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darlingshane · 4 months

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Professor Castle

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank has a weakness and it's named after you. No matter how much he tries to push you away he always returns to the same point.

CW: 18+. Explicit, Smut, Angst, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Fingering, Making out, Professor/Student relationships, Age Gap, Reader is an undergrad student in her early 20s. [I know this is very problematic. Don't come at me. It's just fiction.]

Word Count: 2.8k // AO3 Link.

A/N: This was inspired by this picture of Jon in Origin. I couldn't write for that character in particular, so I thought Frank was the best choice for it, even if it's a lot OOC.

As you muster the courage to enter and confront Professor Castle, you observe him through the cracked door of his office. He looks as good as ever, freshly shaved, in one of his Bexley plaid shirts in white with blue plaid lines, and a dark tweed blazer on top. His hair has slightly curled from the humid weather. His glasses slip a little over the bridge of his nose when he looks down, and he pushes them back in place before tucking a folder in his leather case. You haven't seen him in a few days. Even when you submitted the form to drop his class you managed to leave it on his desk yesterday after he left home. And just early this morning before getting to campus you got an email from him from his uni account, formally denying your request to drop. You don't give a fuck about failing and having to take another course with a different teacher but after what he told you last weekend, you can't stay in his class any longer. It'd be like torture having to see him and not being able to be with him like you desire to.

Of course, you don't ever want to get him in trouble either, he has a lot more to lose than you. But if he doesn't want to see you anymore, then so don't you. So, after a moment of consideration you just clench your fist as hard as you can, set your jaw straight, and storm into the office without announcing yourself. The door slamming the door behind you is what alerts him of your presence. The loud sound makes his head snap up to look at you, standing as tall as you can.

“You can't force me to stay in your class.” You say firmly without raising your voice.

His brow knits behind the thin frame of his glasses as he processes your intrusion.

“No, I guess I can't force you. But I can't let you drop either. You missed the deadline. Unless you have a good excuse like a serious medical condition or emergency the school is not going to let you withdraw at this point. It's out of my hands.”

“Does dying of heartbreak count as a medical emergency?”

“Jesus Christ, you theater kids are really dramatic.”

“Hey, you're the one who told me to join a club.”

“Yeah, but I meant something else like uh… the debate team, the honor society, the newspaper, or the fucking model UN.”

“Well, I made my choice and so did you. I can't just keep showing up at your class and pretend that nothing happened. Can you just think of something? If I meant anything to you… just give me this, Frank.”

You never said his first name before on school grounds. It sounds like a curse word as it slips out of your mouth.

“There are only two months left. That's nothing. Are you telling me you're willing to throw all of that away for me?”

“Yes, because if I can't have you then I can't see you either.”

You catch when his Adam's apple anxiously goes up and down as you say that.

“This is all my fault. I should've never… I should've put a stop to it when I had the chance.”

“Frank—” You take a step closer to his desk, but he promptly holds a placating palm in the air to push you to a stop.

“Don't. Please. Don't throw away your future for me or for anyone for that matter. You're smart and young and strong enough to endure a few more classes. You'll be getting your bachelor's next year, sweetheart. After that… you won't even remember I was ever part of your life.”

“I won't ever forget. I'm begging you. Just let me go or take me back… but…” your frustration knots in your throat. “Stop pushing me away. I know you love me.”

“It doesn't matter if I do. We both have a lot to lose if they find out.”

“Nobody will. We'll be more careful… We could just start over somewhere else, just you and me.”

“Life is not a movie. It doesn't work like that. I know it feels like a matter of life or death right but when you're older—”

“Don't patronize me. I know what I feel. Just take me out of your class or don't. I won't show up either way.”

You turn around to leave the room at once but Frank quickly shuffles behind you and as you reach to grab the handle, he holds the door closed and secures the lock before your eyes.

“So help me God, you're gonna be the end of me, sweetheart.” His tone changes to an octave graver that sends a chill through your spine.

“What are you doing?” You turn around as he steps so awfully close you can capture the strong scent of his aftershave.

“You're going to stay in my class. Front row. Every Wednesday at 10. Then, you're going to ace your final in May. I don't ever wanna hear you again saying otherwise. Is that clear?” He states as a matter of fact, as if you had no choice but to comply with his demand.

“Why are you so convinced I will?”

You watch him up close as he takes off his glasses and lifts his opposite hand to frame your jaw. With conflicted thoughts he pushes your back against the wall, as his face leans to seize your mouth. Professor Castle slowly spells with his tongue all the secrets kept between you in just one beautiful kiss that leaves you breathless.

“Is that enough?” His head pulls back as he sets his glasses back over his eyes as you smooth the lapels of his blazer.

“I'm not sure,” you draw a breath and let the bookbag hanging on your shoulder fall to the floor. “I think I'm gonna need a bigger incentive.”

“There's never enough for you, huh?” he holds your jaw again and tilts your head to the side as he buries his mouth in the crook of your neck.

His lips hold some sort of spell that enchants your body with just a few nips on your skin. The tip of his tongue is laced with poison that intoxicates each and all of your senses as it juts out to leave a wet trace from your collarbone to the back of your ear before pulling back. His eyes turn darker behind the glass as he locks eyes with you. Your pulse picks up in your chest as he licks his lips and allows lust to take over. He watches his thumb trace the shape of your mouth before fiercely succumbing to the temptation of your lips once more, with feeling.

As your arms curl around his neck, his hands travel beneath the hem of your striped, knitted sweater to bask in the warmth of your skin. The sloppy sounds of your kisses sound like sin in this room. You should stop. He should too. But neither of you have enough strength to push the other away.

One of his hands stays pressed on your spine while the other travels down your denim skirt and slips underneath the hem. Hiking it up, his large palm shamelessly grabs your ass, molds your flesh to the shape of his fingers over your panties. Your skin quickly heats up and your mind swirls along the maddening rhythm of his tongue. He presses himself so hard against you, it feels like he's already fucking you, but it's the illusion of his fingers bluntly sliding between your legs and pressing over your opening, stirring a good moan out of you.

“Sh, sh…” he breaks the kiss and whispers a millimeter away from your mouth. “Gotta be quiet now, yeah?”

You simply nod, having his eyes gauging your expression changing as his hand viciously massages your pussy.

“Like that?” His lips pull up at the corners, and you mirror his expression as you softly pant.

“Fuck yeah.”

Then, you close your eyes and press your forehead to his shoulder, keeping your hands anchored to his arms as your juices stain the fabric of your underwear.

“You're dripping, sweetheart.” His voice echoes in your ear. “Is this what you want?”

He presses harder as your grip on him tightens.

“Yeah.”

For a second you think he's going to finish you right there but all of a sudden he stops.

“C'mere,” he locks your arms around his neck before lifting your ass in his hands without much effort. You tuck your legs around his hips as he takes turns around and walks toward the desk.

Keeping you secured in one arm, Frank blindly moves the stuff in the middle before carefully lowering you down on the wooden surface. While you lay on your back, he sits on his chair and brings your ass close to the edge. Instead of letting your legs dangle, he places your feet on each arm of his chair as he kisses one of your knees.

“God, you're so beautiful,” he mumbles against your skin as he rolls down the fabric of one of your thigh-high stockings to uncover your leg. He does the same with the other stocking before letting his lips get his reward.

The inside of your thigh leads a straight road down to hell. After last weekend, he promised himself he would never cross that line again, but he has a weakness, and it’s named after you. It's taken him through a dangerous path that puts everything he ever believed into question. He could lose his job and his reputation if someone were to cross the door to his office and find you spread like a meal ready to consume. It's lunchtime after all, and he can't think of anything better to feast on other than you. His lips trail that perdition-paved road on your thigh as his fingers softly brush the back of your leg. Your skin sticks out as you pull your knees further apart to make room for his face as it gets closer to your center. The corner of his glasses gently pokes the top of your thigh when he reaches that crucial point. You bite your lip and stare at the broken fixture on the ceiling and try to keep yourself from moaning when he pulls your panties to the side. He stretches the fabric as far as it goes, it makes a tearing sound, but it doesn't break. You couldn't care less if he rips them apart. It wouldn't be the first time either. He’s ruined two pairs already. Professor Castle has a wild side that only comes untamed when he’s with you. But this is different. He's never gone down on you right in his own office on campus like he's about to do. You both know the implications of that, but rules be damned right now. All that worry floats out of your head as his tongue makes first contact with your pussy. He draws a line from your opening up to your clit ever so softly before pulling your outer lips apart and diving in. He has just an ounce of restraint himself from going too hard and making you scream out in pleasure, even though he wants so badly to suck on your clit to hear you pleading for more. To stir out of your voice call out his name and title out of sheer joy. But he holds back. He presses an array of kisses and nibbles all over your folds as you close your eyes to focus on the torturing slow pace of his tongue. Your nipples are hard as a rock under your bra, your legs strain to stay in position when Frank slowly laps around your clit, collecting your arousal as your breathing hollows. He places a palm on your stomach, right under your sweater and catches the effects of his mouth in the way your body reacts. There’s an added edge to doing this right here, it makes his cock throb in his underwear as you mumble his name.

“Frank.” It comes out as a murmur, and he hums against your tender skin before going a little harder. There’s only so much he can do to up the pace and make you come without alerting anyone behind that door of what’s happening inside.

We'll be more careful, you said. He eats out your words straight out of your sex.

To speed up the process uses his other hand to slip two fingers into your opening and press on your g-spot. Your back arches in response. Frank has to press that hand on your abdomen a little harder to keep you from squirming too much. It feels like an eternity until you reach the point of no return, once you're there you can feel that fire burning bright at your core as a mind-numbing chill settles at the back of your head. You've never felt that intense jolt sparking your body like fireworks before. Then again you don't have much to compare him to other than the one and only boyfriend you had when you started college.

You grip at his hair as he cues your orgasm. With a strong flick of his tongue and that adamant pressing of your walls you finally come undone. You bury a moan in your throat as every cell of your body is touched by that wildfire that travels from your center out in every direction. It curls your toes in your shoes, your eyes shut, your knees clench together before he can pull his face away. As the orgasm ebbs he sets himself free from your thighs and watches you descend from cloud nine. He uses a tissue to clean up your cunt and fixes your panties to their former position. Then, Frank settles your legs down as your body goes completely limp, and straightens your skirt over your thighs with such love it almost makes you cry.

“Frank,” your voice comes out watery.

“Sh, it's okay, baby. I know. Come here.” He helps you up and pulls you onto his lap.

“I missed you.”

“I know.” He smiles against your hair as he snuggles you against his chest. “I’ve missed you too, sweetheart.”

You clear your throat and stay still for a minute while his hand soothes your back before noticing he’s still hard.

“Do you want me to take care of this?” You fondle his bulge over his pants.

“No, that’s okay. That’s my punishment for hurting you.” He takes your hand away, brings it up to his lip to kiss your knuckles.

“You really have a thing for punishment, huh?” You quip, lifting your head to look at him. It’s then that you notice his messed up hair and send our fingers to fix it.

“Not as much as you do.” His hand pats your ass reminding you of all those times you've begged him to spank you when you were being a brat.

You laugh as you take off his glasses and use the hem of your sweater to clean them.

“Can I come over this weekend?” You ask putting his eyewear back on.

“I have that wedding I told you about. Can't get out of it, I'm the best man.”

“Right. Of course. One of your marine buddies. Florida, right?”

“Yeah.” His stare goes down as he massages your hand thinking that maybe… “You could come with me if you want.”

“I uh… I don't think I'm ready for that.”

“No, you are. Nobody will know you there, and I don't wanna keep lying about you, at least not to my friends. They won't give a fuck, you know? I'm tired of being set up for blind dates and shit.”

“Oh, it must be really hard being you.” You mock.

“Don't laugh. Just think about it. It'll be something casual at the beach. I'll get you a ticket if you're worried about that.”

“I really changed your mind, did I? That's a full 180 from what you said the other day, Frank. Are you sure you want this?”

“Yeah, I was only fooling myself thinking that I could stay away from you. Which I would've if you hadn't shown up here with a fucking attitude. But you're right, we'll have to be more careful from now on.”

“And we can do whatever we want in Florida.”

“Yeah, you wanna come?”

“Only if you really want me there.”

“I wouldn't be asking if I didn't.”

“Then I'll go with you.”

You press your lips sweetly against his and let them bounce together for a moment before getting back to reality. You pull up your stockings all the way up and fix up your clothes before collecting your bag from the floor. But Professor Castle can't help but stall for a bit longer to kiss you once more until you have no choice but to run to your next class.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher fanfiction #frank castle smut #jon bernthal #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal smut #angst #smut #darlingwrites

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yuta-nation · 5 months

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Light Shower (Yuta Okkotsu)

summary: your big brother butts into your sex life, and you both get more than you bargained for.

content: dead dove (do not eat), incest/stepcest (left unclear), big bro!yuta, afab fem!reader (no pronouns but referred to as girl, sister, ect.), inexperienced!reader, oral (m -> f), protected p -> v, squirting, fingering, possessive!yuta, pillow princess!reader, mentions of alcohol but reader is not drunk.

wc: 3.8k

a/n: HEED THE CONTENT WARNINGS !! I HAVE MADE SHIT SO FUCKING CLEAR !!! anyways, i've been working on this fic for months, and i'm so happy it's finally done ! this whole thing is dedicated to @princess-okkotsu for being nasty with me and lovely to me.

You had many reasons for moving in with your older brother for your last year of undergrad. You and Yuta hadn’t lived together since he was 16 and you were 13, separated for reasons you still didn’t understand. The only time he’d visited you and your parents after he moved out had been for your high school graduation. You’d missed him a lot, but you kept in close contact online and over the phone, texting constantly and calling a few times a week with video calls sprinkled in. Despite the physical distance, your brother had become your best friend. When you told him you were planning to attend university in Tokyo, he was elated, talking about how he couldn’t wait to show you around and how excited he was to see you more often. He had kept his word, taking you all around the city during your first few weeks in Tokyo, handing you a key to his apartment, and telling you you were welcome over any time, even if he wasn’t home. He took you out to breakfast every Sunday morning and invited you over to watch movies every Wednesday evening. Your relationship thrived with the new proximity.

Moving in with your brother would allow you to connect as siblings in a way you missed out on growing up. Yuta also lived closer to campus than you did, meaning you wouldn’t have to take the train. You liked your current roommates well enough, but they always had people over when you were studying and rarely cleaned their messes in the kitchen. Yuta was tidy and quiet. And finally, you were broke. Undergrad was expensive, the city was expensive, and grad school wouldn’t be cheap either. Yuta was willing to let you move in rent-free, declining your offer to at least pay utilities.

“I don’t need my baby sister’s money,” he’d said with a smile and finality that shut down any argument you tried to conjure.

You’d accepted the offer and moved in about a month ago. Living with Yuta was as easy as breathing. He was a courteous and generous roommate. He did his share of the chores and often offered to help you with your own. He brought you coffee and snacks while you studied. He carried the bags when the two of you went grocery shopping.

And he was fun. Almost every moment the two of you spent together was full of laughter. You and Yuta cooked dinner together every night you were both home, talking and joking about your days. You weren’t sure what Yuta did for work; he’d always been vague, but you figured it had something to do with the government. But you enjoyed his stories about his coworkers and their antics. And Yuta seemed just as invested in your stories about your friends and daily life. He asked questions and remembered names and offered advice.

The only thing you didn’t feel comfortable talking with your big brother about was your love life. Talking to Yuta about guys just felt like crossing an unspoken line. It’s not like much was going on in that aspect of your life anyway; you were too busy with school to seek out new people. Once in a while, one of your friends would set you up on a date with someone. You didn’t mind their meddling; you knew it came from a good place, and they were good judges of character. However, you had yet to hit it off with any of these match-ups. There just wasn’t that spark. So when your friend told you she’d met someone in her Econ class that would be perfect for you, you were a mix of skeptical and excited. After some persuading, you agreed to go out with Mr. Econ.

Now you stood in the entryway, checking yourself in the mirror a final time and looking through your purse to check that you had everything.

“Oh, are you going somewhere? I thought we were watching a movie tonight?” You turned to see your brother putting dishes in the sink.

“Oh, Yu, I’m so sorry. I totally forgot. I have a date tonight, so–”

“A date?” Yuta turned to face you with a raised brow, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Yeah, my friend set me up with a guy from her class. We’re going for drinks.”

“You’re meeting a man you’ve never met for drinks? And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Yuta, please don’t pull the big brother act. I’m an ad–”

“It’s no act. I am your brother. It’s my job to look out for you.”

“My location is on. I’ll text you when I get there and am on my way home. Deal?”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? Yuta, you can’t ju–”

“I require a hug before I let you leave,” he said simply as a boyish grin spread over his lips. You fought your own smile as you walked into his open arms. You sighed as you felt his strong arms squeeze you tight.

“Be safe. Call me if you need me to come get you, yeah?” Yuta whispered in your ear, swaying you a bit as he spoke.

“I will, I promise,” you said as you detangled yourself from his arms. You returned your focus to the mirror, straightening your top before grabbing your keys.

“Wait. Do you need a condom?”

“W-what?”

“A condom. Let me go grab you one–”

“No!”

“What do you mean no? You can’t–”

“No–I mean, I already have some. Yuta, never say that word again,” you said as fire burned in your cheeks and ears.

“Condom.”

“I’m leaving.”

“I love you,” he called when you opened the door.

“Love you too.”

You were back home in a little over an hour. You couldn’t hold back your sigh as you reentered the apartment and removed your shoes. You didn’t hear the TV in the living room; Yuta must’ve forgone watching the movie by himself and went to his room. You felt a pang of guilt at that. You should’ve stayed home and watched a movie with your big brother instead of going out with an idiot business major who just wanted to fuck. You walked over to Yuta’s bedroom door and knocked.

“Yu, just letting you know I’m home,” you called out. You heard shuffling on the other side of the door, opening a few seconds later to reveal your shirtless brother. His brow was furrowed in concern as he looked down at you.

“You said you’d text when you were on your way back. It’s still early. Did something happen?”

“No, he was just an ass. I’m going to go take my make-up off. We can still watch that movie if you want.”

“What’d he do?” Yuta asked with a hardness in his voice that you’d never heard before. You turned to face him and were met with dark blue eyes boiling with fury. You were grateful to know that his rage wasn’t directed at you; the look on his face was bone-chilling.

“Nothing, we just had different definitions of the term ‘date.’”

“What does that mean?”

“He just wanted to fuck. I didn’t, so I left.”

“Oh, thank God. I don’t like the idea of you having sex,” he said with a relieved sigh.

“I’m a fucking adult, Yuta. I can have sex if I want to. Though lucky for you, sex sucks,” you said hotly, turning on your heel to leave. You loved him, but Yuta had a way of getting under your skin. Your retreat was halted by his hand grabbing yours. You turned to face him; a look of confusion splayed across his features again.

“Now, what do you mean by that?”

“Yu, I really don’t want to discuss my sex life with you. I’d actually rather die.”

“Hey, you can’t just drop that tidbit and not elaborate,” he said, maintaining his firm grip on your hand.

“Yuta…”

“I’m not going to judge you. You can tell me about anything, you know that,” Yuta said with soft eyes. He tugged lightly on your hand, guiding you into his room. He gestured for you to sit on the bed while he sat in his desk chair. You sat down, suddenly finding Yuta’s spotless bedroom floor captivating.

“What’s so bad about sex?” he asked gently. You knew that if you looked at him, he’d be making those puppy dog eyes that always had you spilling your guts to him.

“Me. I’m not good at it, so I don’t like it.”

“Not good?”

“I’ve never…y’know.”

“Never what?”

“I’ve never finished, okay?”

“You’ve never cum before?”

“I do when I’m by myself. I just can’t with other people for some reason. I’m fucking broken. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go die in a hole.”

“Do not be embarrassed,” Yuta said firmly as he stood and crossed the room to kneel before you. He took your chin in his hand and guided you to look him in the eye.

“You are not broken. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s not your fault if you’ve only been with partners who don’t know how to satisfy you.”

Something in Yuta’s reassuring tone forced the damn to break. Tears spilled from your eyes as you fought back the lump in your throat. A sob racked your body as Yuta joined you on the bed and wrapped you in his arms before he lifted you into his lap. He rubbed slow circles on your back as you cried and placed a kiss on your hair.

After a few minutes, your tears subsided enough for you to speak.

“I’m sorry, Yuta, this isn’t your problem,”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetie. You’re hurting, and that is my problem.”

“There’s nothing you can do about it, though.”

“Who said that?”

“What?” you asked, raising your head to look at your brother.

“I can help you.”

“How?”

