your face towards him and he froze. Unable to speak as he studied the beautiful features that were before him. You hair cascaded around your shoulders, gravity pulling it towards him as you straddled his narrow waist. You finally spoke, "I was jealous because was able to say the things to you that I wanted to say, to do the things the things that I wanted to do," you clarified and with one final smirk, you whispered "brown eyes."

You felt the groan build in his stomach as you said it. A blush had crept up his neck and over his cheeks at the statement. You simply sat and looked at him as his lips hung slightly open. The nickname hit him differently as it slipped from your lips, smooth and loving. Tasting of honey and home.

Slowly, but surely, you finally lowered your lips to his.

Almost instinctually, one of his hands raised to the side of your chin, guiding your lips to his. His lips were softer than you'd expected. You'd assumed the rugged clones would be just that - rugged. But, as you often were with Tech, you found yourself pleasantly surprised and you felt the force with which he kissed you.

There was a tenderness to his movement, as if he had waited for this as long as you had. As if he wanted the moment to continue on forever, just as you did.

You even enjoyed the sensation of his cool goggles against your cheekbones, sure to leave a little mark when you pull away. You simply enjoyed the taste of Tech, the way his lips seemed to meld so perfectly with yours.

As you pulled back from him for the first time, you could him smiling so genuinely and sweetly and, in that moment, you knew. You knew he would never look at Phee the way he was looking at you right now. You had stopped the cogs of Tech's overactive mind and in its place, left a lusty, cocky male, who simply wanted nothing more than to kiss you and hold you for the rest of his life.

He led your lips back towards yours by the hand at your chin and he tipped his head towards yours. You felt the arm around your waist tighten as your lips made contact. Without thinking, you found yourself grinding once upon his lap, gasping at the friction. He groaned into the kiss before pulling away.

"If I had but known..." he breathed as his head pulled back from yours, resting on the back of the sofa. His breath was heavy in his chest and he looked up at you with a soft smile.

"If you but known how much I wanted you..." you whispered back, as you rested your head against his shoulder. Your breath soft against his ear.

[snootlestheangel]

This post has me thinking about Simon Riley and his mum again, but also him and his brother. Just the Riley family in general, really. This may not be the most accurate in terms of the timeline from the comics and stuff but I don't care, I'm tired, I need this, please let me have this

*tagging @stuffireadandenjoy and @deeptrashwitch just cause ;)*

Simon who has spent his whole life being a shield for his little brother. Simon who has always been told to keep an eye out for Tommy. Simon who has always stepped in the way of his father's wrath for his brother.

Simon who, as he got older, started stepping in the way of their father to keep his mother safe. Simon who has always been self-sacrificing. It's just always been a part of who he is. His mother watched him grow just knowing this man will one day walk willingly into his grave if it means his family gets to know peace for once.

Once he became a teenager, he learned how to disassociate. He learned how to shut off that part of him that led to emotional outbursts like his father was so prone to. He learned how to express everything he felt with an almost robotic nature. He was just barely thirteen years old when he became bitter. Just barely a teen when he became so indifferent to his feelings and emotions.

But his mother had always called him her "gentle boy". She saw him become disassociated and detached from the fatally human side of himself. She saw him take every hit with the same blank expression. She saw his amber eyes become haunted.

But she knew the truth. She knew he did this all to protect them. To protect Tommy. To protect her. His mother. He never should have gotten to that point. She saw that he was not "sweet" like Tommy. Tommy would tell her he loved her, would bring her little flowers he found on his way home.

Simon never did.

But Simon would quietly slip into the bathroom after one of his father's rampages with a wet towel and a glass of ice water. He wouldn't say a word as he gently dabbed at his mother's cuts. He would quietly whisper to her to drink the water to calm herself. She would watch as he would quietly pick up all the pieces of broken glass, all the overturned furniture. She'd watch as he'd gently tuck his brother into bed before crawling into his.

And so, his mum knew he was "gentle". That despite his newfound bitterness and detached manner, he was still her "gentle Simon".

But she also saw the change in him when he came home from the military. When he came home and quite literally threw the monster out of their home. When he helped her pack all her stuff and move across the city. She watched him as she had all those years; quietly picking up the pieces with a low voice and gentle hands. So far unlike his father, so far detached from the man she once claimed to love.

But Simon didn't stop there. Because he always took care of his mum and brother. Never just one or the other, always both.

And she watched him drag his brother into rehab, watched him stay by Tommy's side as he got clean. She watched Simon take on so many jobs, so many responsibilities all in the name of gently picking up the pieces and putting their broken family back together.

Mum's gentle giant.

So when she saw him in that hospital bed, nearly unrecognizable from the layers of bandages and the swollen bruises, the dark circles and bloodshot look of his eyes, it nearly broke her.

Nearly.

But when she looked into his eyes, his soft brown eyes, she knew she couldn't break. That for the first time in a long time, Simon was crying.

Her gentle giant, her little soldier, her guardian, in tears and lying almost dead in a hospital bed.

The doctor had told her he's going to struggle to speak for a while until the Glasgow smile heals. But they also told her he would have a hard time writing and moving his arms with all the damage from the numerous deep gashes in his arms and chest. So she had expected to see him in his usual disassociated state, expected to look into his eyes only to realize her Simon never came home.

But here she was, standing and shaking as she watches her fierce son break. But here she is, listening to his hoarse, broken voice do its best to call for "Mum".

And so she sat at his side for as long as he was awake, and even stayed to watch him sleep. To be his mother. To keep him safe and cared for like she should have been doing for all those years. Yet all those years, it had been the reverse.

She hated herself, but knew Simon would fight tooth and nail to prove her wrong. To prove that she was a good mother, that she had done her best in the circumstances she had been trapped in. Simon who would argue she was the best mother he could ever ask for because she had always been there. Had stayed and fought every day for him and his brother. Because she was always there to hold him when he needed it most.

Simon's recovery was a bitch to get through. He struggled with letting Tommy, Beth, and his mum take care of him. He had spent what felt like his whole life taking care of them, providing and fighting. And now he was practically bed-ridden, borderline useless as he healed.

Some days were easier than others. And some days Simon struggled to communicate what he needed, what he was feeling. And he would get frustrated, which would cause flare-ups of pain, which would make him angry. But he hated getting angry, hated the way he would huff and gesture when he couldn't find the words. He knew it was frustrating for his family; they shouldn't have to deal with this.

Simon expected pity. But he never got it.

Instead he got his mum soothing him with soft whispers and gentle hands. He got his mum quietly begging him to let her take care of him like she's supposed to; she's still his mum after all.

Instead he got Tommy being the strong one. Instead he got his little brother taking the time to pay Simon back for all those years of being the tough one.

His mother couldn't look at him without feeling guilty. Without knowing he had suffered and there was nothing she could do to magically fix it all, and it hurt. Here was her gentle, self-sacrificing boy laying here in pain and so dependent on her.

But his brother looked at him like he hung the stars. To Tommy, Simon was a hero. To Tommy, Simon was the one that literally shielded him from being beaten by their own father. Simon was the one that quite literally found him near death in a drug house and dragged him out and to rehab.

To Tommy, here was a man that should be dead and buried. Yet here he was. Breathing, bleeding. To Tommy, this was something Simon needed. Simon needed a point where he was cared for, to be repaid for all the things he had done for him and Mum.

The Riley boys have never been ones for tears, especially Simon. In fact, prior to all of this mess, Tommy could count on one hand all the times he had seen his older brother cry.

But now, in so much pain, physically and emotionally, mentally drained and tortured outside of their understanding, Simon was prone to tears. And Tommy could see this hurt Simon, made him uncomfortable and made the war he waged with himself so much worse. But to Tommy, he didn't mind. To Tommy, this was just proof that under all that bitterness, all the shoved down and bottled up emotions, his savior brother was still human.

There were only a few times Tommy cried during Simon's recovery. The first being when he saw Simon in the hospital, bandaged head held between their mother's soft hands.

The second was one Simon had gotten up and made himself a cup of tea and sat back down without any assistance, without showing any sign of unbearable pain or tearing any stitches.

The third was when they were enjoying a quiet Sunday evening as a family. They had Scooby-Doo on for Joseph, it being one of the toddler's favorite shows for some reason Tommy and Beth couldn't quite figure out. The episode playing had the gang running from a mummy, and Tommy could see the clear discomfort on his brother's still bandaged face as the monster appeared on the screen. Tommy could see tears well up in Simon's eyes as Joseph looked back at him from his seat on the floor, pointing at the screen.

Beth hadn't noticed the turmoil Simon was experiencing, and had explained that the creature was a mummy and the monster. Joseph's little face turned into a pout as he stood up and walked over to where his uncle was laying on the couch, unable to move much due to being sore from physical therapy. And Joseph reached out with his little hands and put them gently on his uncle's face.

"But he not monster." And at that moment, Beth and Tommy understood what the little tyke was trying to say: that Uncle Simon looks like the character on the screen, and that he didn't think a mummy was all that scary.

And to Simon, the pure innocent love from his nephew was all he needed. He motioned to Joseph to sit with him, and soon the two had fallen asleep together on the couch, Simon's arm wrapped around his nephew and his head resting on the little boy's.

That made Tommy cry hard enough he needed to step outside for some fresh air. He cried because there was his brother he shouldn't have anymore (Simon should be dead) with a son he never should have had (Tommy should have died in that drug house).

But they were both there, all of them alive and together, because Simon Riley was too stubborn, to committed to his family to let any of them die without first knowing what real love felt like.

So as much as Mum Riley would always call Simon her gentle giant, there would be Tommy calling him a stubborn bastard.

[aclowntiny]

Puppy Love- Yunho x Female!Barista!Reader

I haven't forgotten about all my coffee shop stories 😁😁😁 Yunho in his ‘you like jazz?’ era

Word Count: 3536 | Coffee Shop, Fluff | Warnings: too dang fluffy 😝

Yunho’s dream had finally come true. A dog café had opened up within walking distance of work. What a time to be alive! What a lucky walk of the streets on his break, unsure how to spend his rare free time once he had it. Using it for an activity seemed simultaneously gratifying and overwhelming. Time to burn some energy off with some very good boys and girls instead! Some caffeine might also reverse-jitter him back into productivity…or at least into the right headspace to squeeze in an episode of that show he needed to finish.

Beneath an awning of striped lime green and white awaited the door to Leash Love Latte, the lovely windowed building decorated with paint-on art of joyous pups of all breeds, two of which held mugs and one of which was about to devour a bone-topped cupcake. Yunho couldn't help but smile as his eyes scanned the glass, jumping a bit at the noise when he opened the door, but the startlement easily fell into a laugh as he opened the security door once the front one was closed and was met with a barrage of dogs.