“I can make you cum.” Yuta said with the same smile and finality he had when he convinced you to move in with him.

“No, you can’t. You’re my brother, Yuta.”

“And it’s my job as your brother to take care of you. Let me help you. Let me show you how sex is supposed to be.”

“It’s not right, Yu. We can’t.”

“Just once. No one will know. I want you to know what it’s like to feel good. You deserve to feel good.”

“...Just once?”

“Yeah, only tonight.”

“I trust you, Yuta,” you said, meeting his eyes of your own accord.

Yuta’s kiss was so gentle it almost brought tears back to your eyes. His lips slotted against yours with hesitance, like he expected that at any moment, you would bolt from his lap, out the door, and out of his life forever. But you knew you wouldn’t. You couldn’t deny how handsome your big brother was, how you adored his deep blue eyes and full lips, how enamored you were with his size, his large hands and broad shoulders. You couldn’t deny how much you wanted him right now. You deepened the kiss, grazing your tongue over his lips, coaxing him to let you in. He opened up to you, allowing you to explore his mouth.

Yuta shifted you in his lap so that you were straddling him, large hands gripping your waist. You grinded down on him as you laced your fingers through his dark hair. You pulled gently, eliciting a soft moan from the man below you.

“Fuck, I could kiss you all night, baby. You taste so good. But I gotta make you cum. Wanna taste you somewhere else,” Yuta whispered against your lips. You felt your core pulse at his words.

“Take this pretty dress off for me and lay down,” he ordered after giving your lips a final peck. You did as you were told, slowly unzipping your dress and letting it pool at your feet. You stepped out of the fabric and climbed back onto the bed, resting your head on the pillows.

Yuta joined you on the bed, settling at your feet. He took hold of both of your ankles and gently pulled them apart, spreading your legs. You could see the desire burning in his eyes as they made contact with the crotch of your panties. Your face heated as you imagined the growing wet spot forming there. Before you could close your legs out of embarrassment, Yuta moved forward to brush his fingers over your clothed cunt.

“You’ve been torturing me, baby, parading around in these cute little panties. Been haunting my dreams with them. Gonna let me take ‘em off, let me see your pretty pussy?” He asked, almost begging. You nodded your consent, and Yuta placed a kiss on your covered clit before pulling your damp panties off. He stifled a moan at the sight of strings of slick clinging to the fabric as he delicately removed the garment.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, breath fanning over your now-bared pussy. You watched as he tucked your panties in his pocket, and you felt your face warm even more at his actions. You gasped as you felt Yuta’s warm mouth wrap around your clit. He sucked gently before circling it with his tongue.

“Yuuuutaaaa,” you moaned at the unfamiliar yet extremely pleasant sensation.

“Has anyone ever done this for you before baby?” he asked, voice thick with lust.

“N-no, no one,” you admitted, eager to feel his lips on you again.

“Good. Such a good girl, saving the first taste of this pussy for your big brother. So fucking sweet, baby,” he praised before diving back into your cunt. He lapped at your slit, collecting your slick on his tongue. You whined at the feeling and the lewd sounds his mouth on your pussy produced. His tongue moved back to your clit, swirling around it before latching his lips around it. His fingers found their way to your slit, sliding one inside as he continued to suck your clit. He moaned at the tightness of your heat around his finger. It was hard for him to believe that anyone or anything had breached your walls before this moment based on the vice grip they had around him.

He worked his finger in and out of your heat steadily as he continued to suck and lick at your clit, relishing in the sounds of your moans and whines. After a minute or so, Yuta slipped another finger inside you, smiling against your clit at the mewl you let out at the addition.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby. I’ve gotta prep you for me, okay? Gotta get you ready so you feel good, alright?” He cooed from between your legs. You nodded in understanding, desire pooling at your core. You heard Yuta tsk from his position below you.

“Need you to use your words, pretty girl. You gotta use your voice for me.”

“O-okay. Wanna feel good, please, don’t stop!”

“That’s my girl. I’m gonna give you another finger, m’kay? You’re doing so well, pretty,” Yuta encouraged as he added a third finger, mouth returning to your clit with vigor. He was now determined for you to cum, to show you everything that you’d been missing. Everything he could give you. He fucked his fingers into you at a steady but deliberate pace. His mouth latched onto your clit, suckling firmly, using your moans and whines as a guide to how to pleasure you, how to pull more sounds from you, how to fill your brain with thoughts of him, him, and nothing else.

“Yuta, Yuta! Cumming!” you squealed out, toes curling and back arching off the bed at the sensation of your orgasm beginning to roll over you. Yuta doubled his efforts, rolling his tongue over your clit as his fingers picked up the pace. One deep thrust of his fingers led to you practically screaming as you squirted all over your big brother’s face. Yuta couldn’t help his beaming smile as he removed himself from between your thighs as you finally settled from your high.

“I am so sorry! I-I’ve never done that before. Please don’t be mad!” You begged as you took in his damp lips and chin.

“Mad? Baby, why would I be mad? That was so fucking hot. Wanna make you do it again. Come here, give me a kiss. Want you to taste yourself, yeah?” You obliged, rising from the bed to meet your brother halfway. Your lips slotted against his and you marveled at the taste of yourself. You opened up your mouth for Yuta’s tongue to explore, more of your flavor exploding on your tongue at the intrusion. After a moment of sloppy making out, he finally pulled back to smile at you.

“See how good you taste? Such a perfect girl.”

“Did I do good, Yuu?” you ask almost innocently, and Yuta wonders if you planned this, planned to seduce him tonight, planned you make his darkest, filthiest dreams come true. There was no way you were this perfect, this pure and trusting all for him. But looking in your eyes he could see the sincerity, the self-doubt, the need for approval. It made his already hard cock throb with need.

You let out a yelp as Yuta practically tackled you to the bed, pinning you down with his legs on either side of yours and his arms forming a cage around your head. His face hovered over yours, an indiscernible look of intensity in his eyes.

“You did perfect, sweetheart. Fuck, feel that baby? That’s what you do to me,” he said as his hips bucked against yours, grinding his bulge against your soaked core. You moaned as he continued to hump against you like a teenager, bringing your legs to wrap around his hips in an attempt to bring him closer. After several moments, he pulled away, untangling your legs from around his waist.

“Think you’re ready, sweetheart? Wanna give you my cock, want you to cum on it. Think you can?”

“Wanna try, Yuu, need your cock so bad,” you confessed, longing for the feeling and heat of him against you again. You heard him swear as he reached for the waistband of his sweats, yanking them down with his boxers. He quickly pulled them off, abandoning them on the floor with your dress. You let out a gasp when you finally saw his bare cock. It was the biggest you had ever seen in person, and it was so pretty it made your mouth water.

“A-are you sure it’s gonna fit?” you asked hesitantly.

“We’ll make it, yeah? You’re a big girl, you can take it,” he said reassuringly as he took his cock into his hand, stroking it slowly. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the motion, drool pooling in your mouth at the sight. Yuta approached you again, framing your body with his own.

“Where’s that condom you were talking about?”

“Purse.”

“That’s too far,” he said resolutely, reaching over to his nightstand and opening the drawer. He pulled out a square of gold foil and brought it to his mouth before slamming the drawer closed. You watched as he ripped the packet open with his teeth, catching the rubber in his open palm. He spit the wrapper out, and you watched as it fluttered towards the floor. Yuta rocked back onto his heels, sheathing his cock in the condom before returning to cage your body with his.

“I’m gonna put it in now, okay?” he asked as he lined himself up with your slit.

“Yeah, ‘m ready,” you said, feeling the head of his cock press against your opening.

Slowly, Yuta sank into your heat, moaning at the tightness that enveloped him. You whined along with him, the stretch of him burning beautifully as he filled you. You’d never felt so full, so complete. After what felt like ages, he finally bottomed out inside you.

He remained still, giving you time to adjust to the fullness, but you soon grew impatient, rocking your hips down.

“You can move Yuu, want you to.”

That was all the encouragement he needed to begin thrusting into you. Shallow at first, before pulling further out only to fuck into you even deeper. Yuta was perfect, fucking you deep and steady, using his free hand to toy with the nipple that wasn’t in his mouth. You were quickly overstimulated by the feeling of his mouth, cock, and fingers. All you could do was whine combinations of your brother’s name and curses as he fucked you into the mattress.

“You take my cock so fucking well, baby. I was born for you, this dick was made just for you,” he growled against your chest, punctuating his point with a especially deep thrust.

“Love your cock, Yuta! Feels so good!”

“Fuck yeah baby, ready to cum f’me?”

“Yes, yes, wanna cum!” you proclaimed as you felt his hand move from your nipple to your clit. He began rubbing tight circles around the bud as his hips moved relentlessly against yours. He pulled his lips off your nipple with a pop, moving up to kiss your hungry lips.

“Such a good girl for me, such a perfect little sister, letting your big brother fuck your tight little pussy. Gonna let me do it again yeah? Not gonna be satisfied after one time, are you?” He whispered against your lips.

“No, want this all the time, feels so good Yuta! Never stop, ‘m so close, so close!”

“Come on, you can do it. Squirt all over your big brother’s cock baby! Make a mess, make a fucking mess all over me!” he urged, rubbing your clit faster as his thrusts gained speed. His dirty mouth sent you over the edge, the tight band of pleasure in the pit of your tummy snapping. You gushed on Yuta’s cock with a shriek, eyes seeing white as you came. You could barely hear his chants of “Good girl!” as he chased his own high. His hips stuttered and jerked as you milked him, finally stilling as he released his load into the piece of latex that separated you two.

He lowered his damp forehead to rest against yours and the two of you caught your breath. After a few minutes, he pulled out and rolled from on top of you to lay beside you, wrapping you in his strong arms. You cuddled into them without a second thought, relishing in his warmth and protection. You both remained silent the whole time until you felt him take a deep breath.

“Do you…do you regret what we just did?” Yuta asked in a small voice.

“...No. Not even a little bit.”

“Thank god. We don’t have to do it again, I just wanted to make sure th–”

“What if I want to?”

“Huh?”

“What if I want to do it again?” you asked, adjusting so that you could look into his eyes.

“Then you’re gonna have to stop going on dates with shitty men.”

“Done. You’re the only man I need.”

#🩵: writing #jjk x reader #jjk smut #yuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #angelshubnetwork #ghostqueues #yuuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuta #yuta okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu #okkotsu yuuta #🩵: yuta

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 1 year

Text

A Good Fit**

Brother's best friend trope! I'm really, really happy with this one! I was inspired by the picture above. I was also stoned when I started this so it’s very horny 🫠

Warnings: Cheating, female masturbation, age gap (7yrs), dirty talk, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, choking/breathplay, slight degradation, size kink.

WC: 8.3K

Unfortunately for Harry it wasn’t uncommon that you show up at his place after you’ve had a fight with your boyfriend. So when he heard the knocks on the door he knew it was you from the call you had made earlier from a random number and you asked him if he could send you an uber since your phone was dead. He hurried over and let you in. And as he took your appearance in you didn’t look sad you just looked angry.

“Hey, you alright?” He asked and you exhaled sharply and nodded.

“I am now. Just…needed to get out of there.” You said and he nodded.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“After? I just need to think for a bit. Do you mind if I shower and borrow something to sleep in?”

“Not at all, come on.” He said and guided you through his apartment, “F’you need anything else just shout for me.”

“Yeah, thank you Har.”

“Course.” He hummed before he shut the door to the bathroom and headed off to the kitchen to make some tea.

Harry knew your family because of your older brother. When he did an exchange program during his undergrad years Harry’s family was his host family and they quickly became friends. Then, Harry came to the states for grad school and to work so he was roommates with your brother for about 4 years, which is when you and your family met him. And well that leads to the present! At the end of your 3rd year of university you got offered a spot in a very lucrative and once-in-a-lifetime international cohort and internship opportunity for your final year, and that’s why you moved to London last July. The only reason your parents even allowed you to do this was because they knew someone in London now, that was Harry. He had just turned 30, like your brother, and well your parents knew that you guys got along and that he was a nice guy so they felt comfortable letting you go alone knowing that he was nearby.

Harry was a really cool guy, but despite that you intended to steer as far away from his as possible because you didn’t need a babysitter. You were 23, soon to be 24! But when the homesickness started to hit you sought him out and he was always so welcoming and comforting and sweet. He knew this shop where they’d sell American treats, he’d take you there sometimes even though it was quite far away, since he had a car. And when you’d be sick or feeling under the weather he’d make you food and bring you medicine…he looked after you and soon you started to spend more time with him. He was actually the reason why you even started dating your boyfriend, Charlie. Charlie was 31, handsome, mature, had a great job…he was really romantic and detail oriented, he just did anything he could to make you happy and for a while things were really, really good. But over the last few months he has been so awful, picking fights for no reason, starting to get aggressive out of no where, flaking on you or just going unheard of for days at a time. The party tonight was a colleague’s birthday party and he had invited you to make up for a fight you’d had earlier in the week over some naked pictures he had recently saved of some girl on his phone. You had a feeling that he was cheating or that something big was off for a while so tonight, when you caught a glimpse of him slipping into a room with that girl from the pictures on his phone you just decided to leave.

You had just finished explaining this to Harry as you sat across from him at his kitchen island in his big, baggy t-shirt and a pair of striped briefs. You hadn’t even touched your tea as you ranted about how awful he had been all week.

“Date older! They said…they’re more mature…s’a bunch of BS.” You finished with a huff.

“Yeah, unfortunately older doesn’t necessarily mean wiser…” he said softly, “I’m sorry all that happened. You do deserve better.”

“I know I do, that’s why I’m not gonna cry about it.”

“Well if you feel like crying you should.” He said and you smiled and shook your head.

“No, I don’t feel sad. That’s the weird thing, like I just feel…stupid I guess for not…snapping out of this sooner.” You explained, “Like…” you stoped to lick over your lips and snigger, “I’ve praised this guy up and down as if he fucking hung up the sun and moon and bragged about him to my parents and when they come for graduation in 2 weeks he’s not even gonna be around!” You sniggered with embarrassment, “God, I’m such a fucking mess.” You groaned as you covered your face with your palms and he huffed.

“Hey, none of that. You’re not stupid and you’re not a mess. You’re just…young.” He said with a little shrug and you pouted a bit.

“OK why do you say it in a condescending manner though?” You asked and he sighed.

“Y/N, I’m not. I’m just saying that…when you’re young you don’t…you just don’t have any foresight sometimes. Like your brain isn’t even fully developed yet!” He argued factually and you crossed your arms with a scoff.

“So you are saying I’m stupid.”

“No! God, stop putting words in my mouth!” He said back with a flustered laugh and you were not sure what was so amusing about this, you were getting upset at him now.

“I’m not! I’m just trying to figure out what it is you’re implying by telling me that I’m just young and have an underdeveloped brain!” You nearly shouted and he sighed.

“Keep it down, please. I have neighbors.” He warned and you looked at him expectantly and he tutted, “I’m just trying to say that you’re a little…naive.” He finished and you looked at him like he was insane.

“I’m not naive, Harry.” You said and he looked at you like you had grown another head, “I’m not naive!” You said louder.

“Raising your voice doesn’t make what you’re saying correct.” He said calmly and you were boiling over with rage. You knew he wasn’t being smug about it or anything but he clearly was about to school you if you kept pushing this argument. But you were also very certain that he had you all wrong.

“Then stop calling me naive!”

“I don’t know why you think that’s such an awful thing, Y/N. You’re young, you’re supposed to be naive like…I don’t see the problem.”

“The problem is that naïveté implies that someone is clueless! And I’m not clueless!”

“Not about everything, but there are just things that you do that…show your age.” Is all he said and you pouted.

“OK, like what?”

“Like you dating an older man because he’s gonna be “more mature”, like please, Y/N! Age really is just a number.” He stated with a dry and obvious tone and you scoffed at him, “Or like a few weeks ago when he asked you for money and you gave him, a grown ass man, your money and then had to ask me for rides because you couldn’t reload your tube pass!” He said.

“His car got towed and he lost his wallet!” You defended.

“What kind of mature, responsible man gets so fucking shit faced that he looses his car and his wallet?” Harry asked and you just bit the inside of your cheek as you glared at him, “And you found naked pictures on his phone a few days ago and didn’t end it then?” He questioned.

“Maybe I misinterpreted things or-”

“Or maybe you just turn a blind eye to logic and go against your better judgement because you’re too caught up in whatever illusion he’s weaved for you that you doubt your instincts. That proves that you are naive and imprudent and that, more than anything else, just shows how young you are.” He said. The way you were looking at him kind of blankly made him nervous, maybe he had taken this too far, but it just frustrated him that you chose these things for yourself when you were far more intelligent than that. You pushed reason aside for fun sometimes and it was getting you hurt, which was very imprudent of you, and he wanted that to stop. He wanted you to stop doing this to yourself.

“God, why couldn’t you have told me this sooner!” You groaned with irritation as you crumbled up the napkin he laid out for you and tossed it at his chest. He glanced down at where you hit him with the paper and then back to you with a relieved smile.

“I just…didn’t want to overstep. Like what you choose to do is not my business to meddle in you know. And I get that some people just…learn the hard way. Like when I was younger the last thing I wanted was for someone slightly older to try and give me advice or something when like…experiences will help you learn too and-”

“Jut because you were like that when you were young it doesn’t mean I am.” You interrupted him with a smug smile and he smiled as well.

“Yeah, I…can see that now.” He said softly and you bit your lip as he just looked in your eyes for a bit more. It was making you feel concerned and small under his scrutiny but then he just looked away and shook his head, “Well, I’m gonna get back to bed, but if you need anything just knock or intrude or whatever.” He said and you just nodded dumbly as he started to leave the kitchen.

As soon as he left you shifted in your seat and then froze at the feeling of you completely drenched in his briefs. Yes, Harry was so nice to look at but you had always kind of seen him as like another older brother. Yeah, you’d had a saucy dream or two of him, but it’d never been more than that, it had never been whatever was suddenly going on in your panties. You shifted a bit in your seat and pressed your hips down and your bit your lip at the friction of the rounded edge of the high stool rubbing right against your slit. You wriggled around a bit to try and get some friction right on your clit and right when you found the position you couldn’t help the soft gasp that left your mouth as you started to hump against it a little harder. One of your hands was gripping the counter and then other the edge of the stool as you ground yourself against it a bit more, your eyes screwed shut as you focused on the feeling of the material of Harry’s briefs starting to stick to your pussy the more you humped against the stool. You started to grunt breathily as the pleasure inside of you started to build and blossom. Suddenly you felt two big hands on your hips, stopping your movements and you gasped in surprise.

“Imprudent.” Harry’s husky voice tickled at the shell of your ear, “See. You don’t have any foresight. You don’t think of the consequences of your actions.” He said and you swallowed thickly, “I mean, did you even stop to think that you’re in my flat? Humping your little pussy on my furniture?” He questioned and you shook your head, “Didn’t think so.” He said, “What’s got you so worked up anyway that you didn’t even have the decency to wait to get into bed?”

“I don’t know. After you left I w-was gonna put this in the sink and I…I was so wet.” You confessed. Mentally you were begging that he’d do something to you. Anything, you’d take anything. Harry smirked at your confession.

“A little degradation kink perhaps…” he said and your arms became covered in goosebumps, “Did you even know until now?” He asked and you shook your head.

“No. I didn’t even think that I would-”

“Get so wet while I insulted your intelligence?” He asked and you nodded and swallowed thickly. He didn’t ask, you just suddenly felt his hand release your hip only for him to wedge it between your legs. You sighed in relief as he felt how soaked in your arousal the thin material of his briefs were, “Fuck.” He groaned, “If there’s anything good about being young it’s this.” He said as he rubbed your sticky mess into you, you were holding as still as possible, still in shock that this was happening, “Young pussy get’s so fucking wet.” He sighed as he nipped at your earlobe, you were covered in goosebumps, “It keeps getting wetter and wetter the more you play with it.” He hummed in amusement, “Should I keep playing with it?” He asked and you nodded quickly and he smirked, “Tell me then.” You huffed.

“Harry-”

“Don’t whine. Tell me you want me to touch and play with your pussy.” He breathed out and you whimpered, “Please, babygirl. I need to hear you say it, been dying to hear you say it for ages.” He breathed out hard against you.

“Please, touch my pussy. I need you to touch me.” You whimpered and he sighed in relief before turning you around hoisting you up onto the counter. His eyes met yours and the look in them was dark, his pupils were enlarged, and his breathing ragged.

“You’re sure about this?” He asked and you shook your head with a smile.

“No. Are you?” You whispered as his hands ran up and down your thighs and he smiled back.