"Oh, hi," he giggled as one little papillon practically climbed up his leg, bending down to scoop her up into his arms. Flipping her collar tag, he saw it read 눈. A name meaning Snow made sense- she was a ball of pure white fluff after all.

Carrying her up to the counter, Yunho was met with the sight of an extremely nimble barista practically skating across the café floor to slide a pastry onto the counter and call out its owner’s name, then turn on her heels to catch a drink from the older man who held it out to her and repeat the process. Once that was done, she twirled around to face the counter.

“Sorry about that, just had an order to finish up,” she paused, taking a couple breaths and getting her hair back into place, smile never leaving her face, “oh, Nunie, are you making friends?” Her gaze had dropped to the sweet pup in Yunho’s arms, the nickname and her evident familiarity with the café dogs warming his heart.

“Yep," he agreed with a chuckle, holding her up a bit higher with fatherly pride despite their very recent meeting, "I think she'd have made a ladder of me if she could."

"Well, you are pretty tall," the girl joked.

"I guess that's true! So, what do you recommend here?"

She grinned. "Dog or drink?"

"Drink," Yunho responded, "I don't think I'll get away with any cheating today."

"How does a peanut butter mocha sound?"

"Great," he replied, "I've never had one before!"

Plucking a solid pink, paw-print-dotted mug from some unseen counter alcove, the barista grinned. "It's sort of my specialty."

"She's always trying to hock those!" The older man called out from deeper in the kitchen, offering a devilish grin.

"Hey! At least I have a specialty!" She called back, smiling when he shouted that she was a better barista than him and sliding the mug down the slick metal counter surface before turning back to Yunho. "Sorry, that's my uncle. He's a bit of a jokester. Your name?”

"Yunho. And that's ok. I can see how well you guys get along. So this is a family business, then?"

"Yep," she nodded, "everything I do, I try to do with my family."

Something about those simple words touched Yunho's heart, throwing its beat off even as he lowered himself into a bench, stroking his snowy new friend and laughing as a brown and white Jack Russel terrier and a little grey mutt with a folded ear scrambled up to fill his lap all the way. His gaze darted between them and the young lady behind the counter as she operated all the kitchenware with focused eyes and lightly smiling lips.

This place really was heaven.

~

"Here you go!"

Yunho's attention snapped up from the mutt, Sammy, to meet the eyes of the girl. He hadn't really paid attention to the color of them before, but the lime-and-pink shaded light dangling above his table must have somehow brought it out as she set his mug in front of him a respectable distance from the squirming dogs piled upon his lap.

"What was your name again?" Yunho blurted out before he could help it.

"(y/n)."

"(y/n)," he repeated with a smile, "wonderful. I just felt like I needed to have a name to go with the face."

Her eyes remained on him, though the smile on her face did not fade. Sammy licked at her sleeve, which only made it grow wider, her nose crinkling a bit. A wave of awkwardness crashed over Yunho.

"So, (y/n), you must really like peanut butter." That sounded much better in his head.

She just giggled. “I love it! I was eating a peanut butter cup when I got the idea for the drink.”

“That’s so cool! I have a friend who cooks and that seems hard, let alone designing something new, like I can’t even imagine.”

(y/n) waved a hand before reaching it back down to pet a fluffy spotted Australian shepherd that ran by her feet. “Oh, I bet you could come up with something,” she told him with a smile.

Yunho racked his brain, but beneath the tantalizing chocolate-peanut-butter-coffee-with-a-hint-of-espresso smell, the light of that obnoxiously cute lamp, the warm, wiggling puppy pile on his lap, and the faint, anticipatory flutter of the girl’s eyelashes, not much was floating up coherently. “I can’t think of anything that would be good in coffee,” he finally admitted.

“What about something that would be bad in coffee?”

“All my brain was giving me was fruit loops, so I’d say that.”

(y/n) gave a humored wince. “Ooh, yeah. Though that would make a good milk latte or shake! I could totally work with that!” And with that, she made another of her skate-like drifts across the shop, dodging three dogs darting at her feet as she fell back behind the counter, pulling out a couple appliances and taking notes like a mad scientist.

Well, that wasn’t too bad a response to fruit loops of all things. Patting Sammy, Yunho pulled his steaming mug to his lips, barely feeling the cup’s heat above that in his own sheepish cheeks.

~

A few days after his Leash Love Latte trip, Yunho was out for a walk to clear his head after a very early morning of choreography practice, having rinsed himself off and wanted nothing more than to get out into the sun and breeze, practically melting the industrial lighting out of his skin. Cleansing the sweat off had only been step one.

Veering off the paved walking trail, Yunho crossed over the inclination of a grassy green hill, wandering over the great emerald expanse and dodging the occasional frisbee. Ducking under one that was thrown high enough, even.

The small amount of skin exposed by his t-shirt warmed pleasantly in the moderate day's air as he passed an area surrounded by metal gating that bore a few tied-on signs. Within it, dogs of varying sizes tore across the grass, played tug-of-war, and ran to their owners with new friends in tow. As he got closer, he noticed that one of those owners had a haircut that looked quite familiar, a smile Yunho felt like he’d just been graced with.

It was (y/n)! Carefully undoing the safety gate with a deft motion of his fingers, he lifted the release and entered, immediately dodging dogs as he ran a hand through his hair hoping he’d straightened it. His other hand was already getting thoroughly sniffed, a few licks coming to it before he reclaimed it, giving a bulldog and a border collie some pats as he milled through the park. A mutt- maybe half terrier- ran up to him snuffling with a squeaky toy in its jaws, so Yunho threw it, laughing as it turned into a little spotted streak of lightning. Hopefully its owner was young. And then, turning on his heels, he faced you.

“Oh, hey, (y/n), right?” He leaned forward, resting a hand as casually as he could atop the bench a few feet from him, mock-guessing your name like it hadn’t made a few runs through his head of late. “Didn’t see you there. I’m-”

“Yunho from the café. Fruit loops guy.”

Fruit loops guy. “Yep, that’s me.” He put a hand to his chest. “Fruit loops guy.”

“I’ve been tinkering around with stuff and that idea is something that we might be adding to the menu if my uncle lets me!” She added, grinning as a pup Yunho recognized as Sammy ran up to her, leaning into her offered pets.

“Really? That’s great!”

“Yeah! Should I name it after you?”

“The Yunho? Might confuse some people-”

(y/n) chuckled, wrapping her arms around Sammy to pull him onto her lap. “Yunho, I was kidding.”

“Oh, right, yeah, I knew that. So, uh, taking Sammy to the dog park?”

“Yep,” she nodded, smiling, “I try to take all the adoptables out on an alternating schedule.”

“Oh,” Yunho tilted his head in thought, “the Leash Love Latte dogs are for adoption?”

“Indeed they are. The goal is people live them so much they want to take them home!”

“Guess then they’d really need a doggy bag,” he quipped.

(y/n)’s eyes widened as she burst out with a laugh. “Ok, that’s so perfect, mind if I steal that?”

“Be my guest.”

“I’ll try my best to credit you where I can. Hey, wanna play frisbee with Sammy? It’s practically as big as him, but he loves it.”

Was there even a question? “Of course! Come on, Sammy, let’s go!”

And with that, they both pushed off their respective bench seat and lean, jogging deeper into the park’s grass and dodging a fire hydrant in the ground as they took turns tossing the blue plastic disc (y/n) had ready in her backpack.

~

“Hey, remember the guy who inspired my fruit loops latte?” You called back into the kitchen as you refilled the coffee bean jars up front, dim evening lights of closing time filing Leash Love Latte.

“Tall fellow, right?” You uncle questioned in response.

"Yeah," you nodded, "him. If he comes back, I'm going to get him in the kitchen."

"In the kitchen?" Your uncle's voice raised both in incredulity and response to some barks from your café companions. "I thought you liked him."

"Oh, geez!" Plucking a not-so-wet grey washcloth from your counter, you lobbed it at your uncle and his jokes. "I do. You think I'd let any loser with a dazzling smile into my laboratory?"

The washcloth connected with your uncle's shoulder, breaking his face into a grin as he shook it into his hand and started wiping the kitchen surface with it. "Ugh, save the sappy crap for him, huh? What are you even going to make him do? A day of free labor?"

"No," you giggled, leaning on the shining metal of your counterspace, "I think he has better ideas than he gives himself credit for. I'm just going to let him try making whatever he wants."

"As long as you guys clean up after yourselves," your uncle teases you, giving you a fond smile.

"Of course we will," you reply with a joyous look of your own, anticipation coursing through you as you imagined all the things you could come up with on your quest for a new menu item...and maybe something else new for you.

~

"Get in the kitchen with you? Me?" Yunho looked at you with eyes wide, holding little Nun a bit tighter in his hands in startlement as if you'd suggested he set his pants on fire.

"Well, I wasn't exactly asking your invisible twin brother there," you teased, clicking the pen in your hand open, then closed again, as you glanced over his shoulder.

He turned his head that way too like there'd suddenly be someone there. There obviously was not. "Alright, point taken. You liked the cereal lattes that much, huh?"

That wasn't what I liked most, you wanted to say. You leaned a bit further out from behind the register. "Something like that. I think it would be fun! Don't you? We don't have to make something good, that'll just be a bonus!"

Yunho's smile returned as yours spread out, and he bent over and gently placed the little fluffball he'd been holding back on the floor, where she stood at his feet, sniffing Cherry, a black chihuahua. "I don't think it'll be fun, (y/n)..."

Your expression stiffened a bit, eyebrows raising to urge his trailed-off sentence on.

"I know it will be! Let's do it! As long as you're allowed to do this, of course."

And then you were smiling again, heart beating in anticipation. You were going to get this dog-loving man and his silly innocent brain in your life no matter what it took.

"Cleared with the boss man and all. Let's make something out of this dead workday!"

Yunho laughed at that, accepting the hand you held out, beckoning him into the sacred space behind the counter, aka your drink and treat lab.

"So," you grinned, folding both your hands under your chin, "wanna make a drink or bake something?"

"Why don't we bake?" Yunho replies, gaze breaking from yours in thought. "Hmm, what's a good dessert to go with a drink? Shortcake?"

"Like strawberry shortcake?"

"Yeah, but why is shortcake always strawberry? Why can't it be any other fruit?"

You shrugged, feeling your expression smugly egg him on. "Why can't it? What do you have in mind?"

"Have you ever seen those candied melons? What about melon shortcake? I bet no one's done that before," Yunho answered before pausing for a couple ticks of Leash Love Latte's dangly-tail dog-in-a-teacup wall clock, "or is that gross?"

Crossing further into the kitchen, you pulled open a silver cabinet and turned back to him. "Only one way to find out."

He shuffled into the kitchen beside you, bouncing on his heels. “Do you have a shortcake recipe?”

“I do indeed,” you said with a grin, taking an apron off the peg on the kitchen wall and handing it his way.

You set to work prepping and measuring the wet ingredients while Yunho took on the dry, the most prominent of which was the flour. Shortcake, you reminded him, wasn’t as sweet as a regular cake, so that seemingly small amount of sugar was in fact correct.

It all went nearly without a hitch, only a small chunk of butter plopping onto the silvery counter, which you quickly twirled around to wipe squeaky clean again. Yunho was doing great at sifting everything together, almost as if he’d done it before.

Well, until the last scoop of flour, that is. The last one hung just wrong, dropping from the measuring cup in Yunho’s hand and sliding down the edge of the mesh strainer, bursting in a cloud of curling pure white dust upon the counter, his apron, and even on the side of your pant leg.

"Oh my gosh, (y/n), I'm so sorry!" Yunho immediately exclaimed, holding his hands out like he didn't trust them anymore.

"Don't worry about it," you replied with a smile and a flippant gesture, "it won't be the first or the last time that happens in here. Besides, in Hallmark movies all things like this do is start a cheeky flour fight."

Yunho glanced down helplessly at his apron and the counter. "Wouldn't that just make it worse?"

"Oh, absolutely," you nod, "but if you just twirl it off your apron, you'll get a pretty cloud effect."

Expectation? A little shimmy. Reality? Yunho executing a perfect showman's leaping twirl, the move indeed enhanced by a puff surrounding him as the powder shook off of him and drifted down to the kitchen tile.

You might've been gaping, but it quickly faded into a smile as you drifted past him in search of a rolling pin. "Alright, so you're, like, an expert dancer, that's totally normal and not extremely cool."

"Oh, I'm no expert. I-I just dance for a living," he replied with a shy grin and darting gaze.

"I hate to break this to you," you leaned on the counter in front of him, rolling pin in hand and awe on your face, "but that makes you an expert. Certainly more than me. You should be there one of the many times I forget a step of the macarena."

Yunho's hands started drifting around in the general airspace above his shoulders, head, and hips. "Which part?"

All you could do was giggle and hold the rolling pin up in your hand, head shaking. "Have you ever kneaded and rolled dough before?" He had good dough hands. Certainly more proportional to the dough than yours!

~

"We did it, (y/n)! We made shortcake!" Practically floating above the tile, Yunho high-fived you after you set the tray down.

While your creation baked, the two of you had ditched your aprons and crossed the threshold back into adoptable territory to absolutely ruin all your kitchen-sanitary hands on the hurricane of dogs that surged after you, leaping into your arms like the sweetest of crests crashing onto your jean-clad knees.

This time you took Nun and Yunho had Mickey the Australian shepherd, who plopped right down on the café tile with his head in Yunho's now-seated lap. You held your fluffy ball of wonder close to your chest and she practically melted in, little black boba eyes fluttering contentedly shut.

Both of you whined how it was torture and apologized to the dogs as if it was a coordinated act as you waved and backed into the kitchen with four remorseful eyes on the adoptable crowd, and that was how the shortcake was procured.

Candying the watermelon went off without a hitch. Well, mostly. While a welcome strength boost to cut the honeydews, Yunho had you half giggling, half protectively extending an arm as he yelped at the bubbling sugar boiling in the pot. For that, you bid him mix the cream while you got the fruit ready.

More time with the adoptables as the candy set, and then you were stacking cake, cream, and shining, syrupy melon chunks into a light yellow-and-green treat topped with some melon balls and classic rosettes.

"It's beautiful," you congratulated Yunho with a wide smile.

"Better than the fruit loop latte idea?"

You just nodded as the sound of your business's door closing rang our behind you. "And here's our proof coming!" You clapped, rushing out of the kitchen in the bouncing dance of a barista on a mission. "Uncle, will you try our dessert please? Yunho and I worked really hard on it," you plead as you dragged your amused uncle into your workspace, one arm linked with his and the other gesturing with a flourish toward the lovely shortcake and your lovely fellow baker, who immediately bent his legs and struck an introductory pose at it himself.

"I can tell. This looks great, you two," your uncle told you, pride clear in his voice as much as on his face as he ruffled your hair with his free hand.

Wiggling gently out of your grip, he accepted the proffered fork from Yunho and reached over to dig into the plated treat you'd decorated on the counter, which of course you'd wiped down before he could see the mess you made. Didn't hurt to butter up the person trying your new innovation, right?

Your uncle's eyebrows shot up the moment the forkful of your shortcake entered his mouth, both you and Yunho leaping up as if watching the pinnacle of a photo-finish race.

"Well, how is it?" You burst out, practically wiggling under the suspense.

"Yes, sir," Yunho added, straightening the apron he'd put back on, "is it good enough to go on the menu?"

"It's very good, son," your uncle began, eliciting a loud cheer from you two and a resonant, stingingly strong high-five of elation to boot.

"But," he added, both of you inhaling at his next words, eyes not even leaving him when an audible, surely adorable play-wrestle broke out among the adoptables, "if you want this on the menu, there's one condition."

"Wh- what's that? Er, sir?" Yunho stiffened under your uncle's serious gaze.

Short-lived as it was; the expression soon melted into your beloved joker's smile of mischief. "You have to take my niece on a date."

"Uncle, I-" You began to protest, heat rising to your cheeks faster than any oven or milk steamer could preheat.

"Yes, sir," Yunho nodded, sparing you a quick glance and a small wave as if he'd forgotten you were there, "that's a much greater reward than the menu spot."

His smile turned almost into something you'd see on a lovesick cartoon, as if your heart hadn't flipped hard enough in the past few minutes or even from the first time he walked in and you saw him being gentle with the adoptables.

What could you say? Guess it was puppy love.

[bramble-mouse]

A giant is in a sticky situation and they have to rely on there tiny friend to help them get out, or it’s the other way, Or both!

My immediate thought: glue trap. I may use the prompt again where a giant needs a hand!

Mice were pests- at least that was how the beans viewed them. They were horrid little things that stole food, left droppings in the pantry and bit holes in bags. But really, mice were actually very lovely creatures. At least Plumeria Mossdew thought as much. They shared many of the same characteristics that borrowers had- large ears, fur, cute tails, claws. Rats could be frightening (though some were sweet when hand-reared from pups), brown spiders were nightmarish and owls were a worst case scenario for a borrower, especially since she lived alone- out in the garden, no less. Food and water were easily found, her little twig cabin tucked away on the property boundary. Yes, there as much to be found out in this vast wilderness of a bean's yard, but sometimes Plumeria had to venture inside the house and find what she could not come by outside. Flour, fabric, buttons, needles, thread, spices- all manner of wonders Plumeria felt it was worth the danger to grab. Normally, she had no problem. The elderly bean that lived there napped often or contented herself listening to old jazz tunes on the radio while she crocheted. Sometimes, Plumeria paused to watch her work, appreciating the dedicating in those weathered, patient fingers. But as time passed, the old granny's fingers grew shakier, her face thinner. One day, after Plumeria had been gone for a food few months, the granny was no where to be seen. She feared the worst, felt a pit settle into her stomach when she found a crochet hook put away, not a bit of yarn in sight.

Plumeria cried that night and decided to stay in the house. After all, she'd never once seen a soul visit the old lady as long as they'd both lived here. She would miss the bean, her quiet contentment with a simple life, a friend who Plumeria doubted ever knew she existed. Staying proved a poor choice. Because the following day hen Plumeria decided to take a few more things out of the kitchen and say hello to the little mouse family living in the walls, she fell prey to more than prying eyes. A pest. Was this how so many mice and rats died? Plumeria lay immobile, eyes red and puffy from sobbing all night and her round glasses askew on her face. A glue trap. Yes, she'd heard of them, of the horrific manner in which sweet rodents died on them. Would Plumeria be the first borrower to meet her end here, unable to move as she starved to death? The fear and exhaustion lasted the night until she succumbed to exhaustion.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" A voice boomed. It was masculine in nature.

Plumeria's eyes cracked open, half-sealed by dried tears. The ground shook. A bean. "Of course I'm pissed! Glue traps are inhumane! I don't fucking care if there are mice, you could have asked me first!" The voice continued to shout. Plumeria's head swam. Should she have been afraid? Or perhaps her struggling and crying through the night had deprived her of that ability now. All she could see was the far away cieling, cobwebs clinging to the corner above her, a little overhanging of countertop half obscuring any further sights.

She thought to turn her head but the glue trap impeded much movement. Still, Plumeria mustered some strength and found a bean in a baggy sweatshirt and jeans stooped over collecting another glue trap off the ground, his other hand holding a phone to his ear. At least...Plumeria assumed it was a phone. It wasn't like the old woman's, a blocky thing that sat in a reciever. This bean's was flatter, with a colourful case covered in illustrations of insects. "Gran left me this house. In her will. Look at the fucking will. I don't want you in here again if you're gonna do shit like this." The bean growled in the reciever and stood up, crunching the glue trap in his hand. He realized his error a moment later when he swore under his breath and tried to shake the trap. It was stuck to his hand. He groaned. "I have to go. I'm changing the locks, and you're not getting this fucking house from me to demolish. I don't fucking care how much gran's land will fetch you, you never even called her. Not even once, and you were in town." The bean paused. Whoever was on the other end of the line had plenty to say because the bean had to draw in a deep breath. "Gran's barely been dead a few days, you scummy fuck. We're done." The bean hung up, pocketed his phone and ran his fingers through a thicket of curly black hair. "Fucking christ..." He exhaled, shaking his glue-trapped hand again.

Anger. No, not just anger but anger at the treatment of pests- of creatures like the lovely mice in the wall, like Plumeria. The impulse grew, a new hope and desperation blooming in the borrower's chest. It went against everything her late parents had taught her, to reveal yourself to a bean but at the end of the day, this bean would either find her now or find her desiccated corpse moldering on this trap.

"...H....Help." Plumeria's fluttering voice rasped as loud as she could manage. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and she summoned her courage, her energy and tried again, loud as she could. "H...Help me...P...Please..." She closed her eyes, tired from even that small effort. She was so hungry, so thirsty, so tired. Had she only been there only night, stuck to the trap or had it been longer? Plumeria wasn't certain. But when the ground tremored again with bean footsteps and a shadow fell over the trapped borrower, she managed to open her eyes again, beady and red. And full of a panicked face, freckled and green eyed, marked with a septum ring.