“No. But I…want to. It’s just…your brother would kill me. Like I’m totally betraying his trust.” He said and you smiled.

“Yeah, he’d be pretty pissed. I like to piss him off though, it’s fun.” You said and bit your lip as he shook his head at your antics, “Don’t give me that, you’re the baby brother, you know how gratifying it is to get under your sibling’s skin.” You said.

“Yeah when I was a child.” He emphasized with a grin and you hummed.

“Then…do it for yourself. After all, you’ve been waiting to play with my pussy for ages, right?” You asked coyly and he chuckled nervously, “How long, hmm?” You asked softly as you draped your arms over his shoulders to minimize the space between you two. He let it diminish as he glanced up in your eyes, “How long, Harry?” You asked again, more pointedly this time and he sighed as his fingers dug into your thighs.

“At mine and your brother’s graduation party. I went inside to get more pool towels and when I passed by the laundry room I heard you and your boyfriend in there. You didn’t fully close the door and I…saw him, very briefly, fingering you.” He said as you smirked, “You sounded so pretty, I just wanted to get in there and make you feel a lot better. Knew I could’ve made you feel better than him.” He confessed and you smiled, you didn’t even remember that happening until he brought it up. You had just finished your first year of college then.

“Really think you could’ve done a better job?” You asked and he almost looked at you in offense.

“I know so. Also know that prick Charlie wouldn’t stand a chance against me.” He stated confidently and you smiled as you just took him in. He really was gorgeous, you’d talked yourself out of crushing on him a lot, especially when you were younger…but now with him so close to you…with his hand having been between your legs…with the very obvious bulge of his boner grazing your right inner thigh everything you had done to not have those feelings for him was completely ruined. You wanted him, you wanted him so fucking bad.

“Show me then.” You said and he looked over your eyes again, “I know we probably shouldn’t but I need it. I need you so badly.” You said softly and he hummed in contemplation. He wanted this too, so badly…his cock was so hard for you. He wanted to show you what he could do; he wanted you to think about it and him between your legs and to get drenched like you were now every time the memory resurfaced, which he would make sure was a lot. This was his one and only chance…

“Just this once.” He decided and you nodded.

“Yeah, just once.”

“Here or in my bedroom?” He asked and you nodded.

“The room if that’s OK. I’ll even go to the guest bedroom after, I promise.” You said and he didn’t wait another moment before he pulled your face in and kissed you. It was sloppy and needy and so fucking desperate that it was making your body even more aroused for him. You loved how big his hands felt on you. You knew he was strong and he could do anything he wanted to you and something about that gave you relief.

“Hold on tight.” He muttered before picking you up and carrying you the short distance to his bedroom. He kicked the door shut once he made it through the threshold and carefully dropped you onto his bed. You almost moaned just from feeling the bed beneath you, it was so big and soft and cuddly. You never wanted to get up! “Get naked.” He said and you sat up in the dark and tore off his shirt and his briefs, you then hugged your legs to your chest to cover yourself a bit as you waited for him. You could barely make him out standing at the side of the bed, suddenly the side lamp flicked on, “I need to see, want to remember you.” He said as he turned to you again, “Show me your body.” He said softly and you slowly let go and then laid down on his bed. His eyes took in your face, your chest, your stomach, your hips, your labia… but he wanted more, “Open your legs f’me, spread them. Show me your little pussy.” He instructed and you nervously started to part your legs as he started to kneel. He wanted to be face level with your pussy, “Fuck, look at you. Such a pretty little thing.” He huffed and your skin rose with goosebumps, “Can already see you dripping.” He chuckled breathily.

“M’so wet for you, Harry.” You whispered and he hummed.

“I know, babygirl. Show it all to me, hold yourself open for me.” He said as he glanced up into your eyes and you felt your fingers tense, you were feeling nervous and timid, “Go on, babygirl. You can’t be shy about this if you weren’t shy about humping my stool in the open kitchen.” He said and you groaned.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down are you?” You asked breathily.

“Nope.” He confirmed smugly. He was very pleased with you when you brought your hands down between your legs and held your labia apart. He couldn’t help but lick his lips and salivate at the sight of your exposed and spread pussy. It was small and cute, your little clit was swollen and he was aching to suck on it. Then your tight little entrance…it was making him feral. His cock would definitely stretch you open and leave you with a memorable ache; an ache he knew you wanted. He watched your little hole pulsing in perfect time with his heartbeat. He couldn’t help himself as he delved into your pussy tongue first.

“H-harry!” You gasped as he groaned against you and stuffed his tongue inside of you as far as he could. You were squirming until he held your thighs open and started thrusting his tongue in and out of your entrance. You were so sensitive right there and it made you whimper when he started to just lick at and over your hole.

“Hold yourself open for me.” He mumbled as he reared back and then he spat against your pussy. You dropped your head back into the bed as he started to lick you up from top to bottom, he was avoiding your clit though and it was making you go insane. Every part of your pussy was being toyed with except where you were desperate for his touch. He knew what he was doing though as he chuckled and said something about it throbbing. You didn’t need to see it to believe it, you could feel it throbbing steadily.

“Harry, please! Please make me come!” You keened, “Please, please, please, please.” You whimpered as he continued to suck and slurp and lave all over you until finally, he started to mercilessly flick at your clit with the tip of his tongue. Your legs almost immediately started to shake and you dug your fingers into his hair, “Oh fuck!” You cried out. But as soon as he started to suck at your clit you lost all ability to speak. All you could do was gasp and shriek and mutter incoherent nonsense as each little slurp and suckle pulled you closer and closer into orgasmic bliss. When you started to wind up you tugged hard on Harry’s hair and he groaned against you.

“More.” He grunted and so you did it again, harder and his moans only added to your pleasure. He was so consistent, staying at the perfect pace until you started to come undone. Your back arched as you tried to kick him away with your shaking legs, but he was holding them down harshly and sucking and licking you until you had completely withered.

“Oh shit…” you sighed in contentment and just as you had begun to relax your body tensed back up when he nipped at your clit. He held you down as the stimulation continued until you were trembling and coming beneath him and crying out for him to stop. But he didn’t stop yet. It was hard to breathe and your head was spinning as he pulled you through yet another orgasm, you felt so out of sorts as your legs twitched and you hiccuped for a proper breath.

“Fuck…y’just taste so good, babygirl.” His words vibrated against your throbbing cunt and made you wince, “S’alright. I know it’s sensitive.” He hummed before kissing your inner thighs and then working his way up your body. His hands explored your dips and curves expertly and you raised your body to follow the movements of his hands along your skin. When he got to your breasts he was teasing with his mouth, winding you up until your already fucked out pussy was thrusting up, searching for his big bulge to rub against. You thought you were spent, but you needed so much more. Your lust for him kept growing and growing, it was consuming you entirely.

When his lips finally met yours again and his center aligned with yours you felt relief; he felt big, you had yet to see his cock but he was heavy against you and it was exhilarating. He ground himself against you, working himself up. There would surely be a big wet spot on his sweats but something told you he wouldn’t mind it. The way he was kissing you was communicating very clearly that he had indeed been waiting for a long time to have this opportunity with you.

“Please, Harry just do it.” You whined breathily, so impatient and eager to feel him.

“You were just begging me to stop. Make it make sense, baby.” He said with a smug grin and you wanted to slap it off his face but the way he looked in your eyes playfully and called you ‘baby’ made you reconsider. So instead of firing back some bratty retort you stayed quiet despite an evident pout overwhelming your features. “Don’t look at me like that, I’ll give it to you, just waiting a little bit.”

“For what?” You asked.

“Don’t you get so overwhelmed that you go a little numb? Read that can happen.” He asked with raised brows and you nodded.

“Yeah, a little bit…�� you said as you thought about it.

“Don’t want to be doing things just for the heck of it, want you to actually feel good when I…you know?” He said more timidly and you smirked at him.

“When you what?” You asked.

“What?” He questioned you.

“You said you want it to feel good when you…and then you trailed off into something else.” You teased and he shook his head with a bashful smile.

“You know very well what.”

“Oh come on, just say it. You can’t be all shy about it when you’re about to… you know?” You mimicked him with a grin and he rolled his eyes, “This isn’t instilling a lot of confidence in me…” you hummed.

“Oh please, you nearly passed out from my oral.” Harry countered and your facade broke as you nodded.

“True…excellent oral, by the way… probably the best I’ve ever received.” You mused and he smirked.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah actually, I’d never lie to you about that.”

“About my oral skills?” He asked with a smile and you nodded, “Well, I really enjoyed doing that to you too…probably also one of my favorite times.”

“Probably?” You asked in mock offense and he shrugged.

“Well I can’t tell you the truth! Knowing you, it’ll go straight to your head, s’already too big.” He said with a smile and you hummed.

“Speaking of big heads…” you said with a grin as you rubbed up against him and he chuckled through the little shock of pleasure he received when you ground up against his stiff and aching cock. “Can I touch you while we wait for the numbness to wear off?” You asked as you slowly let your fingers slither down his chest and then circle where you knew his butterfly tattoo was.

“Absolutely not.” He said and you glanced up into his eyes with a frown.

“Harry-”

“I will blow my fucking load in like 30 seconds, OK? I just need to calm down a little bit before I get inside of you.” He confessed and you smirked.

“Oh…”

“None of that smug shit.” He scolded.

“That’s all you do to me! Just be smug and clever and shit!” You reminded with a giggle and he smiled.

“You take it well, I don’t.” He pointed and you hummed smugly.

“Yeah, I take a lot of things well…” you slipped in a little innuendo just for the fun of it and he smiled down at you with a “really?” Look painted across his very handsome and chiseled face. “Well let’s talk about something not sexy to calm you down then.” You said and he hummed in agreement as he then laid beside you and you turned to face him. Your legs trapped one of his in between them and he looked a little concerned, “Don’t worry, I’m not like…trying to make this sentimental or anything I just like how like…how your body hair feels against me. Like it tickles and it’s just a sensory thing I suppose.” You shrugged and he hummed in understanding as you ran one of your legs along his. He kinda had a similar thing he supposed because he wanted to run his hands all over your legs, they were so soft and smooth under his touch.

“What were you gonna talk about before you got distracted by my leg hair?” He asked with a smile and you sniggered as you looked into his eyes.

“If you’ve wanted this for a while why haven’t you tried before?” You asked and he shrugged.

“I just figured that when I felt that way for you it was because you like looked hot that day or something, I never really gave my horny fantasies much weight, you know? But ummm… I think with you being around more and us getting better acquainted like…I’ve realized that I am actually physically attracted to you.” He admitted and you nodded in understanding, “Have you…wanted this before?”

“Ummm…no? I don’t know, really… I’ve always thought you were hot. And I’ve had a couple sex dreams about you though. So clearly, subconsciously, you’ve been on my “to do” list.” You smirked at your pun and he sniggered and shook his head.

“Are these recent dreams?”

“One of them, yeah.” You said and he hummed as he brought a hand to your hip and he let his fingers trace a little further back to your ass as he caressed you, “Oh, I think I’m having a deja vu.” You said and he chuckled.

“Really?” He asked and out of nowhere he smacked your ass hard and you laughed through a surprised shriek, “Liar. You didn’t see that coming did you?” He chuckled.

“Admittedly no. But do you want to know who I did see coming?” You asked with a teasing grin, “Rather prematurely, I must s-” you were cut off by your own laughter as Harry rolled on top of you and started to tickle your sides as you writhed around laughing and gasping for air until he stopped. It was then that you both noticed that one of his hands was laying on your sternum, limiting your intake of oxygen.

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright I don’t mind that…I mean it’s not typically where it goes but-”

“Is that better?” He cut you off as his hand slid up to your throat and squeezed at the sides just a little bit and you nodded as best as you could. You loved that slightly floaty feeling that came when you were choked. It made everything feel better, you came for longer, and way harder, “I like this too.” He hummed as he lowered himself now and then kissed you deeply. Your world was spinning as your mouths met eagerly and sloppily, you just wanted to taste any part of him that you could. You could tell that he wanted that too, but he was holding back somehow, you could just feel it inside that there was so much more to explore, “Fuck it if it’s fast, you’ll come. I promise you will.” He grunted and you grabbed his face.

“Also remember, I already came three times so asking for a fourth might be a little much.” You said realistically and he shook his head.

“I want you to come around my cock, Y/N. Need to feel you coming around me.” He said huskily and something told you that whether you intended to or not, you would be coming around his cock and that made you all the more excited. He hadn’t stretched you out at all and so the prospect of getting stretched around his cock was extremely arousing.

Harry rolled off of the bed to strip his top off and peel his sweats off of his body and your mouth watered at the look and size of him; of course he had a beautiful cock. Yeah, he was on the bigger end of things lengthwise, but what you knew would make it good was the girth of it. His cock was thick and heavy; it probably even looked bigger because of how lean and toned he was, but that didn’t bother you in the slightest. Your mouth watered as you watched him grab himself and stroke back his foreskin to expose the already leaking tip of his cock. After a few more strokes he pulled open the bedside drawer and before he could even search you reached out and stopped his hand.

“I have the shot and I’m clean.” You said and he glanced to you. “I am too and it’s not that I don’t trust you, we just really should use protection.” He said and you did look a bit disappointed at this but nodded.

“You’re right. Sorry if I-”

“It’s alright. Why don’t you want to?” He asked and you shook your head.

“Just wanted to really feel it all, you know? But it is reckless and-”

“Why don’t you want to use a condom, Y/N?” He asked you again more firmly but there was a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“I just told you!”

“Tell the truth.” he said and you swallowed thickly as he climbed back over your body and ground against you and you whimpered at his precum making your clit all sticky as it beaded out of his tip.

“I want to feel you come inside me.” You said softly, “It was in my dream and I just remembered that when you went to grab a condom.” You admitted and he grunted lowly as his eyes closed for a second, just processing the information.

“I can’t finish inside of you, Y/N.”

“I know.” You said with a huff and he mulled over his desires in his head.

“I’ll go bare but I’m gonna pull out though, OK?” He compromised and you nodded.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You agreed and he glanced down to where his cock rested over your core. He pushed through your folds once again and you both moaned softly at the wet sounds of your arousal-soaked skin gliding together. You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch this as well, you never wanted to forget this, not a single detail of it. You were so wet for him it was unreal. As soon as you positioned yourself to watch him tease your little cunt he stopped watching himself and just watched your face. You were hanging on by the thread. He started to guide himself down to your entrance and rubbed his tip against you, not pressing with enough pressure to try and stretch you open, but just to tease you and himself. Fuck, you were gonna be a snug fit, “D-do you think it’ll actually fit?” You asked as you glanced up at him and swallowed thickly. You asked because just feeling his head against your entrance made you question it because he hadn’t even stretched you out.

“It’ll fit.” He assured you, trying his best not to get too carried away that you thought his cock was so big it wouldn’t fit inside of you, “If not, we’ll make it fit.” He said as he looked at you and you bit your lip in response as a wave of excitement rushed through your body, “Does that turn you on?” He asked and you nodded, “Good babygirl, want you all bent out of shape for my cock.” He said lowly as he started to press his cock against your entrance and you whimpered as your entrance started to stretch around him to accommodate his size. You couldn’t look away as he gently prodded himself against you, coaxing your little hole open for him. It was driving you insane, you wanted him to just push it in, you could take it, you just needed to feel him inside.

“Har, just get it in.”

“Don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t care if it hurts, it’ll be fine after a little bit and-”

“I care if it hurts you.” He said and you huffed, “Patience, yeah?” He chuckled and you huffed and nodded as you just laid back instead. Watching him take his time was making you absolutely impatient.

“Yeah.” You said and he smiled. He loved how desperate you were for him, but also how he could reel you back in. You seemed to give in to him with such ease and it made him wonder if you were always like this or if this was just his effect on you. He could sleep with you again and verify…but this was a one time thing so he got that thought out of his mind immediately. After a few more goes you started to open up enough for him to push just the tip in.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.” You whispered and pressed yourself up again to watch it happen. It absolutely filled him with lust. He bit his lip hard as he added more pressure and your little hole parted and sucked him in, “Oh fuck!” You moaned and then glanced up at him to see his eyes already on yours.

Harry’s own mouth was hung open now as he struggled to breathe. You were so fucking warm and tight and wet for him. He was reeling as he started to shallowly thrust his tip into you over and over again. His abs were already tightening up. When you started to rub at your clit he groaned because you started to squeeze him.

“You’re so fucking tight, baby. Oh fuck…” he moaned lowly.

“More, please. I need more.” You whined as you fell back into the mattress and he nodded and started pushing more in, feeling you adjust as he went in deeper. This was even better than his first time, maybe because he had wanted this with you for so long, “Ohmygod.” You slurred your words and squeezed your eyes shut. You felt so stretched and full that you thought you might explode.

“Just a little more, babygirl. Just a little more and you’ll have it all inside.” He encouraged you softly with his words as he gently thrust in and out, coaxing you open around his cock with each slow but determined thrust. “Fuck yeah…” he grunted when he bottomed out without a warning and you gasped in shock at how your body just opened up, “Shit such a tight little cunt around my big cock. Told you I’d fit.” He moaned as he dipped down to hover over your face. Something about him acknowledging how big he was turned you on, “Fuuuck…such a good fit.” He panted with pleasure.

You were speechless, mind drawn a blank of everything except him and the pleasure of his cock consistently thrusting in and out of you. It was almost an out of body experience as you continued rubbing your clit as he collided with parts of you that you didn’t even know could make you feel good. It was making your breathing hitch and your legs squeeze around his hips.

“Faster?” He asked after you seemed to get used to the feeling of him and you nodded.

“And harder. Please, just a little harder.” You requested and he obliged immediately and a smile spread across your face as you tipped your head back in ecstasy, “Oh fuck, just like that, Harry!” You moaned and he chuckled, loving the sound of his name in the tone of your voice. His hips snapped harder into yours, the obscene sounds of your bodies meeting were so perfectly synched with the little grunts he’d let out when your centers collided. When you brought the fingers you’d been rubbing your clit with up to his mouth he opened up and sucked on them, wetting them some more before you put them back.

“Shit baby, you feel so good,” He smiled as he placed a hand on your throat and you smiled, “But it’s time to make you come.” He said and you nodded.

“Please make me come.” You whispered breathily and he snapped at your feeble request and started pounding into you like that was his only purpose in life. You squeaked out in surprise at the sudden burst of intensity, but you easily succumbed to the pleasure that started to spread from deep in your belly and to the rest of your body. Harry was overwhelmed with just how perfect you were for him, even into the same things he was into so far. He needed to make sure that he ruined you for anyone else. Selfishly, he wanted to be the man you compared everyone else to. He knew that boys your age couldn’t even compare and that got him off.

“Gonna ruin this little pussy.” He groaned and you moaned in response, “Want you dripping for me every time we see each other. Want you to have more dreams about me and my cock now that you’ve had it.” His words were muffled as he pressed his lips to your forehead. You were all his for tonight, just this one night and he was going to take full advantage of that. “Fuck babygirl, y’just feel so fucking good.” He groaned and started going harder. You moaned each time his cock buried itself inside of you until your legs were trembling, he started to squeeze around your throat and your head started to get all fuzzy as your eyes welled up with tears of pleasure.

“M’close! So close!” You gasped pitifully as you rubbed your clit faster.

“Yeah, I can feel it, babygirl.” He panted, “Come for me. All over my cock, need to feel it.” He muttered desperately. Your body started to tense up even more and your other hand scratched down his back in a desperate attempt to be a bit more grounded as your orgasm started to burst through you; you were squirting. This had never happened to you like this and it was otherworldly. You felt like you were transcending and your vision was going splotchy as you gasped for air that you didn’t have access to. Every part of you was tingling and as soon as you felt your core tighten up for the last time an involuntary and broken cry left your throat as you started to come. You were just moaning, no words were being formed, just sounds as the waves of pleasure started to ripple through you endlessly so it seemed. Harry removed his hand from your throat and bored his face against it, kissing you, tasting you there, milking the pleasure before he had to pull out of you.

“Fuck. Oh fuck…” he moaned lowly as he started to thrust faster, chasing his own released. Your legs crossed around his hips and pulled him deeper, which made you wince but he moaned into your throat at the hot and spongey spot that his tip was kissing with each desperate thrust.

“Please come inside me.” You whimpered and he practically whined against your sweaty skin.

“Baby-”

“Please, I want it so bad. Give it to me, please.” You begged. He really wanted to come inside of you. Make you his in every sense. He kissed your lips messily and nodded.

“Shit babygirl, I’ll give you my cum.” He panted and his steady rhythm started to falter and his breathing started to hitch, “Oh fuck, take it, babygirl. Take all my fucking cum.” He moaned desperately against your mouth as he started to unravel. You moaned as you felt each twitch of his cock inside of you. The wet sounds got louder and his thrusts got slower but rougher as he shot his load deep in your pussy, like you had asked. Your hands came up, one to his hair and the other to smooth over his back as he worked himself through it until his weight was slumped over you.

A silence overcame you both for several moments, you could not believe how incredible this had all been. You were reeling still, trying to recall little details that would be very useful for you in the future. You smiled dopily at the thought that Harry had done just what he’d set out to do, ruin you for anyone else. You felt him shift and then press himself up to be able to look at you.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly and you nodded before smiling.

“I’m very alright. Are you?” You asked and he grinned.

“Yeah. Never been better.” He assured and you giggled, “That was…really good. Wasn’t it?”

“Too good…” you said with a chuckle and he hummed as he looked you over once more and then looked away from your eyes timidly.

“Yeah…ummm, let me…get out.” He said and you laughed softly, “Just, squeeze a bit f’you can? I…cum a lot.” He said glancing up to you again.

“Of course you do…” you sighed before biting your lip and tightening up. You whimpered as he started to slip out.

“Oh shit.” He said and rushed off of the bed to grab his t-shirt from the floor and quickly placed it over your vagina, presumably to avoid getting it all on the bedding.

“You’re gonna have to change this anyway, I’ve already…you know.” You said timidly as he glanced up while cleaning you up a bit.

“You can’t possibly be all shy about anything while I’m literally collecting my sperm out of you.” He said and you giggled and just laid your head back down. You wanted him to lick you clean and well, he was thinking the same thing, but this was supposed to be a one time thing. If he tasted himself and you mixed together this way he would surely end up putting another load in your pussy, “OK, I think that’s all of it.” He said as he stood by with the t-shirt just in case.

“I’ll just go sit in the bathroom for a bit, should probably pee.” You said as you sat up and he nodded.

“Right.” He agreed as he moved to let you get off of the bed. You glanced at the ground to locate the shirt he had given you earlier, but you realized it was the one he had used to clean you up.

“Ummm, I’m gonna grab this one since that one’s-”

“Yeah, go for it.” He assured.

“And your sweats too since the briefs are…”

“Way too wet.”

“Right!” You said as you picked that up as well and covered your naked body as you started to walk towards his bedroom door, “Thank you for that. But also fuck you for that because, you know that was…unreal sex.” You chuckled as you opened the door and he grinned.

“Yeah. Fuck you too.” He said and you giggled before slipping out and closing the door.

You rushed into the bathroom when you felt more of his cum start to come out slowly with your movements. So you locked yourself in there and cleaned yourself up a bit more before sitting down to pee. You were panicking now as you thought of everything that had transpired. You ended up taking another body shower because you were sweaty. And as you rinsed off once again there were a lot of thoughts happening. But there was one huge and harrowing thought plaguing you and it was that there was no way this was the only time you guys could sleep together. That wouldn’t be fair, it was way too spectacular to be a one and done. Just the thought of it made you throb as you pulled his sweats up your body. You got the t-shirt on next and then sighed as you turned to the door and had another thought just as you swung it open to see him leaning on the wall directly across from the bathroom door; he was waiting for you.

“I have a boyfriend.” You verbalized your thought to him and Harry stepped up to you and grabbed your face in his hands with a grin.

“Fuck your boyfriend.” He said lowly, “And fuck the one time only thing. And fuck condoms. And fuck your brother’s rule. And fuck sleeping in the guest room.” You smirked at him and he was smirking right back at you, “Are you cool with that?” He asked.

“Yeah. Fuck all that.” You agreed quietly. You thought he was going to kiss you, but he didn’t.

“Let’s get to bed then.” He said instead and you nodded and he led you back into his bedroom. There was a new bedcover over some presumably fresh sheets and you both settled in and you smiled as he pulled your body against his. You had both fallen silent, just relaxing and getting used to whatever this was about to be and then his phone dinged loudly from his bedside table. “God damnit.” He huffed and let you go as he sat up and reached over you to grab it and silence it. But when he saw the text on the screen he almost laughed. “It’s him.” He said into the darkness and you sighed. He unlocked his phone and looked at the text, “He says: Hey man, just wanna know if you've heard from Y/N? Her phone is off? Or do you have any idea of where she might be?” He finished reading the message and you smirked.

“Gimme that.” You said and he gave you his phone, assuming you’d send him a message to throw him off that you two were together. But then you pressed on the little camera icon and he couldn’t help the satisfaction he felt seeping into every fiber of his body, “Say cheese.” You sang.

“Fuck that, just take it.” He said and you giggled and threw up a peace sign before snapping the picture and smiling at the result. He looked mad and threatening, which was perfect. Harry grabbed his phone back with a grin and then texted: Yeah man, she’s with me and it’s over with you. “How’s that?”

“Perfect.” You assured and he hummed as he sent it and then blocked his number before handing you his phone to put it back on the nightstand. You hummed happily as he wrapped his arm around you again. As you let his warmth envelope you, you smiled as you started to think about all of the great things that would surely come of this because Harry was absolutely right before, you two were a good fit.

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles au #bbf!Harry #harry styles fluff #Harry styles smutty one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #0nlythrowharrybeaux

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dfortrafalgar · 1 month

Text

I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Warnings: READ CHAPTER 1 FOR WARNINGS. This is the last chapter before shit starts getting real

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua

Chapter 5

[Prev] [Next]

Law’s work schedule kept him on his toes which he usually didn’t mind, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t just the slightest bit disappointed at having to miss the big announcement to Penguin and Shachi. You reassured your husband, however, and promised to send him the perfect video of the scene so he could view it on his down time at the hospital.

You moved two large, opaque containers on the kitchen counter in such a way that your phone could stand up against them, having them parted just enough so your camera could view the room from in between the jars. You faced the camera towards the kitchen table, where you had set up the chairs similar to an intense job interview. You had texted the two men in the morning to drop by your apartment at exactly noon without explaining why, and you started recording at 11:59.

The two men knocked at 12:01. Bepo barked once, a deep, bellowing boof that was less of a threatening display and more of an invitation to come in as long as he could immediately get scratched between the ears.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm your nerves, you briskly paced to the door and pulled it open, smiling at your two friends. Bepo forced himself between your legs, excited to greet his dog uncles.

“Hey, happy Sunday!” announced Penguin, pulling you in for a hug as if he hadn’t seen you in months. You laughed, hugging him back.

“Come in, sit at the table,” you ushered, quickly closing the door behind them. Bepo followed the two men directly on their heels until they sat at the kitchen table.

You sat directly across from them and folded your hands, resting them on the table. You stared at Shachi, then at Penguin, then at Bepo’s beady eyes trying to peer over the top of the table.

The silence was palpable, but you were barely containing your smile.

You had just opened your mouth to make the announcement when Shachi’s brown eyes went wide and he uttered, “You’re pregnant.”

Penguin stood up in a startled bolt. “WHAT?!”

“Shachi! I wanted to say it!” you chastised, but you really couldn’t care less. The excitement of even being able to tell your friends that, after countless months of trying to conceive, you had finally done it. “But, yes, I’m pregnant.” Your smile was all teeth, your eyes creasing. You were truly elated.

Shachi sprinted from around the table to scoop you into a hug. Penguin followed suit, squeezing you in between them as he cheered for you.

“I’m so happy for you, seriously so happy!” Penguin announced, his own smile reaching his eyes. “Oh my god, are we going to be uncles?”

You nodded. “Uncle Shachi and Uncle Penguin.”

Shachi squealed, a sound akin to a school girl getting a love letter from her crush. “We’re going to be uncles! Uncles, Penguin!”

“You know,” Penguin began, finally releasing you from his embrace. “I always thought that pregnancy announcements were kinda weird, like, ‘Hey, we fucked and procreated! Get hype!’ But now I can see why it’s so exciting.”

You felt your face warm with his words, but there was barely anything to hide from the two of them. Hell, back in your undergrad days Shachi walked in on you and Law actively having sex. Playing naive to the situation was simply juvenile.

Shachi was laughing. “Holy shit, this is seriously incredible. Do you know how far along you are?”

You shook your head. “Honestly, no. I can guess no more than four weeks, but I had to call my doctor again to inform them and get a quicker appointment, so I’ll find out more next week!”

The three of you, much to Bepo’s relief, settled down after that. You sneakily grabbed your phone from the counter, ending the video with a smirk, excited to send it to Law. Sitting back down, you began discussing the logistics of the matter.

“Trust me, Law and I have been thoroughly prepared for the day this might happen. He has a plan in place for every possible situation,” you explained. “If you want proof, I can get his notebook.”

The two men shook their heads in rapid succession.

“I believe you one hundred percent,” muttered Penguin. “That sounds like Law, all right.”

You laughed. “It’s definitely odd, but it makes me feel a lot better. I know at least one of us is at least slightly prepared for any potential situation. He has an entire page dedicated to our genetic history.”

Shachi snorted. “Are you serious?”

You nodded confidently. “Dead serious.”

Penguin leaned forward on his elbows, genuinely interested. “Any horrific genetic mutations?”

“A 25% chance of colorblindness if we have a son. How horrifying!” you stated, joking sarcastically at the prospect of a colorblind child, which, obviously, would not be life ruining at all.

Shachi scratched his chin. “Did Law get genetic testing? Considering, you know, the whole orphan thing.”

You nodded once more. “He actually got genetic testing a few years ago. He wanted to know if he was predisposed to degenerative diseases, so he got an entire genetic evaluation done.”

“He did that just because?”

“Yup.”

Penguin groaned. “That guy is so fucking weird sometimes.”

You chuckled. “He might be, but clearly having that information makes him a bit more secure! And at least we know he’s unlikely to develop muscle or neural degeneration when he gets old.”

“He’s rubbing off on you,” Shachi muttered.

“That’s what happens when you’re married to a doctor,” you groaned back.

Your conversation carried on for well over an hour, jumping from your pregnancy to the latest college basketball game that, according to Shachi, ended in an ‘upset so bad I swore I pissed my pants.’ The afternoon was flying by, and for the first time in months, you truly felt happy.

—

Law took a long sip of his lukewarm coffee as he hunched over his desk, computer in front of him with a long report only halfway done with being written. Earlier in the day, his unit had dispatched a child to the nearby children’s hospital with catecholaminergic polymorphic ventricular tachycardia that lead to near-heart failure, and, due to the fact that his hospital’s cardiology ward had yet to see such a case, Law was left to write the report.

His fingers were quickly starting to cramp up as his eyes consistently glazed over the words ‘adrenaline induced arrhythmia.’ He could almost feel himself start to nod off until his phone buzzed beside him. His face immediately lifted when his screen illuminated with your name and an incoming text message.

Wifey

Telling them went well, Im sending the video! Miss you, see you later tonight!!!

Wifey

Also, let me know if you want something for dinner, Im not in the mood to cook but I can get takeout for when you get home

Wifey

[One new Video message]

Wifey

Also, can you stop by the pharmacy and grab a small bottle of toilet cleaner on your way back??? Thank you, I love you!!! <333

Law smiled, reaching for his phone and unlocking it to open his texts and view the recording. His grin never ceased as he watched Shachi and Penguin, his two best friends since childhood, embrace you in pure excitement as you announced the incredible news. He truly felt so lucky to have those two in his life and have them welcome his wife into their little family as easily as they had done to Law all those years ago. Seeing the three of them interact made it seem like they had also been friends since 13 years old.

“Law, how’s that report coming along?” A sudden voice behind him made him close his phone and lay it face-down on the desk.

“Hey, Chopper, it’s… it’s going,” Law responded blankly.

The younger doctor, Dr. Tony, pulled up a seat alongside Law to scan the very rough draft of his colleague’s report. The kid (relative to Law’s self-described ‘ancient age’) was a genius by definition, whizzing through medical school at the top of his class and joining Law’s cardiology ward on his rotation before finally graduating residency and joining his unit as a permanent member. While he wasn’t a surgeon like Law was, he was an incredible asset in terms of diagnosing and effectively treating the various ailments presented to their team. The young doctor was a hidden master with pharmaceuticals, but liked treating patients in-person more than standing behind a lab counter compounding pills.

Law still had no idea where he got the nickname ‘Chopper’ from, however. He didn’t even know his real name, that wasn’t his surname ‘Tony.’ Oh well, topic for another time.

“Hey, are there any definitive studies about the percentage of children diagnosed with CPVT?” Chopper asked, pulling Law’s attention away from his own thoughts. “It’s quite troubling that that child was rapidly approaching heart failure. You said he hadn’t been diagnosed formally with that disease until today, right?”

“That’s right,” Law clarified. “It’s thought to be an inherited cardiac disorder, passed down genetically. My theory is that all of that child’s former experience with exercise was chalked up to asthma or something similar, until it was almost too late.” Law’s voice was always so calm and collected, despite discussing the near-death experience of a child no older than 10. In his mind, dealing with the lives and deaths of patients was part of the job.

Chopper hummed, his eyebrows knitted with concern. “Poor thing, I’m happy he was sent to the children’s hospital, though. They have much better medicine for him there.”

“Agreed,” Law replied, nodding his head.

“Anyway,” Chopper piped up. “I came by to see if you wanted something from the break room. I’m getting a protein bar.”

Law tossed a faint smile to his colleague. “Sure, I’ll have those unsalted pretzels.”

“Unsalted?” the younger man asked.

“Unsalted,” Law affirmed.

Any passing comment about how truly strange Law could be on occasion was brushed aside as Chopper left the small office area and proceeded to the break room for the aforementioned snacks. Law was still pretty tired, but he hoped the light refreshment would help him power through the rest of his shift so he could go home and cuddle with you in his warm bed.

His eyes glanced over his report once more before opening a new tab on the computer and filing through the hospital’s research database. He bit the inside of his cheek, reading a few abstracts about the rare condition. He ran through his memory of his own genetic testing, as well as the genetic testing he had you do in the genealogy clinic before starting to try to conceive. Neither of you had preexisting or a predisposed risk of heart conditions, which was one of Law’s biggest concerns. Although he could breathe a sigh of relief in that aspect, he had a nagging feeling in his gut that something wasn’t quite right.

#fem reader #law x reader #reader insert #trafalgar law x reader #x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #one piece x reader #op x reader #im losing you

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reids-slut · 1 month

Note

Your writing is amazing!!!!

Thank you so much! Any feedback on my writing seriously means the world to me. I do hope to write a full romance novel one day, so this entire fanfiction endeavour is largely to improve my writing!

As a thank you to you and to anyone who follows me or has read my last (aka, my first) fic, I'm going to share the first 1,000 or so words of my next fic, which will most likely be relatively long and in multiple parts. Because this piece is unfinished, this content contained in this preview is subject to change.

Preview (unnamed, release date TBD)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader General synopsis: You and your best friend Penelope Garcia work together as technical analysts for the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. You and Spencer Reid have developed a romantic relationship since you've started there, but you both have decided to keep it to yourselves in order to avoid external influence from the team and additional complications at work. Unexpected events threaten the sacred secrecy of your relationship and you fear for the future and for the relationships you and Spencer have with your team. CWs (preview): Reader recalls, on page, being shamed for her creative outfit choices in the past. Words (preview): 956

[This preview is entirely SFW, but the finished work will be 18+ NSFW, so keep that in mind. The CWs listed are for the preview only. CWs and TWs for the final story will be posted whenever that is.]

Penelope Garcia finally shows herself at 10:08 a.m. As usual, she rolls into your shared office with the force of a tornado.

“Alrighty, Miss Y/N, we need to discuss the plans for your birthday party soon. I need a guest list because I need to figure out how much food I’m ordering and where we’re going to have it, since your apartment is pretty small and mine is only marginally bigger. I already asked him, and Rossi did say we could have it at his house, so that’ll probably be the best option.”

Before she takes her seat, she takes notice of your scowl and crossed arms, and her face falls. “Wait, what did I say wrong?”

“First of all, Penn, my birthday isn’t for another two months, and I told you that I’m fine with it just being you, me, and the team. Secondly, where have you been!? I’ve been here since nine, and it’s now…” you check your non-existent watch for dramatic effect, “past ten. You didn’t answer any of my calls or texts. Penelope Garcia, unreachable? I assumed that you were, quite literally, dead.”

“Two months is extremely soon when party-planning, I shall have you know! Wait, did I not tell you about that meeting I had with Hotch this morning?” she asks, genuinely puzzled.

Your curiosity is piqued. “No, but spill! Meeting with Hotch? What about?”

Penelope takes her seat, and you slide your swivel chair over to hers. Elbows on your knees and chin resting on your fists, you await her update like an excited child.

“It’s nothing that exciting, unfortunately, my sexy, salacious sidekick.”

“Don’t make me call HR again, Garcia,” you whisper. You give her a quick peck on the cheek and roll yourself back to your desk, only a few feet away, to resume working.

She drops a bomb as if it’s nothing. “Strauss wanted an update on how the team was doing, having two technical analysts. That’s all it was.”

The FBI hired you to work as a technical analyst with the Behavioral Analysis Unit just shy of your 25th birthday. You and your best friend Penelope Garcia met while she was presenting on behalf of the FBI at your then-school and her alma mater, Caltech. You were just starting your final year of undergrad in computer science, but you were unsure of where you wanted to go after that. The presentation was on the various technology careers within the FBI, of which technical analysts are one. You guessed that it made sense to try to recruit from one of the world’s most prestigious universities. She confidently marched up to the microphone wearing a bright pink pencil skirt, pink tweed jacket, and a cat ear headband, and you immediately knew you had to talk to her after the presentation, regardless of what she said up there.

You were always the one, even in high school, who had to match your outfits and accessories to a specific theme or color. You always dressed a bit more out there, and people have specifically chosen to bring it up to you before. In your first term of university, one professor mentioned your outfit as an example of how not to dress in a professional workplace. She was a woman, too. It probably wouldn't have hurt so badly coming from a male professor, but being shamed by a female professor did a number on your self-esteem.

Thankfully, your mom has always been your number one fan and biggest cheerleader. When you cried to her about your experience in class, she gave you the pep talk of a lifetime about how the world needs more people who are authentically themselves to bring color to the lives of the boring. She said you'd be the best computer scientist and look amazing while doing it. Mom's the oil painter, and your dad is an accountant, so the advice was very on par for her but extremely meaningful as well. Seeing another colorful, authentic woman, let alone one with a job at the FBI—which you had always viewed as a stuck-up, cold, and refined place to work—was immensely inspiring.

In addition to talking about technical analysts, she discussed the careers of digital forensic examiners, IT specialists, and computer scientists. She seemed so normal and down to earth, and you felt so excited by her presentation that you were actually taking notes. After her presentation, you headed over to see if you could speak with her. Before you could even start, she loudly gasped and began complimenting your outfit. You were wearing a lemon print sundress that day (since it was so hot), and you paired that with your lemon wedge purse, lemon slice necklace, and a matching yellow headband. Your gray backpack stood out like a sore thumb, but unfortunately, your laptop didn’t fit in your small citrus purse.

Penelope gave you her card, and you two became fast friends, and later, best friends. She really took you under her wing and literally became the older sister you never had. You knew you wanted to utilize your skill set to help fight crime, and right after you finished your masters, Penelope convinced her boss to hire you to work under her. Her cave was cozy with the amount of equipment she had in there, but being her best friend, she made room for you. Penelope had told you about how amazing her team was, but you had no clue what you were truly in for at the BAU.

“So after being here for two whole years, Strauss wanted to know if I was needed or if I could be cut from the team? That’s your idea of ‘no biggie’?” you ask, exasperated.

AO3 | Tumblr | Masterlist | Add yourself to my tag list

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x bau!reader #criminal minds fanfic #reids-slut-writes

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humanitys-strongest-bamf · 11 months

Text

"get me a damned matcha" | Chapter 1: June I

{{ Chapter 2: July I }} Chapter Directory

I'm so excited to finally publish this jdkflsjd. I'll get this chapter up on AO3 later this weekend or on Monday since my parents are in town, so I'm not sure how much I'll be able to be on! If you're interested in getting tagged for updates, fill out this new form here: x :3

EDIT: this is now up on AO3 as well!