"....Holy fuck." The bean stammered, the words like vomit as he fell to his knees. It felt like an earthquake. "I'm hallucinating, I'm..." Plumeria's gaze stared up, pleading. Would he walk away, assuming she wasn't real? Was she about to die after all? The bean let out a humourless chuckle and got to his feet. He crossed the kitchen, opened a cabinet and took a bottle of something out. He took a washcloth from beside the sink, then crouched down in front of her again. The bean opened the bottle and when the neck hovered over top of her, Plumeria managed a weak whimper. "Look, I..." The bean hesitated. "It's olive oil, and...I'm just gonna use a little bit to help you get free, alright? And...if I'm crazy and you're not real then I guess I'm just pouring olive oil on an empty glue trap." Plumeria drew in a deep, shaking breath. She said nothing and closed her eyes. Oil cascaded thickly over her lower half. The bean was being slow about this, methodical, as if he'd done this many, many times. Consciousness was difficult, and so Plumeria flitted in and out, only half aware of the gentle strokes of a cloth, of ginger pulling on her lips to get her free. This would be over the next time Plumeria woke, she decided. She would be free or she would be dead, succumb to the stress of it all, of a body strained to its limits.

Author's Notes: I'm gonna be continuing this so no, Plumeria has not succumbed to a glue trap! It might be a bit clunky but I still wrote something! Thank you again for a fun prompt anon :D

[hotreadingwitch]

James x Reader - Concern

Content Warnings/Kinks: praise kink, degradation, mirror kink, hickeys, breast play, cum swallowing, light hair pulling, choking, light orgasm control, oral sex, unprotected sex

Concern

Y/n sped to the bathroom off of the common room, pressing herself up against the wall, trying to calm down. Not even a minute passed before her crush James walked into the small room, bursting through the door. 

"Are you okay?" He asked, concern lining his face. 

"Fine," she said, before blushing, "Just needed to cool down" 

"Y/n" James came toward her as he spoke her name, like a whispered secret. 

"James" she breathed back. 

The energy in the room shifted, the air around them feeling heavier than it had just a second ago. Soon, he was in front of her, their faces inches apart.

"James," she said again, staring into his round, brown eyes. 

"Y/n-" he started, his hands making their way to her waist, not even finishing his sentence. 

She sighed aloud as James leaned down, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek, then on her jaw, then on her neck. 

"James" she whispered his name again. 

"You know I want you so bad" he groaned between kisses, nipping on her ear. 

"I want you too" she replied, pulling him up so she could look into his eyes, "I really do"

James didn't waste any time, immediately crashing his lips down onto hers. She parted them quickly, allowing for his tongue to slip between hers. Their kisses were rushed and passionate and absolutely perfect. 

Y/n pulled up for a breath, caressing the side of James's face with one hand, her eyes exploring every one of his facial features.

"What are you looking at?" James chuckled, his brows knitting together in concern. 

"Just you" she breathed, "Just you"

They kissed again and again and again until their mouths fell into a perfect pattern. He'd press his mouth to hers, she'd nip his bottom lip. 

"I can't stop thinking about what that pretty pussy would taste like on my tongue..." he said breathily, breaking away from her, his voice low. 

"Would you like to find out?" She returned, smiling when his head snapped up, his eyes meeting her lustful gaze. 

James nodded, his gaze stormy as he lowered himself to his knees in front of her, pushing her up onto the counter. His strength was enough to turn Y/n on. 

"You're sure?" He questioned, confirming her desires. 

She nodded. 

"I'm going to need you to use your words for me love" he commanded gently. 

"Yes," she whimpered, her voice just above a whisper.

James complied, sliding his fingers up her legs until he reached the edge of her underwear, cotton with lace trim, beneath her school uniform miniskirt. He pulled them down in one quick motion, causing her to shiver. James then lifted her skirt, burying himself under the fabric, the cold metal of his glasses cooling her scorching hot skin as he sucked roughly on her inner thigh, leaving a purple mark behind. 

"James" she sighed with pleasure.

He then began, caressing her pussy gently and flicking her clit with a single finger. Her body squirmed under his touch, her stomach tensing as he teased her. She said his name again, this time whining for more attention. He chuckled before really starting, licking up and down her folds and the area surrounding her clit, the sensitivity causing her to grind her hips up and down, following the rhythm of his tongue. The feeling on her clit rose up all the way into her stomach, causing her insides to tense even more in anticipation. 

As he licked at her clit he slid a finger up and down her slit, wetting it with her juices before slipping it into her tight hole, making him groan. The feeling of her tightening around just his finger made his cock harden. 

"Such a perfect pussy Y/n" he whispered, looking up at her. 

As she adjusted to his fingers, which were pumping in and out of her pussy, he kissed along her lower stomach and inner thighs, teasing her skin with a trail of hickeys. When he did return to her clit, he became more rough, desperate to please her. He sucked on the sensitive area while curling his finger inside her. 

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. Her body tensed as she came, the feeling exploding within her.

"Oh James" she moaned, her head tilting back and her mouth falling open in the shape of an "o". 

When she had finally relaxed he rose up and kissed her right on the mouth, her juices still the perfect mix of sour and salty on his tongue. 

"Mm," he groaned as she tangled her tongue with his, gripping both his arms as they made out. 

She chuckled, placing one last peck on his reddened lips before sliding off the edge of the counter and onto her knees in front of him, eager to please him as he had just pleased her. She looked up at him expectantly and soon James was eagerly undoing the zipper of his trousers. 

"Fuck Y/n" he groaned, looking down at her, her pillowy lips pouting slightly as she waited for him to take out his cock. 

When he finally did it was almost comical how her eyes widened, taking in his size. 

"Do you want me to suck you off?" She questioned, her tone wavering slightly, feigning innocence. 

"Merlin yes" he sighed, his cock straining. 

She nodded before beginning, placing a soft kiss on his tip, making him groan. She licked up and down his shaft, wetting his entire cock before sucking it into her mouth. His eyes quivered, rolling back a little as she hollowed her cheeks, creating suction around him, slowly slurping up to his tip. 

"Is that good?" She asked, stopping for a second. 

He wound his veiny hands in her hair, gripping it tightly, pulling her head back slightly. 

"Fuck yes love" he practically whimpered, "You're doing so good" 

He then guided her back onto his cock and she let him move her head up and down his shaft. Using her hands, she added to his pleasure, twisting her wrists in fast, purposeful motions, going up and down in time with her wet mouth. 

"Merlin, don't look at me like that" he groaned, his eyes darkening with lust at the sight of her looking up innocently at him, her reddened lips wrapped around his thick cock, "If you keep sucking me off like this I'm gonna cum in that pretty little mouth of yours"

"You don't want that?" She questioned, quirking her head. 

He pulled her up off of her knees without a word, pushing her front up against the sink, looking at her in the mirror before whispering in her ear: 

"When I cum love, I'm gonna cum in you" 

She nodded obediently, staring back at him, trying to convey how much she wanted to feel him deep inside her. 

"Put it in" she begged, arching her back so he could have easier access. 

James ran his hands up her front, unbuttoning her blouse so that her breasts were exposed. He gripped one and then the other, massaging them until her nipples hardened under the flimsy lace of her bra. He then slid his hands up further, curling them around her neck, causing her to gasp. 

"Such a pretty little slut" he growled dominantly, teasing her. 

"Put it in" she begged, even louder this time, "James, please" 

"So desperate for me, eh love?" He chuckled as he lined himself up with her hole. 

She placed her hand on the mirror, steadying herself for what was to come. 

He slid his veiny cock into her slightly, his tip wet with a mixture of his pre-cum and her wetness. 

"Mm," she whimpered, egging him on. 

James then thrust into her, touching her g-spot deep within her almost immediately. 

"Fuck" he groaned at the feeling of her wrapped tightly around him. 

Once she'd adjusted to his size he began to pump in and out of her tight hole, setting a fast pace that pleased her immensely. She quickly felt her body relaxing into the feeling of him inside her and soon butterflies filled her lower stomach causing her to sigh, moaning his name again and again. 

"You look so pretty like that love, so pretty taking my cock like a good little slut" he cooed without breaking eye contact with her through the mirror. 

She whined in response, arching her back before sucking him in, her body physically begging for him to thrust deeper. As if he knew exactly what her body needed, James slicked his fingers with his spit and then wrapped his arm around her front as he continued to thrust in and out of her, beginning to please her clit. 

"Shit" she cursed, groaning at the feeling of both her hole and her clit being pleased. 

Y/n looked at herself in the mirror, admiring her body as her tits bounced up and down in time with James's perfect thrusts. She took in his red, puffy lips and his muscular arms, covered in veins. The reflected image of her getting fucked so well by James Potter was almost enough to make her cum. 

"Like what you see?" James chuckled, his breathing heavy as he continued to please her. 

"Mm-hm" she nodded, smiling back at him. 

James returned her smile with a smirk, his fingers slipping back and forth over her wet clit as he pounded his cock into her tight pussy. Her body shook beneath him and soon both of their breathing sped up, each hard thrust of his bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

"James...I...Oh, Merlin" she mumbled incoherently, her pleasure rising up within her. 

"Cum for me love" he groaned as she tightened around him causing his climax to approach as well.

"Ahh," she cried, feeling bursting within her.

Her insides squeezed and her clit throbbed as she came and James didn't stop, allowing the waves of pleasure to wash over her whole body from the inside out. He continued thrusting into her dripping pussy until he came, allowing her tightness to send him over the edge. When he had finished she breathed heavily in his arms, truly exhausted after the feeling that had just overwhelmed both their bodies. 

"James" she sighed his name like a whisper, turning around so that she was facing him. 

He placed a hand on her waist and another on her cheek, pulling her in for one last, desperate kiss.

[george-weasleys-girl]

Wordsmith - Send me a trope/prompt, and your choice of either George or Fred, and I will weave you a short blurb.

Can I get George with a string of fate soulmate au? Like when they first meat and realize what it means?? Just really fluffy, please, and thank you!!!! If you need more details, let me know, and I'll add some more!!

I love this idea! Thanks for sending it in.

~•~

George Weasley x Fem!reader

~•~

The sensation woke Y/N up out of a dead sleep. It was like when her leg would fall asleep and she'd get that pins and needles feeling when it started to wake up.

It was like that, but not as sharp. It was almost ticklish and it raised goosebumps over her entire body. She turned on the light and watched a small "G" form on her left arm. She knew, without being told what was happening. It happened to everyone at some point. In her case, it was two days before her thirteenth birthday and somewhere out there, her soulmate was watching her first initial imprint itself on their arm. She lay awake for a long time wondering who that person might be and if they were thinking of her, too.

Miles away in another town, a ginger-haired boy sat in the moonlight, smiling as he mulled over the first letter of his soulmate's name, imaging who this amazing person (he just knew they were amazing) would be.

~•~

The first and last letters were the only ones that would appear at the exact same time for each person. All the rest were seemingly random. The second letter appeared on Y/N's arm three years later while she was in surgery getting her appendix removed. She woke up hours later without an appendix and with another clue to her soulmate.

The letter "E".