✧ pairing ➼ levi ackermann x fem!reader, college x coffee shop x roommates!au ✧ summary ➼ After you find yourself plagued with misfortune due to struggles in your personal and family life, you find yourself needing to move last minute. As a junior in undergrad with little money and little social support, you considered yourself lucky when you found a sublease that was close to campus and was relatively cheap. Unfortunately, it seemed that your roommate did not seem to be so excited regarding your presence. ✧ content/warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, enemies to lovers (sorta), strangers to lovers, fem!reader, eventual smut, ex was originally porco but i accidentally made him too much of a dick so i replaced his name with zack, no it is not a reference to zeke i'd rather puke, only adding tags/content warnings that are applicable to each chapter so people can skip around if need be!, will continue to add as more stuff comes up ✧ word count ➼ ~3.9k

College was difficult enough without having to worry about money, housing, and relationship issues. Unfortunately, you were not one of the few lucky students that could just get through those four years in isolation. In addition to worrying about school, you also had to deal with a last minute housing change after some recent bullshit regarding your now ex-boyfriend. Your dynamic had gotten to the point that you couldn’t afford to wait for another two months as leases began expiring and apartments would open up for prospective renters again. You’d rather live on the streets when compared to having to live with him for another day.

Given the fact that it was June and your only remaining family was out of the country, you were left with no choice but to desperately try to find a sublease that wasn’t ridiculously expensive. That, plus the fact that you didn’t have a car and would be forced to live near campus, meant that you were ready to rip your hair out by the time that you finally found a sublease.

You knew it was due to nothing other than pure luck when you found an apartment complex that was a ten-minute walk to campus, close to a bus stop, relatively cheap, and had a tenant that moved out the week prior.

Unfortunately, your luck ran out when you found that you'd have to take a 2-hour bus ride from your ex-boyfriend's house to your new apartment. It wasn't that far from the two destinations, but the bus routes looped around the town multiple times, making your commute much longer than if you had gone by car.

As a result, you found yourself leaning your head back against the glass window at the rear end of the bus.

This really is Zack's last "fuck you" to me, isn't it?

You anxiously tapped your foot against the floor as you pulled out your phone for the millionth time. The previous tenant that set up the sublease had given you the contact information for your new roommate to set up the exchange of keys along with getting everything set up regarding who's paying for what utilities and how rent would be split. You already knew this was going to be a pain in the ass to handle. What you weren't prepared for was the lack of a hasty response when you sent a text to the number that Miche had given you.

> [you (12:35pm)]: hey, miche said you'd be free this afternoon so i can get your keys? does 3:00 work

You had sent that text message to your mysterious roommate roughly an hour ago when you had boarded your first bus back towards campus. You were now about half-way through your trip and had boarded your third bus, which was finally your last one before getting dropped off roughly a block away from your new apartment.

You shot a frown towards your phone. Your roommate had still not answered. Frustrated, you began typing again, in case the urgency in your first text was missed.

> [you (1:45pm)]: im on the bus ride over. i don't have a car, so would we be able to handle this so i'm not stranded outside?

By the time you arrived, your roommate had still not answered. You had spent the entire two-hour ride anxiously bouncing your leg up and down, checking your phone every 5-10 minutes to see if you would ever get an answer.

You didn't.

When the bus driver finally announced your stop, you found yourself more anxious than you were relieved at finishing your annoyingly long bus ride. You stepped off the bus in a dejected manner, with your right hand holding onto your phone and your left hand holding onto your backpack strap that was a bit too tight on your shoulders. Your back ached from lugging it around all day. It was packed with the basic necessities that you would need to survive the week, with your ex-boyfriend, Zack, promising to drop off the rest of your stuff next week—although you knew that translated to "shit he didn't want". That's just how your dynamic was.

You unlocked your phone and typed in the address for your new apartment complex again, navigating your way through the fairly empty streets. It was a residential area and given the fact that it was near a college campus—and therefore primarily made up of university students—and it was in the middle of June, most of the tenants had gone home for the summer.

The new apartment complex wasn't bad. It certainly couldn't compare to a house, but it had an indoor lobby with mailboxes on one side and a recreation room on the other with some vending machines, and even a small kitchenette.

No wonder the rent was so expensive.

You stepped inside, a relieved exhale escaping your lips as you felt the cool air from the air conditioning unit wash over you. Although you were definitely still irritated, seeing the lobby and escaping the heat brought up your mood slightly.

Your resolve renewed, you began to climb up the stairs, trying to figure out the best way to greet your new roommate without being overly frustrated.

Maybe their phone was off. Maybe they took a nap and couldn't see the texts. Maybe you got the wrong number from Miche.

You thought of all the reasons as to why they wouldn't respond. You shook your head, knowing that you should just brush it under the rug. As long as your roommate was home to let you in and give you your keys, there shouldn't be any more issues—for now.

"Unit 217," you mumbled to yourself as you walked down the hallway, looking up at the door numbers.

Once you appeared in front of Unit 217, you frowned, noticing that the lights inside were off. That wasn't good news.

Maybe there's enough lighting from the windows that they don't need lights.

You gently knocked on the door.

There wasn't a sound—no movement, no noise, no talking, nothing.

You knocked again a bit harder.

Nothing.

You knocked again.

They're not home. Of course they're not home. What a wonderful start to this already shitty situation.

You rested your forehead against the door, tempted to smash your head against it out of frustration. Your eyes finally shot open when you heard a door open. You glanced over to the side and saw a tall blonde man with a beard and glasses walk out.

"Locked out?" he asked as you made eye contact.

"You could say that," you mumbled with a frown. "You wouldn't happen to know of anywhere within walking distance that has wi-fi?"

If you couldn't get ahold of your roommate, you might as well get some writing done until you can return later in the evening when your roommate has to be home.

"There's a café roughly a block down, if you were wanting to hang out there, although I'm not sure when Ackermann will be home. His schedule's been all over the place recently."

"Hmm," you muttered, indicating the lack of interest in learning about your roommate's backstory, although you now at least had a name.

Ackermann, huh? What a pretentious sounding last name.

~~~~~

These damn undergrads...

Levi Ackermann currently stood behind the doorway that led from the breakroom and into the main seating area of the small, local café that he currently held a part-time position as a barista at.

He wasn't supposed to be here. He had purposefully given himself the week off so he could catch up on some lab work, yet he still found himself here. One of the new hires—a sophomore named Marlo—called out roughly 20 minutes ago when Levi was headed home from his immunology lab after spending the entire morning chatting with his mentor about whether he'd be able to graduate with his PhD on time.

To make things worse, since he was new, Marlo's shift meant that Levi was stuck working at the registers to take orders, which he easily considered the worst part of the job. If his shift just consisted of making the specialty brews that came his way, he'd be significantly less grumpy. That way, he could just tuck away in his corner and do the one aspect of the job that he enjoyed—making tea—instead of having to deal with the irritation that came with dealing with the undergrads that frequently visited.

"For fuck's sake," he whispered underneath his breath as he shut the door to his locker, ignoring his phone that kept on lighting up. He had it on silent for everyone except for the two people that mattered in his life—Farlan and Isabel—and they wouldn't contact him unless it was an emergency.

The fact that coming into this shift was one of the smaller annoyances in Levi's life simply poured more salt onto his wound. He wasn't even supposed to be working this much since it took away from his school time to do his research, but the graduate program's financial aid office fucked up his stipend and he was left to fend for himself. It was only for this month, so it didn't matter in the grand scheme of things, but then his housing situation got all fucked up.

He had been living with Miche for roughly a year and they had a decent partnership as roommates, until Miche left to live closer to the city after freshly finishing a Master's program. Miche had moved out about two weeks ago, telling him that his new roommate would be reaching out soon. Levi's stipend situation couldn't come at a worse time, as Miche moving out meant he had to cover this month's rent on his own unless his new roommate magically showed up within the next day and was willing to cover rent when they hadn't even really started living there yet.

After shooting a death glare at the front register for a few more minutes, he finally decided to step up to the counter, hoping that it was at least a slow day so he could get home and pretend the grievances in his life weren't as bothersome for a few hours.

His shift had just started, so he was more than a little annoyed when he already heard the door open. The semester had just ended, which roughly translated to all the undergrads leaving for summer break. Other than the few stragglers and the unfortunate PhD students that were forced to work through the summer, everyone should have gone home. He glanced up as he saw someone walk inside.

An immediate frown appeared on his face. He could immediately tell that they were an undergraduate student, and likely an oblivious one at that.

Levi watched as you stumbled in through the door, dragging in a backpack that was slightly too large and overpacked. You looked like you had been running around with no sense of direction or purpose. You were all disheveled, as shown by how chaotic your hair looked and through how much you struggled stepping away from the door frame and towards the coffee bar.

He felt his eyes begin to roll before seeing you approach him.

Taking over Marlo's shift means I'm working the registers and have to talk with the undergrads. What a pain in the ass.

He stared at you with a neutral expression on his face as you plopped down at the coffee bar in front of him.

"Can I get you something?" he finally said, in a tone that indicated that customer service was not one of his skills in this profession.

You looked past him at the menu that was hung up behind him. Although you had passed this café a bunch whenever you found the time to travel off-campus and explore the town that surrounded the outskirts of Paradis University, this was the first time you actually found yourself in Chosahei Café. You squinted at the menu, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion at some of the options.

"Why are the specialty coffee drinks unavailable?"

"Ah?" mumbled Levi before turning around to glance at where you were looking. "The barista that specializes in those stepped out. I can get you one of the standard ones or I can get you one of the specialty teas."

You blinked at him for a few seconds as if you were struggling to process what he was saying.

"You're a barista and you can't make coffee?"

"Tch," he muttered, already beyond irritated as he frowned at you. He knew that he was likely biased against your presence and simply lumped you in with the rest of the undergrads that constantly drove him up the wall with their obsession with cheap iced lattes that he couldn't be bothered to care about making. "Did you not hear what I just said? I can get you a standard one or—if you were really wanting one of the house specialty drinks—one of the teas."

"You must get top remarks for your customer service skills," you said with a monotonous tone.

Levi placed his hands on the counter, leaning against it as he stared at you.

"This isn't some retail café like Starbucks—which is down the street, by the way," he said, pointing towards the door as a gesture to indicate that you could leave if you weren't satisfied. "The house drinks were all created by the employees and the barista that made the specialty coffees stepped out. Now are you going to order or not? I have other customers to attend to."

His eyes raised off of you and towards the back of the café, where a line of about 3-4 people gathered as they impatiently waited for you to order.

"Hmph," you said, letting out an irritated exhale. "Get me a matcha."

Levi raised an eyebrow at you.

"Out of all the specialty ones here, you go with something as basic as that?"

You were beyond confused over why this random barista in a small, local café was giving you this much grief.

"Oh what the hell? Just get me the damned matcha, you asshole," you snapped at him as you tossed your card towards him.

He quickly grabbed your card and put in the order with an unamused look on his face.

You kept your gaze on him as he begrudgingly prepared your drink. After about a minute, you glanced towards the door that opened as a tall gentleman that also wore the barista apron stepped inside. He was average height, but seemed much taller, likely due to the fact that the barista in front of you that decided to chastise you for ordering a matcha barely rose above you in terms of height—and you were not a tall person.

The new barista went behind the counter and started taking the other customers that had gathered behind you, removing the "unavailable" sign that covered up the specialty coffees. You frowned as he smoothly chatted with the customers, with your expression quickly turning into a scowl as you saw him remove the sign.

"I'm guessing he's the barista that actually knows how to make coffee?" you said, shooting another unamused look towards Levi as he walked back with your cup of matcha.

You heard a quiet grunt from the grumpy barista you had the misfortune of being served by and you sighed as you picked up the cup and took a sip of the matcha that he reluctantly made you.

You paused, a little taken aback by the taste.

It was pretty damn good—much better than any you've ever gotten at Starbucks, anyhow.

"Onyankopon brought over some specialty recipes that he apparently grew up making over at Marley," Levi grumbled to you. "That is why I couldn't make the specialty coffees."

After he said that, he subtly scowled at himself. Why he was even explaining himself to you was beyond him. You were just some random undergrad that stopped by and said annoying undergrad things. He had literally no reason to explain himself or justify his actions.

"So what brought you in? You're undergrad, right?" Levi asked, prompting you to look up at him. "Didn't classes just end? Most of you are back at your parents by now."

You sighed and pursed your lips, with a dark look entering your eyes. Levi was able to tell that you were biting your tongue on some information that was relevant, but that you didn't feel like divulging.

"Yes," you finally said. "I had some shit come up and had to move last minute, so I'm stuck on campus for now."

You took another sip of your matcha as a frown grew on your face.

"But at this point, I'm pretty sure it was a fucking mistake."

"Oh?" Levi asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

"I had to take a two-hour bus ride here since my asshole of an ex just happened to be busy on the day I need his car, but as luck would have it, my roommate also happens to be out, so I can't even get my damn keys from them, hence why I'm here getting chastised by you because I ordered a damned matcha instead of being in my new apartment and getting settled in."

You looked up at Levi upon hearing his silence.

"How unfortunate," he finally responded in an uninterested tone.

You rolled your eyes at his response.

"God, talking to you is a pain in the ass," you spat before quickly finishing the rest of the matcha and throwing a spare dollar onto the counter as a tip before getting up.

You paused before walking away, turning slightly towards the grumpy barista.

"You should probably consider the fact that people don't order your teas because they don't want to order from you."

"Ah?" Levi muttered as he took the dollar off the counter.

"People generally don't like interacting with someone that acts like a dick right off the bat."

~~~~~

Levi frowned to himself as he kicked off his shoes upon walking in the front door, placing them neatly upside down on the shoe rack next to the door. He sighed as he flipped on the light switch to his empty apartment. He didn't particularly mind living on his own, but Miche was a good roommate and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little on edge over who his new roommate was going to be.

He walked over to his bedroom, pushing the door open as he lifted his barista apron over his head to put away for the night. Seeing the apron reminded him of the café, and in particular, the conversation he had with a certain undergraduate student that he was forced to serve and insulted him right before they left.

Tch, he thought as he recalled the comment you made.

I'm not a dick. What the fuck.

He shut his closet after he put the apron away, his mood soured by the recollection of your conversation, although he wasn't in a great mood to begin with in the first place. He looked at the clock on his nightstand and saw that he had a few hours before he was supposed to "go to bed". Being a notorious insomniac, "going to bed" basically meant laying down and staring at the ceiling for a few hours. He rarely ever got to actually sleep, but the few minutes he can occasionally catch were enough to keep him going.

He walked over to his desk, turning the switch on his small desk lamp and pulling out a folder from his backpack that was hung up against the side of his desk. He pulled out a stack of paper and neatly placed them at the center of his desk. He took a seat in his chair and flipped through the packets, frowning at the sheer number he had yet to go through. His original plan for the day was to get home and read through some of these papers that Erwin had assigned him to read before he went back to lab on Monday—it was currently a Friday. He knew Erwin had high expectations for him. Erwin would even occasionally say that Levi was the best student he's ever had, which made Levi immediately want to shrivel up in discomfort.

He glanced up from the papers in his hand. His room was "empty". Miche had commonly made fun of him and said that Levi always made his space look like no one actually lived there. The top of his desk was always empty, his bed was always made, and not a single article of clothing was in plain sight. Levi Ackermann was just that type of person. It heavily contributed to why he was so on edge over who his new roommate would be and if they would even be compatible in terms of living style.

He turned on his phone to check the time, having ignored it for the entire latter half of the day.

7:30pm. That meant he had time to get at least a few papers reviewed.

He frowned as he looked through his notifications and saw an unknown number appear. The texts were from this afternoon, so he knew it was long past an appropriate time to respond.

> [unknown number (12:35pm)]: hey, miche said you'd be free this afternoon so i can get your keys? does 3:00 work > [unknown number (1:45pm)]: im on the bus ride over. i don't have a car, so would we be able to handle this so i'm not stranded outside?

He sighed as he locked his phone and placed it onto his desk. It was just his luck that he went into a last-minute shift right as his new roommate contacted him. He knew that this new roommate was going to be irate with him since it's been around 6 hours since they sent that text. This just added more things onto Levi's plate that he really didn't need right now.

Before he could move to pick up his phone to shoot a reply at this unknown number, he heard not-so-gentle knocking on the door. Knowing that this was likely his new roommate that he had unintentionally ignored all day, he internally groaned to himself before forcing himself out of his chair.

He heard another knock as he made his way from his bedroom to the front door, bracing himself as he unlocked the door and pulled it open.

A frown appeared on his face as he looked at the person in front of him in confusion.

"What the hell?" he muttered as he saw an equally confused expression appear on your face.

That annoying undergrad from this afternoon?

"Did you follow me home?"

You raised an eyebrow at him. The last person you had expected to be greeted with was the grumpy barista that you had the misfortune of interacting with earlier in the day.

"Did you?" you retorted.

Levi scoffed.

"How the hell would I have followed you home if I was here first?"

He cursed to himself as he recalled the monologue you gave him earlier on in the day.

You had said that you had to suffer on a bus ride and couldn't get in contact with your new roommate to get keys to the unit. Now that you were standing in front of the door to his apartment, his frown only grew.

Your eyes widened as you finally put together the pieces.

"Wait," you asked, shaking your head slightly. "Are you-?"

"I guess so," Levi responded with an unamused sigh.

"Fuck."

#: @levisbrat25 @gothgril69 @sckerman @berrijam @notgoodforlife @meowjaa @averysmolbear @roseofdarknessblog @bejewelledd @hhighkey @ayame236 @sad-darksoul @velouria17

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our-aroace-experience · 3 months

Note

Hi! I was on the asexual tag saw this blog and just wanted to see if anyone else who is aspec can relate to my ramblings. Rambling tldr: not claiming a label despite that label actually relating to my experiences because it just doesn't fit perfect enough and because it doesn't fit perfect enough in my mind I don't think I want to use it.

Now, back in 2020 I claimed being 'asexual' by name and then a couple of months later claimed being aroflux which eventually changed to 'greyaro' over a year later. And those two terms fit me the best, grey aro ace is me. However, because I'm greyaro I still feel romantic attraction though it is rare but its still present enough in my mind to continually be wondering about what label to put it as. For the most part, I don't have a label even when the attraction - romantic/sensual/alterous/aesthetic - arises. Which again doesn't rise often, but I daydream about it a lot or reminisce about old crushes - particularly the one about a girl way back in high school days. (Let me tell you that was a wild time in my mind). Back then I was thinking I was bisexual only to cancel it out because I didn't want to have sex with her. However I never questioned if I wanted to have sex with boys (I just assumed I would, thanks heteroallonormativity). But the romantic feelings I had for her were the same like the boy crushes (which came up every few years). And for a timeline purposes, before her my last crush (boy) was in the 7th grade, she was the 11th grade, and my last crush currently was senior year of undergrad college (the best one honestly I could actually talk to him and not be overly ridden with anxiety and embarrassment). And despite so many years passing I always wonder - does the bi label fit? Was that with her an bi experience? I know its whatever I feel like it was but also I'm wondering if my hesitation is because deep down having that bi label attached makes the 'im not straight' thought more permanent? If that makes sense? Like 'im not straight' in any way, not even hetero aro/ace? And maybe that thought just makes my head spin a little. I thought about the pan label too; but when I read the definition to see the differences between bi and pan I realized that pan definition doesn't connect the closest but bi does. However I still can't always make it fit. It's like when I was going by aroflux despite the fact it did not fit for me, it was clunky in my brain calling myself that. But then I read about grey-aromantic and it fit perfect! But not my romantic orientation is still in murky waters; I ID as a girl so for the most part of my life boys have been what I've been romantically attracted to, however hetero isn't me. I usually just go as fluid for all my attraction titles which I do like but that opens up more discussion of "okay, but who, what gender?" So in that case I guess bi would be the correct answer...despite the fact gender doesn't play a part (hence fluid label I go with and or queer) but it isn't all genders I fall for, I lean in some directions more than others. So it kind of does, doesn't it? But again I'm like "....meh it just doesn't fit/doesn't fit the way I want." And I am one of those people who agree that you don't have to use every label or any label including micro (for example, aegosexual I can relate to but I don't feel the need to have two microlabels) however, once I start thinking in depth I start to question myself as I do because I'm a thinker. And I think a lot because in real life I'm not in the space where I can speak about this openly with the people in my life.

Wonder if anyone else has had something like this on and off throughout their life too?

Thanks for listening~

you can be bi and greyromantic at the same time, if that helps! but not wanting labels is totally valid and if that feels best then go for it!

#our aroace experience #aroace asks #aromantic #asexual #aro #ace #aroace #aro pride #ace pride #long post

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here2bbtstrash · 2 years

Text

the shape of your body - teaser (explicit)

genre: fluffy slowburn smut

pairing: jimin x reader

summary: the same day you finally manage to speak to your months-long public transit crush, you end up seeing much more of him than you bargained for.

release date: october 9th, 2022

teaser word count: .7k

teaser contains: reader has a fat crush, ~mysterious subway boy jimin~, also reader's roommates are namgi and they're a couple so if that bothers you maybe skip this one? 🤷‍♀️

A/N: just wanted to share a lil teaser since i'm so very close to being done with this one!! current total wordcount is sitting around 18k, so i imagine the final thing will be in the 20-25k range 💜 hope y'all are ready for something different from me 🥰 excited-nervous-scared to share it so i do hope you enjoy this little taste!!! drops sunday! 💋

~*~

You’ve taken the subway thousands of times since moving to New York.

Morning rides, squeezed nearly to death between commuters in suits blinking back sleep and school-uniformed kids scream-laughing and paper coffee cups gripped tight by winter-numb fingers.

Long trips with your sketchbook on your lap, riding the line all the way to Pelham Bay Park and back, to surface above ground out where there’s a little more space to breathe, until the setting sun floods orange glow between the buildings just before you descend again.

Late nights coming home, Namjoon’s head thudding back against the train window behind him as he dozes off, one arm thrown around your shoulder to ward off any drunk creeps, his free hand interlaced with Yoongi’s on his other side.

It’s always been the three of you, first in friendship, and now that the two of them have figured out they’re something more, you don’t mind it. But when it’s late and you’ve had enough drinks to feel warm all the way through, to melt something open inside of you, and you glance over to see a loving flicker of eyelashes exchanged as Namjoon leans down and presses a kiss to Yoongi’s temple, you can’t help it.

There’s a little bit of an ache there, right behind your ribs. Sometimes.

But mostly, when it comes to the train, you take the 6 to school. You go through the motions this morning the same as you always do: headphones around your neck, bag slung over your shoulder, immediately dropping into the first empty seat you see as the train doors shudder closed and the car starts to move. Six stops down, 51st street to Astor Place, five days a week, you know it like a heartbeat.

You just wish you knew him, too.

Subway Boy, as Yoongi affectionately labeled him the time you got two pitchers of margaritas deep and made the mistake of confessing to your roommates about your crush— if it can even be called that. Can you truly have a crush on someone you know nothing about, not even their name?

Well, you know a few things.

He must live further north than you, because on the days you see him, he’s already on the train when you board at 51st.

He must like music, because he always has a set of fancy bluetooth earbuds in.

You’re pretty sure he’s an athlete of some sort, because he’s usually carrying a gym bag—and because during this summer’s heat wave, the one and only time you’ve seen him wear shorts, you nearly fainted at the thick, defined muscles of his thighs.

He has an affinity for jewelry, delicate silver always glinting through the multiple piercings in his ears. At odds with this, he seems to prefer to dress comfortably, and you’ve seen him in enough branded school t-shirts and sweats to figure he must also be an NYU student, though you can’t say for sure if he’s undergrad or graduate.

You deeply hope you’re not crushing on someone who still needs a fake ID to drink, but there’s no way to be certain.

Most importantly, you know that he is absolutely stunning. Elegantly handsome, with expressive deep brown eyes, skin like glass, and round cheeks and full lips that flush frozen pink on particularly frigid New York days. His hair has changed colors a few times over the months that have passed since you first took notice of him, but it’s currently a honey blonde, and long enough that he often reaches up to card a hand through it. He does it now, pushing loose strands back to expose his forehead as he frowns down at his phone.

On days where you share the same car, you notice very little else that happens on the ride, thoroughly entranced in Subway Boy’s beauty and his mystery. The train could probably catch fire and you’d miss it entirely.

Today happens to be one of those days, and excitement glitters in your bloodstream as you realize he’s seated across from you. The rush of seeing him always feels like its own reward, some kind of cosmic sign that the day is going to be a good one.

And then the train stops moving.

#jimin smut #jimin fluff #jimin x reader #jimin x y/n #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts fanfic

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giggles-and-freckles · 11 months

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Tag Game To Better Know You

I have been tagged in so many things by so many of you lovely people in the midst of my sorta-hiatus and I would break the internet if I tried to catch up...but I like this one because it feels like a good little re-intro into the Tumblr world. :-)

What book are you currently reading?

The Writing Revolution...I can't in good conscience recommend it unless you also happen to find yourself as a teacher trying to capture teenagers' imaginations and get them to produce complete sentences! Hahahaha. Miserable toil.

What’s your favourite movie you saw in theatres this year?

Ooh, this one's easy--The Little Mermaid!! I have seen it with my family twice and then with my friends once. (I felt a little freer to lust after Prince Eric when my husband and two children weren't sitting there with me...)

What do you usually wear?

These days, some form of athleisure. During the school year, I've been told my teacher style is "Jessica Day if she didn't care so much" and...that about sums it up.

How tall are you?

5′5″ AND A HALF (alternatively: taller than @stolen-pen-name23 which is all that truly matters in this world)

What’s your star sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event?

Cancer...I think? Malala Yousafzai and Henry David Thoreau!

Do you go by your name or a nickname?

Most folks IRL call me Abigail. It's just my brothers, husband, and you guys who call me Abi!

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child?

Absolutely not. I wanted to be a lawyer my entire life. My undergrad was pre-law and then life had other plans for me and now I'm teaching 8th grade American History. And LOVING IT. I start grad school in the fall and I'll be getting my Principal's Certification with that, so I suppose I'm in this education world for the long haul.

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one?

I am tragically married. Sorry to all interested parties!

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at?

I'm fairly good with piano and singing. I'm terrible at cooking.

Dogs or cats?

Dogs forever and ever!

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favourite picture/favourite line/favourite etc. from something you created this year?

Oh my. I haven't written as much as I'd like to this year (although I'm hoping to post something before the weekend!!) so I'm choosing to interpret this as the last 12 months. Maybe this bit from walking by her side, talking by her side, have pity?

He holds out his hand, wondering if she’ll bare touching him. “Goodbye, Leia.”

She is not a girl of gentleness—this, he can tell. But she accepts the hand like she’s afraid to shatter it. “Goodbye.”

“Saying my name won’t hurt you, you know,” he says, refusing to be the first to let go.

“Remind me?”

He rolls his eyes. “Anakin Skywalker.”

“Skywalker, you said?” she echoes, and lets their hands fall between them. She opens the door and smiles teasingly at him, tilting her head. “Interesting. That was my father’s name.”

What’s something you’d like to create content for?

I think I'm forever stuck in my prequels hell!

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with?

Ur mom. Okay...sorry. Ahem. I've been sewing more lately. I used ot dabble in high school, but I'm finding more motivation to make things for my toddler than I did to make things for myself.

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

The weather recently! It was supposed to rain the past couple weeks and we've not gotten much more than a few minutes of sprinkling. I looooove rainy days, so that's bummed me out quite a bit.

What’s a hidden talent of yours?

I'm excellent at whistling. It's completely useless, but I'll get compared to a Disney princess occasionally, so I guess that's something.

Are you religious?

Yes. My faith is very important to me, but it's *my* faith, so I don't feel the need to bring it up with strangers unless asked about it. (Crazy concept, right?)

What’s something you wish to have at this moment?

A cuppa tea...so I think I'll go put the kettle on byeeeee

No pressure tags: @pandora15 @stolen-pen-name23 @tessiete @ilonga @kckenobi & anyone who wants to join in the fun!

#tag game #long post #about me!

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a-queer-seminarian · 4 months

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sigh. i'm so tired of dreams where i'm somehow back at my childhood church and trying to get out of there before i'm recognized and yelled at / attacked. i dream some iteration of this a few times a month.

they are interesting dreams though, because of how they shift and change.

sometimes the church looks like it does now, but more often it looks like it did when i was a kid / up through high school — they redid the entire sanctuary building while i was in undergrad (which is quite fitting narratively lol, that the building itself was demolished and remade while i was undergoing huge changes in myself off at college, so that what i returned to was never quite Familiar, an uncanny valley version of the place i loved most as a child)

the changes the church underwent:

they carefully removed the altar, crucifix, tabernacle, stained glass windows and tore down the old building, then placed all those treasured items in the new, larger sanctuary.

(a fun thing about that altar: it has relics of Felicity and Perpetua inside it, i.e. THE sapphic Saints)

The pews went from two straight rows to having some diagonal rows on the sides.

I want to say the floor is stone now instead of the old burgundy carpet that i remember so well growing up, and that is present in my parents' wedding photos

There are still the small gold fonts of holy water at the side doors, but the main entrance boasts a whole holy water fountain now which is pretty cool

all that statues and images of Jesus and co are, of course, white people. as it was as i grew up, so it is now. i just notice it way more now than i did then

my favorite addition is to one side, a shrine to Our Lady of the Wayside, which i wrote about years ago. I don't know what significance she has to whomever decided to give her space at St. Raphael, but her name alone is so queer — she's there with those who are left behind on the wayside, forgotten or abandoned or unable to keep up.

Sometimes in my dreams the old and the new tangle up, so that i'll exit the new sanctuary and find myself in the old gym, or the old behind-the-scenes space where i'd go to change into my altar serving alb, ready the candles, pray with the priest and other servers before Mass began. (I can't remember what the new behind-space looks like; i only ever went in there a handful of times. So it never shows up in my dreams)

Or in some of my dreams the church looks completely different from reality, expanded into a cathedral — last night the sanctuary looked similar to what it used to on its ground floor, but it had a second level wrapped around the sides for even more pews, with an enormous statue of Raphael in the very back watching over everything.

Most of the time I'm hiding. Fleeing. Trying to escape unseen. Sometimes it's the middle of Mass and i somehow accidentally ended up there? i'm hiding my face trying to hustle to the exit but they're all locked so i have to play it cool, act casual. Or else i'm lost in those back rooms with the albs and such; they've become labyrinthine and i keep passing the doorless spaces where they lead straight onto the raised space with the altar; i can see Father T preaching at the pulpit and my body goes cold fearing he'll turn his head and see me so i hurry on, still hopelessly lost

One time i spent the whole time kneeling before the place to the side of the altar in the old sanctuary building where the tabernacle used to be. Then when i was in high school they moved the tabernacle to be at a more central place right behind the altar, and moved statues of the Holy Family to fill its old space. In my dream the Holy Family and the tabernacle were there, and I knelt in prayer before them. I can't remember what I prayed. Was I desperate for safety or acceptance? Was I defiant? Did I pray for those who persecuted me? I don't remember, but I sure was at it a long time

Every now and then i dream someone does recognize me — and instead of attacking me, they say it's all right. That no one is mad. That i can come back without fear. I hate that version the most because when i wake up it takes me a moment to remember that didn't really happen

#log #pentecost incident #< if you don't know all The Drama that happened at my childhood church last year that's the tag to peruse lmao #church hurt /

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salvadorbonaparte · 5 months

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Hi! I go to UMass Amherst! I'm in my third year of undergrad so take all of this with the consideration that my experience will be quite different than a grad student's, but I have certainly got some things to say about public transportation and the area :)

Main thing: despite the fact that public transport /exists/, it's.... not great honestly. People make it work but a car will make your life 10 times easier.

As a UMass student you'd get free access to the PVTA buses run by UMass transit, which can generally get you around campus, most places in Amherst itself, and some surrounding towns like Sunderland (more residential) and Hadley (quite a few grocery stores/chain restaurants). UMass Transit don't ask to see ID, either. You just hop on and go. However, this means that buses are often really crowded at rush times and especially so during rainy or snowy weather. These buses also do not consistently run on time, so you would not want to rely on the scheduled times; instead, look at the tracking apps. I have a few friends who live off campus without cars and they make it work, but it does often mean planning classes/work around the busses. It's certainly not CONVENIENT.

During the academic year you would also be able to get to Northampton and Springfield free with your student ID. They do charge fares over school breaks. The bus to Northampton leaves hourly and is much more consistent with timing than the UMass transit busses. The bus to Springfield, the closest "bigger" city, runs (I think) every two hours. All these busses are run by the PVTA as well, but not under the UMass transit umbrella.

From Springfield, you can catch Amtrak trains -- the Northeast Regional runs there, as does the Vermonter, and I'm sure I'm forgetting some. Springfield is also the home base for Peter Pan buses which operate frequent buses to NYC, Boston, Hartford, and other locations in the general Northeast.

There is a bus to Worcester, where you can catch an Amtrak or connect to the Boston commuter rail to get to Boston pretty cheap, but it is /crappy/. Due to PVTA driver shortages they usually run it as a van, not a full bus, and frequently passengers will be left behind even after people squeeze onto the floor of the van and sit in the back or in the aisle for the 2-hour ride. It costs about $9 to go from UMass's transit hub to Worcester. Once I got stranded in Worcester and had to uber back to Amherst because that van only runs about 3 times a day and not every day of the week, last departure around 4 pm.

The Amherst area has a housing crisis right now as UMass consistently admits increasingly more undergrads than it can house, and therefore once those undergrads finish their first year and are no longer guaranteed on-campus accommodations many of them move off-campus to Amherst and its surrounding towns. The best, cheapest, and most convenient housing is usually locked down by returning students the winter before an August move-in for the fall semester. This pushes many new grad students to the surrounding towns like Sunderland, South Deerfield, etc, where buses are a bit of a crapshoot and campus is no longer within reasonable walking distance. Housing's also pretty expensive for the semi-rural location. I'm looking at off-campus housing for next year and will be happy if I can find a place where I'll pay less than $1000 a month (usually, this covers a room in a shared apartment or house).

All this said, the area itself is beautiful, and I've had a great experience with the academics here. I have heard really good things about the translation and linguistics programs and I'm sure you'd be able to find a great niche. You'll also be in close proximity to 4 other great schools (Smith College, Mount Holyoke College, Amherst College, and Hampshire College) and have the ability to take classes, work with profs, etc from those schools through the 5 college exchange program. I don't know what PhD program you're thinking of applying to but I'm in the comparative literature undergrad program (complit encompasses a lot of our translation classes, undergrad and grad level) and have nothing but good things to say about the faculty, the grad student instructors I've had, and the program as a whole.

Feel free to reach out for more information if you'd like!!

Thank you for the info!

Unfortunately I can't drive (never learned) so I'd have to rely on buses. The bus system in Ireland was surprisingly bad (almost daily delays and I lived an hour away from campus) and in Spain I lived on a mountain in the middle of nowhere so grocery shopping took up to 5h but minimum 3h so by now my standards are pretty low. I'd love to travel a little while I'm there (Boston, Salem, Maine, Buffalo etc) so I'm just glad there's buses and trains at all. A free bus system that's kinda crappy is still better than one that doesn't exist or one that's crappy and expensive (shout out to Ireland's 2€ bus fares and Hannover's 8€ metro tickets)

The housing situation is a little worrying but I'm not above a flatshare and I'd get a scholarship so I'm sure I'd find something?? But I'll start looking as soon as soon as I know where I'm moving to because the housing situation is bad in those cities too.

I know something who went to Smith and someone who went to Mount Holyoke so I heard good things about the general region and landscape etc.

The professors I talked to (German Department) were really nice and it sounds like a really cool phd program. Even though Amherst is not as prestigious as two of the other unis I'm applying to it's a very good school and I'd be happy to go there if that's the one I get accepted by/the one I pick.

#Asks

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mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea · 17 days

Note

Ask game!

6 obvs

13 & 16

6. Show us a bit of a WIP!

From the June chapter of my Year of OTP 2023 (yes, I'm quite a bit behind, but I'll catch up...or not. Whatever - it'll all get written eventually):

The amount of work it took to plan the wedding and reception in the span of five months – and that included working around training schedules and missions and the unplanned fights with those who didn’t really CARE that Captain America and Winter Soldier needed time to pick out a venue, catering, the cake, choose invitations (and send them out!), get fitted for suits, find someone to officiate, and on and on – was sometimes so great that Bucky thought he would go insane. Steve thought this wedding would be his villain origin story.

Tony offered several times to fly everyone to Vegas where they wouldn’t have to deal with all the bullshit; just the two grooms, their found family as witnesses, and the entire bill for the time they were there paid for by Tony himself as one of their wedding gifts. Food, fancy hotel with a lavish honeymoon suite (“We can even book you one with a heart-shaped bed and plenty of toys and gizmos to make your wedding night spectacular!” Tony had offered up.) Bucky had been tempted by the offer and to just have the planning nightmare over and done with. Steve put on his most gracious face when he thanked Tony but worried that tacky and flashy and glitzy just weren’t his or Bucky’s style.

After that, Tony had suggested they could rent a couple of huge buses and traipse over to Atlantic City for the same type of deal. Might not have the same shows with dancers barely covered in sequins and feathers, but they could have the wedding on the boardwalk, the reception in one of the finer dining establishments, and then party big at one of the hotels with plenty of gambling.

Even if Steve and Bucky hadn’t scrunched their noses at the idea of New Jersey, Loki remarking that during one of the Avengers’ missions in that state – some really trite and dumbass mission to save a shopping mall of all places from idiot wannabe villains – a couple of assholes made fun of his accent (HIS accent!) by calling it ‘fake’. So out of loyalty to his boyfriend, Tony nixed New Jersey on the spot.

13. What's a character or ship you haven't written/drawn yet but would like to some day?

I have a few ships I haven't really played with yet that I'd like to - Loki/Bruce (they were a tiny background ship in a Scott/Logan fic I wrote for @scottxlogan for Yule), Logan/Loki - and for them, I have a fic in mind for the @marvelrarepairbingo I co-mod with Scottxlogan that's based on a Loki artwork she did, Bucky/Emma Frost (again, I have a fic planned/started just barely for them for the MRP bingo), and really weirdly enough, Emma/Logan. There's also Natasha/Steve (have one planned for MRP bingo), Natasha/Tony (no ideas just yet), and Natasha/Bucky (no ideas just yet). I even have one planned for Natasha/Emma.

16. Do people irl know you participate in fandom?

Most of them do, even several of my undergrad and grad school professors. My family does - my family being my sister and brother and his wife. I think most of my non-fandom friends know as well - or have figured it out by now. A few have even read some of my fanfics.

Thanks for the asks!

Fandom Ask Game.

#Fandom Ask Game #satirickitty #Thanks for the asks!

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gravesaint · 3 months

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hi! when i read your post i got so excited bc the whole reason I went back to school (first time in 4 years, since high school!) is to become an archivist and work in a queer archive and help bridge those gaps and educate young ppl abt our history. do you mind answering a few questions of mine about how you got your job? what kind of program were you in, what did u major in, how did you end up working in a queer archive, what’s your job like? I could DM also!

Hello! Thanks for the ask!

So in undergrad I actually majored in art history because I knew I wanted to do some kind of museum/memory institution work, but wasn't really sure what (I went back and forth between curation, conservation, education, etc.). I also got a minor in museum studies!

I then went directly into gradschool because I got lucky with scholarships, and last spring I completed my master's in museum sciences. That program had three different tracks (administrative, education, and collections care), and I went down the collections care track since that aligned most with my desire to do archival work. I also interned in a few different areas at a local museum, and my work with their digitization department is what really cemented the fact that I liked working with collections.

Once I finished my master's, I was actually just on the job hunt when I decided to volunteer at my local equality center as a way to get out of the house and stay active in the community. I started by cleaning out their closets sdhfdjfhd

The volunteer coordinator saw in my email signature that I had a master's in archival and collections care and asked if I'd be willing to look at their history project room (literally a room full of 50+ years of materials that no one had ever organized). They had tried to put together an archival plan for it about 20 years ago, but the project just never took off.

I started by just going through everything and coming up with a preliminary plan for how to start managing the space, and I volunteered once a week for a few months just working on that. Over time my plans got more and more complex and I started treating the position like an actual job because I'm bad at setting boundaries lol. By this time I had actually landed a paying job working at a museum gift shop (not a lot of museum opportunities where I live currently, so I had to take what I could get and it pays the bills).

I spoke often with one of the center's main patrons (an older gay man who has done a lot of philanthropy in my city), and we eventually worked out an agreement for turning what I had already been doing into a paid position. I had already been doing work way beyond the scope of a volunteer (I did a lot of work on our online catalogue while at home or at my other job), and because I kept a record of all the work I had done and projects I had started, it was easier to pitch the idea of a full-time position to the organization's president.

So overall, I came into the position in a kinda unconventional way tbh. But luckily everyone at the center actually values the history and the work I've put in, so they saw the value of hiring me on officially. There are definitely easier ways of getting into archival work, but that's how it happened for me sjdfjdfh

As for what the job is actually like, I detail that in this ask!

My closing advice:

Have better workplace boundaries than me.

Look for ways to apply your skills in unconventional places (I never thought I would be making a career somewhere outside of a museum).

It can be daunting, but try to get as much experience under your belt while still in school as you can (via internships and volunteering), because it helps grow your confidence and it'll be easier for you to promote yourself and your work in the future. Unfortunately most internships probably aren't going to be paid, which is bullshit, but they really do help once you're out of school.