~•~

George gazed at his arm. His soulmate, whoever they were, were never far from his mind. What did they look like? Were they tall or short? What was their favorite food? Their favorite movie? What did their laugh sound like? Had they ever passed each other on the street? Did they think of him too?

The answer, of course, was yes. All the time. Her eyes were constantly searching for the one she was destined to be with.

~•~

Over the years, the letters appeared one by one until "Georg" was spelled out on her arm.

"George seems the most likely possibility," her brother had commented.

"Or Georgia or Georgina," she retorted.

Her brother only shrugged. "We'll find out eventually."

~•~

And eventually, they did.

Work had been hell that day, and the last thing Y/N wanted to do when she got home was cook. So, she stopped at her favorite restaurant to grab something to go.

She sat at the bar waiting for her order and doing her best not to fall face first into her glass of water, when that familiar prickly sensation jolted her wide-awake. She watched wide-eyed as the letter "E" completed her soulmate's name.

If she hadn't been so exhausted, she would've also noticed a tall ginger-haired gentleman a few seats down watching her like a hawk as the final letter of her name wrote itself on his arm.

'You are the one,' he thought, gazing at her. 'My soulmate. The one I've been searching for, for so long.'

A sudden warmth wrapped itself around Y/N, and suddenly, the name began to glow. That only meant one thing. Her head snapped up, and she found herself gazing into a pair of gentle, chestnut brown eyes.

She immediately looked down at his arm to see her name glowing golden and bright.

A smile spread across her face and she looked up again to find George smiling back at her.

"Hello there, Y/N," he said. "I've been looking all over for you."

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @xmjthewitchx @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @samberriejams @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @mrsgweasley @hufflepuffie @morally-grey-obsessed @fredweasleyyyyy @anvaaryn @lastwandastan @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @qmylovexoxo @planetkt @costheticbabe @drama-queen-fromthevault @thatonepersonwhocantwrite @smallsweetvanillabean @themaraudersslut @hanne-montana @greenapplegrass @el-de-phi @lizzytrees @scooby-doo1995 @phant0mkitsune @spididerman @Yoursarahg

[goldencherry5]

Straight A's

Yale!Harry/College!Harry

Summary: Allison had always been intelligent, extremely so. Since she was a little girl her parents had been told by her teachers they had a prodigy on their hands. And that they did. Top of her class all throughout high school, captain of the lacrosse team, and founder of a small non-profit she would pass on to her younger sister. She excelled in anything and everything…except for dating. She'd never kissed a boy, touched a boy, or even come close to one. She never minded before...Until Harry.

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: 18+, oral(f recieving), praise kink.

Allison had alway been intelligent, extremely so. Since she was a little girl her parents had been told by her teachers they had a prodigy on their hands. And that they did. Top of her class all throughout high school, captain of the lacrosse team, and founder of a small non-profit she would pass on to her younger sister. She excelled in anything and everything…except for dating.

When you’re spending every waking moment studying, going to practice, or bulking up your transcript you don’t have much time for boys. And Allison certainly didn’t. It’s not that she didn’t want to, of course she thought some of the football players were cute, or some of her classmates in his AP Bio class. But, no one ever expressed interest, and besides…it’s not like she had the time for it anyway.

Fast forward to now, Allison had gotten into Yale, her dream school and the obvious choice since she was a legacy. Classes had started a month ago now and she was already loaded with essays and projects to complete. Despite her aching desire to go out and have fun and perhaps finally meet a guy, her only plans for the night were studying. 

“Come on Ali, you study all the time, one night shouldn’t hurt.” Her roommate Hannah whined.

“I’d love to but if I don’t get this essay for American Poli done tonight I’m screwed.” Allison replied, packing her computer and essentials into her tote bag.

“Fine, suit yourself, I’m going out and I’m staying at Peter’s so don’t freak out when I don’t come home…” “Oh and Ali?”

“Yes?” She looked up, hand on the door handle ready to head to the library.

“If you see that cute lacrosse player again, talk to him!”

Allison blushed at her suggestion before waving goodbye and exiting the dorm.

She rushed up the stairs of the library, though she didn’t need to, considering it was 8 o'clock at night and the library usually wasn’t too busy after a certain hour.

The boy Hannah was referring to back at her dorm, Allison met, well saw, at her American politics class and she hasn’t stopped thinking about him since. His name was Harry Styles and he held her attention every time she should be paying attention in class. This may sound creepy but she always tried to sit behind him so she could admire his hair without him seeing her. 

However one day while she was staring at the tattoos he exhibited on his arms his friend turned around and caught her. With a smirk on his face he nudged Harry and nodded towards her, causing her eyes to widen and throw her head down praying he didn’t catch her.

She was on a walk yesterday and happened to pass by the boys’ lacrosse practice where he was fantastic, not to mention incredibly hot. She sat in the bleachers pretending to study when really she just wanted to see Harry after he took his helmet off.

She had found a quiet spot in the corner to pull out her computer and get to work. She had been putting off this essay for a week now and it wasn’t getting any easier no matter how hard she thought. 

Allison jumped at the sound of a cough from the other end of the row of tables and shot her head up. What she was met with was a head of brown curly hair, and green eyes staring down at his computer. He looked warm yet attractive in his Yale Lacrosse hoodie and black glasses.

He could help me she thought, he was probably working on the same essay in fact. The one she had been staring at for forty five minutes without starting. 

After debating in her head for 3 minutes over whether or not she should go over, she finally decided her grades mattered more than protecting her introverted self. 

She strolled over to him trying to act as calm as possible, his head not lifting as she got closer, too immersed in his work. She questioned her decision with every step she took. 

This is so stupid

He’s gonna think you're an idiot

God I should just turn around

“Uh Hi, Harry right?” She asked, a small smile on her face,

He lifted his head up, pulling his hood off his head, allowing his gorgeous curls to flow freely. “Yeah, what’s up?” He smiled back, resting his hands on the edge of the table. His eyes trailed from the headband holding her long brown hair back to the collar over her Yale sweatshirt, to the tiny pleated skirt he had a feeling she didn’t realize was so tiny.

“We’re in the same american politics class, I’m Al-.”

“Allison…I know.” He smirks, almost winking but not quite going that deep into his cheekiness. 

“Yeah…anyway! I don’t know if you started the essay but I’ve been putting it off for way too long and it’s due tomorrow, and I’ve been staring at it for like forty-five minutes so I might be totally screwed…Do you think you could help me out a little?” Her voice got quieter as she went on, becoming shy and unconfident in her question.

His smile only grew though, bunny teeth showing just a tad. “Yeah sure, bring your stuff over here and I’ll help you out, love.” Allison blushed at the pet name and thanked him before jogging back to her desk and clumsily grabbing her stuff. 

She sits down next to him not knowing that for the next two hours they’d be inching closer together all the while starting and finishing her essay. 

“Is this good?” She pointed to her concluding paragraph and he moved his eyes from his computer to hers. She scanned his furrowed eyebrows and his fingers pinching his bottom lip. 

“It’s great…really…and it looks like you're all done now.” He smiled, “Feel better?”

“Much.” She giggled. “Thank you again, I owe you big time.” He just shook his head and squinted his eyes in a tranquil expression.

“Can I walk you home? It’s late and you shouldn’t be out alone.” He asked, putting his stuff into his backpack, getting ready to leave.

“Oh you really don’t have to, I feel like I kept you from your work all night, wouldn’t want to be a bother.” She immediately declined, feeling incredibly nervous about her crush walking her back to her dorm.

“I want to, and I wasn’t gonna get much work done anyways, Friday nights are never productive.” She nods her head in agreement before swinging her tote bag around her shoulder and holding her textbook, that doesn’t quite fit, close to her chest. 

They stepped into the crisp autumn air, her bare legs immediately growing goose bumps.

“You play lacrosse right?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah I do.” She smiled up at him.

“I’ve seen you girls practice a couple times, you’re really good.” He sent her a similar smirk down.

“You’re talking, You’re fantastic.” She scoffed before praising him, his ego boosting just a bit.

“Maybe I could tutor you in that too.” he nudged her hip with his own.

“Hey, I may be a procrastinator but I can shoot a pretty good backbreaker.” Her brows furrowed and he chuckled at her defense.

“Yeah me too…” He sent her a suggestive smirk she didn’t understand and she met him with a confused look. “You’re sweet.” He laughed at her innocence. 

“Oh, what did you think of Professor’s lecture yesterday on mass media? I thought it was spectacular, he’s so engaging for a 70 something year old guy.” Her eyes widen and excitement leaks through her voice in the form of laughter at the end of her ramble. 

“Fantastic, all my friends fell asleep though, I’m glad someone gets it.” He smiled that god damn smile at her again and she blushed…again.

They walked for another fifteen minutes, chatting about their classes and the crazy stuff their roomates have gotten into. She told him about Hannah trying to get her to go out and he told her about how Niall hasn’t gone a day at campus without taking a shot of tequila. He tells her about his constant struggles in psychology saying he got to the hippocampus and pretty much stopped there. They laugh about their lacrosse stories, teasing each other arguing About who’s better (Though she argues she knows the star lacrosse player who’s only a freshman can’t possibly be beat by her.) 

Too soon, they come to her building and as their steps slow so do their words and laughter. She turns around at the door, facing him, not realizing how close he was to her. 

“Um, I really appreciate your help tonight…let me know when you need a psych tutor.” She smiles her sweet smile at him.

He can’t help but stare at the frosty pink of her lips, or how her eyes sparkle in the lights under the awning of her dorm’s door, or how her teeth peek out to bite at her lip, making her look sexier than she most definitely knows. 

He laughs at her dig, tilting his head down, chin hitting his chest. “Yeah whatever princess.”

“Princess?” her eyebrows raise, fist falling to her hip. 

“Yeah…” He leaned down, brushing his lips against her cheek and leaving a chaste kiss there. “Princess…” he whispers in her ear.

She looks up at him, mouth open and eyes wide, looking like a doe in headlights. He just simply smirks at her before turning around and yelling over his shoulder “Bye Allison! See you in class princess.” 

She doesn’t have a thought entering her brain as she opens the door to her building, walks up the stairs, and enters her room. When she arrives in the comfort of her form she shrinks against the door, falling to her butt and letting the warmth rush to her cheeks as she bites her lip to contain her giant smile. 

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Allison didn’t tell Hannah about her little run-in with a Mr. Styles last night knowing she’d only freak out and make her talk to him again. Which she’d not entirely prepared to do.

They may have hit it off last night and he may have been the most amazing person he’d ever laid eyes on…may have been. But that doesn’t mean her caution about boys went away, she still couldn’t see herself going up to him after class no matter how much she wanted to. 

And for the past hour she’d been trying to convince Hannah to let her stay home from a party…A party that Harry’s frat was hosting.

“Allison I don’t really care what you want, you hole yourself up in this room and then you get sad and homesick, and I’m done seeing you sad…You’re going. End of story.” Allison thinks of every excuse she can possibly think of in her mind, trying to get out of what sounds like a horrible, awkward, and terrifying experience. 

“You cannot leave me the whole night.” She finally caves, knowing she’s right and Hannah lets out a scream, throwing her hands around Allison’s neck and rapidly firing all the reasons she’s going to love it and assuring her it will be amazing. Amazing is certainly a stretch.

The party starts at 9 (aka her bedtime) and Hannah spends almost three hours trying her hardest to make Allison feel and look her best. 

“Ali girl when I tell you I’d fuck you if we didn’t have to leave for this party, I’m not joking.” She sighs. “I do good work, I really do.”

Allison rolls her eyes and laughs before taking one last look at herself in the mirror. The long-sleeve, square-cut, cream-colored shirt accentuates what little chest she has and curves around her torso in just the way it should. The black miniskirt making her ass look better than she’s ever seen it, Hannah made sure to comment on that. She had tried to put Allison in a pair of her strappy heels but Ali pulled the calculus help card and told her she’d let Hannah fail math before wearing heels to something like this. So she opted for lending her a pair of heeled boots instead.

“Hannah we can’t be out too late I have lacrosse at 10 tomorrow.” She scoffs at her statement as if it’s not big deal.

“Take a nap after you’ll be fine.” She turns around and grabs Allison’s shoulders before opening the door to the hallway. “Ali…Relax…It’ll be fun I promise, and if it’s not, you never have to go with me again…ok?”

“...Ok, I’ll try to have fun.” Allison smiles, resting her hand on top of Hannah’s before she takes it and pulls her out the door.

I really hope I don’t regret this

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Walking up to the large frat house Allison can’t help but feel overwhelmed beyond belief. Loud music blasts from the walls, lights shine from the inside and out, college students crowd the lawn entering in and out of the house with alcohol in hand. 

Hannah notices her hesitance and turns to her with a smile and a pat on the back. “You’re fine, we’ll get in there, I’ll get you a drink, we’ll dance, we’ll talk, it’ll be good.” She winks before grabbing Allison’s hand and leading her inside.

She’s bombarded by a large foyer filled to the brim with people, and if she thought the music was loud outside, inside was a whole different ball game. As she scans the scene she finds people scattered across the large living room to kitchen, some dancing, some drinking, some…grinding? Either way she’s not sure if she should be looking.

“C’mon let’s go get some drinks.” Hannah pulls her toward the kitchen where there’s a bar instead of an island and alcohol lined up instead of a counter. 

“Hey Will could you get me and my friend here a couple drinks? This is Allison.” She flirtatiously smiles at him before waving her arm up and down in front of Allison. 

“Oh hey Han, glad you could make it, and it’s nice to meet you Allison…Let me tell you she does not give you enough credit.” Allison blushes as he runs his eyes from her skirt up to her hair curled down her shoulders. Hannah sends a smack into his chest, leaning over the counter, to which he laughs and asks what we want to drink.

“Uh I’ll have a long island and Ali…” Allison looks at her with slight panic considering she’s never really had alcohol before except for the one time her older sister sat her down before she graduated. She didn’t want her going to college before knowing how much alcohol she could handle (clearly she didn’t know her sister very well). So they sat on the couch and got wine drunk while watching crappy lifetime movies until Allison was falling over the coffee table. 

“She’ll have a daiquiri.” Hannah tells him before throwing him a wink and turning around to face the crowd. 

“What are we supposed to do now?” Allison asks her.

“Well why don’t you have your first drink first and then…whatever you want to do.” While Hannah talks to Will as he makes their drinks, Ali scans the area trying to decide whether or not she should fake being sick and go home. Like Hannah’s dumb enough to fall for that. 

She’s pulled out of ehr thoughts by a hand on her shoulder and a cold drink being placed in her hand. “Here, if you don’t like it I can just get you water and I’ll drink it, ok?” She nods before taking a sip. She’s overwhelmed by the taste of strawberry and lime, she doesn’t even notice the rum, which may end up being a bad thing by the end of the night. 

Her eyes widen and she nods in enjoyment as Hannah laughs at her reaction. 

They sit at the bar conversing with Will, well, Hannah converses with Will, Allison watches the two converse. She can tell Hannah totally likes him and he’s not hiding it very well either, it makes Allison smile to watch the interaction filled with their flirting when she knows tomorrow Hannah will be denying all of this. 

Through all of this, a second drink is passed to her, along with a third and considering her low tolerance she’s already tipsy after two and a half.

“Hannah.” She pokes her side.

“What’s up babe?” she shushes Will before giving all of her attention to Ali.

“I wanna dance.” She has a small smile on her face and Hannah turns her head to see Will’s eyebrows raised and a few chuckles leave his mouth. 

“Alright, go ahead.” She giggles at her friend.

“Oh no, you have to come with me.” Allison’s eyes widen at the prospect of going alone as she stands and grabs Hannah’s hand.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming.” She takes one last sip of her drink before following Ali to the surprisingly large group of people spread across the living room. Fire Burning by Sean Kingston’s blasting through the multiple speakers strewn across the house. 

To Hannah and honestly Allison’s surprise she’s having an amazing time, and she’s not a half-bad dancer. They take each other’s hand and follow the moves of everyone around them, laughing with some of the girls around them. 

After several songs and several minutes of thinking about nothing but the way her body moves, she feels a hand softly press against her hip, making her turn around and look up at the pair of green eyes the hand belongs to.

“Hi Harry!” She gasps and a wide smile stretches across her face.

“Hey Allison, wasn’t expecting to see you here.” He laughs at her clear tipsy state. 

“I wasn’t gonna come cause I knew you’d be here and you make me nervous but Hannah convinced me.” She spills her thoughts, not having as much restraint in her state. 

“I make you nervous?” He leans further down so she can hear him over the loud music. 

She nods, looking up at him through her deep lashes, biting her lip to try and contain her idiotic smile. 

“Well remind me to thank Hannah.” She turns her head at her name, seeing the two of them so close together she narrows her eyes and lets a smirk fall onto her lips. 

“My pleasure!” She yells to him to which he nods with the same stupid smirk that gets butterflies swarming in Ali’s stomach. 

Into you by Ariana Grande starts playing and Ali gasps, holding Harry’s arms tighter.

“I love this song! Do you wanna dance with me? I think Hannah left me for Will.” She laughs and so does he, nodding and grabbing her hand to lead her further into the crows from their spot on the edge. 

He places her hands on his neck before placing his own on her hips, allowing the two of them to get lost in the music.

After the song ends too soon the pair hear Harry’s name called from the other side of the room.

“Styles we’re about to get a game of pong going, let’s go!” He yells back a quick reply before looking down at Ali.

“Do you want to play? You don’t have to, we can keep dancing if you want, they’ll find someone else.” She shakes her head before telling him she’d like to try cup pong. She’d seen it in movies and it looks pretty easy so she thought why not. 

They walk over to the ping pong table outside on the patio, which, you’ll never guess, was filled with even more people. Who knew that many people even went to yale. 

Will and another guy on the lacrosse team stood on the other side of the table, Hannah standing on the side. 

“Hannah are you not playing?” Ali asks.

“Oh no I don’t do games, babe.” She laughs at her question before pushing her back to her side of the table. 

“That’s Ethan by the way, I heard you already met Will.” Harry told her.

“Allison! Have I heard a lot about you!” He smiles at her from the other end of the table as Harry sends him a glare. She looks up at him a little confused, not knowing why he’d know anything about her, but smiling back at him nonetheless and saying Hi.

“Have you ever played before?” Harry asks her, placing his hand on her back, a hand that send chills up and down her spine. 

She shakes her head replying with a small “no.”

“It’s easy, I’ll go first so you can watch and then you’ll be good, alright love?” Her cheeks heat up at that name again and she nods.

The game starts and from there it’s filled with yells, and several people gather around the table. She misses the cup the first couple times she goes, but after that she seems to be a natural, landing it every time without fail. She hears a couple whispers from people around the table, ‘Who is she?’ “I don't know, I've never seen her before’.

When it’s down to the last cup, unluckily it’s her turn and the two teams are head to head. Harry stands behind her with his hands on the table next to her hips as she eyes the cup in front of her. The position not exactly making it easy for her to focus. 

She throws the ball and it bounces on the table once before rolling along the rim of the cup and finally…falling in. Everybody yells, some in cheer, Will and Ethan in annoyance, She turns around and Harry’s arms are already thrown around her ribs, forcing her arms to go around his neck. Not that she minds, because she certainly doesn’t mind. 

The boys send their reluctant congrats over, patting Harry on the back and waving once more to Allison before heading inside to grab another drink. 

When she turns around she finds him closer than he was before if that’s even possible, and she can’t help but look at his pretty pink lips. 

“I thought you said you’ve never played before?” He smirks down at her, leaning slightly closer, forcing her butt to hit the ping pong table.

“I haven’t…beginner’s luck I guess.” She smiles.

“I usually suck at that game, I think you’re my lucky charm.” They both laugh until the giggling ends and they’re left staring between each other’s lips and eyes. 

Harry had seen her earlier from across the room and couldn’t help but widen his eyes at her perky ass in that skirt, her gorgeous body in that top, and her beautiful features that glowed in the flashing lights. Since then he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about what her lips would feel like, or how her body would feel beneath his fingertips. 

“Do you wanna go up to my room? You don’t have to say yes, we can just go back inside and we can find Hannah if you want.” He asks.

“No…I mean, yes, yes I want to go upstairs.” He smiles at her slight stuttering and wraps her hand in his before leading her inside and through the crowd, keeping her close at all times. 

As they quickly walked up the stairs she scanned the several sports plaques lining the walls and soon enough Harry was opening the door to a small room she presumed to be his. 

Unlike what she imagined college guys’ rooms to look like, Harry’s room was clean, organized, decorated with posters of bands, and sports teams, not to mention the giant stack of books in the corner of his room. 

“Harry?” She turned around from inspecting his room to find him standing over by the door throwing a sweatshirt that was hanging over his chair into his hamper. 

“Ali?” He responds.

“I-uh…I don’t want to like…have sex with you…tonight.” She shyly mutters, slightly embarrassed and a little afraid he would be mad. 

“Oh that’s okay…” He notices her getting seemingly more embarrassed. “Really Allison it’s okay.” He walks closer to her, lacing one of his fingers through two of hers. 

“I’m sorry it’s just I’ve never…um, I’m a little embarrassed.” She nervously laughs at the end of her sentence.