Develop a cocktail of autism, adhd, and ocd that makes you really good at building organizational and archival systems from the ground up (not actually required because chances are you'll find a pre-functioning archive that already has basic protocols in place).

#sorry this is kinda long winded and probably not as interesting as you might have hoped sjdhfdh #and ACTUALLY my partner just got accepted into a phd program so we might be moving at some point soonish #but ive gotten a lot of good references by doing this work #so hopefully trying to find archival work will be a little easier where ever we end up going down the line #asks

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tllgrrl · 5 months

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Winter Shortbread Parts 1 & 2 by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones

Fleurdelouve SarahBucky Month 2023 | Week 3, Day 3 - College Professors AU/Coffeeshop AU | Sarah Wilson x James “Bucky” Barnes and a few OCs | Rating: SFW

* * * * * * * * * *

Sarah Wilson and James “Bucky” Barnes both are college professors.

He teaches Political Science and Labor Law on one side of the sprawling campus. On the other side, she teaches Mechanical Engineering and she’s also a Faculty Advisor for a study group in African-American Literature with an emphasis on Black Women authors.

People never guess the two of them are Professors because the misconception is that “Professor” means Old White Man.

Without fail, at the beginning of the school year, some undergrad who didn’t know, would try to flirt, thinking maybe she was one of them until they found out that she was actually one of their teachers.

“Well,” her friends would laugh, “you know what they say!”

“Yeah girl. Even we can’t tell how old we really are!”

Once she wore a head wrap, which sparked a rumor that she was West African royalty studying in America. Even when she was wearing an LSU t-shirt and jeans, many people agreed.

And him? Fellow members of the Law Faculty call him “Professor GQ”.

“How can someone who looks like that be serious?” one of them grumbles, watching him walk across the campus mall.

“Yeah! He’s just wearing jeans, a t-shirt, motorcycle boots and a sport jacket. A sport jacket! Who looks hot in a sport jacket?!”

“Professor Barnes,” Professor Daniels drawled, then proceeded to drain her water bottle after he walked by.

(Gulping down his water, Dr. Trudeau agreed.)

***

Part 1–Going Up

Sarah hurried up the steps to the relatively new building, impressed by its modern nod to the original architecture, and the original stained glass that was installed in a window at the top of the entrance, but she didn’t have time to admire the design.

She’d taught at the school for 4 years but this was the first time she’d been in this building. She never really had a reason to be there. Her stomping grounds were on the other side of the campus.

The signage indicated that the elevators were to the left, and as she headed down the hallway her phone started to ring.

It was her BFF, Eartha.

“Hey, girl! What’s up? Waitaminute—

Hi! Hold the elevator!! Just a—no! No!! Just a second! Please wait! Please?? Oh, shhhhoot!”

Eartha heard what sounded like papers rustling, and her friend using her Professional Indoor Voice.

“Damn. What an asshole—I mean—jerk. He wouldn’t even hold the elevator.”

[“What?? For real?!”]

“I was right there! I had to pick up a couple of pages that slid out of my folder.”

[“Another one with no home training. Child, men these days. Hold on. What are you wearing?”]

“What am I—? Jeans, Docs, blazer. Fake Pearls. The latest rags from the Underpaid Professor Autumn 2025 Lookbook. Nothing special. Why?”

[“Girl, shut up. You even look runway and red carpet in jeans and work boots, but…are you wearing one of those t-shirts?”]

“What? What t-shirts?”

[“You know what I'm talking about.”]

“I’m wearing my List of Black Women Authors tee.”

[“Hm. Okay, but you know why I asked, don’t you.”]

“I Ain’t Thinkin ‘Bout You is a song lyric! Not a sign saying don’t hold the elevator for me, I’m good, sir.”

[“Yeah, you and the Beehive know that.”]

“That’s right. Blame a sister’s clothes!” she giggled. “ I’m not trying to send Hey! I’m available messages with my t-shirts…like you.”

[“What?! Stop lyin’! I’m juicy is a song lyric, too!”]

They both laugh as Sarah noticed the elevator approaching her floor.

“Let me go. The elevator’s coming and I need to put my student brain on for this class I’m auditing.”

[“Okay. I just called to let you know that I had a cancellation and I can fit you in for Saturday morning if you’re still interested?”]

“Yes! Put me in! I need to get these braids taken out. The end of the year’s coming and I’m ready for a New Year, New Me cut.”

[“Well, okay, now!! I’ll see you Saturday morning. And I’m going to want to hear if the professor is hot.”]

“Girl, Bye!!” she laughs, ending the call and tossing her phone into her purse.

*ding* “Ground floor,” a soft voice says as the next elevator door opens.

She stepped inside and the door was almost completely closed before she hears—

“HOLD ON! Ow! Please? Ow!”

She throws her hand between the doors, breaks the beam just in time, and a man slides in.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

She’s seen him before, at the coffee shop not far from campus. He’s usually near the front of the line as she’s arriving.

Tall. Taller than her. Once, he turned to leave the counter with his order, and she saw his eyes. Grey. Like overcast skies. He’d seen her too and it looked like he wanted to stop, then his phone rang, and hers did too.

She wasn’t trying to stare, but as he walked past she noticed his build, and his smooth sort of loping gait.

And like her, he seemed to have a penchant for interesting t-shirts.

It became a sort of habit for both of them to look for each other when they stopped by the coffee shop on the way to campus during the week. Just to see what t-shirt the other one was wearing, of course.

(At least that’s what they told themselves.)

And now, he was standing there in the elevator, juggling his backpack and gingerly holding a to-go cup from Congo Square Coffeehouse and Bakery, where she usually stops on the way to work.

He’s got the cup in his right hand, and is trying to negotiate the left bag strap so he can slip the hot drink into his gloved left hand as quickly as possible because there’s no protective sleeve on the cup.

“Here…” she offers, reaching over, taking the cup, placing it on her palm, and holding it around the rim of the cap. “Let me take that while you get your…bag…”

“Oh! Hey, thanks! Be careful. It’s hot.”

“No, I got it. I do this a lot.”

He slipped the backpack securely onto his shoulder.

“Thanks, again,” he grinned an apology . “Just a second…I know I have a…”

He patted his jacket, quickly reached into a pocket, and with a small flourish pulled out a coffee cup sleeve.

“I prob’ly have a couple down in the bottom of my backpack, too, but I was kinda in a hurry tryna make it ta class on time.”

(Sounds like a local, but a little too fast for a yat. What’s this Yankee doing down here? I wonder if he’s in the class I’m taking…)

He takes the cup and slips the sleeve onto it. “Got it. My hand an’ I both thank you.”

He’d seen her before at Congo Square Coffeehouse, the unofficial campus coffeeshop that’s a few blocks from the university.

He was intrigued from the first time he saw her: tall, almost his height. Something regal about her high cheekbones, the beautiful eyes.

And, like him, she liked to wear interesting t-shirts.

He’s usually almost next in line by the time she’s walking into the shop, and he’d thought of keeping an eye out for her next time. Maybe offer to let her cut in front of him. Maybe start a conversation.

{Who’m I kidding? She probably wouldn’t want to—}

Now, here she is in the same elevator, keeping him from receiving what surely would be a serious coffee injury.

{She really is beautiful. Don’t stare.}

“You’re welcome. If you don’t mind, I have a question. I…don’t mean to pry, and you really don’t have to answer…”

“Okay…” he chuckled, mentally steeling himself. He also slipped the now shielded cup into his right hand and habitually lowered his gloved hand while at the same time was keenly listening to and enjoying her soft Southern Louisiana accent.

“I just wanted to know… are you from around here or from New York?”

“Am I…oh! Yeah! New York. Brooklyn, actually. I thought you were going to…was it the t-shirt that gave me away?”

“No. The accent. Your t-shirt, however…”

Well, now she had an excuse to actually look at his chest, which she was trying so hard not to stare at ever since he got onto the elevator.

“Dodgers,” he smiled, pulling a side of his jacket open with his freehand, giving her a better view.

“Oh…my…” she whispered, as she noticed how the t-shirt was fitted just enough to where she could tell that there was a sculpted chest and abs under the fabric. She also saw the outline of what looked like military dog tags.

Then she snapped out of it.

“I mean, right! Of course! L.A. Dodgers!”

(Sarah! Act like you have some decorum up in here. Damn!)

“Brooklyn Dodgers. They were from Brooklyn, first. Moved out West in 1957, before the ‘58 season.”

“Won the World Series again the next year, 1959.”

“Well…yeah. How did you—?“

“Larry Sherry pitched them into that win," she said. “Got the MVP.”

“You…do you like baseball?”

“Kind of a fan. My grandfather and my Daddy were big fans, so I grew up watching with them.”

“Really? Who’s your team?”

“The Giants. San Francisco.”

“Rats.”

“What?”

“I guess I can’t ask you if you’d like to grab a coffee sometime. Well…grab another coffee that is,” his mouth quirking into a sideways grin that made her spend too much time looking at his lips. “Or maybe…I don’t know…dinner.”

“Yeah, no,” she sighed, shaking her head. “I can’t be seen out and about with a—“

“Oh, I completely understand—“

“Dodger fan.”

She smiled, and his heart did a flip that hadnothing to do with caffeine.

“Yeah…” his mile-wide smile answering hers, “…the scandal.”

{Marry me.}

*ding* “Ground floor.”

“What?” they both said in unison, staring at the elevator operating panel.

“I forgot to push the button,” he said sheepishly.

“Looks like I did too.”

“And now I’m officially late for my class.”

“You still have time. I’m sure the professor won’t mind—“

“I’m the professor,” he shrugged.

“Oh! Well…good thing you’re fine. I mean, you’re good then! I, on the other hand, am officially late for a class I’m auditing.

“Don’t worry. You’re fine, too. I mean, I’ll vouch for you. I’m Professor Barnes. James Barnes.

If I might ask, what’s the class?”

“Labor Law. Taught by—um—“

She looks at the piece of paper on top of her folder, then looks back at him.

It doesn’t seem possible that his smile got wider, but it did.

“I’ll be glad to write you a note…with…my phone number.”

“Well. Pleased to meet you, Professor Barnes. I’m Professor Wilson. Sarah Wilson.”

When they shake hands, neither is in a hurry to let go.

“Professor Wilson? You teach…here?”

“I’m usually on the other side of campus.”

“I’m always over here. What’s your field?”

“Engineering. Right now I’m teaching classes on Ethics as it relates to Mechanical Engineering. Yes, that’s a class.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Professor Wilson. You can call me James.

I hope you don’t mind if I sit in on one of your classes.”

“Any time, James. And you can call me Sarah.”

“Sarah…”

*ding* “Fifth floor. Please watch your step.”

* * * * *

Part 2 - Order Up!

***2 weeks later, Saturday morning***

It’s Big Game Day at the university, and driving past the shop, she could tell by the crowd out front waiting to get in that it was already slammed.

“They just opened an hour ago. It’s gonna be a long weekend,” she said to herself.

She pulled into the parking space behind the shop, grabbed her purse and hastily walked in through the employees entrance of Congo Square Coffee.

“Hey-hey!”

“Good morning!”

“There she is! How’re you doin’, Babygirl?”

“I’m good, Titi Bernie! You?”

The older woman gives her a hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Busy and happy to be here! Let me look at you! Haven’t seen you in months. You look good, Sarah. I just hope you’re not running yourself ragged, teaching and running a business.”

“I’m making it work, Titi. Don’t worry. I’m doing fine. And thanks for coming in before the game. I know you want to get together with your sorors.”

“Don’t worry about that. They’ll be there when I get there. I worked here enough years to know how it is on Game Day. I’d’ve been mad if you didn’t call me!” They hug again, and for a second Sarah thinks about her Mama, Titi Bernice’s sister.

“Now, let me get out there. These children are ‘bout to be overwhelmed.” Her face beams as she heads out to the front counter. “Charles?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Check the tables, would you, baby? I see some people leaving.”

“Sure will!”!

Sarah looks out into the shop and sees that all the tables are occupied, some people are waiting for tables to free up, the line is almost out the door, and the mood is a party with almost everybody wearing some combination of purple, gold and black.

The aromas of brewing coffee and fresh-baked goods, and the sound of the espresso machine, coffee grinder, the bustling crew, customers chatting (some even singing along with the playlist) make for a festive atmosphere. And the music mix of NOLA Jazz, Neo-Soul, and uptempo Blues is invigorating and soothing. Familiar.

Sounds and smells she grew up on, from infancy to teens to now adulthood.

She puts her bag in the desk drawer, grabs her apron off of the chair, ties it on and looks up at the photo over the door.

It’s Mama and Daddy, taken on the opening day of the shop.

Under that photo is a framed $5 bill, and under that bill is an old Polaroid picture of a fishing boat with the names “Paul and Darlene” on the side.

“Hey, Mama. Hey, Daddy. Ansamn toujou.”

She takes a breath. In for 3 seconds, out for 4. Opens the door, and it's on:

“I need some shortbread cookies, please,” a voice calls from the front counter.

“On the way!” she answers, and pulls a tray of fresh cookies off the rack. She carefully arranges them on a clean plate and carries them out to the display case.

“Hey, y’all! Dee, fresh shortbread on deck!”

She hears applause from some of the customers and it makes her happy.

“One Americano and a decaf latte, please! Thanks, Sar!”

“Americano and decaf latte, coming up! Ayyyy, Sarah! Sak pase?”

“Ale byen, Bobby! Hi Char, here’s the shortbread. How’s it going? Oh! Hi, ma’am. May I help you? 3 of these? Good choice! I love these! I’ll bag them and get them to Dee, she’ll take your coffee order and ring you up. Thanks!”

“You see this?” Charlotta nods at the crowd. She’s petite, light brown-skin with green eyes and a shock of purple hair, dyed especially for Game Day.

“It’s been like this since we opened the doors this morning! By the way, the new cookies are running out the door. You have another hit. Maybe we should make them year ‘round.”

“Really. Huh. I’ll think about it. Depends on how reliable the source is for the ginger. It’s from a small farm in South Af—“

“Coffee to-go, order up! Hey, Prof! Can you—?”

“Got it!” She takes the cup to the pick-up window, reads the name and calls out, “Bucky? Bucky, your order’s ready!”

She turns back to Char for the next order and catches her cutting her eyes over at Roberto, who’s making another coffee order.

The both of them are snickering.

“Yo, Bobby. You see this one?” Char tilts her head to Sarah.

“You know I do, Char.”

“What? Did y’all just prank me with that name? Oh, come on! Bucky? Is this what we’re doing today?”

“You know him? That blue-eyed, tall drink o’water over there.”

“Because he’s lookin’ at you like knows you. Or maybe wants to.”

They both laughed. Out loud now.

“What? Who are you two talking about?”

Char and Bobby, eyebrows raised, are looking at her, then over her shoulder past her, so she turns back to the pick-up counter, and there’s Professor Barnes. He gives her a little 3 finger wave like he’s happy to see her and hopes she feels the same way about seeing him. He can see by her smile that she is.

She takes a napkin, places a couple of shortbread cookies on it, glares at her two friends, and softly says “He teaches a law class I’m taking. I’ll only be a minute. Konpòte ‘w, okay? Behave yourselves.”

Then she fixes her face, and walks back to the pick-up counter.

“This is a nice surprise. Welcome back to Congo Square Coffeehouse, Professor Barnes. You’re not usually here on Saturdays.”

“Good morning, Professor Wilson. Yeah, this really is a pleasant surprise. I’m meeting some friends over at the stadium for the game. I’m early so I…let’s just say I’m now adding a cuppa the best coffee I’ve ever had to my post-Saturday morning run routine.

By the way,” he holds up the cup, “I’m Bucky. Kind of a nickname people know me by. But like I said, you can call me by my given name. James.”

She realizes that she missed seeing his name on the cup when they were in the elevator, because of the little cardboard shield.

“Really. Well…I’m glad you like what we have to offer enough to keep coming back.

We roast and grind our own coffee beans, and our baked goods come from my Mama’s and Grandmama’s recipes that I put my own spin on.”

{Brains, beauty, baseball, and baking? Am I dreaming?}

She placed the napkin holding the cookies on the lid of his coffee cup.

“A lagniappe. Our newest treat. I call it Winter Shortbread. I hope you like it. By the way, why do you want me to call you James?”

“I like the way you say it.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Glossary - Haitian Creole

Sak pase? What’s up?

Ale byen. Going well.

Ansamn, toujou Together, always

Konpòte ‘w Behave yourselves.

Louisiana French

lagniappe a little something extra or for free.

* * * * * * * * * *

1) Working Title

2) There’s possibly a moodboard/graphic/thing for this later.

3) Last, but never least: A thousand Thanks for reading my nonsense!

* * * * * * * * * *

Posted over on The AO3 as Winter Shortbread.

#working title #sarah wilson #bucky barnes #sarahbucky #buckysarah #sarah x bucky #bucky x sarah #sarah wilson x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x sarah wilson #fleur de louve #fleurdelouve month 2023 #fleurdelouvemonth #fleurdelouve #prompt: college professors #fluff #sorry not sorry

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humanitys-strongest-bamf · 5 months

Text

"get me a damned matcha" | Chapter 25: June III

{{ Chapter 24: May II | Epilogue }} Chapter Directory

I for real feel like I'm grieving! This was my first published and completed fic in a VERY VERY long time and, as frustrating as it was sometimes, I'm so glad that y'all took this journey with me 😭

✧ pairing ➼ levi ackerman x fem!reader, college x coffee shop x roommates!au ✧ summary ➼ After you find yourself plagued with misfortune due to struggles in your personal and family life, you find yourself needing to move last minute. As a junior in undergrad with little money and little social support, you considered yourself lucky when you found a sublease that was close to campus and was relatively cheap. Unfortunately, it seemed that your roommate did not seem to be so excited regarding your presence. ✧ content/warnings ➼ fluff, alcohol, reader finally coming to terms with herself ✧ word count ➼ ~5.2k

School was over, but it didn’t mean you were entirely free of responsibilities.

Paradis University hosted a graduate banquet every year, specifically to feature students that excelled academically or contributed to the community.

You didn’t originally want to go. Your grades weren’t the best and you didn’t feel like being surrounded by your classmates that would no doubt boast about their near perfect GPA’s. However, you did start the Honors Society and it had taken off within the past few months, so you felt the need to attend since you participated in an important extracurricular. Sure, you could have just dipped out on it, but it could have been a chance to network if you decided to go down that route.

You couldn’t see it happening in the meantime. You just wanted to focus on your book, but if the opportunity arose to network, you told yourself that you’d take it.

You were dragging Levi to the banquet with you, which was met with surprisingly little resistance. The idea of spending the night wearing a formal outfit and being surrounded by people didn’t sound great to either of you, so you were more than surprised when Levi simply responded with a “sure” when you half-heartedly asked him if he’d be your emotional support throughout the night.

You were currently trying to focus on just the next hour or two to keep your mind off the banquet. The tickets were paid for and the outfits were bought. Even if you really wanted to skip out on it, you had already spent time and money preparing, so to have that go to waste would feel just as bad as forcing yourself to go for the night.

Sighing, you looked down into your bag, double checking that you had picked up both sandwiches that you had ordered. You were dropping off lunch for Levi before planning to hang out in the cafe for the rest of his shift before heading home to get ready for the banquet.

Your head shot up as you saw something orange moving out of the corner of your eye. It was small and barely drew your attention, but you looked off into the distance and your eyes fell on a nearby dumpster. You saw something shuffling around near the corner before disappearing under it.

Any intention for you to shrug and move on disappeared as soon as you heard a meow.

Your eyes widened as you immediately set your bag down on a nearby bench and headed directly towards the dumpster, doing your best to ignore the subtle foul smell coming from the opening. You got onto your hands and knees and knelt down to peek underneath the dumpster, a small gasp coming from your lips when you saw a lone kitten squatting in front of you. The kitten was thin, but didn’t look like it was starving. They were definitely dirty and you could already imagine Levi’s face if he was the one staring at the kitten. Some of its fur was matted and the dirt covered what you assumed would have otherwise been a vibrant orange coat.

It didn’t seem actively afraid of you, so you reached out your hand towards it without fully extending your arm, to offer that you were friendly but to not be too intrusive or scare them off. It made eye contact with you before gradually approaching you, tentatively watching you before deciding that you were a nice human and immediately crawled onto your lap.

Clearly more smitten with the kitten than you were disgusted by the amount of dirt and grime on its coat, you picked them up and brought them over to the bench, suddenly remembering your tuna sandwich. You carefully unwrapped the sandwich as the kitten watched you curiously, smelling the tuna as soon as you exposed the sandwich from its wrapping.