“Don’t apologize, please, and that’s nothing to be embarrassed about, If you want we can just sit and watch a movie or something…I really just wanted to be with you away from all those knuckleheads downstairs…promise.” He smiles at her, folding all of their fingers together and feeling her small hand enclosed by his. 

“I wanna do…other stuff though.” She looks up at him not sure what his reaction will be.

He walks her back slightly until the back of her knees hit his bed. 

“You want me to make you feel good?...Princess.” She nods, feeling drunk on something other than alcohol now. 

She eventually falls down onto the bed, and he wraps an arm around her to bring her up to the top of the mattress. 

He places one knee on the bed beside her, making the bed dip, before climbing overtop of her and hovering his face over her own.

“You’re unreal angel.” He tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear to reveal her blown out pupils.

“You’re gorgeous Harry.” She replies, staring into his forest green eyes.

He chuckles at her words, loving how sweet she is. “Can I kiss you, princess?” She nods immediately, causing his smile to deepen and his thoughts to get darker. 

He leans his head down to brush his lip against her open ones, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. 

He finally leans back down and encases her bottom lip between his, pressing a sweet kiss to her rosy lips.

She already feels herself wanting more, already knowing that she’s obsessed with kissing him. 

He gives her another kiss, this time to her top lip and she reciprocates this time, pushing against him slightly and moving her hands up to grasp his hair. He moves his finger down her jaw before giving a kitten lick to the seam of her lips.

She gasps at his motion, causing him to lean back a little in question but she just nods and lifts her head to kiss his lips.

After he does that a few times, she finally gets comfortable enough to open her mouth to him. He doesn’t shove it inside, but instead slowly works his way in, licking across her tongue and along her mouth. She can feel a heat pool between her legs at his motions and finds herself squirming a little. 

They makeout for a couple minutes, each time he pulls away, she comes back for more, already becoming enthralled by his mouth. Eventually, he moves his mouth down to her jawline and presses kisses along the bone before going behind her ear and sucking at the kin there. She whimpers slightly at the feeling, continuing to let out breathy sighs and gasps as he works his way down her neck and over her collarbones. He feels around the bottom of her shirt tucking his fingers beneath the hem. 

“Can I take this off?” She nods urgently, wanting nothing more than to feel him closer. He lifts the shirt over her arms revealing a tiny white lace bra and the rest of her olive skin. 

“God you’re so sexy Ali.” She breathes harder at his praise combined with his lips moving to kiss over the swell of her breast. He sucks hard on the flesh, causing a red bruise to form. 

“You have no idea do you? You walk around in that tiny skirt and your cute headbands and you have no idea I’m getting hard in my pants?” She whines, growing more and more needy by the second, her bottom half squirming endlessly.

He grips her hips as he moves slowly down her body, planting kisses all over her pretty stomach. “Shh, stop moving.” He whispers against the skin right above her skirt. She immediately stops moving, following his orders, hoping to please him. All she cares about right now is being good for him. “Good girl.” She doesn’t think she’s ever had more butterflies in her life. 

He starts to pull at her skirt, looking up at her for approval to which she whispers a small yes. 

He pulls at the black material, shifting it down her pretty, tan legs. As the skirt inches further and further down, a matching ivory, lace pair of panties are revealed, making his jeans feel tighter by the second. 

He smirks at the darkened, damp patch right over her pussy as he pulls her skirt over her boots, before unzipping them and removing those with it. He takes off her last boot, holding her ankle in his hand. He smooths his hand over her soft calf, followed by her gorgeous thighs, and soon the hem of her panties.

“Harry-” She whimpers.

“‘S okay princess…You want my mouth?” Her eyes widen at the prospect, having never even been touched before, but she eagerly accepts his offer, feeling an indescribable ache for him. 

He kisses the inside of her thigh, running his tongue up the skin until she feels his breath over her clothed cunt. 

He presses an open-mouthed kiss right over the gray area, causing her body to tense yet relax at the same time. 

“Can I take these pretty panties off, angel?” 

“Yes, yes, please.” He watches her head nod, her hair fanning out across the pillow, his pillow.

“So polite…” He smirks, hooking his ringed fingers into the sides and pulling down. 

“Ali you’re soaked…All for me?” He asks, eyes blown out as he sets his eyes on her cunt for the first time.

She just whimpers again, too delirious to answer him.

“Answer me princess.” His eyebrows furrow slightly, his teeth biting into her thigh.

She gasps. “Yes, all for you Harry, please touch me.” 

He can’t seem to deny her any longer, so he immediately leans forward at her begging, licking a strip from her clenching hole to her clit. 

Her back arches at the first touch, already feeling like she’s going to explode. 

He smooths his hands up and down the tops of her thighs which are locked over his shoulders, caging his head in. And, there’s no place he’d rather be. 

He kisses around her folds, flicking his tongue up and down her bud, listening to her whines and moans. 

It’s when he sucks her clit into her clit into his mouth and sucks hard, tonguing at the nub that she really loses it. 

“Harry!” She yelps, reaching her hand down to tug at the curls on his head. 

“You’re pretty little clit’s all swollen, baby…” He tells her, wanting to get as much of a reaction out of her he can.

He untangles one arm from around her thigh to lightly tap his fingers against her hole. He feels her clench against them and he takes it as an invitation to slip one finger into her weeping hole. She welcomes him in, almost sucking his finger into her. He removes his digit as fast as he inserted it, replacing it with his tongue and reaching the tip as far as he can, licking around her walls causing her broken moan to serenade his ears. 

He inserts his finger again, this time with his middle and index and begins thrusting them in and out of her. He’s sure it must be slightly uncomfortable for her first time, so he eases her discomfort with kitten licks to her clit, causing her to relax around his fingers. 

He continues, until her finds tha spongy spot deep inside of her that causes her to shake around him.

“Oh! Harry I-” Her words are cut off by a moan and her smirks against her heat.

“Gonna come on my fingers, pretty girl?” She nods, losing herself on his tongue. 

Soon enough, with a few more pulsing sucks to her bud and a few more thrusts of his fingers, she’s releasing over his hand, his tongue immediately moving to lick up her orgasm. She shakes in the aftermath, breathy moans falling from her lips. 

She stills, her chest rising up and down, and mouth falling open. Her hand releases his hair and comes up to brush her hair off her face. 

He climbs overtop of her again, looking into the pretty color of her post-orgasmic eyes before pressing a soft kiss to her mouth, letting his bottom lip stick to her top for a lingering second. 

“Wow.” She says, causing him to chuckle loudly, followed by her giggles.

She smiles up at him, her giggles slowing to a stop. “Um…do you, you know…” She looks down to the tent in his jeans. 

“Oh no…I’m okay, really…Another time.” he winks, before moving off of her to grab a t-shirt from his drawer. He tosses her the item to let her inspect it. 

“You’re a Packers fan?” She asks, throwing the t-shirt over her head, and grabbing her underwear from the edge of the bed, to pull up her legs. 

“No other choice is there?” He smiles over his shoulder before crawling into the bed next to her. 

“I’m more of a Pats fan myself.” She smirks down at his lying position, her criss-cross position giving her height over him and allowing her hair to tickle his cheek.

“Get out.” He points to the door, causing her to laugh and hit his shoulder. 

“Um-no but you can stay if you want? You don’t have to but…I don’t know, it’s late.” He speaks through his continuous laughter. 

“I have lacrosse in the morning-”

“Me too, I can drive you?” She smiles at the prospect, her teeth biting into her lip. 

“Okay…” She lies down and he lifts the covers for her to slide into. 

“How do we feel about Friends?” He asks her, grabbing the remote from his bedside table. 

“Love!” 

“Oh thank god, I might actually have to kick you out if you were a patriots fan and a Friends hater.” She chuckles, nudging him with her hip, to which he responds by putting his arm around her shoulder and his other behind his head. 

The pair watch two episodes of Friends before Ali’s falling asleep, her eyes momentarily closing before opening again, and repeating until her body relaxes completely into his and her head falls onto his collarbone. 

And he brushes his fingers through the ends of her hair until his own sleep takes over him. 

His last thought crosses his mind. 

She doesn’t just get straight A’s in class does she…

[cryoux]

(Not) Too Late - NaLu

When Lucy yelped from the other side of the room, Natsu's world went fuzzy.

He couldn't even perceive the people he pushed past to run across the packed ballroom as quickly as possible. Everything flashed through his head at once - he wasn't sure what had happened, but visions of what had occurred the previous times he'd been too late plagued him.

In the time it took to shove past a group of people, Future Lucy had died again.

When he accidentally tripped over an extended chair leg and almost knocked someone over, his Lucy was once more laying limply in the corner of a stone room, blood pooling around her head.

Distantly, a glass crashed to the floor, as he shook an unresponsive Lucy while pleading for her to wake up.

This couldn't be happening again.

None of this was allowed to happen again.

So where in the hell was-

"Natsu!!"

Yanked from his too-real memories, the dragon slayer blinked his fuzzy vision away and focused on the overwhelming sight before him. Lucy.

It was Lucy, unharmed.

Lucy, completely fine.

Lucy, …concerned?

"Natsu, what the heck has gotten into you?" The blonde mage scolded, glancing behind him at the excessive disruption and upset he'd caused. But Natsu couldn't give a damn about them.

"You're okay," he croaked, taking a few deep, grounding breaths, the air smelling of alcohol, perfumes, and Lucy.

"Of course I'm okay, what even-" Her irritation dissolved entirely when she saw the foreign look of anxiety on his face. "Are… you okay?" The worry stitched in her brow distantly reminded him that she'd said she was certain she would have wrinkles on her forehead by the time she was twenty.

Natsu sighed in relief. "Yeah. I'm fine." His face lit up with the expression that came so easily to him, a broad and reassuring smile that most people hadn't been able to read through. Natsu had always sworn to wear his heart on his sleeve, but when it came to Lucy that idea felt so wrong. He needed to be the strong one, to comfort her when she cried, to encourage her wherever she went. His own negative emotions only got in the way - and besides, they felt terrible.

Maybe another time Lucy would have dismissed it, continued on with her night while worrying about her partner. But this situation was too strange, his outburst too profound to ignore. Lucy turned to go outside, gesturing for him to follow, and the action came naturally to him.

As he trailed behind her, however, he noticed how uneven her walk was. That was odd. Too odd. Before they'd even made it through the doors, Natsu stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. Lucy didn't turn around.

"What happened?" He asked, all hints of a smile gone.

"It's fine. I can barely feel it."

"Feel what?"

Lucy seemed exasperated at his demanding tone. "Natsu, really, I'm okay-"

"But what if you weren't?!" He snapped, desperation seeping into his voice. Lucy blinked up at him with owlish eyes, those beautiful brown eyes that made him feel so warm every time they landed on him.

It wasn't just her eyes on him now, though. A small crowd of people had taken notice of the situation, their prying eyes and (what they thought were subtle) whispers flooding through his senses. Natsu did not want an audience.

He scooped Lucy up into his arms before she could get away, marching them outside and around the corner, into the garden. Lucy seemed to be too shocked to insist on walking herself, until she noticed their seclusion.

With nothing more than a look, Natsu got the message to put her back down, albeit with great reluctance.

"Okay, what is going on with you? You've never spoken to me like that before Natsu. You can't push me away this time, you're my best friend and I'm worried about you." Her voice shook, and the telltale smell of salt hit his nose. No no no, please don't cry. He'd do anything to stop her from crying.

Natsu dropped his gaze, trying to burn a hole in the hedge bushes with nothing more than the intensity of his eyes. Unfortunately, even for dragons, that remained impossible. He'd still try though. Anything to avoid this situation.

So slowly yet all at once, Natsu felt Lucy's warmth envelop him. Lucy, at a loss for what to do when Natsu was being so nonverbal, wrapped her arms around him and buried her tears in his chest. If all else failed, she knew actions were one way to get through to him.

"Sorry, Lucy." Natsu finally spoke. Then it was his turn to be at a loss. What should he say? What could he do?

Thankfully, his brilliant partner had an idea. "I tripped on my heel and hurt my ankle," Lucy drew away from him and confessed, crystal droplets accumulating in her eyes. Always so emotional, he thought.

"Your turn," she urged quietly, looking up at him. "What's wrong?"

It all hit him at once. The ghostly memories of her death, her pain, her tears, all whirling around his mind in a terrifying tornado. Natsu shut his eyes, but he only saw the image of crimson blood stapled to the back of his eyelids.

Lucy's blood.

Natsu shook his head to chase away those images. That was all in the past, and he'd sworn to protect the future. But the past still haunted him, dragging him back, weighing him down. Igneel's disappearance, Lucy's tears, Igneel's death, Lucy's death-

"Natsu." Her voice snapped him back. It was soft, gentle, the same tone she used to comfort kids when they were on missions. In a way, he felt like one, reliving his past all while standing right here as an adult. He was grown up, damnit, he could move on.

The party was a faint buzz of white noise as he stared at the ground, lost for words. After the silence extended even further, he heard the soft noise of air shifting as Lucy sighed.

"Okay. I'm going back inside to work on the job. I… I'll shout if I need you, 'kay?" He could feel her eyes on him as she spoke, but he didn't move. He couldn't.

Once again, Lucy opened her mouth to say something, but it seemed she thought the better of it. Instead she turned around and made her way back to the crowded ballroom. There was nothing she could do if he refused to speak.

A few minutes later, after a deep breath, Natsu cleared his mind as best he could, finally heading back inside. He could only hope there would be a fight soon, because these emotions running rampant were really getting frustrating.

[asknarashikari]

Birthday girl here, so minific of Gira befriending Hopper 1 and Houtaro (while their loves watxh)

The things I do for you, Mana. Happy birthday~

"They're quite adorable, aren't they?"

Rinne jumped, not having sensed the man suddenly come from behind her, and she looked down so as to not meet his eyes. She felt heat rise to her cheeks as she realized she'd been caught staring. "I- I suppose? Ichinose isn't someone I'd really call adorable..."

"Miss Kudo, there's no point in lying to me," chided Jeremy with a mischievous smirk. "After all, I don't need to read between the lines... I can see it plainly on your face."

Rinne flushed some more and fidgeted with her sleeve. "It's just- they get along with Hopper-1 really well, I guess..." she muttered, unable to admit what she was really looking at- or why. "I know Ichinose's good with the Chemmies, but Gira-san... He's not even an alchemist, but Hopper really likes him."

"Indeed," Jeremy agreed, his gaze shifting from the girl to their friends, who seemed to be listening to Hopper with rapt attention as he messed around with some bottles and glasses. "I should not be surprised though- Gira easily made friends with everyone. Even his own partner, Kuwagon." Jeremy laughed. "It's one of the things that I can never understand about him, not matter how hard I tried to read him."

Rinne nodded. "I know the feeling," she responded, "I can't understand how Ichinose manages to be so cheerful all the time..."

She lifted her head to look across the room. Houtaro caught her gaze, and he smiled at her so widely laugh lines appeared at the corner of his eyes. Gira didn't notice her or Jeremy though, because Hopper-1 was insistently pushing a glass of brown liquid into his hands.

Jeremy snickered. "Does not stop us from loving them, does it not?"

"No..." Jeremy barked out a laugh, and it was only then Rinne realized what she just confessed. "No, wait, I mean-"

"A-Ah! Wait, that's- Hopper-1, don't pressure Gira-san into drinking!" Houtaro suddenly exclaimed, trying to grab the glass out of the other's hands while Hopper protested.

"It tastes okay though...? I don't even taste alcohol... it literally tasted like a latte to me." Gira said as he downed the wholes glass.

Jeremy blinked. "...Drinking?" he echoed, confused.

"Apparently Hopper-1 loves kahlua milk," Rinne explained. "He's a Chemmy so he doesn't get drunk, but... he says he likes it quite strong..."

Jeremy winced. "I hope we don't come to regret this..."

[living-for-tomorrow]

LFT Chapter 1 Teaser

Leon and Claire meet:

Claire reached the glass door and frantically threw herself against it. The door flew open with a loud crash, but she had made it.

Thank god. Maybe there's some people in here who could—

Then she saw it…

It was unmistakable – the end of a gun aimed directly at her face.

What little relief had filled her mind vanished into thin air, replaced by pure terror.

“Don't shoot!” She cried, her voice desperate and full of panic, as she threw her hands high into the air in an attempt to prove that she wasn't a threat.

I’m clearly not a zombie! No need to shoot me, right? ...Please?

Claire gulped nervously as she looked up with shaky eyes, locking onto a piercing blue pair staring back at her, wide and terrified, his face shrouded in darkness.

She wondered how scared she looked right now.

Please… Please don't shoot me.

It was ironic.

Thinking she'd get killed by zombies only to get shot by a guy with a gun.

“Get down!” The man ordered with a booming voice.

Without wasting a second, Claire dropped to her knees and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

If she was about to get shot, she didn't want to see it.

Please, I just want to find my brother!

A deafening bang echoed throughout the pitch-black room.

WAIT! I DID WHAT YOU SAID!

But instead of feeling pain, Claire heard a squelch quickly followed by a raspy groan from behind her.

What the…?

Her eyes snapped open, and she hastily looked over her shoulder, seeing a zombie fall backwards and hit the ground hard, lying there motionless as blood pooled out around it. She felt shocked beyond belief.

Shit. That thing almost had me. All it needed was another second...

“Oh my god…” The words slipped past her lips so quietly that she wasn't even sure she'd heard them herself.

The man quickly glanced behind himself before stepping into the light, his gun still raised but not at her.

Now that she could get a better look at him, Claire studied the man's face. He was young – not much older than her. He had golden brown hair, deep blue eyes, and quite a boyish face, terror yet equal determination etched across it.

For what it was worth, it gave her a small sense of hope, and Claire's heart rate increased for a different reason.

Oh, he's kinda—

“You alright?” The man interrupted that thought, glancing down at her briefly before locking his attention back on the horde of oncoming zombies.

Claire slowly pushed herself up from the floor, quickly stepping out of the building alongside him.

“Yeah, I think so... Thanks.” She said, glancing over at him while catching her breath.

I really would've been toast right now if it weren't for you. Even if you did aim that gun at me.

The man glanced at her again, the look in his eyes softening.

“You can thank me later, when we're safe.”

RE2 Cleon Rewrite: Living for Tomorrow – Coming August 15th

[wisteriasymphony]

soooo. uhm. TAoL arc is gonna be a little gay.....

Looking at her made Cerise weak in the knees. Long reddish butterfly locs spilled like a waterfall of copper down to her waist, a few strands falling over her jacket—which she decorated with pins, one to "Save the Ocean", one with a black raised fist, one with the Venus symbol, and then other smaller pins with taglines like "I Voted" and "I <3 The Press". Kind brown eyes shone through tortoiseshell glasses, and then they narrowed into something more cunning and... foxy?

God, if only Cerise looked like her.

If only Cerise hadn't crashed into her and fallen over.

"Hey. New Student?" the girl asked, helping Cerise up. "What's your name?"

"Lila Rossi."

GOD FUCKING DAMNIT, ROSSEAU ROSSEAU ROSSEAU! IT WAS MEANT TO BE LYDIA ROSSEAU, YOU SPENT HOURS WORKING WITH ADRIEN ON THIS YOU IDIOT——

"Nice to meet you. I'm Alya."

Lila hadn't actually talked with someone like this in a while, save for Adrien. Hell, she was barely comfortable talking as is. Lila knew she was probably holding onto Alya's hand for much longer than what was normal or heterosexual.

"You too," Lila said, resorting to an awkward grin. "I-uhm- You're— Thank you."

She never had any right to make fun of Adrien's dorkiness ever again. Every time he'd stammered or blushed or swooned over her felt like peanuts compared to this—No fucking wonder! The adrenaline would kill her. -Fuck, maybe he'd be worse around her if Cerise was actually pretty like Alya was! She'd apologize to him in their next class, hopefully. If they sat beside each other. Adrien could probably pull some strings.

"You haven't gotten lost yet, right?" Alya joked, finally pulling her hand away. "François Dupont is pretty big."

She was getting lost in something pretty, that was for sure. God, she'd never look that good in glasses. Or in orange.

"It-It's fine," Lila stammered back. "I, uh— I got to talk with Adrien, he told me where to go."

"Agresté, right?" A voice from behind called out. Suddenly, Lila found an arm wrapped around her shoulders. "No need, Miss Pickets. She's with me."

Alya scowled at the blonde who'd just butted in to their conversation.

"Don't you have a pink Mercedes to crash, Chloé?"

Holy shit, holy fuck, Lila was being sandwiched between two pretty girls and she hadn't even been here a week, how the hell did Adrien not go fucking stir crazy in this place surrounded on all ends by beautiful women, she was going to die and it would be right here, right now—

Chloé smacked a wad of gum between her teeth, her words flowing out with a subtle mintiness to it. "Don't you have a protest to attend, Césaire? If she's with Adrien, then I want her to keep herself around the right kind of crowd."

"What do you mean, 'right kind'?"

Lila slipped out from between both of them, plastering herself against a row of lockers like a squished fly.

"Haha, this is— I am so glad to be welcome here, really," Lila smiled, so anxious she thought it would make her cry. "But I, uh— I actually need to go to the nurses's office. I sprained my wrist the other day and uh- I— Bye!"

Lila had started the day off worrying that the worst possible thing to occur would be if Adrien asked to hook up in a janitor's closet. Now she wished that she had hid in a janitor's closet from the very start.