You scooped up some of the tuna with your pinky and extended your hand out to it again and it took all of your willpower to hold back the massive smile building on your face as you watched it happily lick at your finger. All that willpower was immediately thrown out the metaphorical window as soon as you heard it begin to purr.

You felt your heart ache as you stared at it, noticing that it wasn’t wearing a collar. You kept telling yourself that no matter what, you were not going to take it home with you, despite already being unable to part from it. You already knew that Levi was going to question why it took you so long to pick up the sandwiches, yet you couldn’t get yourself to get up and walk away.

You weren’t going to take the cat. You didn’t have the capacity to adopt it. You told yourself you wouldn’t do it.

~~~~~

You ended up taking the cat.

Your hands were full with your bag and the sandwiches, so you settled for placing the kitten in the hood of your jacket. Although he seemed to shuffle around a bit, your hood was large and sturdy enough that there wasn’t a risk of him falling out, even if he was wiggling around.

Once you finally arrived at the cafe, you let out an internal sigh of relief once you saw that there weren’t a lot of people inside. You opened the door to the cafe with your foot since your hands were occupied, making eye contact with your grumpy barista-turned-roommate-turned-boyfriend.

Levi was in the middle of making you your Matcha before looking up and seeing you slowly make your way inside, noticing that you seemed a bit more disheveled compared to usual. That, plus the fact that it took you as long as it did for you to pick up sandwiches from a deli shop two blocks away made him immediately suspect that something was up.

“You get lost again?”

It took you a second to respond and Levi could immediately tell that your attention was directed elsewhere.

“What?”

“Really took you 30 minutes to walk down the street?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yep,” you immediately responded, somewhat avoiding eye contact with him. You were stiff and moving slowly, as if you were afraid of knocking something over.

The more he looked at you, the more suspicious Levi became over what the hell had happened on your little field trip to the deli shop. He watched as you reached into your bag and handed him a sandwich.

He eyed you skeptically as he took the sandwich from you, immediately grimacing upon opening it and smelling the tuna coming from within the loose wrapping.

“I didn’t order tuna,” he commented with a disgusted expression.

“You’re so extra,” you sighed as you rolled your eyes at him, swapping out the sandwich you grabbed for yourself after realizing that you accidentally gave him yours.

Levi grabbed the correct sandwich but then looked up as soon as he began to unwrap it. He had heard a certain noise coming from the back of your hood. Raising an eyebrow, he gave you a skeptical look and noticed that you were purposefully avoiding eye contact with him. If he didn’t know you better, he would’ve assumed that you were just focusing on eating your sandwich, but he knew that was bullshit.

“Did I just hear meowing?”

He saw you pause for a split second, making it glaringly obvious that you were hiding something.

“I don’t know, did you?” you asked innocently while still avoiding eye contact.

You couldn’t see it, but you could essentially feel the glare that Levi was shooting in your direction.

A meow came from the back of your hood again. It must have been the tuna.

Levi’s unamused expression turned into a full frown as you continued to awkwardly look away.

“Show me your hood,” he demanded in a stern tone of voice.

“What?” you asked, looking up at him, trying your best to maintain a neutral expression. “Why?”

His gaze was unwavering, and his expression was unchanging. You could tell that he wasn’t going to back down from his request.

After a few seconds of desperately trying to maintain your mask, you sighed and pulled your hood to the side and grabbed the kitten from within, having it rest on one arm while you used your other hand to poke at your sandwich, offering more tuna to your new furry friend.

“Really?” Levi asked with an exasperated sigh.

“What?” you responded defensively. “I found him underneath the dumpster. I think he’s orphaned.”

You looked up towards Levi and saw an expected look of disgust appear on his face as soon as you mentioned the dumpster. His eyes fell from you down to the cat, noting that its fur looked a little matted, but otherwise didn’t look completely filthy. He watched as it happily licked the tuna off your finger, noticing that it was purring.

“Please don’t say you’re taking it home.”

“Where else am I supposed to put him? Back near the dumpster?” you responded nonchalantly, indicating that you had already made up your mind about adopting the dumpster kitty. “Look how much he loves the tuna.”

Levi had moved on from glaring incessantly at you to having an intense staring contest with the cat, adamant about not allowing it to come home with you. It got harder and harder to keep that frown on his face once he saw you smiling endearingly at the cat.

“Fine ,” he grumbled with a groan, rolling his eyes as he brought his attention back to making your Matcha, “but you’re feeding him something other than tuna from a cheap deli shop.”

You tried to hide the shit-eating grin that was beginning to appear on your face as you finally heard Levi give in to your somewhat impulsive decision to adopt a cat. Seeing that the cat was no longer sniffing at your sandwich, you scooped him up out of your arm and back into your hood.

“He’s going to get our clothes for the banquet all furry,” Levi mentioned as he looked back over at you.

“Well, I guess we’ll buy a lint roller on the way home,” you rationalized, earning a quiet grunt to come from Levi’s lips.

You rolled your eyes.

“Full of problems today, aren’t you?” you grumbled. “Just get me the damned Matcha.”

He looked back up at you with a frown as he hesitated in sliding your Matcha over to you.

You stuck your tongue out at him as you reached for the beverage, your eyes widening once he moved it away from you so you couldn’t reach.

“Only if you quit being a little shit.”

You glared at him and reached across the counter, dodging his efforts to shoo your hand away, smirking once you finally wrestled the cup away from him, although he wasn’t trying very hard to keep it out of your grasp in the first place.

“You’re so annoying,” he scolded.

“And you’re a dick,” you retorted.

“You’re distracting me.”

“And you’re choosing to get distracted.”

He rolled his eyes at your response, but you saw the slightest hint of the corner of his lips tugging up as well as the presence of an amused look in his eyes. He was enjoying your banter, despite his multiple claims regarding how annoying you were being to him at this moment.

Levi eventually walked away to tend to his station since he was still on a shift, but it was next to impossible for him to take his eyes off you for the rest of the shift. You were doing nothing other than sitting at your usual seat as you made your way through your sandwich, occasionally throwing a comment back to your new fur child when you heard him calling from behind you, musing over potential names for him.

“Mr. Whiskers? No? Don’t like that?” you proposed, gauging the cat’s reaction as you muttered off a list of potential names. “What about…Mashed Potato? I think you can look like a scoop of mashed potatoes. Don’t like that either? If you ask Levi, he’d probably just constantly call you a little shit, would you prefer that?”

Levi snorted to himself as he watched the ridiculousness that was the conversation you were having with the small furry creature that was meowing at you in response.

“Marmalade?” you asked, your eyes lighting up when you weren’t met with a meow of protest. “Nice to meet you, Marmalade.”

Levi watched closely as you introduced yourself, saying your name and some random facts about yourself, before pointing at Levi and introducing him as the one Marmalade will have to answer to if he leaves too much fur on the furniture.

You looked up, making eye contact with Levi again, realizing that he was listening in on your conversation.

“Levi might still refer to you as a little shit regardless, so I guess we’ll have that as your backup name.”

~~~~~

You were in a rush to the banquet. You had stopped at a pet store on the way home, buying a comfortable kennel, a litter box, a food and water bowl, and some kibble and canned food, although Levi was mumbling about being unsure if the kibble was good enough for Marmalade, clearly indicating that he was going to take this cat dad thing seriously. After taking Marmalade home, giving him a quick bath so that he wasn’t tracking dirt all over the apartment, and setting everything up for him, you were more than pressed for time.

“Told you he was going to get fur all over our clothes,” Levi grumbled from the driver’s seat as you picked off some stray strands of fur that the lint roller had failed to catch.

The drive to the banquet was relatively quiet, likely due to your nerves regarding having to be around that many people, but Levi’s brows furrowed together as he heard you incessantly squirming around in your seat. His eyes flashed over towards you and he saw that you were fumbling around with a waist-clincher that you were wearing underneath your dress. It looked more than uncomfortable and you kept on adjusting it in an attempt to make it more bearable to wear.

“Tch, just take that damn thing off,” he scolded. “You look fine.”

You paused, holding still without further adjusting it or taking it off, hesitant to fully remove it. You haven’t ever worn a formal dress without it, although you knew that it was due to lingering traces of that facade you had spent the past few months trying to unravel.

Realizing that it wasn’t worth the discomfort, you unbuckled the back of the waist-clincher and tossed it into the backseat, immediately feeling better and like you could finally breathe after taking it off.

Levi was right. It was unnecessary and barely made a difference. Even if it did, you realized that you really didn’t care anymore.

The amount of students that showed up to the banquet wasn’t terrible, but given the fact that most of them brought someone with them, you began to feel cramped fast. Most of the students walked in with their parents, with some that were like you, bringing their significant other instead.

The general expectation was to bring family and Levi was the closest person that you could realistically call family. You had cut your aunt off and had no intention of reconciling with her. You vaguely recalled a phone call two weeks ago from your aunt to chat about ‘future plans’. The question itself was innocent enough, but then she started going on about how writing isn’t an ‘actual job’ and you finally decided you had enough. You remembered snapping at her about how it was none of her business and then hung up. You haven’t responded to her since.

By the time you sat down at the table after finally locating your placecard, you were already beginning to feel overwhelmed from the amount of people cramped into a small conference room.

“This was a mistake,” you grumbled.

“Was it?”

Levi took a seat next to you and adjusted the tie that he had neatly put together about an hour prior when you were in a rush to leave. You watched him closely, paying particular attention to how his dress shirt seemed to fit his shape perfectly, with the color of the tie further accentuating his eyes. His fingers neatly dug into the collar of his shirt to adjust his tie, and you found your mind immediately wandering elsewhere as you became fixated on the dexterity of his fingers.

Feeling your cheeks heat up, you immediately ripped your eyes off him and shook your head a bit, sipping on the glass of water in front of you to keep yourself from feeling a certain way that would have made getting through this night even more difficult than it was already going to be.

“Oh, you came.”

You looked up as you saw Petra’s somewhat skeptical expression. Her tone of voice indicated that she legitimately did not think you were going to show up despite the fact that you turned in your RSVP and had a table card.

“Did you expect me not to?” you asked with a frown.

She shrugged as she sat down, hanging her purse off the back of the seat as she got settled.

“You just sounded pretty disinterested when we were chatting about it. That’s all.”

You took a second to recall that conversation that you vaguely remembered. It was a few weeks ago, roughly around the time that you had spent on figuring out how to move forward with properly grieving your parents’ death. This banquet was the last thing on your mind.

“Was distracted,” you eventually remarked. “Sorry.”

Your eyes shot up as you watched some other students sit down at the table with their family members. With everyone taking a seat, the crowd seemed a little less chaotic, so that was a plus, but you’d be expected to maintain one-on-one conversations now, which seemed just as draining.

“Honestly, I probably would have run it differently.”

“Hmm?” you said as you looked towards Petra, her comment pulling you out of your thoughts about how dreadful these next few hours were going to be. You knew she was referring to the Honors Society, since that’s what you were specifically invited to this banquet for. You already knew that she was going to say one of her comments that were genuine and did not come from a place of malignant intent, but always seemed to rub you off wrong.

She began giving examples of some things she would have done differently had she been the one that started it and you felt yourself getting increasingly irritated the more she spoke.

“Like any financial issues could’ve been mitigated through having member dues-”

“Should’ve run it yourself then,” you finally snapped as you scowled at Petra, whose eyes widened at your sudden remark.

You didn’t even notice the upturn of Levi’s lips that appeared as soon as you snapped, no doubt proud that you were finally standing up for yourself. You stood up, grumbling under your breath about how you were going to need a drink if you were going to have to deal with this type of thing all night, and headed straight for the bar.

It was the subpar university catering service, so you were less than impressed with their cocktail options, electing for the first fruity one that you saw. It tasted more like watered down juice than anything else.

You took a sip through the straw, looking over to the side as you saw Levi take a seat next to you.

“She send you to talk me down?” you asked dryly.

“No,” Levi said as he motioned for the bartender to get him a glass of whiskey. “Was too surprised to say much of anything.”

You kept your gaze fixated on your drink, watching the ice spin around as you stirred the liquid with your straw. You had known about how much your friendships were lacking for quite some time now, but you really did question why you kept all your friendships at surface-level. You legitimately couldn’t think of a reason as to why, other than maybe falling under the influence of your shitty ex-boyfriend.

Clenching your jaw, you let out a frustrated breath. You were going to resolve to do better and set boundaries when needed, instead of being the person that tedious tasks got thrown on to. You were going to be seen as a person and not as a means to an end.

You knew it was going to take a while. This part of you had been deeply engrained into you ever since high school. You’d have to fight back against any instincts you’ve developed since then, and then unweave all of the relationships that you had made based on this facade.

It was going to be hard and take a long time, but you knew that it was what you needed to do to continue moving forward.

You had to find out who you really were and how that ultimately changed the relationships around you, taking apart each superficial thread one by one until people began seeing you for who you really were.

~~~~~

Even after you gathered yourself and conversed your way through the dinner and beginning speeches, you got quickly drained again and found yourself back at the bar. You were more than annoyed, with the crowd being a bit more scattered as people began to socialize amongst each other.

You noted that Petra was chatting with the dean, likely doing some sort of elevator pitch to get into medical school, and that Oluo was chatting with Shadis, likely to ask about Shadis’ graduate program. This was essentially what all of the students present were doing: networking.

Now that you were here, you realized that you couldn’t really care for networking. You had no plans. You had no elevator pitch to give, and you were over pretending to be someone you weren’t.

You quietly groaned to yourself as you sipped on your cocktail, having ordered another one from the menu in hopes that it was better than the first one. It wasn’t. You grimaced upon tasting the liquid. It was too bitter and the ratio of alcohol to mixer was off. You’ve had better drinks at fraternity parties than whatever it was that the university catering service decided to deem as quality alcohol.

“Wanna get some air?”

You looked over as you saw Levi approaching you again after he went off to converse with Erwin, who was there to recruit more potential students for his lab. The extra personnel was much needed. Your eyes immediately lit up once you heard the offer.

“Please ,” you responded, although it sounded almost like begging, indicating how desperate you were to get out of that stuffy and noisy room.

Levi led you through the crowd and out one of the side doors that led to a balcony overlooking the downtown area. He shut the doors behind you to dampen some of the noise from within before leaning on the balcony railing next to you. It was much quieter outside. There were a few stragglers, but most of the guests had either gone home or were inside socializing. As far as you were concerned, it was only the two of you here, enjoying the cool night breeze and the beauty of the downtown lights below you, the street lamps illuminating up the street in a way that made you almost want to leave the building entirely just to walk underneath those lights.

You sipped on your drink again—likely just out of instinct since you still held the drink in your hand—and immediately grimaced again, being rudely reminded of how shitty it tasted.

Levi grabbed the glass by the rims and placed another drink in front of you. While yours was clear and flat with an orange slice inside it, the one he just handed you was bubbling from the carbonation and had a pretty mix of red and orange colors leading to the bottom of the glass.

You took a sip, not being all that surprised when it tasted much better than the one you previously had. Whatever he ordered tasted more fruity than it did alcohol, while still providing that slight kick. Realizing that he likely customized the drink instead of directly ordering something from the menu, you eyed him as you sipped on the thin straw.

He knew your flavor profile. It wasn’t that surprising to you. After all, he had been making you your drinks for two years while also living with you. The drinks that he made were clearly very different from the ones served from behind a traditional bar, but he knew your likes and dislikes enough to craft you a cocktail you’d actually enjoy.

Levi sipped on your old drink, underestimating how bad it actually was, immediately scrunching up his nose in disgust upon tasting it.

“Really?” he questioned as he shot you a skeptical look.

“It’s what they had on the menu,” you said quietly, your cheeks slightly heating up in embarrassment.

“And by ‘they’, you mean the shitty university catering.”

It was the graduate department that was hosting the event, so their catering events included alcohol, but it was still university catering, which usually resulted in their menus being written from a more economic standpoint instead of one designed to provide the guests with satisfactory food and drinks.

You shrugged in acknowledgement, having accepted that you probably should have just tried to mix something up yourself. Still, the fact that Levi went out of his way to get you a drink you’d like brought a small smile to your face.

You swirled the drink with the small straw for a while before sipping at it again, looking over towards Levi afterwards. He had turned around to set your old drink down onto the mini-table behind you, and was now headed back towards you.

As he turned to face you, you couldn’t help but notice how his hair moved about in the wind, revealing his undercut, or how his dress shirt had the two top buttons undone, showing off his collarbones. He elected to also undo his tie and have it hang around his neck. His suit jacket was off due to how warm it was inside, and he had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Your eyes drifted down to his hands and you felt your mind wandering off towards your memories of how his hands felt on you, recalling some of the more intimate things he’s done with them to you.

You found yourself staring straight at him as your face rapidly heated up again as you desperately tried to pull your mind out of the gutter.

“What?” he asked, noticing the fact that you were just staring at him, ripping you out of your daze.

“Hmm?” you responded as you slightly shook your head to reorient yourself. “Nothing, just…”

You trailed off as you awkwardly shuffled from side to side, scratching at the back of your head.

“Just what?”

You took a moment to look directly into his eyes, noticing that they had softened in the past few minutes that he was standing outside with you. Part of you didn’t believe that this was the same person that pissed you off so much two years ago, but you were able to acknowledge that pretty soon after you moved in, he was there for you in a way that you desperately needed, but could never get prior to him.

“Just…thinking about how making me hate you was probably the best thing you could have done for me.”

That was not the answer that Levi was expecting, as evidenced in the way that he blinked at you as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What?” he asked, bewildered at your response.

You looked down at your drink again as you tried to gather your thoughts into something that would make sense.

“...I remember how pissed I was those first few weeks of living with you,” you began, your voice gradually rising from a quiet whisper as you continued to speak. “Kept on questioning how I was going to survive even another week with you…but I think that it’s because I hated you so much that I was able to be myself around you.”

A gentle breeze blew through the both of you, as if it was trying to carry your words directly to him.

“...because I hated you so much, I was able to form something…real with you.”

His eyes softened again as he looked into your eyes, shifting his stance so that he was facing you more.

“Well, you were pretty easy to hate,” he mumbled nonchalantly, immediately earning himself a gentle shove from you in retaliation, the edges of his lips pulling up into a subtle smirk.

“I’m serious,” he continued after readjusting his positioning after you rudely forced him to move. “I remember dreading coming home because I knew your annoying ass was going to be waiting for me.”

“And I remember grimacing every time I heard the door open because I knew I had to see your cocky face again.”

He scoffed and flicked at your forehead in response to your comment and you swatted his hand away, rubbing at your forehead afterwards as you pouted at him.

You felt your face heating up again once you saw the affectionate look in his eyes as he watched you.

“...just strange…”

“What is?” he asked, slightly tilting his head, never taking his gaze off you.

“...that within the span of two years,” you spoke quietly, “I went from hating you…to loving you.”

You felt your breath get caught in your throat as you realized what exactly you had just said and admitted to—that you loved him. You felt your heart beating through your chest as your entire body heated up in embarrassment—but there was also truth to the sentiment. You really did love him. He had been there for you in ways that no one ever had been before. He pulled you out of the shitshow that you found yourself drowning in and helped push you forward, even if he was being a bit of a dick at times.

You thought back to how sneakily he had snuck up on you, and how devastated you were when you thought you had lost him. Even through all the fighting you had at the beginning and how difficult he was as you tried to sort through your feelings, you’d be willing to go through them every single time if the result was you standing here next to him in this moment.

“...love you too, brat,” he whispered, gently running his fingers down the side of your face, before pulling you into a gentle kiss.

You pressed your lips up against his, smiling into the kiss as you ran your fingers through his undercut, stepping closer to him.

Once you finally pulled away, you looked directly into his eyes, the two of you now being close enough that your lips were just inches apart.

Nothing else mattered to you right now except for him. Being able to hate him, meet him, and fall in love with him made going through undergrad worth it, even if it didn’t feel like it at first. You’d do it over and over again if it led to this conclusion.

You parted your lips to speak, your voice barely audible as you whispered to him.

“Thank you for being my found family.”

#: @levisbrat25 @gothgril69 @sckerman @berrijam @notgoodforlife @meowjaa @averysmolbear @roseofdarknessblog @bejewelledd @hhighkey @ayame236 @sad-darksoul @velouria17 @kamyru @l1zk4 @layenacreates @lamees004 @whoami-72 @highgoon69 @chaotic-on-main @levishotgf @nube55 @chosos-mascara @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @v4mp-wife @moonchild-angel @astri-ackerman @auriuswolve @noctemys @you-always-made-me-blush @raginginferno267 @sugurusdiscordmoderator @jennamelinda12 @noodlejitsu @nalu-trashytrash @creigh-h @gina239

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